#javier pena x f!reader

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Summary: Your brothers take you and Javi out to a local bar when you're home to visit. When you run into one of your old childhood friends, Javi can't help but feel jealous

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no use of y/n, established relationship)

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v (whoops), creampie, breeding kink (only in the sense that there's no way in hell Javi's pulling out I know, who is she?), semi-public sex (gettin nasty in a grimy bar bathroom), two ass slaps, drinking/alcohol consumption, Jealous Javi, lowkey Javi is a dick (again, who is she writing nothing but fluff?!)

A/N: Shoutout to @yxtkiwiyxt for more horny Javi ideas rotting my brain at all hours of the day!!! 🤠 I can't believe that there has never been a jealousy one shot for these two in the great wide world of the NTL universe, but you bet your ass that Javier Peña is a possessive man to his core and tolerates zero bullshit from any man who dares to even look at you too long 😌 poorly beta'd bc I'm horny and impatient

Can be read as a part of the It's Never Too Late series!

"Another one?"

"Are you trying to make sure I have miserable hangover tomorrow?"

"Me? Never. Just tryin' to make sure you have fun." Your brother David teased, voice oozing with sarcasm as he popped off his barstool, giving you a playful nudge for your accusation.

While you and Javi had made a few trips back to your hometown of Chicago to visit your family since your move to Laredo, most of it had either been spent at your childhood home with your entire family, or at other family events, like your cousin's wedding a few months ago.

And of course, while your brothers, Charlie and David, were a part of your family, there was a substantial difference between spending time with your whole family together, and spending time with just your brothers.

So when they had convinced you and Javi to come out with them to Rossi's, your favorite dive bar in the city, under the guise of a few drinks and time to catch up, you shouldn't have been shocked to find yourself 4 beers and two shots of whisky deep, and preparing for a much longer night ahead of you than originally anticipated.

"'Nother one for you, big guy?" Charlie asked Javi, following behind David to make their way through the hot and sweaty mess of bodies crowding behind the bar for another drink.

"And before you answer, no isn't an option." David added, sneaking up behind Javi and shaking his shoulders.

"God, you are so annoying." You sighed, rolling your eyes at your brother, jabbing your elbow into his side to keep him from wrestling Javi out of his seat, "Just do two more beers. And I swear, if you come back with another shot, I'm pouring it over your head."

The four of you laughed before your brothers disappeared into the sea of bar patrons, leaving you and Javi giggling at your table.

"Fuck, I haven't drank this much since- God, I don't even remember." Javi sighed, running his hand through his hair and down the back of his head, rubbing the dark curls at the nape of his neck.

"Me either." You replied, followed by a long, low burp and more laughter, "I think the last time I was this drunk, I was here with David and Charlie and all their friends watching the Blackhawks lose in the playoffs, but all I remember is Charlie telling me I threw up in a bush and that he had to carry me to our taxi to get home. But don't worry, I promise not to get that drunk tonight."

"Sounds good, party animal." Javi smirked, placing his hand on your thigh under the table, rubbing it back and forth along the denim of your jeans, snickering at your drunken giggles.

The two of you both reached for your drinks, finishing off the last of what was left in your beer bottles, startled when you swore you had heard your name from a voice you knew wasn't Javi's, Charlie's or David's.

"Cubby? Holy shit, is that you?!"

Setting down your drink, you swerved your head over your shoulder, jaw dropping in complete surprise to see Frankie, one of your brother's best friends you had known for as long as you could remember.

"Frankie?! Oh my god, what the fuck?! Hi!" You squealed, shooting up out of your seat to give him a hug, the alcohol already in your system perhaps making you a little more enthusiastic about your greeting you would have been otherwise.

"What the hell are you doing here?! I thought the goons said you moved to Texas after everything that happened!" Frankie asked excitedly, parting from your hug to take a step back and look at you, shocked by your presence.

"I did, but I'm here visiting for the week! Charlie and David are at the bar right now getting drinks, but they'll be back in a second! Frankie, oh my god, I'm so happy to see you!" You grinned, giving him a playful shove.

"Me too. I feel like I haven't seen you in forever! You- You look great-" He paused, trying his best to play off his comment, quickly shifting topics, "Things uh, everything's been going good for you?"

"Yeah, things have been great! How about you? Wait, we have a table right here, do you wanna sit down and catch up? Unless you're busy, I don't wanna keep you!" You offered, gesturing towards the table behind you where Javi was sitting.

"Yeah, yeah, that would be fuckin' great! I'm meetin' a few buddies here later, but I have plenty of time to catch up if you guys have some room to squeeze me in!"

While you knew there would be plenty of room for one more person at your table, even after your brothers returned, what you didn't know is that since the moment Frankie had shown up, everything about Javi's once happy and carefree demeanor had completely changed.

And not for the better.

As soon as you turned around to face Javi, you could immediately sense the shift in tension, watching his brow furrow and hand wrap tighter around the neck of the near empty beer bottle he was nursing, practically burning a hole through Frankie with the way he was staring him down.

It seemed like Frankie could immediately sense it too, looking over at you before looking back at Javi, as if to silently ask who the hell was sitting with you and your brothers, looking like he was ready to commit murder, at the very least.

"Who's uh...." Frankie paused, awkwardly laughing as he nodded at Javi, trying his best to not seem off-put by Javi's clearly uncomfortable expression.

"I'm so sorry, Frank, this is my-"

"Fiancé. Javi." Javi stated, cutting off the rest of your introduction as he stood up out of his seat, sizing up Frankie as he offered a forceful handshake.

"Fiancé? Lucky guy." Frankie replied, forcing a friendly smile as he shook Javi's hand, "Congrats, I had no idea you were engaged." He shrugged, looking back at you with a more genuine expression before awkwardly shuffling around the table to find a seat across from you and Javi.

"Thanks, we got engaged in November and the wedding's in July!" You chimed in, hoping to try and ease Javi's obvious, unwarranted hostility towards Frankie.

"Oh nice!" Frankie nodded, smiling at both you and Javi, the crinkle in his cheeks dropping at Javi's still unamused facade, "Where you guys gettin' married? Here or Texas?"

"Texas." Javi answered, short and snappy with his response.

"Frank the Tank? No fuckin' way man! What's up?!"

The three of you all seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief at David's voice, turning your head to see him and Charlie making their way back, beers in hand.

"What's up, you goons? Long time, no see!" Frankie grinned, standing up to greet your brothers with happy pats on the back.

As the three of them said their 'hello's' you stayed put next to Javi, whapping his shoulder with the back of your hand, forcing him to face the frustrated frown plastered across your expression.

"What the fuck was that for?" You whispered to him, not wanting to draw any attention from your brothers and Frankie as they caught up.

