#javier peña reader insert

[flightlessangelwings]

Since we’re in Latino heritage month now I want to bring something up again that’s worth talking about when it comes to reader insert fic:

Can we as writers please be aware that latine people are present in fandom and not make the assumption that the reader does not speak Spanish?

Especially when writing for Latino characters, latine people look to them for representation and it feels very exclusionary to assume the reader doesn’t know Spanish. Latine representation is hugely important for us. Actors like Pedro Pascal, Oscar Isaac, Diego Luna, Gabriel Luna, and more are so important for that representation and they all understand that importance. With the lack of latine and poc characters, it’s always very meaningful when we are represented. And it’s very hurtful that people can assume that their audience is only white.

Some ways to work around and be inclusive: You could use italics to indicate Spanish, say “you didn’t hear” instead of “you didn’t understand” so that way it’s more open to interpretation, provide an immediate translation in or out of the context and let readers decide for themselves if they understood it or not. Very simple things make a huge difference in inclusivity and don’t change your story at all!

And another note too: please be respectful when writing Latino characters and actively work to avoid getting into fetishization territory. Be aware of harmful tropes and stereotypes that exist while writing Latino characters. I.e. the Latin lover trope, the whole papi thing, “spicy Latino” etc. The characters aren’t real but the impact it can have does affect real people and it can make latine people uncomfortable to see it in fic.

Remember that inclusivity is a kindness and people of all walks of life read fics to let’s work to make everyone feel welcome and loved and seen in our reader insert fic!

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Self Control.

Javi keeps refusing himself what he wants. One night puts everything into perspective.

Pairing - Javier Peña x female reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - Cursing, mentions of blood and death

Word Count - 3429

Author's Note - hello lovely people, hope you're all well. i've been a huge fan of pedro pascal since his narcos days, so all of this love for him happening currently is making me very happy. javier peña is perhaps my favourite tv character of all time, so i'm very excited to share this story with you. i'd always love to write more javi stuff, so if you ever have any thoughts, please send them my way. i'm happy to write for all pedro characters actually!! as always, much love x

Masterlist. Requests.

It wasn't supposed to go like this. 

It was supposed to be simple. A routine raid. Get the information and go. 

How did it all go so wrong? 

Gunshots. Blood. A sea of green uniforms scattering the ground. Escobar had somehow known about it. He was taking no prisoners. 

The Search Bloc had lost men. The Colombian Police had lost men. You were just praying that you hadn't. 

Javier Peña and Steve Murphy were still out there. You had no idea if they were okay. They could be shot, bleeding out. Kidnapped. Or worse. 

No. 

You're driving yourself insane thinking of all the possible worse case scenarios. Your mind can't help but go there. It's instinct. 

You're sat waiting. Hoping. Praying. You've made your home at Javi and Steve's desks - they're more central to the action than your own. You're watching the front doors, sat in Javi's chair. It smells like cigarette smoke, and musk, and him. You let the familiar scent envelope you, allowing it to bring you comfort. You breathe him in. He'll be here soon. You know he will.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Javier Peña was a complicated man. An enigma. He was tough, but gentle. Rugged, but tender. Commanding, but reserved. He was one big juxtaposition. Impossible to read. 

Or so he thought. 

You came along, and challenged every single one of his existing beliefs. You turned him soft - more understanding, more empathetic. He'll tell you he hates it. He lies. 

You weren't supposed to be here. Not really. You'd followed your brother, a DEA agent, all the way from Texas to Colombia. He'd told you he was being sent to South America to assist with the Pablo Escobar situation, and you'd packed your bags without a second thought. You had no one else. Wherever he goes, you go. Except one place. 

He'd died two months into the job. Shot dead by Escobar's men, in a situation that he shouldn't have even been in. And all of a sudden, you were alone. Alone in an unfamiliar place. Alone in the world. 

Javier made sure that wasn't true. He took you under his wing like an injured baby bird, slowly but surely nursing you back to health. He'd been there, when Carrillo had told you the fate of your brother. He'd caught you in his arms when your knees had given out, held you like he was scared you were going to shatter into a thousand pieces. He was holding you together. He has been, ever since. 

You were just a secretary. The odd one out. The only woman. Looked down on. People pitied you, really. You heard the things they said. Even if you didn't understand, you heard. You could take a guess. 

The world was a terrifying place for a woman. It was a terrifying place in general. But it seemed to be less scary knowing that Javier and Steve were at their desks just across the precinct every day. Your safety blankets. Your protectors. Which is exactly why the thought of losing either of them was currently ripping you apart from the inside out.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Your eyes shot up every time the door opened. Slowly but surely, members of the Search Bloc filtered in - many of them bloody, and injured, but alive. You weren't taking your eyes off the entrance to the precinct. Not for a second. Not when any minute, Peña and Murphy could walk in, and everything would be okay again. Any minute now, you reassure yourself. Any minute now. 

You hear steel toe boots on the linoleum floor, and your breath hitches… but it’s Colonel Carrillo. He spots you from across the room and strides over, ignoring any pleas for his attention from the Search Bloc guys. He envelopes you in a hug - professionalism be damned.

“Are you okay?”, you ask when he pulls back. “What happened? I’ve been going insane listening over the radio.”

“I’m okay, mi amor. We’re still trying to figure out what went wrong. He knew, someone had to have told him.”

You’re just about to ask him about Murphy and Peña when he says,

“We got separated in the chaos. I don’t know where they are, but I’m sure they’re fine. Try not to panic, okay?”

He’s looking at you carefully, and you’re nodding, but you know you aren’t going to take his advice. If anything, now you’re panicking more. Men are filtering through the door every minute, but none of them are the two you’re looking for. Anxiety creeps into your stomach, wraps its claws around your insides. You can’t shake it. You feel like you’re being swallowed by dread - it’s all too familiar. You know exactly what it’s like to have someone you love go into the field and not return.

Carrillo strokes your cheekbone with his thumb gently, and leaves to attend to his men. You sit back down in Javi’s chair, trying to burrow into his scent, the warmth of the leather. You can imagine his big strong arms wrapping themselves around you, the way he nuzzles his nose into the crown of your head when he hugs you, how he traces patterns on your back when he holds you when you’re particularly upset. 

You think about Steve, and the way he winks at you when you catch eye contact across the room, or how he throws an arm around your shoulders whenever he sidles over to your desk to bother you. He’s always stealing candy from your top drawer, and then acting innocent when you call him out on it. You feign annoyance, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. You know you’re lucky to have the two of them looking out for you. You know you’re lucky to have Carrillo on your side too - life would be undoubtedly more difficult without his protection. They make you feel less vulnerable, more equal. You no longer feel like a lamb at the slaughter every time you walk into work. 

Drops of water hit your lap, and you realize you’re crying. Warm, wet tears slide down your cheeks, taking streaks of your mascara with them. Your lipstick has smudged where you’ve been peeling at the skin of your lips, and your nail polish has been incessantly picked at for hours. You know you look just as much of a mess on the outside as you feel on the inside. You close your eyes, and take a deep breath. Calm down, you tell yourself. You’d know if something bad had happened to them. You’d feel it. 

It’s as if time has become molten - sticky, warm molasses. Minutes feel like hours. The world is moving in slow motion, and it’s making you dizzy. Your breath is coming in short, sharp pants, and the urge to curl up into a ball grows stronger by the second. If the boys don’t show up soon, you’re convinced you’re going to crumble into a thousand pieces. You feel like you’re shattering, splitting apart at the seams. Fear sits on your chest like an ugly, relentless creature, choking you with each passing minute. The world is getting colder, darker, and you’re defenseless.

And just like that, your sun appears. Battered, bruised, bloody, but alive. Standing in the doorway, panting and breathless, is Javier Peña. Before you can register what’s happening, you’re leaping out of his chair, and practically running to close the distance between you. You collide with the solid mass of a man, and he wraps his arms around you like it’s second nature. He smells like cigarettes and musk and gunpowder and the outdoors and smoke and home. Relief fills your body, and the weight of it almost knocks you off your feet. You settle further into his chest like you belong there, pressing your nose into him and inhaling. 

You pull away, and notice that his chest is damp. The tears from before are back with a vengeance, sprinting their way down your cheeks, forming puddles wherever they can reach. You’re not sure if you’re crying due to happiness, or fear, or relief - perhaps a mixture of all three. You’re both still panting, looking at each other in disbelief. You fist your hands into the front of his shirt, as if to ground yourself to him. Checking he’s real. In the flesh.

“Don’t cry, cariño. I’m here. I’m okay. We’re okay.” 

He’s murmuring quietly to you, as if you’re the only two people in the room. He reaches out, and gently uses his thumbs to swipe away the tears that are still escaping. Cradling your face in his big, calloused hands, he looks at you earnestly.

“I’ll always come back, bonita. You know I will. Just like I promised.”

He presses his forehead to yours, and for the first time in hours, you relax. You stay pressed together like that for what feels like an eternity, until you hear familiar footsteps approaching. 

You break away from Javier to get a good look at Steve. He too is battered and bruised - hair mussed, shirt torn, blood staining his jeans and his hands. But he’s alive. That’s all that matters.

“Murphy,” you breathe, before wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You’d go out there and take down Escobar yourself if you could. If it meant you didn’t have to see your friends in pain anymore. This job is killing you all from the inside out, slowly but surely. You’re all shells of yourselves. You wonder how much longer you’re all going to be able to cope before you snap. You have a feeling that these two men in front of you are closer to their breaking points than you think. 

“God, I need to shower. I’ve never sweat this much in my life,” Steve remarks, and now that you’re looking at him, you can’t help but agree. You nod, smirk etched on your face, and the corners of his lips turn up. A slight smile from Steve. That’s a win.

A voice rumbles from behind you in response to Murphy’s statement. Jesus, Javi was closer to you than you thought.

“Yeah, me too. You go. I’ll drive her home.” He places a hand on the small of your back, and you can feel the warmth of him seeping through his palm.  He always runs so hot, you think to yourself. Your sun.

Murphy squeezes your arm and heads out the door, leaving you and Javier standing in the middle of the precinct. Everyone seems to be heading home, the room becoming increasingly quiet. You figure the two of you should follow suit. You gesture at Javi to give you a minute, and make your way over to the Colonel’s office, popping your head in the doorway. 

“You should go home, Carrillo,” you say softly. “You need to sleep just as much as the rest of us.”

He smiles at you tentatively, his face dampened with worry. You can see clear as day that he’s blaming himself for the events of the evening. You also know that there’s nothing you can say to make it better.

“I will, querida. I will.”

And with that, you grab your things from your desk, and make your way over to where Javi is waiting for you. He returns his hand to the small of your back, and guides you to his car.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Your hands are shaking when you try to unlock the front door to your apartment. You can’t quite get the key in the lock, and it’s becoming frustrating. Why are you acting like you were the one being shot at tonight? All you had to do was sit at your desk and wait. Get a grip, you tell yourself. You’ve had it the easiest.

Javi can see you’re struggling, so he reaches out and opens the door for you. You step inside, immediately kicking off your heels and throwing down your purse. You turn on the lamp in the corner of the living room, and draw the blinds. All the while, Javi stands in the doorway, watching you complete your nightly rituals. It’s disarming to see you like this, he thinks. So domestic. So at peace.

He clears his throat awkwardly, and places his hand on the doorknob.

“Let me leave you alone, cariño. You need to rest. The adrenaline of tonight is going to wear off any minute, and we’re all gonna crash.”

He takes a step, but you lunge forward in his direction to stop him.

“Wait! Wait. I - I don’t… I can’t - please.” You can’t find the right words. In fact, you’re not even sure what you’re asking for.

He steps back inside your apartment, and shuts the door behind him gently, making sure to lock the deadbolt. He’s never been a man to take stupid chances when it comes to your safety. When it comes to you.

“What is it, mi amor?”, he asks carefully. “What do you need?”

“You,” you answer without a second thought. “Please don’t leave. I don’t think I’ll sleep tonight if you leave.”

He looks at you for a moment - carefully surveying. He takes in your appearance, the pain in your eyes, the way you look so small and fearful standing in front of him. It’s not even a question.

He kicks off his boots, and takes his wallet and his cigarettes out from the back pocket of his jeans, placing them on the counter. Then, he strides over, across the room, and smothers you in a hug that he’s convinced he probably needs more than you. 

You stand like that, embraced in each other, for what feels like forever. Two people breathing each other in, trying to absorb the other person. If you could crawl into Javier’s chest, bury yourself into his ribcage, you would. No hug is ever close enough. Never enough. It’s never enough.

“I’ll stay,” he murmurs into your hair. “I’ll always stay.”

You pull back to gaze into those big brown eyes, warm and sweet like chocolate. He looks serene, peaceful, almost. You don’t get to see him like this very often.

“You should shower,” you tell him quietly. You’re worried that you’re going to spook one another, so you both keep the volume to a minimum. “I’ll make us some tea.”

He nods gently, and makes his way to your bathroom. Moments later, you hear the water running, so you begin to boil the kettle, reaching for two mugs from your cabinet.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You place a mug of tea on each nightstand either side of your bed, and slip out of your skirt and blouse. You opt for a tank top and shorts - the Colombian heat still unrelenting, even in the early hours of the morning. The sun will be up soon, you think. A new day.

Javi stands in the doorway of your bathroom with a towel slung low on his hips. Droplets of water are journeying down his chest, and your eyes follow, as if on instinct. He smirks when he catches you, watching your face heat up slightly.

“Cute bedsheets,” he remarks. “I like the love hearts.”

He’s still smirking, so you get up to smack him on the arm.

“Shut up, Javier,” you threaten, with no real malice. “Your tea is on the nightstand.”

You turn your back when he changes back into his black boxers, which only amuses him further. He can’t help but admire you from his place across the room. The way your hair blows slightly with the breeze from the opened window, the band of skin between where your tank top ends and your shorts begin, the sweat at the nape of your neck. He knows you’d taste like salt and sugar simultaneously. It takes everything in him not to run his tongue up your spine. You shiver from your spot on the edge of the bed, as if you can read his mind.

“I’m dressed, querida,” he almost whispers. You turn around, and shamelessly let your eyes rake over his golden skin, wishing so badly to reach out and touch him. He’s wearing significantly less clothes than you expected. Not that you’re complaining.

He lays down carefully on one side of your bed, stretching himself out on his back. You turn off the lamp on the nightstand, and lay down on the other side, careful to keep some distance between the two of you. You thought that having him here would relax you, but it seems to be doing the opposite. You feel like your nerve endings are on fire - the room is too warm, you can’t seem to get your lungs to fill with air, you’re hyper aware of every little movement in the room. You’re on edge.

Javi’s breathing is deep, calculated. He’s trying to keep calm. Everything in him is screaming to reach out and touch you, to throw an arm around your waist, to tangle his legs in between yours. He’s not sure he’s ever shown this level of self control.

“Javi,” you breathe. “Relax, please. I can feel how tense you are from here.”

He takes a deep breath before he answers you.

“Sorry, mi vida. I’m just - I’m… I’m trying.”

“Trying?”

“Trying to use every inch of restraint that I have.”

Your breath hitches, and he hears it, clear as day.

“What for?” you whisper.

“To resist the urge to touch you.”

You’re breathing quicker now, and so is he. The air in the room is thick with tension - it’s a miracle you’re both still conscious. 

“You’ve never really been one to deny yourself of the things you want, Javi," you whisper. "You’re not usually the patron saint of self control.” 

And with that, he snaps. He grabs your hips, and uses effortless strength to pull you so you’re straddling him, settled in his lap. He sits up to bring your faces level, and presses his forehead into yours, just like he did mere hours ago in the precinct. 

You know that tonight has changed everything for the two of you. You also know there’s no going back from this - you can’t uncross this line. The friendship that exists between you and Javi, a relationship that’s been so carefully built on trust and support and boundaries - permanently altered if you continue. You just can’t seem to find it in you to care. Not really. You want Javier Peña for all he is, all he has. Consequences be damned.

“I love you, cariño,” he breathes into your mouth. “Fuck, I love you.”

You’re convinced that any minute, you’re going to wake up from this beautiful dream. But for now, you make the most of it.

“I love you, Javier Peña. I love you so much it hurts.”

And with that, he’s kissing you. It’s desperate, and it’s needy, and it’s so full of love you’re worried that you’re going to pass out. His lips are on your lips, and he’s got one hand firmly at the nape of your neck, holding you in place. As if I’m going anywhere, you think. I’d happily stay here forever.

You’re so lost in each other that you don’t notice the sunrise. Dawn hits the window, casting an orange hue across the room. Javi looks like he’s glowing, the sunlight glinting off his hair. Golden boy.

He pulls off your shirt, and presses his chest to yours. He’s convinced you’re tethered to each other - he can feel the connection through your skin. It almost makes him want to cry, this feeling. It’s never felt like this before. It never will again. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, and your legs around his waist, ensuring that there isn’t a centimeter of space between you. You don’t know what today holds. You know it won’t be easy. But you’re comforted by the fact that you know Javi will be right there beside you. No matter what happens from this moment on, Javi is always going to be right there beside you.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” you breathe into his mouth.

“I love you, mi alma,” he breathes back. “Mi corazón, mi alma.”

My heart, my soul. It’s as if he took the words right out of your mouth. 

Mi corazón, mi alma.

My heart, my soul.

[unlimitedlust]

Good Girl Gone Bad (Javier Peña x Reader)

A/N: Heyyy, another Javier Peña thristy fanfiction for you!!! Now heads up for initial details I noted people appreciate:

Word count: 4.3K

Disclaimers: it’s a female Reader x Javier story, +18 (very explicit scenes ahead guys) 🌶️🔥👄💦, unprotected p in v, tinges of sub Javi and breeding kink!!!

When you see this “-0-”, I recommend you to put “Ride or Die, Pt. 2” by Sevdaliza, Villano Antillano and Tokischa for ambiance purpose!!!

Please let me know if you enjoyed it, likes and reblogs are very much appreciated and also encourage me to keep writing (if you like my writing ofc 😅)

Enough said: Enjoy your reading!!!

Javier seized the burning sensation from the freshly brewed coffee down his throat as he took a big gulp from his mug, as if the bitter liquid was going to turn off his mind from all the work he had to do for at least a few seconds. His eyes scanned the big piles of files around him, the full ashtray almost falling off the front border of his table and next to the telephone he’d left off the receiver on purpose.

DEA staff ran up and down their office talking on the phone, receiving and printing new information from loud fax machines, typewriters keys clicking annoyingly loud, both English and Spanish being spoken all the time. For an ordinary person who wasn’t used to such a busy dynamic it was a maddening environment itself, not to mention the main part of their job, which was chasing after narcos.

Javier knew all their faces and names, but he was under such stress he just didn’t care to engage in any kind of small talk conversations with his coworkers anymore, and day after day he understood the wallflower that sat in the farthest corner of the office, just doing her job like a horse on a winker.

He knew she worked there for a while now, but all the knowledge he had about her was her name and that she was a great investigator. She was so quiet the only times he’d heard her voice was when someone greeted her and she greeted them back. At first Javier thought she was a weirdo, but now not only he admired her invisibility and discretion, but also understood why she wanted to be left in peace in a corner just doing her job.

The fact that she was a beautiful woman didn’t go unnoticed by him of course, even without ever seeing her smile, but she kept herself shut to any contact with anyone in that place he just didn’t dare to bother the peace she seemed to hold and he envied so much.

Sadly his position in the DEA didn’t allow him to have that luxury, after all, he was The Javier Peña.

Hours flew by and by the time Javier broke his attention away from the files in front of him, he realized it was dark outside and he was alone in the building again.

He knew he still had endless work to do for the day, but he’d had enough, his head would explode if he spent another night in that office, he needed to leave and blow off some steam.

“Fuck this shit”

-0-

Grabbing his car keys, Javier left the empty DEA office and drove mindlessly around the city looking for the first place that would grab his attention enough to drag him inside.

Tonight he wasn’t looking for a hooker to spend a few hours by his side, if he wanted that he’d just head home and call one of his contacts and get it over with.

He wanted something different, something cheerful and with heavy drinks, he desperately needed to forget his job and all the shit he had to deal with everyday just for a few hours.

A club with big pink neon lights adorning its name caught his attention as he parked his vehicle on the side of the street, the loud reggaeton beats coming from the inside drawing him in as he made his way to the entrance.

Just as he stepped inside he was swallowed by a sea of sweaty and drunken people dancing, twerking, grinding on each other, hands all over the place, allowing the sensual and captivating beat to take over their bodies and desires.

It was perfect for what Javier needed at that moment.

He made his way through the crowd to one of the bars, checking out a few asses on his way there, feeling more comfortable and confident as he received some flirtatious glances in his direction.

With an ice cold beer in hand he checked out the dance floor in front of him once again, but this time a woman in a dark pink skin tight dress caught his attention. He hadn’t seen her face yet as she had her back turned in his direction, but the way she swayed her hips and how that tantalizingly short dress hugged her body in all the right places made his mouth water at the sight. He couldn’t help but wonder how she would look like moving like that on his dick, riding him in a reverse cowgirl position with that juicy ass and bouncy hips. The thought alone made his jeans feel tighter on himself.

Javier took a larger gulp of his beer as he got ready to approach her, ready to use all of his charm and unfailing game with women in hopes to be the one to take her home tonight.

But as soon as she turned in his direction, his jaw dropped when he realized the woman he was lusting on was the wallflower from the DEA, the one that no one knew nothing about other than her name and the info on her files, held a naughty smile on her face as she danced in the most provocative way possible, dragging not only Javier’s but many other men’s attention, and she knew it, she meant it.

Every now and then men tried to approach her to dance with her and maybe get a little taste, but she ditched them all gracefully. She didn’t want them. She wanted to feel desired and lusted on, but for her the real fun was in taking the candy out of their mouths, which was drawing them in like a mermaid, to then ditch them off like nothing.

The new discovery only encouraged Javier to take his shot with her. He was well aware that working with her could be both a leverage or a weakness, and there was only way he could find out.

She hadn’t seen him yet, the dim and colorful flickering lights over her didn’t allow her to see faces clearly from a certain distance, so he used that to watch her, waiting for the perfect window to go after her.

And just as she left the dance floor to the bar at the other side of the club the window was open.

“Good girl only during business hours?” Javier purred in her right ear just as she rested her forearms on the counter.

He didn’t miss the way his low voice caused goosebumps on her skin, the thin hairs on her arms standing immediately as he got by her side on the counter, waiting for her answer as she displayed a sly smirk on her plush lips.

“What makes you think I’m not a good girl full time?” She batted her eyelashes, a challenging glimmer in her orbs as her eyes traveled from his brown ones to his mouth, watching him lick his lips for a second as he seemed to get lost in his sinful thoughts for a moment.

Taking him off guard, she rested her right hand on his chest and slid her index finger over the first sets of buttons of his cream shirt, opening the them skillfully in a swift motion, revelaving part of his tanned and smooth chest, the light touch of her fingertip being enough to make his heart race.

“I like you better that way” The playful smirk never leaving her lips “Charming”

“Charming enough to buy you a drink?”

“I like shots better”

Javier was now by her side, right elbow propped on the counter as he signaled the bartender for two shots of tequila. He put two shot glasses in front of them along with a salt cellar and served them a small plate with pieces of lime, producing the bottle containing the golden liquid for last.

“Leave the bottle” He demanded just as the bartender finished filling the glasses.