"What?" Javi asked, shrugging nonchalantly before taking another sip of his beer, setting down the empty bottle with a forceful thud.

"W-what- What the fuck do you mean, 'what'?" You frowned, quickly realizing that Javi was trying to play dumb about the clearly uncomfortable interaction he and Frankie had just been through.

Javi silently shrugged again, jaw ticking from side to side as he looked back and forth between you and Frankie before speaking again.

"Just have never heard of Frankie before today. Didn't know you'd be so excited to see someone I didn't even know existed until five minutes ago."

"I've known Frankie since I was like, six years old. He's been one of my brother's best friends for like, ever. So yes, I was excited to see him. Would you like me to disclose every other person I've ever met and not mentioned to you, too?" You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, feeling your scowl sink deeper into the wrinkles of your forehead.

Both groups of conversations seemed to lull at the same time, Frankie, David and Charlie all turning back towards your table to see the sour looks on both yours and Javi's faces.

"You good?" Charlie asked, handing a beer to you and then one to Javi.

"Listen, it was super nice to see all of you guys, but I don't wanna overstay my welcome or anything. I can just wait at the bar for my buddies if the four of you wanna hang out." Frankie suggested, clearly realizing he must have been the shift for the change of tone at the table.

"What, you're gonna catch up with these two idiots and leave me hanging? Seriously, please stay, we haven't hung out all together in forever!"

While Javi was able to make it subtle enough to everyone else, you could clearly tell that your invitation was the exact opposite of what he was hoping to hear.

"Only if you're-"

"Yes, I'm sure, Frankfurter, get a drink and sit your ass down!" You insisted, shooing Frankie towards the bar along with your brothers, the three of you howling over Frankie's long forgotten childhood nickname.

If he hadn't made it blatantly clear before, your avid encouragement for Frankie to join your group certainly had.

Right now, Javier Peña was one thing, and one thing only.

Jealous.

"I still can't believe you won't admit that I beat you!"

"Because you didn't!"

"I did, and you know it, David! C'mon you guys, back me up here!"

It hadn't taken much for the five of you to down a few more drinks- For four of you, you let the alcohol flowing through your veins loosen you up even more, laughing and reminiscing about your favorite shared childhood memories, teasing and taunting each other over the silly trials and tribulations of your youth.

For the other, the few beers and glasses of whisky swirling around in his stomach were nothing but a way to keep from saying (or doing) something out of spite that he'd regret.

"I'm gonna be honest with you here, Dave, I'm not gonna say that your sister's right, buuuut...." Frankie smirked, holding up his beer bottle to you, giving you a silent cheers of approval.

"See?! Told you! Thank you, Frankie, at least someone knows what they're talking about." You teased, giving David a jab in his stomach as he rolled his eyes at you.

"Dare I say, Cubby is more of a badass than either of you two clowns, but I don't know if you can handle that conversation yet." Frankie smiled, reaching across the table for a fist bump, "She's a pretty kick ass hockey player, ya know."

Javi had been so focused on picking at the waterlogged label of his beer bottle, he hadn't even noticed that Frankie was trying to talk to him, only looking in his direction after a nudge from your brother.

"Hmm?" Javi hummed, barely bothering to look in Frankie's direction to acknowledge his comment.

"I said your fiancé is a badass. Didn't know if you knew how good she was at hockey, that's all." Frankie shrugged, before taking another sip of his beer.

"Yeah, why the fuck would I not know that? She's my fiancé." Javi huffed, jaw clenching.

"Javi, seriously?" You whispered, shooting him a stern look as you had to quite literally bite your tongue to keep from causing a scene at the way he was behaving.

"Sorry, man, I- I was just givin' her a compliment." Frankie grimaced, shooting you an apologetic look from across the table.

"Yeah, I think you've made it pretty fucking clear how much you like complimenting her." Javi grumbled, just loud enough for you to hear and to having you fuming at your fiancé's enraging behavior.

You took one long, low deep breath, trying to compose yourself as the rest of the table sat in uncomfortable silence, wishing they had a chainsaw to cut through the palpable tension shrouding the air.

"Can I talk to you for a second, please?"

Javi knew just as well as you that even though you had phrased it as a question, he certainly had no choice in the matter, begrudgingly trailing behind you as you silently excused the both of you from the table.

In a stark silence, Javi followed behind you through the sea of drunken strangers that filled the bar until you reached a semi quiet hallway near the back of the building by the bathrooms.

You let out a frustrated sigh as your back bounced against the wall, using it to prop yourself as you stared at Javi, arms folded over his chest and eyes wandering in anywhere but your direction.

"What the fuck is going on, Javi? And don't bullshit me and say that you don't know what I'm talking about because you clearly do." You demanded, nostrils flaring and fists clenched.

"Like I really need to fucking say it." Javi huffed, shaking his head with a sarcastic laugh.

"You don't, because you've made it very clear, but yeah, I'd like to hear you say it."

You could feel the heat seething through your veins as Javi chewed at the inside of his lip, trying to bide whatever time he could to keep from bruising his pride.

"Wow, I really cannot believe this. You're seriously that threatened by Frankie?" You scoffed, stunned that Javi couldn't bring himself to admit it.

"I'm not fuckin' threatened by him." He spit back, eyes peeled to the ground. "He's just way too fucking comfortable with you."

"Oh, you cannot be serious. Because I've known him forever and he's a nice guy? Jesus Christ, Javi."

"I've been watching the way he's been fucking looking at you since the moment he said hello to you. How he's talking to you, acting with you, it's like- Jesus, it's like he trying to-"

"What? Like he's trying to flirt with me? Like he likes me?" You questioned, raising your voice enough to finally get Javi to look at you, letting him feel the frustration you were engulfed in.

"Yes! Jesus fucking Christ, yes!" Javi groaned back, growing more heated by the second.

"And what if he was, Javi? What if he was trying to flirt with me? Do you really in your right mind think that I would ever, EVER pick him above you?" You asked, throwing up your hands in defeat, voice trembling as you fought back tears, "So what if he was? I'm yours, Javi, and I've got the fucking ring on my finger to prove it."

You and Javi stood in silence for a moment, watching each other's chests rise and fall on beat. You swear you can see it in his eyes, the way everything about Javi seems to shift, realizing how badly he'd fucked tonight up.

Before you can get in another word, you can see Javi's eyes lock on the single stall bathroom door that's swung open at the end of the hallway, looking once at you and once again at the bathroom. You weren't even able to protest before he had grabbed you by the hand, checking once over his shoulder before ushering you inside and locking the door behind him.

As the lock clicked, you could feel the heat in your cheeks burning, and not just with anger like they were a few moments ago. The dim light of the bathroom flickered over the shadowy figure of Javi's broad body until he had your back flushed against the sink, pinning you between the porcelain and him.

"Javi, what are you-"

Suddenly, Javi had one hand cradling the back of your head, the other wrapped around your hip as he craned his neck down to let his lips collide with yours.

The angry part of you wanted to push him off you, to berate him with your frustrations until he apologized for how childishly he had behaved tonight.

Every other part of you that was so turned on by the fact Javi was so worked up, he had no other choice than to fuck you in the bathroom to prove that you were his, couldn't have cared less about it.

"You're all fucking mine, you know that?" Javi growled, his words warm against your skin, muffled between messy kisses.

"I'm all yours, Javi." You moaned, fighting to let each word escape from your lips as your mouths became frantic, colliding with tongues and teeth.

Your breath hitched in the back of your throat as Javi's hands slid down your sides, fingers fumbling with the button and zipper on your jeans until he the denim and your underwear pooled around your ankles.

After your jeans had dropped to the ground, his hands were back on your sides, fingertips digging into your skin as he flipped you around, your stomach pressed against the countertop, ass flushed against his hips where you could feel the strain of his cock beneath his pants.

"No one else gets to have you like this. Gets to make you feel like I do." Javi groaned, your core aching at the clanking of his belt coming undone behind you, watching his brow furrow in concentration in the reflection from the mirror in front of you, "Do they, baby?"

"N-No." You whimpered, feeling him run his tip through your folds, collecting the slick that had already begun pooling between your thighs.

"You gonna let me fuck you right here in this bathroom, hermosa? Let everyone here know that you're mine?" Javi mewled, whispering into your ear as he buried his head in the crook of your neck.

"Mhmmmhh." You nodded, whining as Javi teased you with the head of his cock, prodding at your entrance, "Please."

Javi chuckled softly to himself, hearing you gasp as he filled you with every inch of him, hips pressed firmly against your ass. You could practically feel your eyes roll to the back of your head with how full he felt inside you, despite how easily you had taken him from how wet and worked up you were.

"Love this pussy so much, baby. Always so fucking wet and tight for me."

Your eyes opened as Javi began to thrust into you, startled by the already deliberate pace he was setting with each snap of his hips. Staring back at the mirror, you could see the smug smirk spreading between Javi's cheeks, knowing how quickly he could make you crumble.

Your hands shot back behind you, wrapping around Javi's stomach, trying to grab fist fulls of his shirt to brace yourself as he fucked into you. With the grip Javi had around your hips, you shouldn't have been worried about going anywhere, only about the marks that he'd leave in the pump flesh of your skin after he was finished.

"Oh fuck, Javi! Fuck, oh my godddd-" You moaned, all consumed by the feeling of his length sliding in and out of your cunt, perfectly pounding at your g-spot with every thrust.

You tried to let your head dip back, but before you could tilt it any further, one of Javi's hands had shifted, snaking up your front and wrapping around your jaw, forcing your gaze back in the mirror to meet his.

"Nuh uh, mi amor," he paused, gritting his teeth as he swore under his breath, trying to compose himself, "need to see you, Osita. Wanna see that pretty face when I make you cum and fuck you so fucking full of me, you're gonna feel me dripping out of you all night."

His words had seemed to spark something feral in the both of you, moaning his name as you backed your ass up further into him, taking everything that he had to give.

With your eyes locked in filthy glass reflection, Javi's hand slid back down your sides, smacking your ass before reaching around to your front, slotting himself between your thighs to find your clit, puffy and aching to be touched.

"Fuck, Javi! Feels so fucking good." You whined, the newfound pressure of his fingers against your clit causing the tingle building at the base of your spine to grow rapidly.

"Yeah? And who's the only one that gets to make you feel this good, baby?" Javi grunted, hips slapping against your ass, each thrust feeling harder and deeper than the last.

With the way Javi was fucking you, you felt lucky that your brain could manage to string together a coherent thought, let a lone a comprehendible sentence, your words heavy and breathless as you fought against the overwhelming sensation of your orgasm starting to creep through your body.

"You! It's- fuck- it's you Javi! Only you!" You sobbed, praying that the music and chatter of the bar was loud enough to drown out your volume.

"That's my girl." Javi devilishly grinned, feeling the way your cunt was clamping down around his cock, sensing how close you were to finishing, "Gotta cum first for me, hermosa. Fuckin' soak me before I cum so deep inside of you."

Javi began to circle your clit faster, putting just enough pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves to push you over the edge, your vision going white as your orgasm began to crash through you.

"Fuck, Javi! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck-ahhhhh!"

You could feel how instantly limp your body had gone, so drunk on pleasure, that if Javi hadn't been behind you, holding you up, you were convinced you would have collapsed over the edge of the sink you were fucking on.

You knew Javi wasn't far behind you, his thrusts becoming sloppy and frantic as he chased his own high, desperate to make good on his promise to fill you with every last drop he had to give.

"That's it, baby. Fuck, I'm- mierda- I'm close. Gonna give you everything. Let everyone know who this pussy belongs to. Feels so fucking- fuck- so fucking good. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!"

With one last pump of his cock, Javi was spilling inside you, painting your walls with his spend, burying himself inside your cunt until he you had taken everything he had to give.

The warmth and wetness of your mixed arousal pooled where your bodies met, making a mess between your thighs as Javi began to pull out.

The both of you watched as your bodies rose and fell in the mirror, trying desperately to catch your breath in your post orgasmic haze. It wasn't long until your unhinged jaws were replaced with devious smirks, Javi grabbing you by the waist to flip him back towards him, pulling you to his chest as he kissed you.

"Damn, maybe I should make you jealous more often." You teased, biting down on your lip as you gave Javi a loving poke on his chest before reaching down to pull your pants back up your legs.

"Whatever." Javi sighed, playfully rolling his eyes at you as he did the same, looping his belt back through his jeans. He let out another deep breath, arms crossed over his chest as he looked up at you with a sheepish shrug, "I'm- fuck. I'm sorry about tonight. I was a dick."

"It's okay." You smiled, pressing up on your tiptoes to drape your arms around his neck, planting a soft kiss on his lips, "I love you. And only you. I don't think you could get rid of me, even if you tried. And I think that me letting you fuck me in this dirty ass bar bathroom proves that."

The two of you laughed, turning back to the mirror to readjust the sweaty mats of tangled hair and crinkled clothes in hopes of avoiding any suspicions when you made your way back to the table.

"I know. Still shouldn't have been an asshole about it." He shrugged, stepping behind you so that his chest was pressed against your back and arms were draped across your front, his mustache tickling your neck as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, "This was fucking hot, though."