They put salt on their hands, licked it and downed their first shot, the section of lime coming right after to soothe the bitter oaky punch, the alcohol instantly warming up their bodies.

“How did you find me here?” She asked, running her thumb in the corner of her lips to clean off the excess of lime juice.

“Are you upset about that, cariño?”

He faked a pout.

“Well…” She paused, pretending to be thinking deeply about the answer “I’m actually glad you found me”

“Is that so? Mind telling me why?”

“If you play my cards right, might as well show you” She teased him, pouring them another round of tequila.

“Then teach me how to play them”

They took their second round of tequila, but this time their eyes never broke their contact, a silent dispute of power between them, hunters hunting one another, testing each other to see how far their teasing would go, who would lose the battle and give in first.

Javier was both amused and tempted.

Amused because he still couldn’t believe that in front of him, challenging him, was the shy reserved woman from the DEA, claws out and ready to attack.

Tempted because she was the temptation herself. But Javier was a competitive man and he wasn’t going down without a fight.

“Do you dance, Mr. Peña?”

“Javi” He corrected “You’ll have to find out by yourself”

“I’ll take my chances”

She winked and handed him another shot, both of them sinking it fast, the spicy-woody liquid didn’t even burn their throats anymore as their bodies already felt like in flames, not only from the alcohol, but also from the heated exchange between them as every second, every word, every glance felt like electric shocks, like adding fuel to the fire.

Javier waited for her to give the next move as she sized him up, the smug look on her face making clear she had nothing but bad intentions in her mind, and oh boy how he wanted to get into her trouble.

“Come on”

She hooked her index finger in one of his pant’s belt loops and pulled him, the sudden move making Javier jolt forward, his body halting less than an inch away from hers, a dangerously short distance separating them as she watched amused his surprised reaction over her small stunt.

Colorful lights beamed over them as they were now in the middle of the dance floor, a loud song with heavily provocative beats and lyrics guiding their bodies, her arms resting loosely around his neck and one of his hands keeping her close by the end of her back as they danced together, their hips moving in sync, up close, almost intimate, but never brushing against each other, one of his legs strategically positioned between hers as they swayed sensually.

She slid one of her hands down his chest seductively, but this time, he was the one in control.

The hand on her back slid to her waist and spun her around, his hands now keeping her in place and practically locked against his body by her lower belly and waist, her ass now rolling irresistibly close to his crotch.

Javier loved how her skin reacted to the way he manhandled her, goosebumps all over as she bit her bottom lip and threw her head back, leaning against his shoulder as she let herself get lost in her own lustful thoughts for a moment, the suggestive lyrics only adding to her imagination.

Taking advantage of her exposed neck, Javier got intoxicated by her smell, the jasmine and warm notes of cocoa overpowered his senses as his lips traced the sensitive skin towards her ear, the light touch of his lips along with his mustache intensifying the goosebumps she still hadn’t recovered from yet.

“Am I up to your expectations?” He whispered in her ear, his lips moving just above her lobe. His teasing affected her more than she’d like to admit.

They lost track of the time they spent dancing together, teasingly of course, but also having a great time singing, laughing and smiling at each other.

Javier, who'd never seen her smile before that night, couldn’t take his eyes off her lips every time they curved upwards, revealing not only her beautiful lined teeth, but also the dimples on her glowing cheeks, lighting up her already cheerful face.

And again he caught himself admiring her, as they were now outside of the club. Javier stood leaning his back on his truck’s passenger door while she stood on his opposite side, leaning herself on the wall behind her.

A comfortable silence hung between them as he lit up a cigarette and she drank the last bottle of beer she got on their way out. Javier inhaled the smoke, enjoying the feel of the nicotine kicking in his system as he watched her take a gulp from the bottle, her lips wrapping around it softly as she reciprocated his gaze.

He wondered what her lips felt like, not only against his lips, but all over his body, plump and soft kissing him, caressing him, marking him, sucking him, the thought alone making his pants feel tight once again.

The sound of her heels clicking on the pavement took him out of his reverie as he now realized she was coming to him, slow and steady steps. She left the half empty bottle on his truck’s roof behind his head and then took the cigarette from his hands, bringing it to her own lips as she held it between her manicured nails.

And just as she leant on his vehicle by his side, he took his cue to leave his position and imprison her between his body and the truck, his arms hovering on each side of her head, the smug smile indicating she had him right where she wanted him to be: his body inches away from hers, the muscles on his arms twitching with the force he held onto the truck’s roof ledge, trying not to lose the last bit of restraint he still had.

She puffed the smoke out of her lips towards his, the simple yet enticing gesture making him snap and take the cigarette off her hands in a swift motion, throwing it away just as he crashed his lips against hers.

Their tongues met right away initiating an erotic dance, devouring each other, euphoria rushing through their veins as their teasing had finally reached its goal.

Javier cupped her jaw and pressed his body against hers urgently, the jolt against the truck making the beer bottle fall and shatter on the ground, the loud noise and green glass on the pavement not bothering them at all as she pulled the soft curls on his nape and grazed her teeth against his lower lip.

His big hands slid down her waist behind her and grabbed her ass cheeks, pulling her up and making her wrap her legs around him for support, her short dress rolling up to her hips leaving her almost half naked on the street.

Using the leverage he had with the position, Javier ground his raging erection trapped inside his jeans against her core, covered only by already drenched black lace panties, earning a strangled whimper from her.

Part of him wanted to just pull her panties aside and take her right there on the street against his truck, raw and rough. But the other part wanted to take his time with her, after all it would be a shame to just resume the last few hours of teasing in just a few minutes. And also, he didn’t know if he’d had another shot with her after they got back to their professional facades.

“Are we getting inside your truck or you want to give our audience explicit content?” She tilted her head, indicating the group of people next to the club’s door, a few curious eyes lingering, waiting for their next step “Either way I’m in”

“You’re mine only, at least for tonight” His teeth dug on the soft flesh of her neck as he fished the car keys in his back pocket “But as long as I can fuck you I’m into anything you want, bonita”

Javier put her down and opened the truck’s back door, revealing the brown leather cushion dimly illuminated by the street lights.

He let her in first and watched with hungry eyes the way she crawled inside the vehicle and then rolled her body upwards, resting her back on the other door only to then slide her panties down and off her legs, spreading them open in a seductive way, offering herself to Javier, who hurriedly got inside the truck and closed the door behind him.

He pulled her by her ankle and hovered over her, his gaze connecting deeply to hers as he fished the panties she’d dropped on the car floor and put them in his back pocket, the simple yet unexpected action arousing her even more.

Javier’s hand made its way to her nape, bringing her head up for a breathtaking and passionate kiss, their hungry tongues invading and exploring each other's mouth as her fingers slid down the buttons of his shirt, undoing them without breaking their kiss.

As they devoured each other frantically, her hands explored his broad chest and abs, enjoying the feeling of his soft golden skin under her digits and the way his muscles flexed with the thrusting movements he made every now and then, purposely grinding his clothed erection against her exposed core.

Their kiss got sloppy as Javier’s hand found its way down her body, feeling her soft breasts, the curve of her hips then down the smooth skin of her thigh and leg, hooking it on his back before his hand slid up her body again but this time, skipping no beat towards her intimacy.

Javier growled when he finally felt how wet she really was for him, her arousal coating his fingers sliding up and down her pussy in feather-like touches just to tease her.

Whimpering, she rolled her eyes and clawed his back under his shirt when he increased the pressure with his digits and traced tight circles against her needy clit, her whole body melting under him as it got overpowered by shameless waves of pleasure.

Drinking in her sexed expression, Javier slid a finger inside her wanting a bigger dose of satisfaction out of the intoxicating woman under him. The unexpected invasion of his thick

finger made her moan louder and arch her back against his body, which only encouraged him to add another one right after, stretching her further, her slick pussy clenching around his fingers in response.

She bit his shoulder as he finger fucked her, his fingers massaging the magic spongy spot inside her as his thumb roled lazy circles on her clit, making her nails drag angry scratch marks down his back while her other hand pressed hard on the leather backrest, nails desperately digging in it.

Javier trailed small nips and kisses along her collarbone and neck while his fingers kepting working on her, all of it adding to the building pleasure in her lower stomach, getting her closer and closer to bursting at each expert rub of his rough digits against her clit and g-spot.

But she didn’t want to come yet, much less in that submissive condition.

Fighting against her own urges, she pulled his hand out of her, bringing it to her lips to lick her own juices off his fingers, her dark orbs drawing him in as she sucked his fingers suggestively, swirling her tongue around them.

“Now sit” She commanded, cheeks still red and heart racing from his finger fucking “And take of your shirt”

She didn’t need to ask Javier twice for him to comply, he knew she was close on his fingers, and now he wanted to see and feel what she had in mind.

Just as he took his shirt off and straightened his back against the seat, she straddled him and pulled down the top half of her dress, exposing her breasts, hard perky nipples at his mouth’s level and he couldn’t help but to dive in.

Javier fondled and squeezed them hard with both hands before he took a mouthful of one of them, teeth grazing the hard bundle of nerves, then rolling and sucking in with his flat tongue, and then repeated the same stimulation on the other one, feasting on the soft mounds before him as she unfastened his belt and unbuttoned his jeans.

Catching up with her intentions, Javier lifted his hips from the seat, enough to take both pieces of clothes off, allowing her to undress him completely, all while he still delved into her breasts.

With his thick and hard manhood free, she spread his leaking precum over his tip with her thumb, tantalizing him before she finally took it and held it against her clit, rocking her hips back and forth, arching her back towards the front seat behind her and getting herself off against his shaft, her slick blending with his precum.

Javier broke apart from her chest to gaze down between them, his cock sliding easy against her drenched folds, teasing him shamelessly.

“Condom?” He asked, but only out of politeness.

“No” She leaned in, foreheads touching as she whispered against his lips “I wanna feel all of you”

Her answer got his cock impossibly harder and dying to feel her, and for his luck, she was also getting impatient.

Javier held his breath the moment she stopped her motions right when his tip was lined to her entrance, the thrill of anticipation of finally having her making his heart race faster as his hands flattened on her thighs.

“Tell me what you want” She demanded seductively, teasing his tip pressed against her opening, torturing him with slow rolls of her hips, threatening to slide down on him at any second.

“I want you, cariño” He gasped, chest heaving up and down.

“Yeah? And what do you want me to do with you?” One of her hands cupped his jaw and brought his lips close to hers, close enough to feel his ragged breath against hers.

“Ride me, bonita, I’m yours”

She placed a soft kiss against his lips before she leaned back between the front seats and placed her hand over her mound, fingers spreading her folds apart allowing him to have a full view of where his tip met her pussy, until she finally sank on his cock, her opening slowly welcoming and swallowing him in, his thickness stretching her walls each inch as his name came out of her lips in the sexiest moan he’d ever heard, and he swore that that scene alone was enough to make him cum.

But he needed to last, he needed to feel more of her, see her, have her, every detail in front of and on him, getting him terribly pussy drunk on her at each second as he felt their bodies merging and watched his cock disappear inside of her, her walls tightening around him in a slippery and warm embrace.

He threw his head back and rolled his eyes as she started to ride him at a deeply addictive pace, his fingertips digging in the flesh of her hips, pulling her harder down on him at each thrust forward.

“Eyes on me, Javi” Her command came out as a needy whine as her hand slid down his neck towards his shoulder, the skin slapping sounds getting louder as her bounces got harder.

Javier moved one of his hands to the back of her head, fingers tangling in the roots of her hair as he now thrusted his hips up to meet hers, the new and unexpected angle made her cry out his name again and dig her nails onto his shoulders, looking for an extra leverage.

He hooked his other arm on her lower back keeping her body against his, and the way she melted in his arms only made him keep on, thrusting harder and faster against her while she held onto him for her dear life.

Without disconnecting their bodies, Javier laid her on the backseat, eager to be the one fully in charge, especially because holding his release back was being a lot harder than usual.

One of his hands took support in the car’s windows, which was completely humid and foggy and entrentched with sex as he fucked her hard, her back arching and her walls tightening around him with her climax right around the corner.

She closed her eyes and moaned even louder as he put one of her legs over his shoulder, the new angle allowing him to go even further, deeper and drive her into oblivion in record speed.

“Look at me when I’m fucking you” He demanded, bossy as the Javier Peña she was used to watch on duty, and that was the line for her to feel the knot on her lower belly snap hard, strong waves of white hot pleasure through her veins, making her cum hard and milk his cock looking deeply in his dark eyes.

The mesmerizing scene together with the clenching from her climax on his shaft also made him cum seconds after her, exploding inside her, his hot seed filling her in long spurts, the feeling of his dick throbbing inside her riding her high for a few extra seconds before they collapsed, the hand on the car window leaving a wet trail as it lazily slid down.

She moaned when he finally pulled out, instantly missing him inside her as he carefully took her in his arms and laid next to her, nestling her body against his, both their breathings and heart beats still racing fast.

“We have a problem now” He muttered looking at the car’s ceiling.

“What?” Her answer was low and unconcerned, too fucked out to care about anything at that moment.

“Office hours are gonna be challenging from now on.”

[pascalispimp]

Through the Ashes

Pairing: Joel miller x reader

Summary: Joel battles with his inner turmoil when Birdie seems to be everywhere, including in his head.

Word count: 4k ish

Warnings: Explicit🔞 Angst. Mutual pining. Smut. Unspecified age gap. Takes places after TLOU season 1. Slow burn. Reader likes to sing and play guitar. Jealous!Joel. Protective!Joel. Canon typical violence.

Chapter 2- Even in my dreams I see your face

Joel found himself in a familiar setting—his home, but it was different, filled with a warmth and light that seemed to reflect the presence of the woman standing in front of him. Birdie was there, her eyes locked on his, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips as she stepped closer. The air between them crackled with the unspoken tension that had been building for months, the desire that neither of them had dared to voice.

She reached out to him, her fingers brushing against his arm, and Joel felt a shiver run down his spine at the contact. It was as if every nerve in his body was suddenly on high alert, every touch magnified, every sensation sharpened. He could feel the heat of her skin, the soft pressure of her fingertips, and it was driving him wild with need.

“Joel,” Birdie whispered, her voice low and breathy as she looked up at him with those warm, trusting eyes. “I want this. I want you.”

Her words sent a jolt of desire through him, and before he knew it, he was pulling her close, his lips crashing down on hers in a kiss that was both desperate and tender. It was as if all the longing, all the pent-up emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface, had finally been set free, and Joel was powerless to stop it.

The kiss deepened, growing more urgent, more intense as Joel’s hands roamed over her body, memorizing every curve, every inch of her. He could feel her responding to him, her body arching into his touch, her breath hitching in her throat as their kisses became more fervent, more heated.

Everything felt heightened—every touch, every sound, every breath. The feel of her body against his, the softness of her skin, the way she whispered his name, all of it made Joel’s heart race, his desire for her almost overwhelming.

He positioned himself between her thighs, his hands gripping her hips as he moved inside her with a slow, deliberate thrust. The intensity of the sensation, combined with the vulnerability of the position, made her gasp, her body trembling with pleasure as she surrendered completely to him.

Joel set a steady rhythm, his movements controlled but powerful, each thrust designed to drive her wild, to remind her that she was his, that no one else could ever make her feel the way he did. His hands roamed over her body, exploring every inch of her, his touch firm and possessive as he claimed her completely.

“You’re mine, Darlin,” Joel growled "Don't you forget that." Birdie moaned softly, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps as she felt herself teetering on the edge, the pleasure building inside her like a storm. “I won’t, Joel. I’m yours.” She moaned softly.

Joel’s response was a low, satisfied growl as he increased his pace, his movements becoming more intense, more urgent as he drove her closer and closer to the edge. The sounds of their bodies moving together filled the room, the heat between them building with every touch, every thrust.

They moved together, their bodies entwined, their movements perfectly in sync as if they had done this a thousand times before. Joel could feel the heat building between them, the tension coiling tighter and tighter as they neared the edge. He was lost in her, in the way she looked at him, the way she touched him, the way she made him feel alive again.

But just as they were about to reach the peak, just as the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of them, everything shifted. The warmth of her body, the softness of her skin, the intensity of their connection—all of it began to fade, slipping away like sand through his fingers.

And then, suddenly, Joel was awake.

He jolted upright in bed, his heart pounding in his chest, his body drenched in sweat. For a moment, he just sat there, disoriented, trying to catch his breath as the remnants of the dream clung to him. His mind was still filled with images of Birdie—of the way she had looked at him, the way she had felt in his arms, the way she had whispered his name.

“Damn it,” Joel muttered under his breath, running a hand through his damp hair. It had felt so real, so vivid, that waking up alone, with nothing but the cool darkness of his room, left him feeling hollow and unsatisfied.

His body was still hot, still humming with the after effects of the dream, and he knew he needed to cool down, to clear his head before he lost control. But the images of Birdie, the feel of her, the sound of her voice, refused to leave him.

With a frustrated groan, Joel threw the covers off and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He needed to get a grip, needed to shake off this lingering desire before it drove him crazy. He couldn’t let his feelings for her consume him like this—not when they hadn’t even taken that step in real life. It was too risky, too dangerous, and yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

He made his way to the bathroom, turning on the cold water in the shower, the sound of the rushing water echoing in the small space as he stepped under the spray. The icy water hit his skin, shocking him back to reality, but it wasn’t enough to wash away the heat that still lingered in his body, the desire that had been stoked by the dream.

As he stood under the cold spray, Joel closed his eyes, trying to will away the images of Birdie that still danced behind his eyelids. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake her from his mind. He could still feel her—still hear her—the way she had whispered his name, the way her body had responded to his touch. It had felt so real, so right, that it was almost painful to realize that it had all been a dream.

And that was the problem.

He leaned forward, head resting against the cold tiles of the shower, his mind filled with images of Birdie—her smile, her laugh, the way she moved, the way she looked at him with those warm, trusting eyes. It was all too easy to imagine what it would be like to hold her, to touch her, to kiss her the way he’d been wanting to for so long.

His breath hitched as the thoughts took on a life of their own, the desire he’d been trying so hard to suppress bubbling to the surface. He could feel the heat continuing to spread through his body, his skin tingling with the anticipation of something he knew he shouldn’t be thinking about, but couldn’t resist.

Joel’s hand drifted down to the grip himself, his hand firmly working in repetitive motions as his mind conjured up images of her—her lips, her skin, the soft sounds she might make if he were to touch her the way he wanted to. He closed his eyes, letting the fantasy take over, his breath growing ragged as he gave in to the desire that had been building inside him for so long.

He imagined her there with him, her body pressed against his, her hands on his skin, her lips on his neck. The thought of it sent a shiver down his spine, the need for her growing stronger with every passing second. He could almost hear her voice, soft and breathy, whispering his name as she moved against him, driving him to the edge of control.

Joel’s hand continued its rhythm, his touch firm and deliberate as he sought to relieve the tension that had been building inside him since the moment he first laid eyes on her. His mind was a haze of desire, every thought consumed by the need to feel her, to have her, to claim her as his own.

But even as he gave in to the fantasy, there was a part of him that couldn’t shake the guilt, the feeling that he was crossing a line he wasn’t sure he was ready to cross. He cared about Birdie, more than he could put into words, and the last thing he wanted was to let these feelings spiral out of control, to let them take over his life.

But in this moment, with nothing but the darkness and his own thoughts, Joel couldn’t resist. He needed this—needed to feel close to her, even if it was just in his mind. His breath came in short, ragged gasps as he pushed himself closer to the edge, his thoughts filled with nothing but her—her body, her voice, the way she made him feel alive again.

When the release finally came, it was overwhelming, leaving him breathless and spent, his body trembling with the intensity of it. He stood there for a moment, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, the remnants of the fantasy still clinging to his mind.

But as the haze of desire began to fade, the guilt returned, stronger than before. He shouldn’t have let himself go there, shouldn’t have given in to those feelings. Birdie deserved better than that—better than a man who couldn’t control his own desires.

He had told himself that getting involved with Birdie was too risky—that they were better off as friends, that she deserved someone without the kind of baggage he carried. But every time he saw her, every time she smiled at him, every time they shared a moment of quiet understanding, those reasons felt less and less convincing.

He cared about her—more than he wanted to admit, more than he knew he should. But the dream had made one thing painfully clear: he couldn’t keep pretending that his feelings didn’t exist, couldn’t keep ignoring the fact that he wanted more.

But he also knew that he had to be careful, that he couldn’t rush things or push her into something she wasn’t ready for. Birdie had been through too much, had been hurt in ways he couldn’t fully understand, and the last thing he wanted was to add to that pain.

When he finally turned off the water, Joel stood in the silence of the bathroom, his thoughts still consumed by her. He knew he couldn’t go on like this—couldn’t keep pretending that his feelings for her didn’t exist. But he also knew that he had to be careful, that he couldn’t let his desire for her cloud his judgment.

Because as much as he wanted her—as much as he longed to make that dream a reality—he cared about her too much to risk rushing into something that could end up hurting them both.

But the dream had made one thing painfully clear: Birdie was already under his skin, in his heart, in his every waking thought. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake her from his mind.

Joel lay in bed, his mind racing with thoughts of Birdie. It wasn’t unusual for her to occupy his thoughts—she had a way of slipping into his mind even during the busiest of days—but tonight, those thoughts were more intense, more persistent. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way she smiled at him, the sound of her laughter, the warmth in her eyes when they talked. She had become a constant presence in his life, a light in the darkness that he hadn’t realized he needed until she was there.

He tried to push those thoughts away, tried to focus on anything else, but the more he fought it, the more insistent they became. Eventually, exhaustion overtook him, and he drifted into another restless sleep, his thoughts of her following him into his dreams once again.

----

That evening, The Tipsy Bison was alive with energy on this particular evening, the kind of night where the warmth of the crowd and the hum of conversation made the bar feel like the heart of Jackson. The wooden tables were filled with familiar faces, all of them unwinding after a long day. The usual murmur of voices, clinking glasses, and bursts of laughter filled the air, but tonight, there was an extra layer of excitement buzzing around the room.

Birdie.

She was everywhere. He saw her in the morning as she helped Maria with town logistics, in the afternoon as she moved through Jackson with a confident stride that drew everyone’s attention, and in the evenings, when she’d sometimes stop by his cabin to share a drink, her presence filling the space with a warmth that made him both crave and dread the moment she left.

It wasn’t just that she was around—no, it was how she was around. How her presence lingered in the air long after she’d left, how he caught himself looking for her in a crowd, how her laugh had a way of wrapping around his thoughts and pulling them back to her. And then there were the looks. Those long, lingering looks that passed between them when they thought no one was watching, that crackled with a tension Joel hadn’t felt in years.

She had become somewhat of a local sensation in Jackson, known for her incredible voice and skill with a guitar. On nights like this, when she felt the urge to share her music, she would climb onto the small stage at the back of the bar, strum her guitar, and draw the attention of everyone in the room. Tonight was no different.

Joel sat in his usual spot at the corner of the bar, his back against the wall, giving him a full view of the room—and of Birdie. He had arrived early, as he often did on nights when he knew she’d be performing, nursing a drink as he waited for her to take the stage. He hadn’t told anyone that he was coming specifically to watch her, but it was no secret to himself. The truth was, Joel’s feelings for her had kept festering, though he’d kept them to himself, unsure of how—or if—he should act on them.