"It was. Feel sorry for the next person who has to use this bathroom." You grimaced, hoping that you hadn't managed to leave a trace of the ways you had further disrespected the dingy restroom.

"You wanna head out first, or should I?" Javi asked, rocking you back and forth in his grasp, swaying you just enough to make you burst out into giggles.

"It's so late and I'm sure everyone here is hammered, we probably just could sneak out at the same time and no one would notice." You suggested, still drunk enough to not care enough about a proper escape plan.

After one last kiss and smack of your ass, Javi quickly cracked open the door, doing one swift scan before giving you the nod to note the coast was clear.

Javi grabbed you by the hand, looking back at you with a stupid smirk as the two of you left the bathroom, unsuspecting and assuming that you'd be able to make it down the hallway without any run ins.

Unfortunately, Javi hadn't noticed the body across the bar, making a B-line to the bathroom through the drunken crowd towards the bathrooms after his half-assed check.

Before any of you could process it, Javi collided with the other person, both people grunting and stumbling backwards, mumbling apologies as they collected themselves, until they locked eyes.

"Oh, uh- Sorry. Didn't uh- Didn't see you guys coming." Frankie stammered, looking back and forth between you and Javi and the bathroom you had just emerged from, quickly piecing the puzzle before him together.

"All good. See you, uh- see you back at the table." Javi winced, trying his best to keep from laughing as both your cheeks began to turn a bright shade of pink as you slid past Frankie.

"Looks like you may not end up being the only jealous one tonight, Jav."

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[thesummerpetrichor]

𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓫𝓮 𝓶𝔂 𝓭𝓪𝓭𝓭𝔂

Father in law!Javier Peña x afab!fem!reader

Summary: Your soon to be husband leaves you at the alter, but you should have guessed since the practice seemed to run in the family. It’s hard to be upset however, when his father comes to repent for not only his own but his son’s wrong doings. Aka fiancé’s dad Javi fucking you in your wedding dress after his son ditches you at the altar.

Warnings: 18+ only minors DNI you will be blocked. Minimal editing, unspecified but thicc and legal age gap, infidelity, daddy kink, heavy breeding kink, insane dirty talk, toxic father son relationship, reader is delulu, praise kink, petnames, sex in front of a mirror, veil pulling??, a few spanks, creampie, Javi fucks you into the mattress, unprotected P in V [don’t do it!!]. Let me know if I missed anything 🫶.

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: Literally just porn without plot, lotsa fucking, I want father in law Javi. Minimally edited lmao I just banged this out Can’t wait for you to read it!! Hope you enjoy, nasties! Mwah!

Masterlist

You rich and I'm wishin', um

You could be my mister, yum

Delicious to the maximum

Chew you up like bubble gum

You love me, he wants me

I think I want you too

Best day of your life- yeah, what a fucking joke. But what were you expecting? Ditching people at the altar seemed to run in the family. Okay, maybe that was a bit of a harsh assessment of the Peñas, especially Peña senior, who, despite all you had heard of him from your ex fiance, had always shown you kindness. 

The thing is, it becomes really fucking hard to be charitable to a family when their son humiliates you infront of the entirety of Texas. Leaves you high and dry on the steps of the biggest church in town in your great grandmother’s silk dress. It becomes even harder when you learn his mother had been in on it all along, sparing you not even a little apology, or a comforting embrace after her son's little getaway plan had been revealed. 

Instead of extending you a supporting hand, she ran away to make sure her baby boy was okay, and that this entire ordeal hadn’t taken a toll on his emotional and psychological well being. 

How thoughtful. 

Of course, you were the pathetic one– unable to look anyone in the eye, sobbing on your fathers shoulder till you couldn’t breathe any longer. So distraught and unwell even getting out of your wedding attire seemed impossible. It only made you feel even more pathetic. At some point you ended up curling up in your hotel bed, still in the “happiest day of your life” outfit, and pleading for some time alone from your friends and family to wallow in your own suffering. 

You would eat your feelings in the from of the apology chocolates the hotel had complimented for you, but you couldn’t manage to even do that without feeling like a total fucking looser. 

After all that had transpired, and after years of hearing nothing but sour things about your soon to be father in law, safe to say you were surprised to see him at your hotel room door at midnight as the ambassador the family seemingly sent to smooth things over. 

For it being only your second time meeting the man, this was far from the most opportune scenario. In fact, him showing up all sorrowful and apologetic for his shitty excuse of a son, in his navy blue suit and loose tie, made your already pathetic day all the more difficult to get through. 

Your whole relationship you had blamed every fault of your boyfriend on his absent, detached father. You’d heard plenty about the lack of childhood visits, quality time, and playing soccer that had plagued your partner’s life, and had found it quite easy and comforting to pile on every relationship problem you ever came across as the consequence of Javier Peña’s lack of responsibility and good parenting. 

What you didn’t expect, was to find that Javi Peña was a whole lot more normal and level headed than you anticipated. He was just a guy trying to make a good living and provide for his family. Sure, he was a little bit reserved, but he was only ever warm and sweet and even quite chatty with you. To be frank, you should have seen your boyfriend’s shitty behavior as a consequence of his insufferable mother from a mile away. God knew you weren’t expecting Peña Sr. to be the better of your two soon to be in laws. 

That being said, you would have never expected to be on your hands and knees, on what was supposed to be your marital bed, being pounded from behind by your ex soon to be father in-law. 

Because that's where you are now, eyes rolling to the back of your head thanks to the most intense pleasure you've ever felt. The drag of Javis cock against your walls has been building a steady heat in your belly, the stretch of him so perfect and delicious it has you pushing your hips back to meet his every thrust. 

Any other day a man like him wouldn’t have needed much to woo you– with his cut jaw, handsome features and those chocolate brown eyes you wished his son had inherited. Safe to say on a day like this one it took even less, just a few rubs on your back, a hand smoothing over your head and trailing down your waist, a few “pretty girls” and “poor things” and some fucking sympathy from someone from your boyfriends sorry family. 

Fucking pathetic. 

But Javier knows his son is pathetic, knows he is a good for nothing moron who doesn't even know what he was losing out on when he walked out on you.

“He’s a fuckin fool- look at this tight little pussy, squeezin’ me so fuckin good. Bet he didn’t fuck ya like this, huh baby? Didn’t make ya cum over and over, make ya scream… stupid fuckin boy..” Javier’s grip on your hips tightens on hearing your moan, and he curses under his breath when your pussy flutters around his cock. 

Your legs are threatening to give out under you, your knees tender from how long you've been leaning on them. Javier’s hand moves to grip the fabric of your veil, using it to pull your head back and make you face the mirror that's been teasing you all evening. “Look- Look at ya- fuckin cryin’ on my cock. ‘S the only reason ya’ shoulda’ be cryin’ in this pretty dress..” With drooping eyes you're faced with your own reflection– stains from your mascara running down your face now less thanks to the sorry of the afternoon and more thanks to the way Javi’s cock has been nudging your sweetspot. 

You watch your tits spill out of your beautiful silk dress, the fabric now disheveled and a far cry from the sophisticated, simplistic garment it once was. You can barely recognise it, but then again you can barely recognise your own reflection. “Look at that pretty little body- fuckin made for me.” 

“Yours-” you cut yourself off with a gasp, Javi’s hands squeeze your hips and your cheeks set ablaze at the way he looks at you when you catch it in the mirror. The whole sight is so debauched and depraved– you on your hands and knees for a man who could easily be mistaken for your father. But somehow it's even dirtier- the possibility of your ex finding out sends you into overdrive. 

The silk of your dress brushes against your hot skin, flipped lewdly up to reveal your bare ass, bunched at the waist, the straps drooping and threatening to fall. Javi pulls the zip down even further, watching as it hangs off your body, draped like fabric from a 15th century painting. 

Javi’s voice calls your attention back to the present moment, lewd words showing you he doesn't hold back the way his son does. “Gonna fill this tight little cunt up..” The stretch is so delicious between your legs, you feel the steady throb continue to tighten the coil inside you and you can’t help but moan. “Yeah, you want that? Want daddy to put a baby in you?” the thought makes you shiver, that name makes you shiver, has your cunt clenching around his cock. What an image- you, belly round with your father in laws child, well, your ex father in law. Unlike his son you were sure he would be the perfect husband, would bend you over ever surface in your picket fence house and fuck you just like he’s doing now. 

Deep, and hard and fast, just like you need it. Just like you've always needed it.. 

“Please daddy, want your babies, wanna be yours…” Your voice is so broken and wrecked you're afraid he can’t understand what you're even saying. To be honest you can’t be bothered much, it feels so good, his thick, hard cock feels so good pounding between your thighs there's little else you can keep your mind on. 

“Yeah? you like that sweetheart? we can play house..” you nod your head and his hand tightens its grip around your veil, exaggerating your movements, bending you to his will. “Wanna play house with daddy? can be my pretty little wife” you fist the sheets, pushing back against him with his every thrust. You do want that, you’ve always wanted that. And what better person to do it with. Sure, his wife always complained about how he was never around, but that's looking a lot more like a her problem– especially with the way Javi’s tip continues to kiss your sweet spot. 

“Yes daddy, please..”  

Javier lets go of your veil, and pushes his palm between your shoulder blades, forcing you down into the mattress till your cheek is pressed against the warm, fluffy duvet. One hand keeps you there, the other lands a quick spank to your ass and kneads at the flesh with a newfound desperation. “Won't be able to even say his goddamn name after I'm done with ya. Stupid boy doesnt know how to treat a pretty thing like you– so sweet, so gorgeous, so fucking smart. Too fucking good for him.” 

With your lips parted and breathing heavy you drool onto the covers, letting Javi pound you into the mattress and overshadow every other thought that dared cross your head earlier in the day. If his plan is to make you forget about anything that isn't him, it sure is working. You don't think you’d even want to sound out his incompetent son’s name after he’s done with you. 

As if he can read your mind his voice calls from behind you. “Want ya to be drippin with me.” the wet schick of his cock fucking into your tight, wet, hole reminds you of just how needy you are for him, and the prospect of having him dripping out of you– down your thighs, between your legs, leaving you all messy for him to come back and do it all over again, drives you absolutely insane. 

“He’s fuckin useless, just like his ma. But look at you, so fucking tight ‘round me, making all those pretty sounds, she fuckin’ wishes she was you.” His words have your cunt squeezing around his cock, and a lewd, pornographic moan slipping past your lips. “My girl’s gonna be the perfect lil’ mamma, aren’t ya, so fuckin’ pretty.” You would certainly like that- in fact you’re almost surprised with how appealing it sounds to you. 

“Gonna be perfect for you daddy, only for you.” your dress rides up even further, the front slipping further down. 

“Thats my fucking girl.” That growl of his sends shivers down your spine– possessive, and confident and dripping like honey from his lips. It was almost like it could send you over the edge by itself. The lewd creaking of the bedframe fills the room, the sound of skin on skin driving you wild. The way he handles you– firm and deft but gentle and passionate, it's nothing like his son. 

He’s nothing like his son. 

“Yeah, bet it feels good don’t it, bein’ fucked by a real man? Feel daddy so deep in ya? Nothin ever been that deep before, huh..” You shake your head ‘no’ and he coos at how pathetic you must sound, barely able to make a coherent sound, forget string together a whole sentence. 

“Make me go fuckin’ crazy, babygirl.” 

What he says is fucking filthy, there’s no denying, no justifying it. It makes you squirm, makes you even wetter, makes you want him even more. 

“Think you wanna go back to him? With daddy’s cum drippin between those pretty thighs, show him how a real man treats his girl?” 

“Gonna make ya beg him to stay, gonna talk some sense into him, just so daddy can have ya all to himself, ain't that right? You gonna sneak into daddy’s room in the middle of the night? All wet an’ achy? Beggin’ daddy to fuck ya how ya need?” 

“Wanna run away with me baby, live in a perfect little house, let daddy give ya his babies, fuck ya full’ve my cum every single night?” 

His hands roam your body, smoothing over your hips, reaching forward to squeeze at your breasts, pinching and kneading the flesh. He bends down to trail light kisses along your spine and the feeling is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Your head twists side to side against the sheets as you squirm, each sensation like it's heightened to the maximum, the heaviness and the throb between your thighs at an all time high. 

You know you're close, you can’t hold it off much longer. Your cunt squeezes and your toes curl. You also know Javi won't last, you can feel him pulse against your swollen walls, can feel the way he desperately thrusts into you, pushes you further down against the mattress, grips your skin with that renewed fervor, with the desperation of doing anything to hold on to the incredible sensation. 

“Come for me, babygirl, come for daddy, show daddy how much ya needed this, show daddy how bad ya need his cock.” 

Your legs part even further under you, if that's even physically possible, your entire upper body being smashed into the mattress. You call out Javi’s name, followed by a string of desperate, strained, whiny daddy daddy daddy’s. 

With a strangled moan that's partially muffled by the covers you come undone, your head spins and your heart pounds in your chest, you feel yourself gush and clamp down around his cock. You feel Javi’s hips stutter behind you and his cock throb against your wet walls. The feeling only prologues and intensifies your orgasm, your body going slack and eyes rolling back into your head. 

“Please daddy, need your cum, please, give it to me..” 