When Birdie finally stepped onto the stage, the room’s energy shifted. Conversations quieted, and all eyes turned to her. She smiled at the crowd, her fingers gently strumming the guitar as she adjusted the mic. Joel’s breath caught in his throat as he watched her, his eyes tracing the familiar curve of her smile and the way she carried herself with a confidence that was both natural and captivating.

“Evening, everyone,” She said, her voice warm and inviting. “I’m feeling a little nostalgic tonight, so I thought I’d play something that always gets everyone moving. Hope you all enjoy it.”

As she began to play the opening chords of “Wagon Wheel” by Old Crow Medicine Show, the crowd erupted in cheers, recognizing the song immediately. The upbeat tempo and catchy melody were infectious, and it wasn’t long before people started clapping along, their excitement building with each strum of her guitar.

Joel couldn’t take his eyes off her. The way her fingers danced over the strings, the way her voice filled the room, rich and soulful—it was mesmerizing. He felt a pang in his chest, a mix of admiration and longing that had become all too familiar. Birdie had a way of drawing people in, of making them feel something deep inside, and Joel was no exception.

As her voice carried through the room, singing the familiar lyrics of “Wagon Wheel,” the crowd responded with enthusiasm. People began to rise from their seats, swaying to the rhythm, clapping their hands, and singing along. The bar transformed into a sea of movement, the energy infectious as everyone joined in the celebration of the music.

But despite the lively crowd, Joel’s focus remained on Birdie. Her voice was like a magnet, pulling him in, making him forget about everything else. He watched as she closed her eyes, lost in the music, her smile widening as she played. There was something so genuine, so pure about the way she performed, and it only made Joel’s feelings for her grow stronger.

As the song reached its chorus, the entire bar was on their feet, dancing, clapping, and singing along with Birdie. The joy in the room was palpable, and even Joel found himself tapping his foot to the beat, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. For a moment, it was as if nothing else in the world mattered—just the music, the energy, and the way her voice made everything feel a little bit brighter.

When she reached the final chorus, the crowd erupted in cheers, their voices rising in unison with hers as they sang the familiar lines:

“So rock me mama like a wagon wheel,

Rock me mama any way you feel,

Hey mama rock me...”

The room was electric, the music filling every corner of the bar and spilling out into the night. Birdie’s voice soared above it all, carrying the crowd with her as she strummed the final chords, her smile lighting up the room. As the last notes of the song faded, the bar exploded into applause, the sound of clapping hands and cheering voices echoing off the walls.

She opened her eyes, her smile widening as she took in the crowd’s reaction. She gave a little bow, laughing as she thanked everyone for their enthusiasm. The crowd began to chant for an encore, and Birdie, always gracious, promised to play another song after a short break.

Joel watched her step down from the stage, his heart pounding in his chest. He felt an overwhelming urge to go to her, to tell her how incredible she was, how much he admired her, how much he... cared for her. But as always, he hesitated. They had known each other for a while now, and though there had been moments—small, fleeting moments—where he thought she might feel the same way, Joel had never acted on his feelings.

Joel had never been good at letting people in, not since Sarah, not since the world had fallen apart. He had built walls around himself, thick and impenetrable, to keep the pain out, to keep the loss at bay. And now, here was Birdie, chipping away at those walls with every teasing smile, every flirty joke that sent a jolt of heat straight through him.

As she moved through the crowd, exchanging smiles and hugs with friends, Joel felt a pang of longing. He wanted to be the one she turned to, the one she smiled at like that. But for now, he was content to watch her from afar, to admire her quietly, even if it meant keeping his feelings to himself.

He was trying to keep her at arm’s length, trying to convince himself that it was better this way, that he couldn’t afford to let her in. But every time she was near, every time she looked at him with those eyes that seemed to see right through him, it was like a magnet pulling him closer, tempting him togive in.

But as Birdie glanced across the room, her eyes catching his for just a brief moment, Joel wondered if maybe—just maybe—there was a chance that she felt the same way.

For now, though, he would wait. He would wait for the right moment, for the right words, and for the courage to finally tell her how he felt. Until then, he would keep coming to the Tipsy Bison, watching her perform, and savouring the way her voice made his heart race every time she sang.

As the crowd settled back into their seats, Joel took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving Birdie. There would be more songs, more nights like this, and maybe—just maybe—a chance to turn the mutual pining into something more.

He didn’t have to wait long to speak to her. She walked in, her presence immediately commanding attention as she made her way to the bar. She was wearing that damn leather jacket, the one that fit her perfectly, accentuating every curve that Joel found himself unable to look away from. Her hair was loose, framing her face in a way that made her look both fierce and soft, all at once.

As she approached, their eyes met, and that familiar electricity sparked between them. Joel felt his pulse quicken, a warmth spreading through his chest that had nothing to do with the whiskey in his hand.

“Evening, Joel,” she said, her voice carrying that teasing lilt that never failed to make his heart skip a beat. She slid onto the barstool next to him, her leg brushing against his just slightly, enough to send a shiver up his spine.

“Evening,” Joel replied, his voice a bit rougher than he intended. He took a sip of his drink, trying to focus on anything but the way her thigh was pressed against his.

Birdie leaned in a bit closer, her lips curving into that slow, seductive smile that made his blood heat. “You look tense,” she said, her voice low. “Long day?”

“You could say that,” Joel muttered, his eyes flicking to her lips before he could stop himself. God, he wanted her—wanted her in a way that made his hands ache to touch her, made his thoughts stray to places he knew he shouldn’t let them go. His mind flicked to his dream, how good she would feel when she’s crying out his name.

“Maybe you need to relax a little,” she suggested, her hand brushing lightly against his arm, her touch sending a jolt of desire straight through him.

Joel swallowed hard, trying to ignore the rush of heat that shot through him at her touch. He knew what she was doing, knew she was pushing him, testing him to see if he’d finally give in. And God help him, he was close. So damn close.

But before he could say anything, before he could decide whether to pull her closer or push her away, Tommy walked in, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on Joel and Birdie.

Tommy’s eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the scene—the way she was leaning into Joel, the way Joel was looking at her with an intensity that Tommy recognized all too well. He knew his brother, knew the way he worked, knew how he closed himself off when he felt too much. And right now, it was clear that Joel was feeling a hell of a lot.

Tommy walked over, raising an eyebrow as he approached. “Well, if it isn’t the dynamic duo,” he said, his tone light but carrying an edge of something else—something like suspicion.

“Tommy,” Birdie greeted, her tone warm and friendly, but there was a hint of something more behind her eyes—a challenge, maybe, or a dare.

Joel grunted in acknowledgment, taking another sip of his drink, his eyes flicking away from Birdie as if trying to put some distance between them. But it was no use. The tension between them was thick, palpable, and Tommy could see it as clear as day.

“You two seem cozy,” Tommy remarked, his eyes darting between them, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Anything I should know about?”

Joel shot him a warning look, but she just chuckled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, you know how it is,” she said, her voice laced with that playful edge that drove Joel crazy. “Just keeping things interesting.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying the casual tone. “Interesting, huh?”

“Something like that,” she replied, her smile widening as she glanced at Joel, her gaze full of heat and unspoken promises.

Joel shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the tension in his body coiling tighter with every passing second. He could feel Tommy’s eyes on him, the weight of his brother’s curiosity and concern, but he couldn’t bring himself to look up, couldn’t bring himself to meet that knowing gaze.

“Joel,” Tommy said, his tone gentler now, more serious. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Joel muttered, though he knew it was a lie. He wasn’t fine—not with Birdie sitting so close, her presence filling every corner of his mind, making it impossible to think straight.

Tommy studied him for a moment longer, a smug smile crept on his face and he looked between the two of them. “You know,” he said slowly, his voice low, “You don’t have to pretend you don’t have a crush on lil Birdie here.”

Joel’s jaw tightened, a flash of irritation sparking through him. “Tommy, fuck off.” Tommy’s eyes flicked to Birdie, then back to Joel. “oooff! You kiss your mother with that mouth?.”

She stayed quiet, her gaze fixed on Joel, her expression softening as she saw the conflict in his eyes. She knew this was hard for him—knew that he was fighting a battle with himself every time they were together. But she also knew that there was something real between them, something worth fighting for, if only Joel would let himself see it.

“Tommy,” Birdie said seriously, shooting Tommy a glare while moving to rest her hand on Joel’s arm again, her touch gentle. Her tone softened as she leant to whisper in Joel’s ear. “Just so you know, if you do have a little crush.. the feeling is very mutual.”

Joel swallowed hard, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. He did want more—he wanted her, wanted everything she was offering, everything she made him feel. But the fear, the doubt, it was all still there, pulling him back, making him hesitate.

He met her gaze, his heart pounding in his chest as he searched her eyes, looking for any sign that this wasn’t real, that this wasn’t something he should hold on to. But all he saw was sincerity, warmth, and a fierce determination that made his breath catch in his throat.

“Darlin’,” Joel began, his voice low, strained, “I—”

But before he could finish, Tommy interrupted, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “You’re gonna mess this up, Joel,” he said bluntly, his eyes serious. “Spit your words out, old man.”

Joel shot him a glare, but the words had already sunk in, driving home the truth he had been trying so hard to ignore. He was messing this up—he was pushing Birdie away, shutting her out because he was scared of what it all meant, scared of what he might lose.

But he didn’t want to lose her. He didn’t want to keep feeling this way, torn between what he wanted and what he thought he could have.

" I should head home," Joel said, much to the confusion of Birdie. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"and Darlin?" His gaze softened as he looked at her, " You... you killed it up there tonight." He said before standing from his seat and walking towards the exit of the bar.

"Thanks Joel, i appreciate it." Birdie replied, loud enough for him to hear as he strolled out. She knew the inner turmoil that he was experincing right now, she was feeling the same, but she thought this would maybe be a step in the right direction for them.

[mermaidxatxheart]

A Day at the Fair

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Word count: 6665

Summary: the DEA are about to make a drug bust at the county fair and Javi gets distracted

A/N: thanks to @musings-of-a-rose for listening to me about all my nonsense lol

The crowd around them is loud, but Javier Peña can tune out crowds with the best of them. With a family the size of his, that loves to stick their noses where they don’t belong, he’d have to be.

His partner, however, always gets itchy in crowds. Steve Murphy isn’t a people kind of person. Or… maybe he is as long as they’re not cops. Who the fuck knows? Javi throws another dart onto the rotating dart boards. Bullseye number two.

Murphy scoffs, stuffing a nacho chip in his mouth. “How can you do that?” He asks, turning away from the booth to scan the crowd.

Their target hasn’t arrived yet and Javi is bored with a capital B. He didn’t want to do this drugs bust here at the fair, but Upper Management overruled him. Shocker. He throws another dart, almost not even paying attention and it lands on a bullseye once more.

“Patience, skill, it’s all in the wrist.” Peña shrugs.

“Whatever. I thought you didn’t like the fair.” Murphy mumbles.

“Entirely not true.” Javier says, watching a pretty girl walk by. “I just didn’t want to take down a drug dealer in front of little kids. I’ve got standards, man.” He grins, throwing the fourth dart without even looking.

“Jesus Christ.” Steve rolls his eyes with a sardonic chuckle. Bullseye number four.

“Do you want a go? We’ve got time for you to practice.” Javi teases, offering him the last dart. The booth is just a small square tent with open views on all sides so crowds can gather all around. Cheap stuffed animals are hanging from the ceiling, and Peña has his eye on a stuffed panda for his niece. In the center is a large disc that rotates around in a circle with five dart boards lying flat. If you can get all five darts in the center of any of the boards, you get a prize.

“Oh, fuck off.” Murphy mutters. “It can’t be that hard.” He takes the last dart and studies the rotating board intently.

Peña checks his watch, mostly just to mess with him. “Come on, pendejo, it’s not brain surgery.”

Murphy ignores him, as is usual, and takes his time before finally throwing it. It bounces off the metal rim and falls to the ground.

“Shut up.” He warns instantly, and Javi artfully disguises his shit-eating grin.

He pulls another five bucks from his wallet and hands it to the guy running the booth. Luckily for the two DEA agents, or maybe more for the guy running the booth, this spot has the best vantage point to keep an eye on the area of suspicion. They’ve been stuck in this area for thirty minutes at least.

“How are you not sweating, man? This heat is the worst.” Murphy says, shaking out his shirt.

“You lived in Colombia for how long? And after living in Texas-Florida heat is nothing.” He shrugs, throwing the first dart.

“Whatever, you freak. I’m gonna hit the head.” Steve tosses his nachos and wanders away.

Javi is mostly wasting time with the darts. But someone steps next to him and he’s glad Steve walked away. He throws the last dart and gets his bullseye as the pretty girl next to him watches, impressed. He gestures to the panda as his prize and you lean against the railing next to him.

“Interesting choice. I would have assumed the shark.” You say, the teasing smile evident in your voice.

Javi looks from the panda to you and back, examining it. “You think so?”

“Oh, absolutely.” You nod matter of factly.

“And why is that?” He asks, leaning next to you, keeping one eye on the area, but you have most of his attention.

“Sharks are mostly harmless until provoked. You seem like you could be dangerous, but most of the time it’s just not worth your effort.” You say.

He chuckles with a self-effacing nod. “Maybe.” He watches you tuck your hair behind your ear before you smile back up at him.

“What’s your name?” You ask.

“Javier.” He answers. “You?”

You tell him your name and he can’t help but think that it’s one of the prettiest names he’s ever heard.

“Can I ask, Javier, you don’t really strike me as the fair-goer-type. Are you having fun?” You ask.

“Why does everyone think I don’t like fairs?” He asks exasperatedly.

“Well, you did bring a gun.” You whisper, gesturing to the bump on his hip that’s his gun, covered only by his favorite Hawaiian shirt.

He starts at that. “How did you-“

You grin. “My ex-fiancé was a cop. Or, still is, I suppose.”

“Is him being a cop the reason he’s an ex?” He asks.

“No. It was the cheating, the lying, the secret family.” You tick off on your fingers like adding ‘secret family’ to the end of that sentence isn’t the most wild thing to reveal to a stranger. “I was fully ready to be married to a cop. But apparently so was his wife.” You shrug. “My dad, my uncles, my grandpa-all cops. So, lucky for you, I know not all cops are cheating dirtbags, and if I happen to meet a handsome cop at the fair and he were to buy me food or win me a prize, I wouldn’t say no.” You say and all he can do is stare as it dawns on him that you’ve actually been flirting with him this whole time. He used to be better at this.

“Peña.” His earbug crackles and it makes him jump.

“Peña, here.” He responds, never taking his eyes off your pretty face.

“Get your fucking ass ready, man. Target’s here.” Murphy says exasperatedly.

“Shit.” Javi curses.

“Duty calls?” You guess and he’s never been more annoyed at his job than now.

“Unfortunately.” He glances down at the panda in his hand. “Will you hold onto this?” He asks and you nod, taking it in your arms. “I’ll be right back.” He promises quickly before taking off.

That was stupid. He shouldn’t have promised you that.

***

You watch the most handsome man you’ve ever met jog across the green and vault himself over a low brick wall.

“Hmm.” You cross your arms over your chest, trapping the stuffed panda there for safe keeping. “Javier Peña.” You muse, walking towards the funnel cake stand nearby. You hope he does come back.

The panda intrigues you, as does the impeccable ability to throw darts at a moving target and never miss.

“I think I’ll call you Amanda, Amanda the Panda.” You tell it. “You look like you want some funnel cake while we wait.” And that’s exactly what you do. There’s a picnic bench nearby and you wait there until Javier isn’t busy anymore.

Whomever he’s arresting, they have a lot of stuff going on because it’s taking forever. You eat a funnel cake, a gyro, and some amazing brisket queso fries.

You snag a napkin not stained with grease and write your address on it. You see him hop back over the wall, heading for you and you smile to yourself.

“Sorry that took so long.” He huffs, running a hand roughly through his dark locks.

“No worries.” You smile at him. “Everything work out alright?” You ask.

“Better than we hoped.” His eyes drop to the stuffed panda tuwcked safely in your arms. “I can take that back.” He starts, reaching for it, but you twist slightly out of his grasp.

“Actually,” you hesitate and he frowns. “Amanda and I have bonded. And we’ve decided that-“

“I’m sorry, who’s Amanda?” He squints.

“Amanda the Panda. And we’ve decided to split custody. So, you can take her back tomorrow night, when you pick us up for dinner.” You tell the poor, shocked cop, handing him the napkin with your address on it.

He takes the napkin dumbly and clears his throat, a smile starting to tug at his pretty lips. “How does seven sound?”

“Like a date.” You reply, taking a step back. “See you tomorrow.”

He waves with a half salute and you disappear from his line of sight into the crowd.

Javi

“You’re really going?” Murphy asks in surprise.

“She’s holding my panda hostage.” Javi shrugs. The whole idea is absurd. But you were really fucking cute, extorting a date out of him.

Steve laughs. “I thought DEA agents don’t negotiate. What did she name the thing again?”

“Amanda the Panda. And who’s negotiating?” Peña grins, tucking his aviators on and heading out of the office’s front doors.

“Good luck with your hostage situation!” Murphy calls after him. Javier departs with a middle finger tossed behind him.

Nervously, ridiculously afraid to do the wrong thing, he buys you flowers. Not roses, that’s… a lot to get back a panda. But daisies? Absolutely.

He pulls up in front of your house and he can tell you’ve put a lot of work into it. The gardens are beautiful and in full bloom, filled with bushes and trees of a deep emerald green, flowers that are bright reds, soft coral pinks, and deep purples. Your house is a quaint one story cottage painted a pastel pink with a white trim.

He gets out of his little truck and walks up to the front door, a soft brown wood, the white paint worn down with age and sand blasting probably. A wreath made of bleached coral and seashells hangs on the door.

If this isn’t the most Florida home he’s ever seen.

He knocks solidly and it’s only a second or two before the door swings open and he’s momentarily speechless. Your hair is styled into soft curls, tempting him to reach out and touch them, run his fingers through them and make them a mess. Your lips are the softest, most delicate shade of pink. You’re wearing a sundress that is so tempting, he almost has to walk away. Thin white straps, bright red cherries with bright green stems. A gathered sweetheart neckline that shows off your heavenly curves perfectly almost has him wishing the weather was just a little bit cooler. But you’d probably find a way to torment him then, too. He can’t even force himself to look down your perfect body to see what kind of shoes you chose to destroy him with. He glances anyway. Simple white platform pumps.

Christ, he’s in trouble.

“I have to admit, I’m not sure I really expected you to show.” You tell him, drawing his attention back to your face.

“You look amazing.” He manages, handing over the flowers.

“Oh, thank you. These are beautiful.” You take them, stepping back and letting him into your home.

He’s not quite sure what he was expecting; maybe a lot of pink to match the outside, looking for all the world like an overstuffed cafe. But it’s actually quite comfortable. Soft colors: sky blue, blush pink-nothing in your face bright. The furniture is cozy without being an explosion of stuffing. It looks like a comfy beach cottage.

“I like your house.” He manages again as you set the flowers in a pretty vase on the coffee table.

“Thank you. I wanted something that reminds me of a day at the beach.” You smile at him and he loses his train of thought again. You select a soft white cardigan off the hooks by the door. “Ready to go? I’m excited to see what you have planned.” You say and he scratches at the back of his head.

“Ready.” He opens the don’t door for you and closes it behind him, waiting patiently while you lock it. “So, you enjoy being at the beach?” He asks, leading you to his little pickup truck.

“Yeah. I can’t imagine living in Florida and hating it.” You look at him curiously. “Do you hate the beach, Javi?” You ask as he opens the door for you, almost as if a yes would devastate you.

He closes it and walks around, climbing in. “No. It’s hard to chase someone in the sand, but I like the view.” He says, turning over the engine. Your perfume fills the space, swirls around him and he finds himself taking extra long breaths just to smell it longer. It’s floral, soft. Beautiful.

“Do your suspects run on the beach a lot?” You ask and he chuckles.

“No, thank god.”

“That’s good. The beach should be for fun things.” You say definitively.

“Like what?” He prompts. He could listen to you tell him things all day long. Doesn’t matter if it’s shit he already knows. Tell him again.

“Tanning, seashell collecting, skinny dipping, watching the waves and storms roll in, kissing in the rain.” You shrug. “The usual.”

He nearly swerves as you mention skinny dipping. You just might kill him. “I like your thinking.” He manages and you laugh.

“You’re adorable when you blush.” You say, half turning to face him in your seat.

“I don’t blush.” He protests.

You reach out softly and brush his cheek. “Right here. Just the cutest.” You tease and his stomach is a mess with butterflies. He captures your hand and kisses the back of it before setting it on the middle seat. But you don’t let go, instead, scooting closer, linking your arm around his and resting your cheek against his shoulder.

“Where are we going?” You ask.

“I was thinking Cuban food?”

“Oh my god, yes.” You agree enthusiastically, and he’s happy you’re so into it.

He parks outside the little restaurant and gets out, with you following him out of his door. You reclaim his hand, following him inside.

***

Javier is adorable, blushing at any little innuendo you make. You don’t think he’s innocent, just not used to being on the receiving end.

The restaurant is exactly what you would expect from a Cuban eatery. Full of life, culture, loud music, and amazing smelling food. There are couples dancing out on the cobblestone patio out back that you can spot as you’re led to a booth.

You slide all the way in, leaving space for Javi next to you if he wants, and you hope he does. He slides in next to you, arm draping comfortably on the back of the booth. The waiter sets menus in front of you and walks away to give you time to look.

You shift against Javi slightly, getting comfortable against the side of his chest, hoping that he doesn’t mind you getting so personal so fast.

“Have you been here before?” You ask.

“A couple times. The food is really good.” He says, opening one of the menus. “I like the Milanesa de pollo with white rice and black beans. Or the masitas de puerco.” He says, pointing them out on the menu.

“I get one, you get the other?” You offer and he chuckles.

“Works for me.” He agrees, flipping to the cocktails.

You’re watching him as he reads them off to you. He’s beautiful. You saw it yesterday while he was casually dominating the carnival game. But today? He looks less stressed, even if you do make him flustered.

He seems to realize you’re not really listening to him and he cuts off short, looking at you, confused. “Are you alright?” He asks and you can’t help but smile softly.

“Yeah, I’m perfect.”

The waiter comes back over and you let Javi order for you, his Spanish being far superior to yours.

“So, whole family of cops, engaged to one, looking to date another.” He starts and you’re already grinning. “Are you a cop?” He asks and you laugh.

“No. I’ve broken tradition. I was going to be a teacher, but hated it. So, now I’m a writer. I get to make my own schedule, my own office. My commute is from my bedroom to my living room.” You say and he laughs. It’s deep and a little rough.

“That sounds perfect, to be honest. Have I read anything of yours? I didn’t recognize the name.”

“Probably not. I write under a false name. I do a bit of everything-mystery, horror, romance. Whatever strikes me.” You shrug. “You also don’t seem like the type to have a ton of time to read.”

“Guilty, but maybe I’ll start.” He winks.

You clear your throat, fighting a sudden and overwhelming urge to kiss this man. He’s holding you, smelling oh-so-good, and taking an interest? Christ, you just might marry him.

“So, you know about my awkward ex. Anyone lurking in your past?” You ask.

“Oh, you know, just an almost wife.” He says so casually as he sips his drink that it’s almost payback for you doing it to him.