Javi’s groans catch your attention as you come down from your high, still reeling from the aftershocks when you feel his cock twitch inside you and paint your walls with his hot spend. Your words are strained and slurred, but they clearly get the job done. You shiver and press your ass back against him to meet his stuttery, sloppy thrusts, and bite your lip when you feel him tighten his grip on your hip, feel him land a final spank to your ass for good measure as he slows down. 

You keep your ass in the air, face still pressed against the mattress as Javi pulls out. You hear him mutter a few strained curses under his breath as he does, and catch him looking between your legs to see his spend obscenely leak out of your used hole. He reaches his fingers to rub against your messy folds and you whine, feel him gather up your juices and push them back inside your cunt in a way that has you almost cumming right there again. 

Your dress is still pooled at your waist and he unzips it entirely, sneaking his hands under your thighs and flipping you over and yanking you towards him. 

“You really want daddy’s babies?” Your head falls back against the bed when you feel his hand cup your cunt, rub your messy, swollen folds with the calloused tips of his fingers. You barely manage to nod. 

“Then I ain’t done with ya yet pretty girl.” You tilt your chin to catch his gaze, now in nothing but your stupid little wedding veil. You’re not sure about the best day of your life, but this sure as hell contends for one of the best nights. 

You can be my daddy tonight-night-night

I'm neon phosphorescent

Open like a Christmas present, oh

You can be my daddy tonight-night-night

If you're seeking heaven

Then you wanna come and get it alright

Be my daddy tonight

What's up what's up

What's up what's up

Be my daddy be my daddy

Be my daddy be my, be my daddy tonight

AHHHHH feel like I’m going to hell for this one. Thanks so much for reading!! Please please please let me know what you think. I’d love to know your thoughts!!! Thank you to everyone who engages with my work, you keep me writing!! 💗🐝

[lowrisemiller]

ᴠᴇʟᴠᴇᴛ ᴄʀᴏᴡʙᴀʀ

this one-shot is inspired by lana del rey’s unreleased song velvet crowbar

javier peña x DEA!fem!reader

javi gif from @perotovar divider by @uzmacchiato

you came to Colombia from New York with a badge, a mission, and no intention of getting attached. but months later when you’re scarred, restless, and unable to forget what you and javier peña went through—you’re not sure what’s left to hold onto. until one night, he shows up at her door, and nothing feels like duty anymore.

masterlist | 7.8k words | photos do not depict what reader looks like | mentions drugs, canon narcos talk, javi has a real bad drinkin problem, allusions of violence, reader gets kidnapped, slooowww burn, lots of javi pov!, smutty smut smut, he loves suckin on tits sue me, munch!javi duh, surprise surprise they hit it raw (DONT DO THAT), soft sex lots of I love you's, little bit of javi receiving head, & riding

I was addicted to you but I didn't know it .✦ You were afflicted by booze .✦ You didn't show it huh .✦ Life is a velvet crowbar Hitting you over the head .✦ You're bleeding but you want more .✦ "This is so like you," I said “Put yourself on back to bed.”

Bogotá smells like rain and grit, like wet stone and burnt coffee and something darker that never quite washes away. You step off the plane in the thick of the rainy season, boots hitting pavement slick with oil, and you already know the city will not be kind to you.

You’re DEA. Five years in New York. Undercover buys, dead drops, informants with trembling hands and blood under their nails. You were good at it, good enough to get noticed. Good enough to be transferred. Now you’re here, knee-deep in the worst war on drugs the agency’s ever seen, and they’ve dropped you into it like you’re a match in a powder keg.

They told you you’d be part of something bigger. That your experience was needed. What they didn’t say—what they didn’t need to say—was that you were walking into a man’s world. A dirty, blood-slicked one that doesn’t make room for women unless they’re bleeding, bruised, or biting back.

Not that you’re entirely surprised. You came from the Big Apple after all.

They talk over you at meetings. Call you mamacita under their breath. Smirk when you offer suggestions. You learn fast that respect isn’t given here. It’s taken.

So you take it.

You drag a cartel runner out of a brothel in the south side of the city, in the middle of the bustling street, cuff him with his pants around his ankles, and drive him back yourself with a cracked rib and half your blouse stained red. The next day, no one calls you sweetheart. They still don’t like you, but they know better.

The job is constant. Always moving. Surveillance, raids, interrogations, bullshit. Colombia eats agents alive. You see it in the eyes of the rookies, the twitchy ones. They come in wide-eyed and go home in body bags or not at all. You’re not sure which you’ll be yet.

You hear about Peña before you meet him. Always just out of frame, the center of every whispered rumor.

He’s the hotshot. The one who plays dirty, drinks harder than he sleeps, and somehow stays three steps ahead of Escobar’s men. Murphy says he’s bad news. Carrillo says he’s driven. Everyone else just says he’s dangerous—and not just to the people he’s chasing.

You try not to care. You’ve dealt with men like him before. Charisma surrounds him like smoke. Charm like a loaded gun. But the name lingers in your mind long after lights-out.

You see him for the first time at the embassy, late at night when the halls are empty and the fluorescent lights hum low overhead. He’s leaning against a doorframe, shirt wrinkled and stained with something too dark to be wine, tie hanging loose like a noose around his neck.

He looks at you like he already knows everything. You slow your steps, your gaze catching on the way his fingers twitch, like he’s halfway through lighting a cigarette that isn’t there.

“You’re the one from New York,” he says, voice low and rough around the edges.

You nod. “That’s me.”

He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t even blink. Just let his gaze drag across your face, down to the holster at your hip, then back up. “Welcome to hell, agent.”

And then he’s gone, footsteps fading down the corridor like smoke curling under a door.

You stand there a moment longer, heart thrumming in your throat, before turning away.

Later, when you finally sleep, you dream of velvet and blood and a man with whiskey eyes who looks at you like he’s already seen the ending.

The first time you’re assigned to work with Peña, it’s a stakeout.

No briefing. No welcome. Just a sharp knock on your door at 6:12 a.m., and when you open it, he’s standing there coffee in one hand, cigarette in the other, aviators hanging from the neckline of a sweat-damp shirt.

“Grab your shit,” he says. “We got a lead in Teusaquillo.”

You don’t ask questions. Not because you trust him—hell no—but because you’ve learned that here, time spent talking is time someone else uses to get away.

The ride’s quiet. Bogota unfolds around you in soft gray morning light, all crumbling walls and rust-stained rooftops. Peña doesn’t speak, doesn’t even look at you. He just drives with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on his thigh, a half-lit cigarette dangling from his fingers.

You steal glances. You can’t help it. He doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t blink. Doesn’t care that you’re studying him.

You’d call it arrogance if it didn’t feel so... hollow. There’s something hollow in him. Like the violence carved out everything else and left a man made of leftover smoke and sinew.

He parks two blocks from a mechanic’s shop with boarded-up windows and an upstairs flat rumored to belong to one of Escobar’s lieutenants. You settle in. Binoculars. Radio. Notebooks. The usual. But the air’s heavy. The kind of thick that presses behind your eyes.

Four hours pass in silence. Five.

You learn the way he fidgets when nothing’s happening: thumb tapping his thigh, tongue pressing against his back molars like he’s chewing on words he won’t say. Every so often, he scribbles something in a small notebook. Names, maybe. Codes. You can’t tell.

Around hour six, you finally speak. “You always this quiet?”

Peña doesn’t look at you. “You always this nosy?”

You let the silence return, but this time, it hums with heat.

It rains at noon. Of course it does.

You shift in your seat and ask if he wants coffee, stretching your arms out, cracking your back. He doesn’t answer right away. He just exhales slowly through his nose, watching the rain hit the windshield, before he finally says, low, “Only if it’s black.”

You bring him a lukewarm cup from the vendor down the street. When you hand it to him, his fingers brush yours for half a second.

It feels like someone flicked a live wire against your skin.

He must feel it too. For the first time that day, he looks at you. Really looks. And you see it: the wreckage behind his eyes. The wear and tear. The man running on fumes and sheer defiance.

You think, fleetingly. 

 My baby’s on his eighth life, darling.

The thought disturbs you.

The bust happens fast. A kid leaves the upstairs flat with a duffel bag and nervous hands. Peña’s out of the car before you process the door slamming shut. You’re right behind him.

It unravels into gunfire in under three minutes.

You drop to one knee behind the car as bullets crack overhead. Peña’s already returned fire, teeth bared, eyes bright. He moves like he’s dancing with death, like he’s done this so many times it’s boring now.

Someone’s screaming. Maybe it’s you. Maybe it’s the kid with the duffel. You don’t know. You just fire and move and breathe until the world stills.

Three bodies lie crumpled in the alley. None of them are yours.

When it’s over, you’re sweating and shaking. Adrenaline still rattles in your bones.

You turn to him. “You good?”

He lights another cigarette with a trembling hand, breathes in deep. Then he mutters, almost absently, “You’ll get used to it.”

You want to scream at him.

Get used to it?

To the blood, the stink of it, the way your hands still feel the shape of the trigger even when it’s over?

But you don’t.

Because part of you, a dark, unspoken, shameful one is already used to it. 

Maybe always was.

He walks off to talk to Carrillo. You stay behind, staring at the blood pooled in the gutter. Your hand still trembles as you try to light your own cigarette, but it slips between your fingers twice before you finally get it.

Peña doesn’t come back for you. He knows you’ll follow.

And you do.

That night, you can’t sleep.

You lie awake in your tiny apartment, sheets tangled around your legs, fan clattering in the corner. Your body’s sore. You smell like sweat and smoke and steel.

But it’s not the mission that keeps you awake.

It’s him.

His voice. The shake in his hands. The moment he looked at you like he saw every flaw and fracture and welcomed them. Like he wanted to press his fingers into your broken places and call it comfort.

You roll onto your side and stare at the wall.

You don’t want to want him. You really don’t. But already, it’s there. Rooting itself deep. Curling around your ribs like vines.

Javier Peña is a slow kind of ruin. And you—God help you—you’ve always been a sucker for a long fall.

It’s been four days since Peña showed up to work.

At first, no one blinked. He was known for disappearing—trailing informants or losing track of time in cartel dives but by day three, even Murphy was checking his watch more than usual. You tried not to care, tried to convince yourself that agents burn out all the time.

But when his informant turned up dead in the Zona Rosa and Peña didn’t answer his radio, something shifted.

Murphy looked up from his desk, jaw clenched. “Something’s wrong.”

He’s got one kid and another on the way. A wife who’s already half out the door. When another lead comes in at the last minute, he gives you the keys to the Ford Bronco and says, “Just check on him. Please.”

You don’t answer. You just drive.

His apartment’s in a building that’s seen better decades. Faded tile, dim hallway lights, a sour mildew smell that clings to the peeling walls. You knock once, wait, knock again—harder.

No answer.

You press your ear to the door and hear it. The dull clink of glass. The buzz of a radio left on some Spanish station, low and mournful. A body shifting against leather.

You don’t hesitate. You pick the lock and slip inside.

The place is dark, except for the gray-blue light spilling in through the window. A record’s spinning in the corner, half done. The couch is soaked. Not in blood—thank God—but in spilled bourbon and sweat. And there he is.

Javier.

Flat on his back, half-dressed, arm thrown over his face. There’s a bottle on the floor beside him and at least two more empty on the coffee table.

You stand there for a long moment, arms crossed, jaw tight. He doesn’t even stir.

Your voice cuts the quiet like a scalpel.

“This is your big plan, Peña? Drink yourself into a coma and hope Escobar turns himself in?”

He groans, low in his throat, like he’s just now dragging himself back to consciousness. Doesn’t open his eyes. Doesn’t move.

“Didn’t ask for a babysitter,” he mumbles, voice gravel-thick.

“No,” you snap, “you didn’t. But you stopped answering your radio. You missed the last two intel briefings. You didn’t even show up when Vargas walked.”

He shifts, turning his head toward the ceiling, one eye cracking open just enough to look annoyed. “Why do you care?”

That catches you. Harder than it should.

You don’t answer right away.

Because the truth—the real one, the one pressed up against your ribcage isn’t for him to know. That you do care. That you haven’t stopped thinking about him since that goddamn stakeout. That every part of this job makes you feel more numb, more wrecked, more like him.

You move closer, but not enough to seem gentle. You kick an empty bottle out of the way, hard enough to make it clatter against the wall.

“You don’t get to disappear, Peña. Not now. Not when people are counting on you.”

He laughs dry and mean. “People don’t count on me. They tolerate me.”

You crouch down in front of him, low enough that he has to look at you.

“Murphy’s worried. Carrillo wants you benched. And me? I walked into this apartment half expecting to find your rotting corpse.”

He flinches. Just barely. But you see it.

His voice is quieter now. “Then why the fuck are you still here?”

You pause. Let the air thicken between you. Then say, soft but sharp, “Because I didn’t want you to drink your own regrets alone.”

That lands.

His face tightens. The mask he wears that’s cool, untouchable, cynical slips, just for a second. Enough for you to see the exhaustion underneath. The guilt. The part of him that knows he’s falling apart and doesn’t care enough to stop it.

You stand again, dragging your gaze over the mess he’s let himself become.

“I’ll be back in an hour. If you’re still here when I return, I’m dragging your ass into a cold shower and then straight to Carrillo. You’ll wish you’d died when I found you.”