“Almost wife?” You press, eyebrows lifting high.

“Yeah.” He clears his throat gruffly, crunching an ice cube. “Her name was Lorraine. And she was amazing, and I left her the night before the wedding.” He says. He’s not proud of it-you can tell. But he told you, which says something to you, giving you a sense of warmth? Pride? Honor?

“Why?” You ask softly.

“It’s complicated, but the long and tall of it is that she lied about being pregnant to get me to marry her. Told me the night before the wedding that it was all fake. I couldn’t get past it.” He scratches at his chin.

“I don’t blame you.” You say, taking his hand over your shoulder. “I’ll tell you what, though.” You start, looking up at him.

“What’s that?”

“Their losses are our gains.” You say brightly and he presses a chuckling kiss to your temple, setting off a swarm of butterflies in your stomach.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself, sweetheart.”

Your food is served and not once while you’re eating does the conversation falter. You find out he’s a DEA agent. He’s recently moved back from Colombia where he was stationed. His family all lives in Texas but he only feels a little guilty for not getting back to see them often enough. But his ex is still there and that makes it awkward.

You push your empty plate away, satisfied. “Shit, that was delicious.” You sigh, patting your stomach. His eyes follow the motion and it’s hard to tell in the dim lighting, but you’re pretty sure his pupils got bigger.

“How are you at dancing?” You ask, tipping your head back to look up at him.

“I can hold my own. Would you like to dance?” He asks.

“I would love to.”

He drops cash on the table and leads you out under the string lights and pulls you close. The song switches to something slower. You don’t recognize it, but apparently Javi does. His cheek is resting against yours, holding your hand against the center of his broad chest as he dances the both of you across the semi-crowded floor. He’s humming along and you can’t help but close your eyes, leaning against him, completely at ease. You could very easily spend your days like this, dancing with him in your kitchen after dinner, glass of wine in your hand, this beautiful man in your arms.

The song ends and he pulls back from you, looking almost as reluctant as you are. “We have to go, cariño. I have more planned for us.” He says and you perk up.

“You do?”

“Of course. I need to make a good impression if I ever want my panda back.” He teases.

You grin. “Fair enough, Mr. Peña. Lead the way.” You tell him and he takes your hand, leading you out into the humid air. It’s starting to get dark and you wonder what he could possibly have planned.

He opens his door and you climb back in, sliding across the bench seat to make space for him. He climbs in next to you and gives you a smile before he starts his little truck.

You shift against him, getting comfortable once more. His big arm is around you and it doesn’t really matter to you where he’s taking you.

“Are you always this forward?” He asks, getting back on the road.

“I see no point in lying or hiding what I want.” You shrug. “I like you, I think you’re beautiful. Why would I hide that I want you?”

He gives a strangled sort of chuckle. “Jesus.” He tugs you close, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “I like the way you think, princesa.”

“Good.”

“It doesn’t bother you that I’m older?” He asks.

“Not at all. Men my age just want another mommy. Men like you aren’t looking for that, you’re more experienced, and you’re not looking to play games with my head. Either you want me, or you don’t.”

“Oh, trust me, Angelita, I want you. I can’t imagine anyone not wanting you.” He says, pulling into a drive and you recognize the drive-in theater. He buys two tickets and you smile to yourself.

Movies under the stars with Javier? What could be more perfect?

He backs his truck into a space and you look at him, confused. “How are we going to watch it backwards?”

“Come on.” He opens his door and helps you down. You wobble in the grass on your heels and he grins down at you. “God, you’re cute.” He climbs up into the truck bed and pulls out blankets and pillows.

You stare at him, surprised and amazed. Whatever you had expected from tonight, this wasn’t it. You watch him move around to make the truck bed comfortable and cozy for you. You might have to kiss him. You smile to yourself as he hops back out.

“Ready?” He asks, holding out his big hand to you.

“More than ever.” You accept and he leads you to the back.

“Want popcorn?” He asks. You nod enthusiastically and he chuckles. “Ok, doll face. I’ll be right back.” He jogs away to the concession stand a couple rows away and you slide up onto the tailgate while you wait for him. He comes back fairly quickly despite how busy the drive-in is. He sets popcorn and two sodas next to you and goes to move the speakers, setting them on the ledges of the truck bed. He comes back around and looks at you, almost waiting.

“It’s perfect, Javier.” You reach forward, hooking a finger around the top buttoned button of his shirt and pull him closer between your thighs. You press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for making tonight so wonderful.” You say softly and his eyes dip closed.

“Of course, sweetheart.” He steps back for you to get comfortable and you cross your legs, removing your heels. You set them out of the way just inside the edge of the truck bed. He lets out a soft little noise and you glance at him curiously.

“Hermosa, you’re killing me.” He sighs, sliding up next to you and taking off his dusty boots. It’s almost weird to you how watching him take off his shoes feels like something intimate. You get the feeling that he doesn’t allow himself to be comfortable around many people.

He sets his boots next to your heels and shifts himself to the back against the pillows with the popcorn and your drinks.

“Coming?” He arches an eyebrow and pats the spot next to him. Yeah, you’re gonna kiss this man until your lips fall off.

You roll and turn to crawl to him on your hands and knees until you can twist and sit next to him.

“Shit.” You hear him curse quietly and you smile innocently to yourself. Glad to know you’re having just as much of an effect on him as he is on you. You shift against him comfortably as his big arm slips around your shoulders, holding you against him. He settles the popcorn between your thigh and his where you can easily reach it. You take a piece, popping it into your mouth. His thumb is brushing soft, slow strokes against the front or your arm next to him, his own like a bar across your chest.

“Do you miss Colombia?” You ask.

“Not particularly. I was down there for my job. I’m certainly not minding being back in the states right now.” He grins down at you.

You smile back, bringing his hand to your mouth, gently kissing his palm. The smell of him is surrounding you, encasing you in everything that is Javier Peña and you never want to leave.

His hand gently cups your throat, sliding up under your chin to tilt your head back for him. He presses those soft lips to your forehead and you close your eyes, crossing your legs tightly. This man is a menace that you will gladly invite into your bed. He shifts, another kiss to your temple, your cheek, his thumb stroking your jaw.

Fuck, you’re fucking wet.

The movie starts and he lets you go, turning his attention to the screen.

Rude.

***

He has you desperately trying to hide your peals of laughter as you fight for a piece of popcorn. Every time you reach for a piece, he’s tickling your sides, or taking your hand and eating the piece out of your fingers. His soft lips trap your fingertips in his mouth, his tongue brushing against the pads, licking them free of any salt or butter. His other hand tickling your side to distract you.

It’s when he nips your fingertips that you freeze, fingers still in his mouth. That turned you on more than it was probably supposed to. He releases your fingers and you don’t immediately pull away; instead, letting your thumb brush cross his soft-as-sin lower lip.

You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you have to inhale extra and your lungs hurt. In that split second, your lips part, his gaze drops to your mouth and then you’re kissing. You don’t know who moved, maybe you both did.

His mouth on yours is like a flame, searing the air from your lungs. He licks at your bottom lip, parting you further, hands gripping at your back, and waist as you thread your fingers through his soft curls. You turn, swinging one leg over his big thighs. His hands grip your thighs, ruching up your dress as they slide up your body to your back and hair, holding you against his chest.

You rock your hips, trying anything to get closer to him, fingers deep in his soft locks. A little tug as you rock and you’re rewarded with the softest moan against your open mouth. His fingers press into your back, crumpling your dress in his possessive grip.

He breaks away from your mouth, kissing down your jaw, your throat, your shoulders as he slides the straps off.

“Hermosa, mierda.” He groans against your skin. “Por favor, can I touch you?” He whispers, and you nod, lost in the feel of him growing hard under you.

He kisses you fiercely, hand sliding under the hem of your summer dress. Soft fingertips skimming up your bare thighs as you nip at his lip, returning the kiss just as eagerly.

He pulls your panties to the side, burying his face against your bare shoulder. He groans as his pads swipe through your drenched folds, teasing your clit with little nudges.

“Cariño, all for me?” He teases. “You’ve been tempting me all night with this pretty dress.” He tells you in a whisper, rubbing tight slow circles around your sensitive little nub. He gives it a few minutes, drawing out your pleasure as it coils low and hot in your belly. You’re cupping his face, kissing him in between ragged breaths and soft moans, pleas for more. He slides his thick fingers down away from your clit towards your entrance, probing you and driving you crazy. He kisses along your neck, licking and sucking a very deliberate mark onto your skin. He nips at it, soothing it with his tongue and sucking before starting again as his fingers coat themselves in your slick before he pushes two inside your warm, velvety tunnel. He moans quietly against your chest. The stretch from his fingers alone is enough for you. You can’t imagine any other part of him yet. His thumb takes up tormenting your sensitive clit as his fingers stroke along your frontal walls easily.

“J-Javi,” your voice breaks as you try to be quiet. But all you can think about is him. The way he smells, and the way he’s clinging to you, the way his mustache scrapes against your skin, the way his tongue licks against you.

“Sh, sh, hermosa.” He coos, nibbling at your earlobe. “Gotta be a good girl for me. Gotta be quiet so all these people don’t know what a naughty girl you are, letting a cop touch this pretty pussy in public.” He says, his voice low and husky in your ear, only serving to make you wetter. You’re grinding against his hand, gasping against his cheek, clinging to him. His other arm is around you, holding you tight against him as he fingers you. “Good girl, baby. So tight, taking my fingers so good.” He praises and you’re melting against him. You lift up, body starting to tense as you try to escape the oncoming orgasm.

He catches the neckline of your dress with his teeth and pulls it down, exposing your breasts to him as you tremble, cumming on his fingers with a whine. “That’s it, baby. Such a good girl. You can give me more.” He encourages, latching onto a nipple and giving it the same treatment he gave your neck. Pleasure shoots straight to your cunt where he stokes it against your g-spot.

“J-Javi,” you gasp and he bites gently on your nipple in response. You shudder, grinding harder on his hand beneath your dress.

“Love the way you moan my name, princesa.” He fingers you diligently, never slowing down, his eyes always on you. “Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, you cumming on my fingers. Wanna keep you like this.” He moans. You push down, grinding half against his hand and half against his crotch. He’s hard and aching, you can feel him twitch under you every time you moan in his ear.

You kiss him desperately, tugging at his hair as he steadily works you higher and higher until you snap for the second time. It occurs to you, somewhere in your orgasm-muddled- brain, that he has his fingers inside you out in public where anyone walking by can see. Your tit is out on display, granted it’s crushed against his broad chest, but still.

He licks a hot stripe up the center of your chest, along your throat, to your mouth, kissing you messily. “You’re dripping down my hand, hermosa. Got you so wet.” His own deep voice cracks as you whimper against his neck. “Want you to cum again. Want you to soak my hand, baby. Drench me and give me everything you have.” He urges, fingers picking up pace inside you and on your clit. His arm is wrapped tightly around you, holding you where he wants you. He sucks on your neck again, biting your skin and fingering you furiously.

Your soul leaves your body as you convulse and orgasm on his fingers. He holds you against his lap, making you take the pleasure he’s giving you. Not letting you escape from it like you normally would. He doesn’t stop. You wonder if his fingers are tired, but he doesn’t stop, chasing orgasm number four from your body. Your inner walls are clenching around his fingers, riding them with an unknown desperation as he marks up your skin with his perfect mouth. Small whimpers are leaving your body as he drags you higher and higher and higher and higher until your body snaps and you go slack, arching back away from him as you tremble with your most powerful orgasm yet.

He lays you back on the blanket carefully, adjusting your legs to be more comfortable. He pulls his sopping wet hand out from under your dress, holding it up for you to see it glistening in the moonlight. “So fucking pretty.” He praises. “Fuck, I could watch you cum all day long.” He says, licking his fingers and giving a small moan. “You’re fucking delicious. Sweetest pussy on earth.” He says, sucking his fingers clean as you watch him through half lidded eyes. He leans over you, kissing you deeply and letting you taste yourself on his tongue. Combined with his taste, you wrap your arms around his neck to keep him there.

He indulges for just a few minutes but then shifts himself between your thighs. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I let you walk around with your cum dripping down your thighs for the rest of the night?” He chuckles, lifting your dress.

“Should be your cum dripping out of me.” You say and he grins.

“That’s for next time.” He promises, and then his tongue is on you and you forget how to exist. His hand is over your exposed tit as he buries his head in your pussy. If you thought his fingers had you seeing stars? That’s nothing to the way his tongue brushes against every inch of you. He pushes it deep inside you, slurping at you, swirling around your already quivering clit. It traces every inch of your flower, searching for the nectar you release until he makes you cum two more times and then he declares you’re decent.

You are, in fact, not decent. You should like to show him right here right now how indecent you would like to be with him, but you currently can’t move. He fingered the bones right out of your body. He adjusts your dress, covering you back up and making you proper again. He lies next to you, the both of you facing the wrong way for the movie, but you don’t even care. You curl up against him, head on his chest listening to his heartbeat.

“I’ve never cum like that before.” You tell him and he chuckles, his fingertips tracing lines down your bare arms.

“That’s a crying shame. You’re stunning, and when you cum-it’s like a whole different level. I would love to watch you cum over and over all day someday. Just to watch that face you make and hear those gorgeous noises.” He says and you feel yourself blushing. “Maybe next time, we can be somewhere for you to be loud. Wanna hear you scream my name.” He whispers and you groan.

“That probably won’t be a problem.” You admit and he laughs quietly. “Can I-“ you reach for his belt buckle, but he catches your wrist.

“This was about you tonight, hermosa.” He says, pulling your hand back up to hold it on his chest.

“You look uncomfortable.” You tell him and he chuckles.

“Reward of a job well done. I like a little bit of pain.” He says softly.

You file that bit of information away for later. “Alright, just don’t go exploding. I’d like to see you again.” You warn him and he kisses the crown of your head.

“Not to worry, princesa. I won’t explode without you.” He promises and you snuggle more against his chest, satisfied and getting sleepy.

***

Javi

He looks down at you, asleep in his arms and drops his head back down. He’s in trouble. He likes this way too much for this to be his first date with you.

The credits are rolling but he doesn’t care that you both missed more than half of the movie. He lifts his head, kissing the top of your hair.

“Hermosa,” he whispers. “Wake up, pretty girl.” He says gently rocking your shoulder. You don’t move and he gently shifts you off his chest and onto your back. He kisses your forehead, between your cute little eyebrows, the tip of your nose. One temple, then the other. He can see your eyelids fluttering. He kisses down your cheek, the point of your chin, up your other cheek.

Christ, you smell good. He nudges your head to the side with his nose, kissing down your neck, admiring his handiwork with the hickie he left. He licks at the hollow in the center at the base of your throat. He allows one small nip at your skin, soothing it over with his tongue as your face scrunches and you whine softly. He trails slow kisses down your sternum, nipping at the top of your perfect breasts. He licks there, too and you shiver as the cool breeze blows over it.

You whine again, your hands coming up to settle in his hair. He kisses down between your breasts, down over your stomach, hands bunching up your skirt, wondering how far you’ll let him go with this.

“Don’t be a tease, Peña.” You mumble, eyes still closed and he chuckles.

“Movie’s over, cariño.” He comes back up, brushing your soft cheek with the back of his knuckles.

“And?” You sigh, pulling his head to yours and he laughs, kissing you with repeated quick little pecks. “You’re such a menace.” You complain.

“I’m aware.” He grins, rolling back over next to you and you sit up.

“Do you have to work tomorrow?” You ask, rolling against his chest and looking down at him. Your hair falls into your face, tickling him. He brushes it back, taking every chance to touch you now that he knows he can.

“I’m not supposed to. But in my line of work, you never really know.” He says.

“Okay. I can live with that.” You kiss him softly and pull away too quickly. He tries to follow, half sitting up and you laugh.

“I should take you home before the bugs eat you alive.” He says, sitting up next to you and leaning back on his hands.

“Unless you want another go at it.” You wiggle your eyebrows and he laughs.

“I’m not saying no.” He turns and scoots to the tailgate, pulling his boots on. You slide next to him and he gets down, scooping you up easily.

You shriek and laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Smooth.”

He winks and sets you in the front seat. He returns the speakers, gathers up the pillows and blankets and throws away the popcorn. He climbs back in and returns your shoes.

He starts the truck and is pleased when you lean against him again. He could very easily get used to this. He drives you home, parking out front. He climbs out, holding his hand out for you. He doesn’t let it go, though, as he walks you to the front door.

You hesitate at the door, fiddling with your keys. “Can I tempt you to come inside?” You ask, looking up at him.

“Darlin’, if anyone could, it would be you. But, I think I’m going to say no tonight. I always rush into everything and this-I want to take this slow.” He says, his heart cracking at turning you down, but you don’t get mad, you just smile at him so sweetly.

“Alright.” You beckon him closer and kiss him deeply, arms wrapped around his shoulders, on your tiptoes, fevered. He returns it, hands bunching into fists against your back.

“Christ, woman.” He pulls back, heart racing and breathing hard. Luckily, you look just as flushed as he feels. “Can I see you tomorrow?” He asks.

“Pending any major drug related emergencies? Absolutely.” You nod and he grins.

“It’s a date. Breakfast? I have plans.”

“I can be up in time for breakfast.” You agree.

“Perfect. Goodnight.” He says softly and makes sure you get inside and the door locks before he walks back to his truck. He climbs inside, grinning like an idiot. And it isn’t until he starts the engine that he remembers the stupid panda.

“Fuck.”

[dolly-on-the-dotted-line]

Interlude: Dumbstruck

You face up to a very adult problem in Javi’s absence that leaves you questioning your future forever.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Angst, Discussion of Pregnancy, Pregnancy Loss, Miscarriage, Medical Setting.

A/N: Major trigger warning for this one. If you don't want to read this post, you will not lose anything from the story. There are no major plot developments or changes in their relationship. You can skip it out, or if you'd like a summary I will happily send you one. Further discussion under the cut.

Major confession that I've had this sat in the drafts for... years now due to the above, and not yet having anything lighter ready to publish to follow up... But today is the day. And happier things soon after!!

I've kept descriptors to a minimum for obvious reasons, as well as the fact that this is obviously only one experience based on personal anecdote- please don't take this as gospel, nor a universal experience. This was originally planned to be a whole chapter but I was struggling with the heavy themes and aware that it's not everyone's cup of tea. However, I still felt like it added some important insight so wanted to keep it in some capacity so have decided to post it anyway. Keeping it as an 'interlude' also felt quite representative of the experience, in the sense that often it's an event that happens unbeknownst to people on the outside, but is a weight you carry with you. Reader/ Bug will carry on with the knowledge of that experience with her, but others will continue to move on around her none the wiser, and you can choose to do the same if it's a post you don't wish to read.

New York, Spring, Age 30: Dumbstruck

The dial tone lasts for an eternity, you’re sure. You try to focus on the way your heartbeat thrums between the beeps, double time nearly, thud, thud, thud, like a bird throwing itself against a glass pane. The skin at the edge of your fingernail is worn clean, blood starting to pool in the cuticle. 

You hear the scrape of the receiver being lifted and a voice finally calls, the raspy accent filling the line.

“This is Murphy.” 

“Hey Steve, can I speak to Javi, please? Now. I need to speak to him now.” 

“Bug? Are you alright? You sound like you've seen a ghost. If that were possible.”

Your interactions with Steve Murphey so far had been limited.

By that, you meant you had spoken to him on the phone maybe twice, and on both occasions, you were trying to get through to Javier. The fact he’s able to recognise you immediately in spite of that is intriguing to you, and at any other moment, you’d take the time to consider the tone of affection he takes with you in just one sentence. 

You try to keep your tone light but it’s impossible, the panic rising up in you like a tidal wave. You must sound worse than you think because he’s onto it in a second.  

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you mumble to yourself and reach out to steady your frame against the wall in the hallway of your new apartment. 

“Now,” you seethe, losing your guard completely, the tears starting to bubble at your eyelids as you lean your head back in frustration to rest on the setting plaster. 

You hear the phone ripped from Murphy’s hand in a muffled frenzy and Javi’s there, breathing down the line. 

“Javi-”

“What is it? Are you hurt?”

You sob then, immediately, hearing his voice, the weight of the situation finally hitting you with full force. 

“I’m- I think I’m having a miscarriage,” you breathe, deadpan, utterly in shock as you hear the words pass your lips for the first time since you’d started to process.

“I can’t be sure, but…” your voice trails off quietly, giving up the guise. 

It had taken you long enough to get your head around, already stunting the phone call by at least ten minutes as it was. In reality, there was no ‘think’ about it. You knew. It was impossible not to know. 

Silence from the other end of the line. You hear something smash to the ground, Murphy’s indistinct words, the slow, rattling intake of Javi’s controlled breath. 

“You’re pregnant?” he asks slowly, quietly, as though the words are arriving before the thoughts that spur them. 

“No, I’m fucking not,” you yell between clenched teeth, trying to contain the overwhelming rage that’s bubbling up inside you. “Not now I’m not.” 

Another devastating pause, and you feel the way your fingers instinctively grip the cord of the phone a little tighter, awaiting his response. 

“Is it-?”

“Please, don’t,” you cut sorely, “don’t ask me that fucking stupid question right now. Javi, I’m so scared.”

You clap your hand to your mouth as the sobs start to pour out, giving in completely. The emotion is overwhelming, fear, shock, and surprise moving over you in relentless, intersecting waves, with no time to differentiate one from the next. 

“Okay,” he replies firmly, taking the wheel in the only way he knows how. “Okay, it’s going to be okay.”

His tone is strong and soothing, and you can’t help but lean into its gentle familiarity. You wanted to give it up, to give over to him entirely and let him make it all okay. 

“It must have been the couch,” he can’t help but shoot down the line, more to himself than to you. 

“Javier.” 

In the complex swell of your emotions, above all else you’re seething, unable to even fathom the possibilities surrounding what's happening right now.

You carrying his child. His baby. A life together, as forced as it may have been, suddenly wilting away without even a chance to romanticise the prospect. It was gone in the blink of an eye before you even knew you had it. 

You’re furious. Like everything else, it wasn’t fair.

“I need to go home,” you sigh, trying to brush away the tears with a shaking hand as you draw together some kind of plan in your head.

You were already compartmentalising, packing away the thoughts you couldn't give yourself even a moment to dwell on. 

“You need to go to the hospital. That’s the only place you need to be right now. I’ll call you straight back and I’ll be there as soon as I can but you need to get some help right now, baby. I need you to call someone who can help you out until I arrive.” 

‘Baby’. In the heat of the moment, it was always ‘Baby’. Like it was a slip of the tongue reserved for special occasions; weddings that weren’t even yours. Anniversaries. Children. 

But in your temperamental state, it knocks you sideways anyway, pushing you off kilter and bringing the tears to the brink again.

“Javi, please,” you keen, unsure of what you're even asking for.

You’re scared, achingly so, more so than you’d ever felt even when you were a child. This was something else, something new. You needed something stable and solid to hold on to, and he was a thousand miles away. 

“I know, baby, I know. But you need to do this, for me. Just be brave and I’ll be back on the line in just a tick. Just make the call.”

You slam your fist against the phone cradle in frustration, resetting the dial tone without another word, and thumb in the number without even looking at the keys. As always, it rings once. 

“Rosie?” Rasps Jack, ready and waiting, business smart except for the nickname, his favourite turn of phrase. 

“Emergency,” you eke out, sinking to the floor now as you feel the sensation start to sink in, heartbreak rather than consternation hitting for the first time. 

“Are you at home?” He’s deadly serious, the professional front fitting into place like a reflex. 

“Yes. Medical, call Ginger. I need an ETA of 10 or less. Hospital transfer, the car will do.”

“Are you safe? Are they still in the apartment?”

“No external risk. Code O0-,” you hold your breath for the final digit, finally making it a complete reality, “3. Potentially 3.3, I’m not sure right now, I can’t remember the ICD codes.” 

He hears your crying now. He understands. His heart breaks for you. 

“Rosie,” he breathes.  

“Please Jack, just deal with it. I’m failing every one of my training protocols right now, I know, but I just cannot handle what is happening right now. I can't do this.” 

“I’m on it. Stay put. Just stay by the phone. Breathe.”

You can hear his pager going off, the shuffling of the papers moving across his desk as he stands to leave.

“And whatever you do,”  he adds staunchly, “don’t look.” 

“‘Don’t look’?” you repeat, but when you lift your hand from the plasterwork where you’d been steadying yourself, you see it, the way the harsh red seeps into the porous craftsmanship. 

“How do you-”

“Just trust me, Darlin’. I’ll be there soon.” And the line rings dead. 

Left alone, truly alone, you slump to the ground and ruminate in comfortless solitude. In the quiet stagnation of your apartment, you can only defer so far. It's fruitless to fight it. For just a moment, you let yourself sit, and think, and wait.

Jack had barely left your side in the ER, vigilant and dutiful.

His straightforward attitude was soothing and efficient, and allowed for a rare moment of surrender as he handled the overwhelming process of the inpatient clinic. Sitting by his side, you took a quiet comfort in the way his personal concern occasionally bled into his unrelenting professionalism, appreciating every squeeze of your hand, each cup of cold coffee, and every form you didn't have to read and sign. 

When night came, Javi took his place, arriving on the first non-stop flight to Newark Liberty. He didn't even bring a backpack, just an unread paperback and his keys. 

You try to picture the two men crossing paths in the hallway, shaking hands, nodding heads.

They’d never met. What absurd circumstances to finally come face-to-face, each an urban legend in their own right.

When he climbs up next to you to hold you close to him in the hospital bed, jacket, shoes and badge still in place, you break, the sobs wrenching from your chest like nothing you’ve ever known. There was nothing to hide, nothing to lose. 

“Was it ours?” he eventually asks, his forehead never leaving your own, his voice a quiet whisper in the cavernous space of the dim room.

“Of course it was ours,” you sigh, bone-weary, drained and devastated. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t know,” you say, frankly, the candour obvious in your upfront sentiment. “I wasn’t due for a medical until next month.” 

“You didn’t suspect?”

“I’ve been busy. I didn’t really think, work has been a lot.” 

“Would you have kept it?” he asks, more tentative still, aware of how precariously close everything feels as he reels off his pressing questions. 

You hesistate, but not for long. 

“Yes, probably. I’m in love with the idea of it more than anything. It’s irrelevant now, but-”

“It’s not irrelevant," he interrupts quickly. "Don’t say that. How can something we made be irrelevant?” 

His fervour takes you back, even in its hushed whisper. 

“Made by accident,” you huff back frustratedlym “it’s not like we knew-”

“Well, so what? We’d have been just fine. I know that. It wouldn't have mattered. We-" 

“Mr. Peña," you hear from the open doorway, the tone firm but kind. "We don’t allow visitors overnight I’m afraid, only family.”

He doesn’t turn to the attendant before he replies, simply gripping you tighter, pressing his legs into yours as he holds your taut frame against his own.

“I am family.” 

“Alright then,” she replies without complaint, clearly not seeing the merit in pushing it. “I’ll see you both in the morning.”

You’d been alone for less than ten minutes before he came skulking back into the room, black coffee and another round of toast in hand.

He was reluctant to be away from you for longer than a minute at a time, you could tell. He used to get like this when you were sick, or when you’d be sent home to bed from gym with bad cramps. 

They’d said the tub was the best place for you at home. The heat would help, the chaos contained. He kneels down on the floor next to you, resting his arm on the enamel and laying his chin on top. 

"How are you feeling?" he asks again, and you caress his cheek with a wet hand. 

"Not great, but better. The peanut butter is helping."

You crack a feeble smile, but you can see the look in his eye is heavy. 

“Querida, I don’t want to waste any more time.” 

You bring yourself closer through the water so that your head is resting next to his, close enough for your noses to touch. He brings a hand up to tuck a strand of wet hair behind your ear, and rubs his thumb across your cheekbone. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, but you know what he's saying, what he's asking. The impossible situation.

His face says as much.

“Javi, please,” you sigh, but you laugh quietly as you say it, “you know it’s not as simple as that. If anything this has proved it.” 

“I don’t care,” he replies candidly, but the frustration in his voice is the overriding detail. “I don’t want to care. It shouldn’t matter. Not after things like this.” 

“Javi, you just moved. You’re fighting the war on drugs for goodness sake. You really think now is the time to have a baby? To be a father?”

“I don’t care. Whatever happens with us, whenever, is the right time. You’ve always said that. I should have been here. It could have been different.” 

“Don’t talk like that. Not right now. Just tell me everything’s going to be alright. We’ll get it together one day. We’re young” 

“Not as young as we were,” he scoffs. 

“Twenty-eight! That’s certainly not old, Javier.” 

“Why can’t you just… give in? I’d have left. If you asked. I will leave. If you ask.”

“No, actually, I don't think you would," you ponder, shaking your head slightly, "and I wouldn’t ask you to. Not even now.” 

Your blunt words appear to stump him, and whatever the next line of his argument was is lost and replaced with a tender kiss to your bare shoulder, his bottom lip sliding along your damp skin.

“I’m sad, Ladybug." 

“So am I, Javi,” you sigh, and when you feel his quiet tears on your shoulder, you let your own follow suit. 

You shift in his arms, rolling onto your back to stare at the clear night through the skylight. It was a familiar reminder of home, one you were enjoying today. 

“When are you off?” you finally ask, the question becoming the second most unavoidable topic in the room.

“First thing. I shouldn’t even really be here.”

“I’m glad you are. I hope you’re not in too much trouble.” 

“If I am, I am. It's a hard one for them to argue with, really." 

He curls himself around you and cradles your stomach, quietly mourning the loss of something that never really was. Another future together, gone before you even had the chance to consider it. 

You fall asleep wrapped in one another, just like always. But before you drift off, for one night, you talk about a future that you’ll never have.

“We couldn’t call her that,” you scold indignantly. 

“Why not?" he retorts, smirking innocuously. "We never call you it. It’s a nice name.” 

“It’s my mother’s name. That’s exactly why you never call me that. What kind of narcissist names their child after them?”

“Most people. My Mother’s name, then. That makes more sense, surely. Everyone loved her.”

“Pa would weep,” you sigh, lovingly.  

“In a good way.”

“Would you want it to be a girl?”

He smirks, rubbing his nose against your shoulder. 

“Maybe. I wouldn’t care. I’d be too excited about seeing you big and fat. Carrying my brood.”

“Why do you make that sound so filthy?” you scold. 

“I’m just trying to put a positive spin on the prospect of another shotgun wedding.”

You elbow him sharply in the ribs, and he laughs. 

“I could be your little harlot. We could live out of wedlock. Social exile.” 

“Not a chance," he scolds, feigning shock. "I’m a man of God. We don’t actually want to kill Pa."

You snuggle into him closer, turning in his arms to come and face him. 

“Do you think our family has any idea, at all?”  

The look on his face is passive, but you can see the words settling somewhere. You don't know if it's the talk of home, or of something bigger; the idea that your summer fling surmounts to so much more when you give it the space to exist.

“I don't know. I wonder sometimes if Pa knows, deep down. I feel like he’s asked me before, in more ways than one. I think he asked when I told him about Lorraine. Like it was a loaded question, you know?"

"They always are with him."  

“Do you think they know?” he asks. 

“I don’t think they’d be surprised, necessarily. Like it’s an inevitable thing, almost.”

He holds your face between his hands then, drawing it away from his so he can look at you clearly, pulling the damp strands of hair away with broad strokes of his thumbs.

“Do you think it is? Inevitable?” 

“Yes," you whisper, a clean answer, cutting through the mirth.

He kisses your upturned lips, tracing them over with the pad of his thumb before finally letting you go.

“I hope you’re right.”

“You know I always am.” 

A/N: I know I mentioned dates before but I’ve actually broken my own timeline here since technically Murphy wouldn’t be in Colombia until they were at least 30, but I figured for the sake of continuity it made sense here.

Also please let me know if I've missed anyone from the tag list! I has been such a very long time 🌚

Playlist Recommendation

Taglist

@furious-rogue-stuff

@athalien

@sara-alonso

@vanemando15

@chronic-nosebleed

@mashomasho

@hnt-escape

@angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@hylasposts

[lady-bess]

May 2024 Fic Recommendations

Here are my May fic recommendations! Not all of these fics were released this month, I might have just read them, or some of their chapters, this month!

Please see the individual warnings/ tags on each of the fics below!

Don't forget to support your favourite authors by liking, commenting, and reblogging! 💕

Tumblr fics

"Home" by @morallyinept (Joel Miller x F!Reader)

"Broken Without You" by @sourwolf-sterek32 (Joel Miller x F!Reader)

"Big Sky Country" by @avastrasposts (cowboy!Frankie x OFC)

"Palomino" by @fuckyeahdindjarin (Jack Daniels x F!Reader)

"Love at First...Fight" by @goodwithcheese (Jack Daniels x F!Reader)

"Braces" by @joels-darlin (Jack Daniels x F!Reader)

"Making It Up To You" by @agentwhiskeysdarlin (Jack Daniels x F!Reader)

"Forget" by @palioom (Jack Daniels x F!Reader)

A03 fics

"Under Your Skin" by @wannab-urs (Jack Daniels x Javier Peña x F!Reader)

"Ghostly Touch" by @absurdthirst & @wardenparker (Jack Daniels x F!Reader)

Masterlist of all fic recs

[mandoshoney]

to all you gorgeous writers,

thank you and i love you. your stories bring me so much comfort, and sometimes even give me hope that maybe life is as beautiful as you write it to be. in lieu of pressing my burdens on you all, i’ll just say that i’ve been struggling, badly. and i always turn to your beautiful words and stories that are just, interwoven with devotion for your craft. i know this space isn’t always the kindest and it’s so easy to become discouraged, but just know your talent and hard work is being recognized. you’re a gift. maybe i sound pathetic, raving about how your work has held me close when no one could, but it’s the truth! thank you so so much.

[callsign-joyride]

Could I request prompts 9 and 13 with Javier for Summer of Smut please?

Object of My Desire | Javier Peña

Summary: Being forced to share a room with Javier while traveling was less than ideal. It was even more of a nuissance when you had to share a bed.

Content warnings: SMUT (18+), oral (f receiving), protected p in v

Prompts: “Stop wiggling around, I’m trying to sleep! Wait… what’s tha… oh!” + “I know you said no marks… But what if I put them where nobody except for me will see them?”

Author's note: This is my first time writing for Javier. I made some changes to my taglist form but I will still be tagging people from my TGM part of the taglist. If you don't want to be tagged in my Javier stuff, let me know.

This was written for my Summer of Smut writing event. Feel free to send in requests!

Taglist form (Google form, email is not asked)

You fucking hated traveling with Javier Peña. Aside from the fact that he was generally annoying to be around, he liked to backseat everything that he wasn’t in charge of. You wanted to travel alone but Steve wouldn’t allow it, saying that it’d be “too dangerous” even though you had the same training and experience. Needless to say, you were almost at the end of your fuse when the plane landed. You wanted to sleep on the plane but Javi wouldn’t shut up about how horrible the pilot was. (You didn’t even think he knew how to fly a plane, anyways.) When you tried to read your book, he still wouldn’t stop complaining about everything and a baby started crying. There was a moment of relief as you checked into the hotel for the night.

“You got lucky tonight, miss. This is our last room available,” the lady at the front desk said. You smiled and took the room keys, handing one to Javi and making your way to the elevator with your bag. Javi ended up being in front of you as you walked to the room, so he was the first one. He opened the door to the room and laughed, and you knew that couldn’t have been a good sign.

“Get out of the way. I wanna see what’s so funny,” you said as you shoved him and blindly walked into the room.

There was only one bed. Of course there was. The receptionist never clarified that. She probably thought that you and Javi were a couple.

“Give me that phone book. I’m calling other hotels,” you said as you sat on the bed.

“I’m sure they’re all booked out, too. Plus do you really think the government is gonna pay for you to get a room by yourself?”

“You’re an insufferable asshole. I’m not sleeping with you. I’ll pay for a room myself if that’s what it takes.”

“Fine. Have fun trying to look for hotels. I’ll be right here if you need anything,” he said as he laid on the bed and started reading his book. He was trying not to laugh as you sounded angrier by the minute. You put the phone on the receiver for the last time and glared at him.

“Well, I just called every hotel within a ten mile radius and they’re all booked out. Congratulations on being right, I guess.”

You started to unpack your things while Javi flipped through the channels on the TV. Most restaurants were closed when you checked in to the hotel, but Javi offered to go and get some tacos from one of the food trucks in the area. It took a few minutes of arguing for him to finally leave on his own. You laid on the bed with the phone and the receiver on your chest, dialing Steve and Connie’s number, hoping that someone would pick up. Connie picked up and, even though you loved talking to her, you were more focused on yelling at Steve.

“Can you put your husband on the phone? I’m gonna kill him,” you said. She chuckled and you heard some mumbling before Steve’s voice was in your ear.

“How was the trip?” He asked.

“Murphy, you’re fucking dead. First of all, Peña likes to think that he can control everything. He wouldn’t shut up on the plane about how ‘it’s not how you’re supposed to fly’. Does he even know how to fly a plane? And then we get to the hotel and the receptionist tells us that it’s the last room available. There’s only one bed in this hell hole. I spent thirty minutes calling every hotel within a ten mile radius and they were all booked, too.”

You rolled your eyes as Steve laughed on the other end of the phone.

“Wait a minute, did you plan this?” You asked.

“What if I did? Give him a chance. He’s not as bad once you get to know him.”

“I think he is. You didn’t have to suffer on a six hour flight with him next to you, babbling about how horrible it is that things aren’t going his way. Guys like him are why I like to do all of my work alone. He might be on his way back. I might kill someone.”

Steve chuckled.

“You’re not gonna kill anyone. Have fun. I’ll see you in a couple days, okay?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Javi came back with tacos and you quickly ate before getting your pajamas and heading for the shower. He had his eyes on you as you opened the door to the bathroom to let the cool air in while you brushed your teeth.

“Those are your pajamas?” He asked as he gestured to the tank top and shorts that you were wearing. You spit your toothpaste into the sinking and rinsed off your toothbrush, leaving it on the counter. 

“Yeah. I didn’t think it’d be a problem. This is what I always sleep in,” you said.

“You might as well not be wearing pants, princesa.”

It was going to be a miracle if both of you walked out of the room in the morning with both of your lives intact at this point.

“Don’t be a pig, Peña.”

You decided to read the book that you brought until you were going to fall asleep. Javi got up and brushed his teeth and took his clothes off at some point, but you were too invested in your book to notice.

“What are you reading, anyways?” He asked. You showed him the cover of the book while you were still reading.

“A western? Are you serious?”

You sighed and put the book down.

“I bought it at the airport because I knew I’d need something to do.”

“You didn’t get a classic like Frankenstein or Pride and Prejudice?”

“I can’t believe you just put those in the same sentence. And no, I didn’t, because I wanted something that would actually keep me entertained. Look at where that got me. I couldn’t sleep or read on the plane so, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna turn my light off and go to bed. I hope you do the same. At least you’ll be quiet.”

“Ouch.”

Javi turned off his lamp and wrapped his arms around you once he got in the bed. You didn’t object. It felt nice to be held by someone. But you couldn’t get to sleep because he wouldn’t stop wiggling around.

“Will you stop wiggling around? I’m trying to sleep. What’s - oh.”

Now that you had drawn attention to it, you were both aware that Javi was turned on. You could feel his length press up against your ass but you weren’t sure if you wanted to do anything about it. You were almost positive that you’d scoot away from him and act like it never happened, but it seemed like Javi had other things in mind as he turned you in his arms so that you were facing him. He took your hand in his and guided it to the bulge in his boxers. The primal urge to kiss him took over and you pulled him in by the hair on the back of his neck. The kiss was a battle of tongues and teeth as he slid your shorts and panties down your legs. He shoved his boxers down and rested his cock against the inside of your thigh.

“So wet for me,” he said as he rubbed his fingers between your folds. He started to kiss your neck and you winced and yanked his head away as he started to suck on your sweet spot.

“You can’t leave marks. We gotta work, y’know?”

He sighed, “alright.” 

He lifted your leg onto his shoulder and left kisses down your chest. You let out a shaky breath as he was level with your glistening cunt. His mouth was on you in an instant and you would’ve been lying if you said it didn’t feel good. He looked into your eyes while he ate your pussy like a starved man and you started moving your hips with the rhythm of his tongue. Your thighs tightened around his head as you came when he ran his tongue along your clit.

“You’re so pretty when you cum,” he said.

“Want you inside of me.”

Javi nodded his head and got up to grab his wallet. He pulled a condom out and put it on the nightstand before standing in between your legs and leaning down to kiss you. He stopped for a moment to slide the condom on and move you up the bed with a pillow under your back for extra support.

“Fuck,” he said as he eased himself inside of you, “I know you said no marks, but what if I put them where no one except for me will see them?” He asked. You moaned a yes and he was beginning to slowly thrust while he put love bites on your chest.

“Fuck - please, go faster,” you said. He nodded and groaned into your ear when he started to really pick up the pace.

“You’re so tight. I don’t know if I’m gonna last,” he said. 

“It’s okay. You’re big and I’m already close.”

Javi nodded and started thrusting into you faster. His thrusts became more erratic and you knew he was close. You wrapped your legs around his hips while he rubbed your clit, making both of you cum. He laid with his head in the crook of your neck for a few minutes before pulling out of you and throwing the condom away in the bathroom trash can. He came back with a warm towel and helped you clean up before going back to holding you in his arms.

“I wonder how long it’ll take for Murphy to notice,” he said.

“Don’t say that.”

Steve didn’t need to figure it out. You let it slip to Connie when you were getting drinks one night and she obviously told him. Only, you didn’t know that until he strolled by your desk one morning saying, “What did I say? He’s not so bad once you get to know him,”.

Taglist:

@littlebadariell @cycbaby @luckyladycreator2 @idontcare-11 @blue-aconite @maverick-wingman @shawty-fenty @littlemisstopgun @rosiahills22 @katieshook02 @justanothermagicalsara @caitsymichelle13 @smoothdogsgirl @adoringsebstan @cherrycola27 @alexxavicry @mrsjaderogers @mak-32 @thefandomimagines @tallrock35 @caatheeriinee07 @bradshawseresinbabe @atarmychick007 @3sriracha @genius2050 @halstead-severide-fan @withakindheartx

[second-axis-point]

HI can i request some thigh riding with oberyn Or Javier Peña

Thank you<3

Pairing: Javier Peña x Male!Reader

Content: Smut, Thigh Riding, Established Relationship

Warnings: None!

I flipped a coin between Javier and Oberyn so if anyone wants some more Pedro character's smut, my requests are open. 😙 Anyway, here’s some thigh riding w Javier and thanks for the request! 💙

Long Day

Javier got home after a relatively easy day of paperwork and waiting. He came into the apartment and called your name before remembering that you were probably still at work. He flopped down on the couch and flipped on the tv, hoping that it’ll pass the time. He flipped through a few channels before he heard your car pull into the driveway. Javier settled on a channel that you'd probably both like if you decided to sit down with him.

He watched you walk in the front door. You were home a bit early but he wasn’t complaining. He saw that you were still in your uniform with your stethoscope still around your neck. You looked tense and frustrated.

“What’s going on, cariño?”

Javier asks as he gets up and tries to walk over to you. You quickly made your way over to him and put a hand on his chest. You pulled your stethoscope off your shoulders and put it on the coffee table. You pushed him back down onto the couch and climbed into his lap. Javier was surprised that you were being so forward but he didn’t mind. He put his hands on your hips as you grind against his thigh. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply without warning. Javier pushed you back slightly. 

“What happened today?”

He asks. You stop your movements for a moment.

“Just a rough day. We had a million calls today and I’ve been all around town for false calls or people freaking out over nothing and it drove me insane.”

Javier nodded and pulled you in again. Now that he knew you were alright, he was going to help relieve your tension. As you kissed, Javier started to pull your trousers down only enough to rub his hand against the obvious bulge in your pants. You moaned into his mouth and bucked your hips against him. You got off of Javier’s lap so you could pull your trousers and boxers down. Your achingly hard cock sprung free and you sat back in your boyfriend’s lap. You immediately started rutting against his leg, feeling the fabric of Javier’s jeans on your bare cock. You leaned forward and rested your forehead on his shoulder so you could watch yourself ride his leg. Javier started leaving open-mouthed kisses along your neck, listening to your low moans. Precum started to leak from the tip of your cock and dribbled down onto Javier’s jeans.

Javier unzipped his jeans and pushed his own boxers down enough for him to start jerking himself off, watching you rut against his thigh to get yourself off. Your head is still resting against his shoulder and your eyes are glued to his hand and your cock. You needed release and Javier would let you use his thigh until you got it. You started to feel the familiar warmth pool in your stomach as you started to buck your hips faster. There were streaks of precum settling on Javier’s jeans which turned him on beyond belief. Your thrusts became sloppy and you whined desperately. Finally, you felt the heat in your stomach burst and ropes of cum spilled out onto your hand and Javier’s thigh. Your back straightened and your toes curled as you released onto your boyfriend.

“Fuck.”

You swore quietly, your eyes turning back down to your cum now settling on Javier’s jeans. It didn’t take him long to get close as well. He tossed his head back and moaned loudly. You quickly got to your knees and put the head of his cock in your mouth. Javier let out a long string of moaned curses, not expecting you to start bobbing your head. A few seconds later, Javier was cumming down your throat. You swallowed what you could and lapped up the rest off his pulsing cock. He put his hand on your shoulder and pulled you back up to kiss you quickly, moaning when he tasted himself on your lips. You sat next to him on the couch and regulated your breathing. Both of you were satisfied. You looked back down at the wet spots on Javier’s jeans and smiled.

“We should shower.”

Javier said after he came down from his high. You nodded but didn’t get up yet, still staring at your cum drying on your boyfriend’s thigh.

[for-a-longlongtime]

Songs and musings in the Key of Peña-Rockford

(Those gun holsters have me all fucked up. Seriously.)

I warned y'all about how obsessive my hyperfocus can get, right? Damn ADHD. The choke hold (all the puns intended) that this fic idea has on me is unreal, haha. But all of your comments and encouragements about this Rockford Pena WIP are making me so happy and relieving some of the stress I feel about writing it - thank you! I don't have another snippet to share just yet (so I hope this post isn't too much of a cock tease), but since I always love to read about character thots and writing processes (e.g. the extra posts by @mysterious-moonstruck-musings about her Destiny & Deliverance series, and @gracieispunk with her White Lotus posts), I figured I'd post a little update with some musings and songs I'm associating with this fic.

My Spotify currently is curated by @sin-djarin, who somehow knew just the right songs that relate to this WIP. Particularly these three tracks are on constant repeat. Going back and forth with her about little things that come up, or question ‘why this and not’ has been so much fun really. It makes me giddy because it turns the fic into something collaborative rather than just something from the inside of my brain, you know?

Whisper - Morphine

I included this track the other day already with the WIP snippet; it’s sexy and slow and that bass line really gets to me, then the saxophone ups it even more. @sin-djarin sent me several Morphine songs (I have to admit that somehow I wasn’t familiar with them) but this one stands out. The push and pull that’s happening in the lyrics is also delicious, and a lot of it feels like it’s coming from Rockford’s POV about Javi - that’s all I’ll say about it for now.

A Perfect Twist - Mike Patton

This song has an exuberant, rather bombastic vibe to it that I would’ve never associated with anything related to Peña. Although, those lyrics... they are definitely about brat taming.

I'll bend you over my knee Let's see what you can take You're never gonna break

And I'll squeeze that noose a little tighter Breathing like a snake How much can you take? You're never gonna break

And I'll turn those screws a little tighter You can hardly wait You're never gonna break

Just one more twist of the pliers Got you on the brink How much can you take? You're never gonna break

There’s something about the dizzying tune and pace that somehow evokes the noir-like Rockford vibes in the Merge Mansion clips, laced with liquor and cigarette smoke and things spinning kinda out of control.

Wait who said Masquerade Mansion? 🎭

In relation to these two?

Shhhh let’s pretend you didn’t see that. Keep your eyes wide shut. 🎭

Broad Daylight - Gabriel Rios

This is the only song that suddenly came to me re: this fic, and I was all… the fuck is this. I like the song, it's catchy, but it just didn’t make any sense to me with regard to Javi and Tim. The only thing I could think of in relation to the track was maybe a vague reference of Peña getting caught up with Los Pepes, things that were done in the dark and shouldn't come out in the daylight:

Back in the old days, tight like a fight Used to hang with the devil in the broad daylight

But still, it puzzled me. I think something in one of the Morphine songs musically led me to Broad Daylight, weird as that may sound. After way too many replays of that song (and @sin-djarin joking about 'what are those Polaroids Tim has on Javi?', since the song mentions polaroids), the relevance of the song finally clicked with me;

Look at you shaking you can't find his plight Got you scared of ghosts in the dead of night While you're making up stories trying to make it ok He'll be bringing them in to let them out and play In the broad daylight

We'll see how it goes from there.

At some point, there's also going to be a bit of Marcus Pike in the fic (pancakes!). I have to be honest - I don’t really read a lot of Marcus!fic, so I’ve been trying to figure out how he fits in and some of his character traits etc. But the wonderful @secretelephanttattoo was very quick to offer me some insights about Marcus that I needed! Go read it here.

TBH, I had absolutely not planned to write anything about Peña any time soon, because why I love him in canon and in the many fics I've read, I didn't exactly feel like I had a good enough handle on writing something about him that has some plot rather than just fucking. But then this fic idea popped up. If there's anyone who knows him really well, it's @goodwithcheese (you'd better be reading her incredible new story Paranoid Heart about Javi!). So I dropped some questions and fortunately she was totally up for some character chat right here, which is really helping me figure out some things. Thank you babe, and I hope more people will contribute thots to your 1K Celebration Confessional about their sins!

Also, I've been trying to put a time and place to the fic, but I've decided to not get too hung up about that because it's really not literature but Fic/Porn With Plot. It doesn't all have to make sense. But in case you're curious, I'm leaning towards this taking place in the US in recent enough times that smartphones are a thing.

Age wise, I'm seeing Tim Rockford as being 48/50 years old probably. Javier is about 40, 41 years old - just to give you an idea of 'which Javi' I'm looking at, I've got a sense of him as he is in Narcos S2 around episode 4-9, after Carillo is murdered, and Berna takes him to see Judy Moncada.

Reader insert (I know, I haven't spoken a lot about her yet!) is probably about 40 years old too. And finally, Marcus Pike is give r take about 37 years old, which corresponds with his Mentalist appearance.

BTW, I came across an edit that had all of the Tim Rockford bits from the ads without the additional stuff. A whopping total of 48 seconds. Man, I hope that Pedro is aware of how fucked up he has us about Rockford with less than a minute of his acting. Even my wife said 'I would totally watch a show or movie based on this character' when I played the Merge Mansion ads for her.

Finally, here's a video of Pedro talking about "real fantasy fullfillment in terms of getting to immerse yourself in an experience" and how he "loves being a detective, that's fantasy fullfilment for me" re: the Merge Mansion event day.

*hits replay*

Say 'fantasy fullfillment' one more time? Respectfully.

Like I said, I hope he knows how fucked up he has us all about Rockford. I sure am glad he did these ads and whatever he got paid, it sure wasn't enough.

---------------------------------------------------------

Updated tag list (comment if you want to be added, or if I added you by accident!) based on folks who commented/reblogged on the prev posts:

@sin-djarin @legendary-pink-dot @imalrightllama @secretelephanttattoo @rhoorl @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @trulybetty @goodwithcheese @linzels-blog @rifflovesjoey @maggiemayhemnj @magpiepills @youandmeand5bucks @morallyinept @5oh5 @missredherring @avastrasposts @anavatazes @imaswellkid @pedrit0-pascalit0 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @survivingandenduring @boliv-jenta @prolix-yuy @sheepdogchick3 @inept-the-magnificent @northernwindd @alltheglitterandtheroar @readingiskeepingmegoing @txlady37 @rebel-held @alwaysmicado @heareball @clawdee @covetyou @bellsbluebrd @alltheglitterandtheroar @axshadows @casa-boiardi @bastardmandennis @stealyourblorbos @chronically-ghosted @katw474 @beabliss @nerdieforpedro

I don't know why some usernames don't seem to link when I try to tag them, btw. Does anyone have any suggestions on how to fix this?

[flightlessangelwings]

While we’re on the subject on inclusivity:

Inclusivity in your mood boards is just as important as inclusivity in the fic itself. Please try to include poc and curvy images in your mood boards as well! Please!

Your moodboard is the introduction to your story and sets the mood and the vibe. When you only have skinny white girls in your moodboards, you’re communicating a message that’s all who you thought of while writing and that’s the only type who is attractive and desirable to the characters. Poc deserve to feel seen too and feel like they were thought of while writing. Especially so when you’re writing for characters of color!

You don’t even have to use *only* poc or curvy pictures for your mood boards. Including different skin tones to show that you made the effort is much appreciated. You could also use shadow images or fully blacked out silhouettes to hide the skin tone altogether. There are plenty of resources and images out there that you should be able to find more than just skinny white girls. I know is it takes a little extra digging but it’s very much worth it to show inclusivity!

I know Pinterest is the bane of image finding, but it can be a good resource to find poc images. Just search (whatever aesthetic you’re looking for) + dark skin or person of color or something similar and you’ll find plenty of images. And the more you save the more images will show up in your feed. I constantly collect images to have references later when I need them.

Unsplash is another good resource to find poc models and images. And there’s also models of color pages right here on tumblr! There are resources out there it just takes a little effort to find the right images!

And as an ending note: using only skinny white girls in your mood board and then putting a disclaimer like “images do not represent reader they’re just fitting the aesthetic” isn’t the work around you think it is. I understand it’s not done in purpose and you most likely don’t realize it, but saying that says poc don’t fit your aesthetic and it’s still alienating and hurtful. Just something to keep in mind.

[assassinmidnight]

I just got this intese need to ride Javi into the fucking dirt, so here.

Javier Pèna x F!Reader

Warnings: smut, unprotected piv(wrap your warp pipe people)

“There you go hermosa, slowly now, don’t want you to hurt yourself”

Evenings like this were your favourite. Just you and Javi after a long day at work for him and a long day at school for you. When you came home today, Javi was already making dinner, the smell of his pasta reaching your nose the second you opened the door. Normally you’d be home first, cleaning up the little apartment before starting dinner but today your study session had stretched later into the evening. 

“No, Javi, baby please” you whimpered, gripping his shoulders and increasing your pace.

You didn’t know what had come over you when you came home, but seeing Javi in the kitchen cooking dinner for you, and then seeing him smile as you complimented it, it made you needy. The fact that he put so much effort into making you food and then that fucking smile that could make a priest sin, it was overwhelming. You’d pushed him onto the couch in the living room and immediately taken off his pants.

“Woha baby, what's come over you?” Javi chuckled, surprised by his girl’s eagerness, when no reply came he helped you out before trying to remove your clothes as well, he didn't get far however as you only had the patience to remove the clothes from your lower body before jumping his bones.

And now here you were, riding him into oblivion. Letting out whines and moans of his name while gripping his shoulders hard enough to leave bruises. Too caught up in your own pleasure, you didn't see his love sick face, how his eyes seemed glazed over with affection as he witnessed your absolute need for him. He was the one who couldn't wait to have you on the bed, undressed and spread out. But here you were, using him for the first time ever, so eager that you didn't even give yourself a chance for foreplay. He was mesmerised, it made him hard, knowing that you could crave him as carnally as he craved you.

“Javi” the shaking in your voice was a tell-tale sign of your oncoming orgasm, so was the tremors in your legs and the fluttering of your walls. 

“Gonna come for me cariño?” your lover smirked, enjoying the feel of you pulsing around him. Nodding furiously at him, you put all your weight on one arm to let the other snake down towards your clit. “Let me,” Javi said, using his thumb to draw circles on your clit. 

Immediately stiffening up you let out a cry as the pleasure hits you like a train, stars bursting behind your eyes as your lover lets out a groan of your name.

[sp00kymulderr]

Desiderium

San Valentín part 2

Series masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x afab Reader (no pronouns)

Warnings: 18+, Angst angst angst, possessive sex, jealousy, light choking, Javi is a menace and also can’t handle his feelings, dirty talk, love but it’s all kinda fucked up

Word Count: 3k

For months you had convinced yourself the only feelings you had for Javier were carnal; fuelled by those hot Colombian nights and the constant frustration of your job, that it was nothing more than a casual fling for the both of you. But since Valentine’s Day, and the jumble of emotion brought to the forefront in your mind, it has become clear to you that you’re already in way too deep and want far more from this than you ever thought you would.

Even knowing that, things go on the same way for weeks longer; you and Javier, Javier and seemingly every other woman in Bogotá. And each time you swear it’s the last, but then he gives you that look and tells you how much he needs you and before you know it you’re giving yourself over to him once more. Begging him for it again and again, even as you feel how much it blackens your heart to do so. After all, you had known from the beginning that Javier does anything he can for the job, and you promised him you’d wouldn’t let it get to you.

But when you’ve memorised every pattern of the damp-stained ceiling of his bedroom, and what feels like the schedule of half the women in the city you have to do something to get him off your mind. Find a way to stop your heart racing every time he says your name in that quiet, seductive drawl you’ve come to know all too well.

You’re not proud of how you deal with the situation, how you try to get him off your mind. Desperately attempting to shove those feelings back in to the deep, dark Pandora’s box that they were locked in by finding another man who might be able to make you feel as good – specifically Jason, a CIA lackey you’d had drinks with once or twice outside of work before.

Jason isn’t unattractive, and you knew he liked you, he’d made it pretty clear before. You’d always been curious so it’s not exactly a hardship for you to make a move that ends up with him back at your place on a stuffy Thursday night fuelled by too much drink. Sure he isn’t like Javier, but few men are and you’d already known that. When he fucks you it isn’t so desperately passionate, but it’s nice and you’d like that to be enough. 

You hate yourself for wishing it was Javier, every single moment.

Nothing feels right when it isn’t Javier. And unfortunately that’s how you know you love him, and if anything is going to land you in a pit of distress it’s figuring out that you’re in love with your co-worker and the man who’s known in every local brothel.

You’re a fucking idiot. What do you do? What can you do? Javier has always been caring towards you, he gives you attention and affection and makes you feel more wanted than any man ever has. It wouldn’t be impossible that he feels the same way, that he wants more but is too uncertain to ask for it.

If your choices are to be unfulfilled for the rest of your life, or be the first one to confess your feelings you know what you need to do. You have to tell him.

--- The next evening, you find yourself with shaking hands at his door. You have this whole admission memorised, knowing every word you want to tell him. When he opens the door to you and he’s in that black shirt you have to force yourself to concentrate so you don’t forget the entire speech.

Javier looks you up and down with a smirk before letting you in to the apartment, stubbing out his cigarette before he offers you a drink. Your throat feels so dry you gladly accept.

“Heard you had a good time last night” he states matter-of-factly, with what you might consider a hint of jealously in his voice. The walls are thin, but neither of you had exactly been loud so it takes you by surprise that he’d open with that.

“Uh, yeah. I went out for a drink with some of the CIA guys. It was fine” you shrug, not giving anything away. It’s odd, that you feel so guilty about it and you wonder if that’s how Javi feels after his various rendezvous.

“I think Jason might have enjoyed it more than that, saw him leaving this morning looking pretty pleased with himself” he notes in a low voice and bitter, making you shiver despite the heat.

“Oh. Well...yeah, we slept together. It-it was nice” you babble sheepishly, unconvincing.

“But you’re here tonight” Javier reminds you, giving you that look - the one that always gets you in to all kinds trouble. He’s drawing you to him until he’s leaning over you and his lips are almost on yours.

“I’m here” you agree dumbly, goosebumps raising on your skin where his fingers are tracing up your back.

When he kisses you it’s so easy and nice and you melt in to him, letting him deepen it as his hands hold you firm to him. You know straight away tonight isn’t going to go the way you had planned, but you follow his lead unable to stop yourself once he brings out your desire.

He has you immediately, it shouldn’t be a surprise by now. Every time he touches you, you turn to jelly and he can shape you and move you however he wants. He holds so much sway over you when you’re alone together and he knows it. Already removing your clothes, his hands roaming your body and he discards your t-shirt then helps you step out of your pants with your lips only parting for a matter of seconds. You let him guide you and give yourself over to him with no hesitation, desperate for the affection.

The tight grip of his hands on your hips is devastating, he’s so demanding as he pulls you with him on to the ugly old couch that you’ve always hated. Everything is too hot, his touch scorching against your skin until you feel almost dizzy with it. The climate of the small, familiar room is heady, stifling – your breath catching even before he’s got you straddling him and is pushing the flimsy lace fabric of your underwear to one side.

“Did you get this wet for him too?” he murmurs darkly as his fingers begin to explore you, one digit slipping inside you with ease already. You can’t fathom how to answer, the question takes you by surprise and you can’t tell what kind of game he’s trying to play. Thankfully he doesn’t demand a response, instead enjoying the beautiful gasps he’s eliciting from you as he withdraws and finds your clit – circling it so slowly it’s almost frustrating.

It’s difficult to remember how you felt just half an hour ago, when you had been so sure how tonight would go. Your big speech—the whole stupid plan—expelled from your memory as he presses two fingers in this time and curls them inside of you until you’re squirming with delicious pleasure. Javier always manages this so easily it’s embarrassing; turning you in to a speechless wreck with his talented fingers and some well placed kisses against your neck and collarbone, his thumb circling your clit with so little pressure it barely counts at all.

Grinding down against his hand you will him to give you more, letting your eyes do the begging until he obliges you. You tighten your grasp on the back of his neck, arching your back as his thumb presses harsher against your clit and sends tightening shocks to your core. It’s so sinful how this feels, you naked save the forgotten lace and him fully clothed and holding you close as he fucks you with his fingers. His teeth then tongue dragging along your skin, free hand following to pull and pinch at your nipples.

He’s built up a punishing rhythm with his fingers and his thumb, working you until he feels you tense and tighten. He knows you’re close, has seen it enough times by now, and for a moment some cruelty crosses his features that makes you think he’s going to stop. Perhaps if his cock wasn’t so painfully straining in his pants he would, but instead he increases his tempo until you’re arching and moaning his name in to the heavy air.

“That’ right, that’s it” he moans against your skin, lips ghosting across your too-hot flesh “I want you to cum all over my fingers and then clean them up for me while I fuck you. Do you want that? Taste yourself while I fill you up? You’re so beautiful when you come for me - let me see, show me baby”

If you weren’t so close to breaking point you might be taken aback by the filth coming from his mouth, he’s not usually so much of a talker and certainly not like this. But you’d be lying if you said his words didn’t spur you on more and you kiss him hard in some attempt to etch the obscene words in to your memory. You pull back when the orgasm hits, knocking the breath out of you until you’re quivering.

Javi’s fingers work you through it but he doesn’t stop when you do, still rubbing over the now sensitive nub with unabashed determination as his fingers continue to hit against that perfect spot. It’s too much but, christ, it could never be enough.

“Fuck, Javi” you gasp, not even finished with the first when another wave of pleasure submerges you and leaves you crying out for him – eyes squeezed shut so tight you feel a tear slide down your cheek. The second orgasm lands quicker than the first but leaves you dazed and motionless against him save your heaving chest and thumping heart so loud to you it could wake the dead.

Wet fingers trail your thighs as he manhandles you on to your knees, pulling your underwear off of you and letting you collapse against the arm of the couch for a moment as he positions himself behind you. You don’t have to tell him how much you need it, pushing back against him with a whimper when he rubs himself against you, coating his cock in your slick.

“Ple-” your voice is hoarse, more a moan than an actual word coming out of you. “Please, Javi. I need you, I fucking need you inside me right now. Please” you whine, and oh it spurs him on.

You don’t get to finish whatever string of supplications you were about to start, instead whimpering quietly as he pushes easily in to you and slowly, achingly fills you with his thick length to the hilt. He’s taking his time and you can’t decide if it’s to torture you or just so he can take as much pleasure from you as possible. Damned if you care at this point.

When he stills to let you both get reacquainted with the feel of him filling you so well, he brings an arm around you and guides you up until your back hits his chest. His breath lands hot on your neck, placing a rough kiss against your salty skin and letting his lips trail up and over the back of your ear as he starts to move his hips tortuously languidly – making you feel every inch of him pressing in to you. You’re already seeing stars when he taps his fingers against your mouth until you take them in, letting you taste yourself on him. The whole act is so lascivious and indecent, but it feels better than anything you’ve ever imagined.

“Does anyone else make you feel like this, fuck you like this? Did he make you beg the way you do for me?” He questions, speaking right against your ear and pulling you harder against his chest, locking you there with a strong arm as his thrusts up in to you with increasing fervour.

God, you can barely think but that pulls you in to some more lucid state for a moment. Is he serious? Asking you that. You think he’s getting off on it, thinking of you with another man and then asking you to confess your sins to him. You don’t entirely want to give in to his game, but you’d never be able to deny it doesn’t turn you on a little too much. If the unfathomable roll of his hips wasn’t making you feel so delirious, maybe you’d have more sense than to answer him the way you do.

“Javi, no one else comes close to you-” you gasp out as he roughly gropes your breasts and his other hand presses against your stomach, making a slow trail downwards “You make me feel- feel so so good.” You moan out as he thrusts so hard in to you now that your legs are beginning to shake.

When Javier brings his fingers back to your overstimulated clit, you lose yourself entirely. He could make you recount every single moment of last nights tryst and you would willingly do so and then you’d beg him for forgiveness. Any self control you might’ve had to take back the power that is so obviously in his hands perishes the moment he moans your name against your ear and you beg him never to stop.

“You make me lose my mind” you whisper, not even sure if he can hear it. It’s the most simple truth, you’re not in control of yourself any more.

He doesn’t respond, lost in his own pleasure as he grunts and groans behind you when you tighten around him as he continues to do his best to divert you from reality completely. A hand around your throat, squeezing lightly, that’s the thing that finishes you off and whatever you were going to cry out in that moment merely comes out as a serious of incoherent whines and whimpers.

“fuck that’s it, come for me just like that. Just for me” he groans as you come down from the heavens.

For a minute your vision goes blurry at the edges as he changes his tempo again, and his fingers are still on your clit just pressing there. You wonder if he’s actually trying to destroy you for a minute, but then he’s tensing up and pushing completely in to you. He finishes inside of you, holding you so tight you can’t feel anything other than him until he’s emptied every last drop in you, and then finally you’re both collapsing together on to the pillows beneath you.

Even if you could find your voice, you wouldn’t know what to say. Javier mutters some obscenity in Spanish as he pulls out of you but nothing more, and you’re glad that he doesn’t let you go – instead draping his arm over you and kissing your shoulder softly. It’s so peaceful, lying there in his arms, that you almost forget the turmoil still ongoing in your mind for the 15 minutes that it takes for you both to get your breathing back to normal and regain some feeling in your body.

He’s gently pushing aside the hair stuck to your forehead when you finally bring yourself to speak.

“Javi that was.... I don’t think I can move”

“Don’t, stay here” he murmurs, voice so soft you’re taken aback by it. How can he go from being so demanding of you to so gentle in just a moment?

You turn to face him and he looks calm, relaxed, happy to have you with him.

This has to be your moment, right? The way he looks at you right now seems to mirror the way he makes you feel, like you’ve got something to live for. You run your fingers over his cheek and along his jaw, taking in his handsome face and for-once untroubled demeanour – this is how you always want to see him.

You have to say it, this is the right time.

“I think I love you, Javi” you whisper your admission shyly, eyes meeting his and a soft smile on your lips “I think we should try...to make a go of things”

Javier’s expression changes in an instant. He sighs, breaking your eye contact and then he’s sitting up away from you.

“I just- I hated myself last night, it didn’t feel right” you scramble, “Like it should have been you not him and I always want it to be you...” you follow suit, sitting and immediately feeling so horribly exposed as he does everything he can to not meet your eyes. 

“Javi?”

He hangs his head, murmuring your name with such disappointment that anger bubbles up and you feel a rush of heat to your face - you stand to find and pull on your clothes, whole body vibrating with embarrassment. How could you have read the situation so absurdly wrong?

“Don’t do this, we’ve got a good thing going and you know it can’t be more than that” he tells you with so little emotion in his voice that you feel tears start to sting in your eyes,

Snatching your t shirt that had been flung to the other side of the couch, you try to keep some semblance of balance in your voice when you speak again.

“But we were so- I thought you cared about me. You were so...so- I thought you cared? And what? You don’t want me?”

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t fucking cry.

He shakes his head and whether you imagine the pained look in his eyes is unclear, but when he answers you know everything is screwed and as selfish as it makes you, you wish you’d kept your stupid mouth shut

“No. I’m sorry”

So that’s how Javier Peña breaks your heart.

[pascalispimp]

Through the ashes - Chapter 4

“I’m fist fighting with fire just to get close to you”

Pairing: Joel miller x reader

Summary: Birdie agrees to go on a date with Mike, leaving a jealous Joel to finally realise he can’t keep pretending he doesn’t want to be with her. After a tense encounter at the tipsy bison, he lays it all out on the table to her. Birdie also opens up to Joel about her past.

Word count: 6.7k

Chapter Warnings: Explicit🔞 Angst. Mutual pining. Unspecified age gap. Takes places after TLOU season 1. Smut. Slow burn. Jealous!Joel. Protective!Joel. Mentions of SA. Canon typical violence. Joel finally stops being an idiot.

Birdie was tired—tired of the constant back and forth, the mixed signals, and the emotional roller coaster that had become her relationship with Joel. One moment, he seemed genuinely interested, his touch lingering a little too long, his gaze softening when it landed on her. But the next, he would pull away, retreating behind the walls he had built so carefully, leaving her confused and frustrated.

So, when Mike, a kind and easygoing guy who had always been friendly with her, asked her out for a drink, Birdie surprised herself by saying yes. It wasn’t that she was over Joel—far from it—but she was tired of waiting around, tired of feeling like she was stuck in limbo. Maybe spending time with someone else would help her clear her head, give her some perspective on what she really wanted.

The Tipsy Bison was buzzing with its usual evening crowd when Birdie and Mike arrived. She was a little nervous at first, unsure if this was the right thing to do, but as the evening wore on, she found herself relaxing. Mike was easy to talk to, his jokes lightening the mood, and for the first time in weeks, she felt like she could just enjoy herself without worrying about what Joel was thinking.

They talked and laughed, swapping stories about their lives before Jackson, and as the drinks flowed, Birdie realized she was actually having fun. Mike was sweet, attentive, and didn’t make her feel like she was walking on eggshells. It was a nice change of pace, even if it wasn’t what her heart truly wanted.

But that lightness was short-lived.

Joel had spent the better part of the evening in his own cabin, brooding over the mess he had made of things with Birdie. He knew he had been giving her mixed signals, pushing her away when he should have been pulling her closer, but the fear of letting her in—of letting anyone in—was still a powerful force. He’d been through too much, lost too much, to easily let someone new into his heart.

But that didn’t mean he could ignore the jealousy that flared up when he heard about Birdie going on a date with Mike. He tried to convince himself it was nothing, that she was free to do as she pleased, but as the hours ticked by, the thought of her with someone else gnawed at him until he couldn’t take it anymore.

Before he knew it, he was heading for the Tipsy Bison, his heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and determination. He had no right to interfere, no right to feel jealous after the way he had treated her, but the idea of her laughing and enjoying herself with another man—of her moving on without him—was more than he could bear.

When Joel walked into the bar, his eyes immediately found them—Birdie and Mike, sitting close together at a corner table, laughing at something Mike had said. The sight sent a sharp pang of jealousy through him, his chest tightening as he watched them. She looked happy, her eyes bright and her smile wide, and for a moment, Joel felt like he was intruding on something he had no business interrupting.

But then Mike leaned in, his hand brushing against Birdie’s arm as he moved closer, clearly intending to kiss her. That was the moment when something inside Joel snapped.

Before he could even think about what he was doing, Joel was crossing the bar, his strides long and purposeful. He reached the table just as Mike was about to close the distance, his hand shooting out to grab Mike’s arm and pull him back.

“Whoa, what the—?” Mike started, surprised by the sudden intrusion.

But Joel didn’t give him a chance to finish. “Back off,” Joel growled, his voice low and dangerous, his eyes fixed on Mike with a glare that left no room for argument.

Birdie’s eyes widened in shock as she looked up at Joel, her heart pounding in her chest. “Joel, what are you doing?”

Joel barely spared her a glance, his grip on Mike’s arm tightening. “I said, back off,” he repeated, his voice even harder.

Mike, clearly taken aback by the intensity in Joel’s voice, held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Alright, alright, man. I didn’t mean any harm.”

Joel released him, his heart still pounding as he turned to Birdie, his expression a mix of anger, jealousy, and something else—something that made her breath catch in her throat.

“Darlin…” Joel began, his voice rough, but she cut him off.

“Outside. Now,” she ordered, her voice shaking with a mix of anger and hurt.

Without waiting for a response, she turned and stormed out of the bar, Joel following close behind. The cold night air hit them as they stepped outside, but it did little to cool the heat of the argument that was about to erupt.

Once they were outside, the cool night air hitting their faces, Birdie turned to Joel, her confusion and frustration bubbling to the surface. “What the hell, Joel? What was that about?”

Joel looked down at her, his chest heaving with the effort of holding back everything he wanted to say. But as he met her gaze, all the walls he had built, all the excuses he had made, came crashing down. He couldn’t do this anymore—couldn’t keep pushing her away, couldn’t keep pretending he didn’t care.

“What the hell was that, Joel?” She demanded, whirling around to face him. “What were you thinking?”

Joel ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched on his face. “I don’t know, Darlin. I just… I saw you with him, and I lost it.”

“I’m sorry,” Joel said, his voice low and raw. “I’m sorry for everything, sweetheart. For the mixed signals, for pushing you away… for making you think I didn’t care.”

Birdie’s breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding as she listened to his words, the sincerity in his voice sending a wave of emotion crashing over her. “Joel…”

But Joel didn’t let her finish. He took a step closer, his hands coming up to cradle her face as he looked deep into her eyes. “I like you, Darlin,” he admitted, his voice trembling with the weight of the confession. “I like you more than I’ve let on. But I’ve been scared—scared of getting close, of messing things up, of losing you.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he admitted, his words coming out in a rush, as if he couldn’t hold them back any longer. “All night, I’ve been trying to… but I can’t. I don’t want to keep pretending this isn’t happening.”

Birdie breath caught, her eyes searching his face. She could see the struggle there, the conflict between what he wanted and what he thought he should do. But she had felt it too—the pull between them, the way their connection had grown stronger with every stolen glance, every teasing word.

“I can’t stop thinking about you either,” She admitted, her voice soft but steady. “But I don’t know where this is going, Joel. We’re playing with fire, and I don’t know if we’ll be able to handle it.”

Joel took a step closer, his hand still holding hers, the warmth of his touch grounding him, giving him the courage to say what he had been too afraid to admit. “I don’t know either,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “But I know I want to find out.”

Birdie looked up at him, her heart pounding in her chest. She had been drawn to Joel from the moment she met him—drawn to his strength, his quiet intensity, the way he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders without ever letting it crush him. But she had also sensed the walls he had built around himself, the barriers he put up to keep people out.

She had been careful not to push too hard, not to scare him away. But now, standing here with him in the quiet of the night, she could see that he was ready to take a leap, even if he didn’t know where they would land.

“Are you sure?” She asked, her voice gentle but firm. “Because if we do this, we can’t just go back to pretending it didn’t happen. This isn’t something we can take lightly.”

“I’m sure,” Joel said, his voice steady. But then he hesitated, his expression darkening with doubt. “But you… you could do better than this, Darlin. You could do better than someone as old and broken as me.”

Birdie shook her head, stepping closer until there was barely any space between them. “Joel, I don’t care about that,” she said, her voice fierce with conviction. “I don’t care how old you are, or what you think is wrong with you. I like you. I like who you are, and I want this. I want us.”

Joel’s breath hitched, his heart swelling with emotion. He hadn’t expected that—hadn’t expected her to see past the walls he had built, past the scars and the years that had hardened him. But here she was, standing in front of him, telling him that she saw him, all of him, and she still wanted him.

Without another word, Joel leaned down and kissed her. It was a kiss born of weeks of tension, of longing and desire that had been building between them, and she responded immediately, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pulled him closer.

The kiss was intense, full of heat and promise, but there was also something tender beneath it—a softness that came from the knowledge that this was something they both wanted, something they were both ready to fight for.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing heavily, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to catch their breath.

Birdie felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, the vulnerability in his voice breaking down the last of her defenses. “Joel… I like you too. But you can’t keep doing this—you can’t keep pulling me close and then pushing me away. It’s not fair.”

“I know,” Joel whispered, his thumb brushing gently over her cheek. “And I’m sorry. I want to make it right, Darlin. I want to give this—us—a real chance. But I need you to know… I’m not perfect. I’ve got a lot of shit to work through, but I want to try. If you’ll give me a chance, I’ll do better.”

She stared at him, her heart swelling with a mixture of hope and fear. She had been waiting for this—for him to finally be honest with her, to finally admit how he felt. But she was also scared—scared of getting hurt, scared of putting herself out there again.

“You have to talk to me, Joel,” She said, her voice soft but firm. “If we’re going to do this, you can’t shut me out. We need to communicate, to be honest with each other. I won’t do this if you’re going to keep pushing me away.”

Joel nodded, the sincerity in his eyes making her heart ache. “I promise, Darlin. No more mixed signals. No more shutting you out.”

Birdie took a deep breath, letting his words sink in before she finally nodded. “Okay. Let’s give this a shot… but can we keep it between us for now? Just until we figure things out?”

Joel smiled, a small, relieved smile that made her heart flutter. “Yeah, we can do that. Whatever you need.”

And then, before either of them could second-guess their decision, Joel leaned in and kissed her again, this time with all the passion and emotion he had been holding back for so long. She melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she kissed him back, pouring all of her own feelings into that one moment.

When they finally pulled away, both of them breathless and a little dazed, Birdie rested her forehead against his, a soft smile playing on her lips. “We’ve got a lot to figure out, Joel.”

“Yeah,” Joel agreed, his voice filled with warmth. “But we’ll figure it out together.”

As they stood there in the quiet of the night, wrapped up in each other, Birdie felt a sense of peace settle over her. For the first time in a long time, she felt like they were on the right track—like they were finally heading in the direction they were meant to go.

——

After weeks of stolen moments, lingering glances, and whispered conversations, Joel and Birdie had finally crossed the line from friendship into something more. They hadn’t told anyone yet, choosing to keep their new relationship a secret for now, savoring the intimacy of it being just theirs. It was a tender, delicate thing, still new and vulnerable, but it felt right. There was a comfort in it, a quiet joy that came from knowing they were no longer tiptoeing around their feelings.

Their time together had been filled with soft kisses, quiet evenings on the porch, and long, late-night conversations where they bared pieces of themselves they hadn’t shared with anyone else. But as their relationship deepened, so did the longing for more—more closeness, more intimacy. And that longing was becoming harder to ignore.

It was one of those quiet nights, after dinner at Joel’s house, that things began to change. They had spent the evening like they often did, talking and laughing, the easy camaraderie between them only making their connection stronger. But as the night wore on, the tension that had been simmering between them began to bubble to the surface.

They were sitting on the couch, close enough that their legs brushed against each other, the warmth of their bodies filling the space between them. Joel reached out, taking Birdie’s hand in his, his thumb gently brushing over her knuckles as he looked at her, his eyes dark with something deeper, something that had been growing for a while now.

“Darlin,” Joel murmured, his voice low and full of emotion as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her cheek. “I can’t stop thinking about you… about us.”

Birdie’s heart skipped a beat at his words, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down her spine. She felt the same way—she had for a long time now. But as his hand slid up her arm, his touch gentle yet insistent, she felt a familiar wave of anxiety begin to rise in her chest.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want this—didn’t want him. She did, more than anything. But as his fingers traced the line of her jaw, tilting her head up to meet his gaze, the memories she had tried so hard to bury began to resurface, the old wounds that had never fully healed starting to ache again.

When Joel leaned in to kiss her, his lips soft and warm against hers, Birdie tried to push those memories away, tried to focus on the here and now, on the feel of his hands on her skin, the taste of his kiss. But the anxiety only grew, the memories pressing in on her until she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

As their kisses grew more urgent, Joel’s hands began to explore, sliding up her sides, his touch firm and gentle at the same time. He pulled her closer, his body pressing against hers, and that’s when it happened—She froze, her body stiffening as the memories overwhelmed her.

“Joel, stop,” She whispered, her voice trembling as she pulled away, her hands pressing against his chest to create some distance between them. “I… I can’t. I’m not ready.”

Joel immediately backed off, his eyes wide with concern as he looked at her, his hands dropping to his sides. “Baby, I’m sorry,” he said, his voice full of worry. “Did I do something wrong?”

She shook her head, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes as she struggled to find the words. “No, it’s not you. It’s… it’s me. I need to tell you something.”

Joel’s heart sank at the sight of her tears, the raw emotion in her voice cutting through him like a knife. He reached out, his hand gently cupping her face as he wiped away a tear with his thumb. “You can tell me anything, Darlin. I’m here.”

Taking a deep breath, Birdie looked into Joel’s eyes, seeing the concern and love there, and she knew she could trust him. She had to trust him, if this relationship was going to work. But it wasn’t easy. The memories she was about to share were ones she had tried to keep buried, ones that still haunted her in ways she didn’t like to admit.

“When I was part of the Fireflies,” She said, her voice soft but clear. “For a long time. I was just a teenager when I joined. I was angry and lost, like a lot of people were back then. The Fireflies… they gave me a purpose, something to fight for. But it wasn’t always what I thought it would be.”

Joel’s heart tightened at the mention of the Fireflies. His own experiences with them had been complicated, to say the least. But this wasn’t about him—this was about her, and he wanted to hear her story.

“I saw things, did things, that still haunt me,” she continued, her gaze distant as she remembered those years. “The Fireflies… they weren’t always the good guys. They did what they thought they had to do, but sometimes it felt like we were losing our way, losing sight of what we were supposed to be fighting for.”

Joel listened intently, his hand never leaving hers, his thumb gently brushing over her knuckles as she spoke. He could hear the pain in her voice, the weight of the memories she was sharing.

“I was stationed in Boston for a while,” she said, her voice growing quieter. “That’s where I met Tommy. He was with the Fireflies then too. We were both so young, but he looked out for me from the start, like a big brother. I don’t know what I would’ve done without him.”

A small, sad smile tugged at Birdie’s lips as she thought about those early days. “He was always there, always trying to protect me from the worst of it. But he couldn’t protect me from everything.”

Joel’s chest tightened, sensing where the conversation was heading. “What happened?” he asked gently, his voice full of concern.

Her smile faded, her expression darkening as she recalled the memories she had tried so hard to bury. “There was a guy… a soldier who defected to the Fireflies. At first, he seemed like he was just trying to find a better cause, like the rest of us. We got close, started seeing each other. I thought I could trust him.”

She paused, her breath hitching slightly as she forced herself to continue. “But he wasn’t what he seemed. He was controlling, manipulative. It started small—telling me what to do, where to go, who to talk to. But it got worse. He… he hurt me, Joel. He would get angry, and I’d be the one to pay for it. It was a long time ago, but I was hurt in ways that… I wasn’t ready for. It wasn’t consensual, and it left me with a lot of scars—scars I’m still dealing with.””

Joel’s grip on her hand tightened, his heart breaking at the pain in her voice. “Darlin,” he whispered, his voice filled with anguish.

“It went on for months,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “I was too scared to leave, too scared to tell anyone. I didn’t want to be seen as weak, didn’t want to be a burden. But Tommy… he knew something was wrong. He didn’t push, but he kept an eye on me, tried to get me out of there whenever he could.”

Birdie took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “One night, things got really bad. He… he nearly killed me. Tommy found out, and he… he did what he had to do. He made sure that guy never came near me again. But after that, Tommy couldn’t stay. He couldn’t look at the Fireflies the same way anymore. He left, and I stayed behind for a while, but eventually, I couldn’t take it either. I left and started wandering, trying to find a place where I could just be… safe.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back, her voice steadying as she continued. “Eventually, I found my way to Jackson. Tommy was here by then, and he took me in, like he always did. He’s been looking out for me ever since.”

Joel felt a deep, burning anger at the thought of what she had gone through, at the thought of someone hurting her like that. But more than that, he felt an overwhelming sadness for the pain she had endured, the scars she carried with her.

Joel’s expression softened with understanding, his heart breaking for her as he listened. He had sensed there was something in her past, something that had caused her pain, but he hadn’t known how deep that pain ran. He wanted to reach out, to comfort her, but he knew this was something she needed to share on her own terms.

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” Joel said softly, his voice full of empathy. “You didn’t deserve that. No one does.”

She nodded, grateful for his understanding, but the tears were still there, the pain still fresh in her mind. “Ever since then, it’s been hard for me to trust anyone, to let anyone get close. I’ve been afraid that… that I’m not ready for this, for us. But I want to be. I want to be close to you, Joel. I just… I need time.”

Joel’s heart swelled with love for the woman in front of him, for her bravery in sharing something so painful, so vulnerable. He reached out, taking her hand in his and squeezing it gently. “Darlin, you don’t have to explain. We’ll take this at your pace, okay? I don’t want you to feel pressured or rushed. I’m not going anywhere, and I can wait as long as you need.”

She looked up at him, her heart aching with gratitude for his understanding, his patience. She had been so afraid that telling him would change things, would make him see her differently, but the look in his eyes, the love and concern there, told her that he wasn’t going to leave her, wasn’t going to push her.

“Thank you, Joel,” She whispered, her voice trembling with emotion as she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. “I was so scared to tell you, but… I’m glad I did.”

Joel wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as he pressed a soft kiss to her temple. “You’re safe with me, sweetheart. I promise you that. We’ll go as slow as you need, and we’ll only do what you’re comfortable with. There’s no rush.”

Birdie closed her eyes, feeling a sense of peace settle over her as she let herself relax in his arms. She had been carrying the weight of her past for so long, afraid that it would always stand in the way of her happiness. But with Joel, she felt safe, felt like she could finally start to heal.

They sat like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, the silence between them filled with unspoken promises and a newfound sense of trust. She knew that there would be challenges ahead, that healing wasn’t something that happened overnight. But she also knew that she didn’t have to face those challenges alone—not anymore.

Joel’s hand gently stroked her back, his touch soothing and steady, as if he were trying to convey with every movement that he was there for her, that he wasn’t going to leave her side. “We’ll take it one step at a time, Darlin,” Joel whispered, his voice full of quiet determination. “And when you’re ready—whenever that is—we’ll take the next step. But only when you’re ready.”

She smiled against his chest, her heart full to bursting with love for the man holding her. She had never felt more cared for, more understood, than she did in that moment. And while she knew that there was still a long road ahead, she felt hopeful—hopeful that with Joel by her side, she could finally move forward, finally find the happiness she deserved.

And as they sat there together, the weight of the past slowly lifting from her shoulders, she knew that she had made the right choice in trusting Joel. Because in him, she had found something rare and precious—something that made every moment, every touch, every breath feel like a gift.

—-

The tension between Joel and Birdie had been building for what felt like forever. Every look, every touch, every moment they shared had been charged with an undercurrent of desire that was impossible to ignore.

They had taken things slow, carefully navigating their feelings and growing closer with each passing day. But tonight, as they stood alone in Joel’s bedroom, the need to be closer—to finally give in to the connection that had been simmering between them—was undeniable.

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting warm shadows across the walls. Outside, the night was quiet, the rest of Jackson settled in for sleep. But inside, the air was thick with anticipation, the unspoken tension between them finally coming to a head.

Joel stood close to Birdie, his heart pounding in his chest as he looked down at her. She was beautiful, standing there in the soft light, her eyes filled with a mixture of longing and nervousness. He could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on them, the significance of what they were about to do.

This wasn’t just about desire—this was about trust, about love, about finally giving in to something that had been growing between them for so long.

“Darlin,” Joel murmured, his voice rough with emotion as he reached out, cupping her face in his hands. “Are you sure you want this? We don’t have to rush.”

She looked up at him, her heart swelling with love for the man standing before her. He was always so careful, so concerned with her feelings, and it only made her want him more. “I’m sure, Joel,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the nervous fluttering in her stomach. “I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

Joel’s breath caught at her words, his heart pounding even harder in his chest. He had wanted this too—wanted her—more than he could put into words. But hearing her say it, knowing that she was just as sure, just as ready, made everything feel even more real.

He leaned in, capturing her lips in a slow, tender kiss. It was a kiss filled with everything he’d been holding back, everything he’d wanted to say but hadn’t found the words for. As the kiss deepened, Joel’s hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer until their bodies were pressed together, the warmth of her skin seeping into him.

She responded immediately, her hands sliding up his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath her fingers. The kiss grew more intense, more urgent, as they both gave in to the desire that had been building for so long. She could feel the tension in Joel, the way his hands gripped her waist as if he were afraid to let go, and it only made her want him more.

When they finally pulled back, both of them breathing heavily, Joel rested his forehead against hers, his voice thick with emotion.

“Baby… you don’t know how many times I’ve imagined this.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his confession, her breath catching in her throat. “Really?” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

“Yeah,” Joel admitted, his hands trembling slightly as they moved up to cup her face.

“I’ve thought about this so many times. About what it would be like to hold you like this, to kiss you, to make you mine. Waking up each morning with a raging hard on and having to fuck my fist just thinking about you.”

Tears pricked at the corners of Birdie’s eyes at his words, her heart swelling with love for the man in front of her. She could hear the vulnerability in his voice, the way he was opening up to her in a way that she knew wasn’t easy for him. “Joel,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I’ve wanted this too. I’ve wanted you.”

Joel’s breath hitched at her words, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might burst.

He leaned down, kissing her again—deeper this time, more intense, as if he were trying to pour all of his feelings into that one kiss. His hands moved to the hem of her shirt, his fingers trembling as he slowly lifted it, giving her one last chance to stop him.

But she didn’t stop him. Instead, she lifted her arms, allowing him to pull the shirt over her head and toss it aside. She shivered slightly as the cool air hit her skin, but the warmth of Joel’s touch quickly chased away the chill.

Joel’s hands moved over her bare skin, his touch gentle but firm as he explored her, taking his time to memorize every curve, every inch of her. He could feel the tension in his body, the way his pants were growing uncomfortably tight, but he forced himself to go slow, to savor the moment.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Joel murmured, his voice thick with awe as he took in the sight of her.

Birdie blushed at his words, her heart racing as she reached out to pull him closer, her hands sliding under his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her fingers. She wanted to feel him too, to know him in the same way he was getting to know her.

Joel didn’t hesitate. He pulled off his shirt, tossing it aside before pulling her into his arms again, their bare skin finally pressed together. The sensation was overwhelming, sending a jolt of electricity through both of them, making it impossible to think about anything else but the feel of each other.

Their kisses grew more urgent, more desperate, as they began to shed the rest of their clothes, their bodies moving together in a rhythm that felt both natural and new.

The tension between them was almost unbearable, the need to be closer, to finally give in to the desire that had been building for so long, growing stronger with each passing second.

When they were finally bare before each other, Joel took a moment to just look at her, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of her. She was beautiful—more beautiful than he had ever imagined, and the thought of finally being with her, of making her his, made his heart pound with a mix of desire and love.

“Are you sure, Baby?” Joel asked one last time, his voice rough with emotion as he cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing her cheeks. “We can stop if you’re not ready.”

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with love and certainty. “I’m sure, Joel. I want this. I want you.”

Joel let out a shuddering breath, his heart swelling with love for the woman in front of him. He leaned down, capturing her lips in another deep, passionate kiss as he slowly lowered them both onto the bed, his body covering hers as they finally gave in to the desire that had been building between them for so long.

As they lay down together, Joel kept his touch gentle, his hands exploring her body with the utmost care. He could feel the tension in her muscles, the way she was holding her breath, and he knew she was nervous. He pressed soft kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, whispering words of reassurance as he did.

“Is this okay?” Joel asked softly as his hand slid up her side, his touch light and tender.

She nodded, her breath hitching slightly as she relaxed into his touch. “Yes, Joel. It’s perfect.”

Joel smiled, his heart full as he continued to explore her body, his touch never straying too far, never moving too quickly. He wanted to build her trust, to let her know that she was safe with him, that he would never push her beyond what she was comfortable with.

When his hand finally slipped between her thighs, he felt her tense slightly, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she let out a soft breath, her eyes fluttering shut as she focused on the feel of his fingers exploring her, the gentleness of his touch making her heart race.

“Is this okay?” Joel asked again, his voice barely above a whisper as he watched her closely, ready to stop if she needed him to.

“Yes,” she breathed, her voice trembling with a mix of nerves and pleasure. “Please, don’t stop.”

Joel continued his gentle exploration, his touch never wavering as he brought her closer to the edge. He could feel the tension leaving her body, the way she was slowly surrendering to the pleasure he was giving her, and it made his heart swell with love and pride.

Joel’s touch was slow, deliberate, designed to drive her wild with need while also building her anticipation. He wanted to draw out every moment, to make her feel every touch, every kiss, every caress as he slowly brought her to the edge.

His lips trailed down her neck, his tongue flicking out to taste her skin as he kissed his way down her body. Birdie’s breath came in short, desperate gasps, her hands tangling in his hair as she arched into his touch, her body trembling with anticipation.

When Joel finally reached her core, he took his time, his touch gentle yet firm as he explored her most sensitive areas. His fingers moved in slow, deliberate circles, his mouth following with soft kisses and gentle licks that sent shivers down her spine.

Birdie moaned softly, her body trembling with pleasure as Joel worked her slowly but surely toward her first climax. He could feel the tension building inside her, the way her body responded to every touch, every movement, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

When she finally let go, her body shuddering with the force of her climax, Joel held her close, his hands cradling her as he whispered words of love and reassurance.

He wanted her to know that she was safe, that she was loved, and that he would always be there for her, no matter what.

After a few moments, when Birdie’s breathing had steadied and the last tremors had faded, she looked up at Joel, her eyes full of love and trust. “Thank you, Joel,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. “That was… amazing.”

Joel smiled, his heart full to bursting as he leaned down to kiss her softly. “You’re amazing, Baby. And I’m so honored that you trust me.”

She blushed, her heart swelling with love for the man beside her. But even as she lay there in his arms, basking in the warmth of their connection, she couldn’t help but notice something else—something that made her pulse quicken all over again.

She had felt it earlier, when Joel’s body had pressed against hers, but now that the haze of her climax had cleared, she was acutely aware of it. Joel was… well, he was big. Bigger than she had anticipated. And the thought of him inside her, of what they would do next, sent a shiver of nervous excitement through her.

“Joel,” She began, her voice a little hesitant as she looked up at him, biting her lip nervously. “You’re… um…”

Joel chuckled softly, his expression warm and understanding as he gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “I know, sweetheart. We’ll take it slow, just like we’ve done everything else. If at any point it’s too much, you just tell me, and we’ll stop.”

She nodded, grateful for his patience, his understanding. She knew he would never push her beyond her limits, that he would always put her comfort and safety first. And that knowledge gave her the confidence to continue, to trust that he would take care of her, just as he always had.

With that reassurance, Birdie leaned in to kiss him, her hands sliding down his back as she pulled him closer, her body arching into his as she surrendered herself to the moment. Joel responded with a tenderness that made her heart ache with love for him, his hands caressing her skin as he positioned himself above her.

“Is this okay?” Joel asked softly as he moved closer, his voice full of love and concern.

She nodded, her breath catching in her throat as she felt him pressing against her. “Yes, Joel. I want this. I want you.”

Joel’s heart swelled with love for the woman beneath him, and he took his time, moving slowly, carefully, as he entered her. He could feel the tension in her body, the way she was holding her breath, and he whispered words of love and encouragement as he guided her through the experience.

“You’re doing so well, Baby,” Joel murmured, his voice full of admiration as he pressed soft kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. “Just relax, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

She nodded, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as she focused on the feel of him inside her, the way he stretched her, filled her. It was intense, more intense than she had anticipated, but Joel’s touch, his voice, his love, made it bearable, made it beautiful.

As they moved together, Joel kept his touch gentle, his movements slow and deliberate as he guided her through every step, making sure she was comfortable, making sure she felt safe. He could see the trust in her eyes, the way she was slowly relaxing into the experience, and it made his heart ache with love for her.

Joel held her close, his heart full to bursting with love and gratitude for the woman in his arms, the woman who had given him everything, who trusted him completely. He moved his mouth to her ear, his voice a low growl as he brought her to the brink. “That’s it, Baby. You’re doing so well for me. So fucking perfect. Now come for me.”

With his command, Birdie felt herself shatter, her body trembling with the force of her climax as she cried out his name, “Joel.”

The pleasure was overwhelming, all-consuming, leaving her breathless and spent as she clung to him, her heart pounding in her chest.

When they finally reached the peak together, it was a moment of pure, overwhelming connection, one that left them both breathless, their bodies trembling with the force of their shared release.

When it was over, when they were both spent and exhausted, Joel pulled her into his arms, holding her close as they lay together in the aftermath. His heart was still pounding, his mind still spinning with everything they had just shared, but there was a sense of peace that settled over him, a sense of contentment that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Birdie rested her head on his chest, her hand splayed across his heart as she let out a contented sigh. “That was… incredible, Joel.”

Joel smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head as he tightened his hold on her. “It was more than that, Darlin. It was everything I’ve ever wanted.”

As they lay there in the quiet of the night, their bodies entwined, their hearts at peace, Joel knew that this moment, this connection, was something rare and precious. And he would do everything in his power to protect it, to cherish it, for as long as they were together.

Because in Birdie, Joel had found something that made every moment, every touch, every breath feel like a gift.

And that, they both knew, was worth more than anything else in the world.

Tag list: @lizard-zombie

[bisexualduckling00]

the first who ever did || ch. 2

there's things i wanna say to you

length: 3800 words

rating: m (language, brief female masturbation, a cheeky massage)

future smut MDNI!!!

chapter summary: You came here to work, not lust over your obnoxiously attractive partner. But, a tiny workplace crush never hurt anyone, right? His “no coworkers” rule was getting more and more difficult to keep. But how could he when you were there? Seducing him solely with your existence. 

a/n: lol this took a lot longer to upload than i'd originally planned but if you're impatient like me there are 23k words uploaded on ao3!! @/bisexualduckling00 as well :)

read ch. 1 here !!

Unfortunately, you could always count on Monday morning to arrive every week, but hat doesn’t mean you could always count on your alarm to go off at the right time. You cursed your way out the door, almost forgetting to lock it behind you. You had yet to walk to the main road and hail a taxi, which took at least twenty minutes, which you absolutely did not have.

“Huh. I assumed you just sleep at the embassy since I never see you leaving in the mornings,” a husky voice chuckled behind you.

“Sometimes I do,” you finished locking your door. “But now, I’m running late and I have a presentation at eight.”

Javier quirked an eyebrow and tilted his head ever so slightly. “It’s 7:30. It’s a twenty minute drive.”

“Exactly!” you waved your arms at him, exasperated. “That’s not enough time for me to catch a cab and still get there on time.” 

He bit his lower lip before chuckling again. How dare he laugh at your struggle! “Loquita, you mean to tell me you’ve been paying for a taxi from here to the embassy twice a day for the past three weeks?” You shrugged. “Let’s go,” he motioned you towards his door, already beginning to walk away.

You followed him wordlessly, unsure what exactly was happening. His strides were long, his too-tight pants clinging tightly to his ass. Not that you were looking. Javi opened the passenger door, giving you an expectant look. “Come on, don’t make me tell you twice,” he clicked his tongue on the side of his mouth.

Obeying, you slid into the seat. The car was surprisingly clean, with a little green air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror. The sweet scent of tobacco tickled your nose, you knew the smell clung to him, and most likely couldn’t be washed away by a dozen showers. You almost mentioned how bad his smoking habit was for his health, but you knew it would just do more harm than good. 

Javi broke the silence first, “We could do this again, if you’d like.” His grip on the handle tightened the slightest bit. “Carpooling. It makes sense, saves you time and money. Is better for the environment and all that good shit.”

Your body warmed at his offer, even if it was disguised in faux-environmentalism or whatever that last comment was. “We’ll split the gas,” you offered. He gave a brisk nod, and that was that.

The rest of the car ride passed pleasantly. You rested your head on the window, enjoying Javi’s music taste as The Eagles played softly through the speakers. Between gazing at the greenery outside, you stole quick glances of Javier. You hadn’t taken the time to just look at him yet, and you found that you weren’t able to stop. 

His work-roughened hands lightly gripped the steering wheel with a casual ease, his thumb gently tapping along to the rhythm of the music. Beneath his yellow-tinted aviators sat his aquiline nose, further down was his angled jawline and thick, smooth neck. God, everything about this man was sharp and broad at the same time. He was all angles and warmth and strength. You suddenly felt overwhelmed, being in such a small space while in his presence. You had to look out the window again before your eyes could drift to his arms. Or, god forbid, his thighs. 

How were you supposed to survive this car ride twice a day, five days a week? You came here to work, not lust over your obnoxiously attractive partner. But, a tiny workplace crush never hurt anyone, right? You’d be over him in a week or two. No big deal.

-

To show your gratitude, you decided to make coffee for the two of you each morning. Javier always complained about how bad the coffee at the embassy was, and you had an espresso machine that your mother had gotten you for your 23rd birthday, so it just seemed like a no-brainer that you could pay him in delicious, freshly brewed coffee.

“Here,” you offered him the cup that morning. His brows furrowed together. “Tómalo, Javi. Es para ti,” you pushed the coffee into his hands until he finally took it, his fingertips brushing yours as he did so.

He sniffed the cup. “Me hiciste un café?” he said with a slight tilt of his head.

“Siempre te quejas del puto café gringo. This way I don’t have to deal with your whining anymore,” you said with a shrug.

Javi took a tentative sip, then a bigger one. The groan in the back of his throat almost brought you to your knees right then and there. It had you imagining things that were most definitely not appropriate fantasies to have of your partner. “This is amazing. Thank you,” he gave your shoulder a friendly nudge as you walked to his car. “You’re like my energizer bunny or something.”

You gave him a questioning glance. 

“You know, the little pink bunny? From the batteries,” he acted like that explained everything. “The coffee… batteries…how do you not know this? Anyways, you keep me going.” You knew he was just talking about the coffee, but you couldn’t help but blush at his words. 

The next day you found a yellow sticky note on your desk. ‘Lunch?’’ was scribbled in thin, stringy letters. Javi was in a meeting, but you had a sneaking suspicion that it was his way of repaying you for the coffee. Your suspicion was confirmed he returned, taking his normal seat across from you and looking up at you from below his brows. “Arepas alright?” You nodded, and that was that. 

You and Javi fell into the friendly routine of coffee in the morning (and the puto gringo cafe throughout the day, of course) and arepas in the afternoon. You’d share jokes and gossip during your daily walk to buy arepas from the street vendors and take turns choosing which station to listen to on the nightly drives back from work.

Then, he’d walk you to your door, even though it was technically right next to his door, and bid you goodnight. Just because you stayed in for the nights, didn’t mean Javier did. You still heard him leave his apartment shortly after dropping you off, and would often hear him arriving again late into the night. You didn’t know where he went off to, and you thought it better that way. Not that it was your business anyways. The two of you had become closer over the weeks, but you were still only work friends, and nothing more.

A month passed and you still weren’t over this stupid crush. It’s not like he was making it any easier on you. He wasn’t flirting, per say, he was just too…nice. How could you be frustrated at someone for being too fucking nice? Ok, it’s possible you were frustrated with yourself as well. It wasn’t as if you had been doing yourself any favors: making him coffee and sharing inside jokes and dirty looks when someone said something stupid. You were digging your own metaphorical grave of unrequited attraction. 

Each small gesture, every door he opened for you, each arepa he offered, every little smile or friendly nudge chiseled away at your plan to not dig yourself deeper than you already had. You didn’t have any friends here yet, and that combined with Javier’s attention and looks…it was like there was no other option but for you to become slightly infatuated with the man.

The following day started at 4:30 in the morning when you, Javi, and el Bloque de Búsqueda raided a suspected sicario hideout. The results were minimal, but the paperwork was not. By the time midnight rolled around, the two of you were still covered in a layer of dried sweat and dirt, barely halfway through the stacks of folders and photos that needed to be sorted and documented. “I’m sure there’s something in here that we’re missing. I can feel it,” you stretched your back, as if that would make a difference in the mass of angry muscle that had been aching all day.

“Me too. Something’s not right with this.” Javier flipped through the pages of his own file before rolling out his soldiers. You were both tense from the heavy physical exertion and the immediate eight hours of sitting in chairs with zero back support. 

“My body feels like it’s going to disintegrate,” you sighed, leaning your head into your hands. “I need a hot shower, like, now.”

“You could come back to my place,” Javier mumbled. No more than a second later, his eyes grew wide, nearly bulging out of his head upon realizing the weight of his words. “Not to shower, that’s not what I meant.” Great. Lovely to know how absolutely repulsed he was by the idea of you naked in his apartment. “I meant you could shower at your place, and then we could look over the files afterwards. At mine. The couch is more comfortable.” 

You weren’t sure you had ever heard him ramble like that. It was endearing. So endearing that even though you should say no, that you should definitely not go to his place and sit on his couch late at night, you couldn’t bring yourself to decline his offer.

“That sounds much better,” you nodded. “Let’s go.”

-

What had he just done.

The car rides alone had been fucking torture. Javier had spent half the time trying not to embarrass himself by saying something stupid and the other half trying not to get distracted by your sweet smell. What did you even smell like? Coconut? Sugar? He wasn’t sure but he knew that he craved it. Your scent. Your taste. You.

And now this? Inviting you over to shower at his place? 

Fuck. His “no coworkers” rule was getting more and more difficult to keep. But how could he when you were there? Seducing him solely with your existence. 

He knew that this was a bad idea. He hadn’t even meant to invite you. The words just slipped out, and then he’d realized what he’d said and he had to fix it somehow. It’s not that he didn’t want to spend time with you or didn’t want to be alone with you. He did. Fuck he wanted to be alone with you. But he knew how dangerous that was. His self control had already been wearing thin and he knew that if he wasn’t careful, it would snap.

-

That hot shower, alone in your apartment, was the best thing you’d felt in weeks. You changed into a pair of capri leggings and your dad’s old t-shirt from his time in the Marines, feeling clean and refreshed. Your hair was still slightly damp, but you couldn’t be bothered to dry it. You doubted Javier would mind anyways.

Javier opened the door to his apartment and you noticed that he had also changed from his usual button down and jeans to a t-shirt and sweats. He smelled of soap and mint, although you could still sense the faint cling of tobacco on his skin. His wet hair curled slightly at the base of his neck, the rest of it spilling across his forehead. And maybe you imagined it, but you could have sworn that you saw his gaze slightly drop to your chest as he let you in. 

“Something to drink?” Javi offered as you curled yourself into his couch.

“Coke again?”

“I was thinking something stronger this time,” he chuckled to himself. “But if you want-”

“No,” you interrupted. “No. I definitely need something stronger.”

He nodded, pouring you both a glass of whiskey and taking a seat next to you on the couch. You felt the weight shift, causing you to lean towards him the tiniest bit. You took a sip of the drink, it burning as it went down. You cleared your throat hoping Javi wouldn’t notice your struggle. You were more of a fruity cocktail girl yourself. A tiny smirk on the edge of his lips caught your eye. Shit. He definitely noticed, but was considerate enough to say nothing else. 

You tried to focus on the work in front of you, but your attention kept drifting to Javier. You were used to watching him work, the two of you worked together every day, after all. But never on his couch, in the comfort of his own home, with wet hair and a t-shirt that clung to his chest. You could hear the soft exhale of his breath, feel him adjust himself when he became uncomfortable. Everytime he sipped his whiskey you imagined how his lips would feel on your skin instead of the glass.

These were dangerous thoughts to be having when you were alone. And drinking.

When Javi stretched, any and all thoughts flew out of your brain. His arms rose over his chest, flexing his deltoids which only accentuated his absurdly broad shoulders. He cracked his knuckles, drawing your attention to his long fingers. Just looking at them sent a shiver up your spine. The hem of his shirt rose up an inch or two to reveal the soft patch of golden skin peeking from beneath. If that wasn’t enough, the groan from the back of his throat elicited the desire that had been simmering under the surface of your skin for weeks to the top. Goosebumps broke out along your back and even though it wasn’t cold, you swore you felt your nipples tighten.

“Sore?”

“Fuck, yes.” Javier ground out. “I hate to admit it, but my back isn’t what it used to be.” He took a long drag of his cigarette. You hadn’t even noticed that he’d lit it. 

“I could, um,” you hesitated, internally debating whether or not this was a good idea or not. Of course it wasn’t, but you hadn’t gotten here by making ‘good choices’ had you. “I could give you a massage, if you’d like?” Your hands moved to your lap, needing something to fidget with “I’d charge people ten bucks for one in college as a side hustle, so I’m basically a professional. I’d give you a discount, of course,” you weakly laughed to yourself. Fuck, you were rambling again.

Javier didn’t seem to mind though. He never did. “You want to give me a massage?” 

You nodded bashfully, “Only if you want.”

“Like I could resist your hands on my body,” he winked. 

You stood up and grabbed a bottle of lotion from the side table and a chair from the dining table. hoping that if you hid your face he wouldn’t see the bright red that had blossomed across your cheeks. You set the chair in front of the couch, “You’ll need to sit facing the backrest, and put your arms up on it, too” you told him. He obeyed, spreading his legs open as he straddled the chair. “I’ll be right behind you,” you brushed your hand across his shoulder as you slid behind him, sitting back on the couch. In this position you were straddling him from behind, your thighs gently brushing against his hips. The warmth of his body burned through the fabric of your leggings, making you inhale sharply at the contact.

Holy shit, you hadn’t been this nervous since you were seventeen and about to sleep with a boy for the first time. Javier had you feeling like a teenager again and you were both fully clothed. About that… “Um, again, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” the last thing you wanted to do was make him feel pressured. “But it would be better if there wasn’t clothing in the way.”

“You asking me to strip for you, Conejita?” 

You were so stunned, your brain couldn’t even keep up to question his use of this new pet name. “Just- just the shirt will do.” You could feel his smirk even though he was facing away from you. The chair creaked as Javier leaned back, grabbing the bottom of his shirt and slowly peeling it up and off his body. Holy shit. You hadn’t seen him shirtless before, and it was a sight to behold. His waist was impossibly narrow but his back stretched out to his straight, broad shoulders. His round deltoids connected to the very visible outline of his trapezius. A beautifully defined line ran down the middle of his back where hip dimples peeked out from the waistband of his pants. He was a fucking piece of art.

You felt his body tense under your gaze, which was the exact opposite of your desired reaction. “Relax, Jav,” you soothed, tracing a finger down his spine. “You need to be comfortable if you want to get anything out of this.” He released a terse breath, his previous flirty demeanor entirely gone. You rubbed reassuring circles along his hip. “I’m going to start now, alright?”

“Ok,” you noticed that his voice had dropped an octave. 

You started by pumping a handful of the, surprisingly enough, eucalyptus scented lotion into your palm and spreading it across the wide expanse of Javi’s back, starting from the bottom and working your way up, gradually increasing the pressure. You loved the feeling of his bare skin beneath your palms. His back was warm and soft, dusted with a light layer of freckles. Several raised patches of scarred skin stood out to you and you wondered about the stories behind them.

Once the lotion was worked in you began to knead the skin across his back, again working your way from the bottom up. Javier sucked in a tight breath as you came to an especially stubborn knot in his shoulder. “Let me know if I’m hurting you too much. It may be uncomfortable, but you shouldn’t be in pain.” You continued working that patch of muscle, but with a gentler hand. You rubbed small circles with your thumbs until you felt the knot melting away and Javi visibly relaxing. 

He let out a long, open mouthed exhale, “That feels amazing. Please don’t stop.”

An image of Javier saying that, undressed and beneath your hands, but in a very different situation, flashed through your mind. Perhaps in his bed. What did it look like? You bet it smelled like him. Or maybe right here, on the couch. Could things have gone differently tonight if the two of you had had a few more drinks? God, you knew this was inappropriate but what else were you supposed to think of when he talked to you like that?

Focusing on the soft smell of eucalyptus, you continued your work, twisting your hands across his back, stretching the skin and underlying muscles back and forth. Up and down his back your hands roamed, thoroughly working through each tense area until you were satisfied. “You did so good, Conejita,” you bit your bottom lip to stop the gasp that threatened to escape. “If you don’t mind there’s this one spot in my neck that’s been driving me crazy for days. Right here,” he pointed to the  prominent muscle on the side of his neck. 

“Of course,” you hoped he couldn’t hear how breathy your voice had become. Pressing your thumbs to the heated skin, you circled and pinched at the amalgamated knot. How had you missed this? 

As your fingers danced across his skin, you heard something rumble at the base of Javier’s chest. A deep, primal noise. You felt it rise up through his throat and out past his lips. The quiet groan sent a deep ache shooting straight down to your core, making your chest flutter and your panties grow damp. Just from that one little noise, god damnit. 

Immediately, his body tensed up beneath you again. Hopefully all your hard work hadn’t just gone to waste. “That’s better. Thank you,” his voice was rough, as if there was still another groan trapped in his throat. 

“Any time,” you murmured. 

Looking over his shoulder, he gave you a soft, closed mouth smile, his face softening. “Really, you’re wonderful.” You noticed that his cheeks had a pinkish flush across them.  He looked so pretty like this, vulnerable and safe and relaxed. As if he wasn’t carrying so much weight on his shoulders. You were glad that you were able to ease it, even if just for the night. 

-

It was nearly three in the morning by the time you had brushed your teeth and gotten into bed. Even though you had been awake for close to twenty four straight hours, sleep refused to overtake you. Instead, your mind was wide awake, pleasurably plagued by memories of Javi’s toned, muscled figure, his smooth skin beneath your hands, and that heart-stopping noise that you had drawn out of him with nothing but your hands on his back. What other sounds would he make? With less clothes and more touching?

Would his voice remain deep and husky? Rough and raspy like the stubble on his cheeks brushing against your thighs and his calloused hands on your hips. Would he growl dirty words into your ear while he takes you from behind? You imagined how he could toss you around like you weighed nothing. How he would have his way with you, using you for his own pleasure. And god, that thought shouldn’t turn you on so much, but what could you do about it now that you knew what hid underneath his cotton button downs?

As if with a mind of its own, your hand migrated below the waistband of your underwear, fingers slipping between your already soaked folds as your mind continued to drift.

Or would he be soft and sweet? Warm and velvety like the chocolate pools of his eyes and the way his muscles moved in a smooth, fluent motion. The way he called you Conejita, gently cradling the word in his mouth like it would shatter if he wasn’t careful. You imagined him praising you, coating you with sweet, sugary words while he gently worked you over the edge. Would he try to keep quiet but be unable to prevent the little whines and whimpers from slipping out? Just the thought of Javier whimpering was enough to send a visceral shudder throughout your body.

Your eyes drifted shut as two fingers slid inside to collect your own wetness and spread it around. Your other hand rose to your tits, gently massaging it while you began to rub soft, slow circles around your clit. A small whimper arose in the back of your throat as you picked up the pace, the strokes turning longer and more repetitive. You imagined it was his hand working you, imagined his skin, hot against yours. His head between your thighs.

God, it didn’t take much after that. You tightly pinched your hardened nipple while your fingers swirled tight, fast circles, hitting just the right spot on your sensitive clit and you came right there, and clenching around nothing, wishing that Javi was there to fill the aching emptiness.