You walk to the door.

Just before you open it, he says your name.

Quiet. Hoarse. No apology in it. No plea.

Just your name, the way someone might say it in the dark to remind themselves they’re not alone.

You don’t look back.

You just say, “Sober up,” and leave the door open behind you.

It’s been a week since you found him in his own personal graveyard of booze and guilt. A week since he said your name like it was something sacred, then disappeared into silence.

He came back to work the next morning clean-shaven, wearing a shirt that didn’t smell like whiskey, hair combed and expression unreadable. Murphy gave him shit, Carrillo gave him orders, and you gave him nothing.

Not even a nod.

It wasn’t punishment, it was survival. Whatever passed between you in that apartment, it’s a crack in the wall neither of you knows how to patch. So you kept the silence and he respected it.

But he’s different now.

Not better. Not worse.

Just... watching.

You feel his eyes sometimes. When you walk past. When you speak in meetings. When you laugh, when you don’t. He’s not hitting on you he never did. It’s not sleazy or careless. It’s quiet. Careful. Like he’s waiting for something.

Like he’s still thinking about the fact that you didn’t look back.

You’re in the records room when he finally speaks to you again.

It’s late. The embassy’s mostly empty, the halls hushed. You’re surrounded by heat-stained files and the buzz of a dying fluorescent light. You’re tired, sweating under your blouse, hair tied back with a pencil you forgot to remove.

The door creaks behind you. You don’t need to turn around to know it’s him.

He doesn’t say your name this time.

“Didn’t think you were the type to stay late.”

You slide a folder back into its drawer. “Didn’t think you were the type to come back.”

He huffs something like a laugh, quiet and sharp. Then, softer, “Touché.”

You don’t face him. You just keep filing.

“You want something, Peña?”

“Just saw the light on,” he says, “and thought—”

You cut him off. “If you’re about to say something stupid like ‘thanks,’ don’t.”

Silence.

Then: “Wasn’t gonna.”

But he doesn’t leave. He steps into the room and leans against the metal cabinet nearest you, arms crossed. His shoulder brushes the edge of yours—just enough contact to feel it, not enough to call attention to.

“You ever wonder why we do this?” he asks after a beat. “Why we stay?”

You glance at him, frowning. “Because if we don’t, Escobar wins.”

“That’s the company line.” He meets your gaze now, his own unreadable. “I mean you. Why you stay.”

You should shut it down. Should tell him to get out and take his existential bullshit with him.

But instead, you say, “Because I’m good at it. Because it’s the only thing that makes me feel like I’m not wasting space. Because when it’s quiet, I start thinking about all the people I didn’t save.”

It’s too honest. It slips out raw.

You don’t meet his eyes again. You just move to the next drawer.

But Peña doesn’t flinch. He shifts closer. Not enough to crowd you—he never does—but enough for you to feel the warmth coming off him.

“I think about that night,” he says. “You kicking my bottle across the room like you wanted to kill me with it.”

You smile despite yourself. “I still might.”

“You could’ve reported me. Could’ve let Carrillo have my badge. Would’ve been easier.”

You close the drawer. Turn to him. “Would’ve been cowardly.”

His expression softens. Just barely. The hard angles of him blur under the soft buzz of the dying light.

“You scare me a little, you know that?” he says, voice low.

You blink. “That supposed to be a compliment?”

“It’s supposed to be the truth.”

You let the silence stretch this time. Let it sit.

There’s something simmering between you now. Not fire. Not yet. But heat. Potential.

He reaches past you, grabs a file he has no reason to touch, lets his fingers brush yours as he does.

This time, you don’t pull away.

And when you finally speak, your voice is quieter. Thicker. “This changes nothing.”

He nods once. Serious and firm. “I know.”

But he doesn’t move. Neither do you.

He can’t stop thinking about her hands.

That’s the thing. Not her mouth, not her ass—though God knows his brain’s tried to go there out of habit. But no. What keeps looping through his skull at night, in the dark, is the way her fingers looked pressed against his chest that night on the couch.

The callus on her trigger finger. The precise anger in her grip when she shoved the empty bottle away from him like it insulted her personally. The way her hand shook, just once, when she thought he couldn’t see.

It’s pathetic. He knows it. But he thinks about her hands when someone else’s are on him.

The woman in his bed tonight smells like coconut oil and cheap cigarettes. She’s some informant’s cousin—or maybe she said she worked at the bar in El Cartucho. Doesn’t matter. He doesn’t ask.

She moans his name like she means it, like she knows him.

She doesn’t.

He’s already halfway gone.

He rolls off her when it’s over and lights a cigarette he doesn’t want. She tries to cuddle. He gets up and shrugs his jeans back on, muttering something about early meetings. She doesn’t press. They never do.

By the time he’s back in his car, windows rolled down, sweat drying on his skin, he’s already thinking about her.

Not the woman he just fucked.

Her.

The one who hasn’t so much as smiled at him since she landed in Colombia. The one who walked into his filth-stained apartment and looked at him like he was still worth saving.

He’d rather be punched in the face.

He’s seen it happen to other men—DEA guys who get that wide-eyed thing about one of their own, fall into bed with someone who carries a badge and a temper, only to get left holding the guilt when the mission takes her out first.

Not him. He keeps his women outside the building, off the books, out of the way.

Except... Now he doesn’t want any of them. Not for more than a night.

And he doesn’t want her either.

He wants her gone. Out of his head. Out of his space. But every time she walks by—blouse clinging to her spine in the Bogotá heat, voice calm and sharp in meetings, he finds himself holding his breath.

And when she leaves the room, he has to exhale.

He watches her sometimes. He hates himself for it.

From the breakroom. From the side of a hallway. From the back row of a briefing.

She doesn’t even glance at him anymore. Not since the records room. Not since she looked him dead in the eye and said this changes nothing.

He believed her.

But it had. It changed everything.

He still flirts with the receptionist. Still lets his fingers linger when passing intel to the blonde who runs field logistics. Still makes some dumb comment when the ambassador’s wife brings lunch to the office.

But he never touches her.

Never jokes. Never asks if she’s free Friday. Never offers her a light for her cigarette when she’s outside, leaning on the brick wall like she’s holding the building up by herself.

Because she’s not like the others.

She’s the kind of woman who makes you want to quit drinking—not because she asks you to, but because you suddenly want to deserve to be seen by her again.

And that’s the most dangerous thing in the world.

He dreams about her sometimes. In the dreams, she never says a word. Just looks at him the way she did that night—tight-lipped, furious, afraid.

In the dreams, he always wakes up sweating. Alone.

Sometimes it’s the best part of his day.

He hangs on to all those little moments that occur during the day.  

Like when she passes him a manila folder one morning during briefing—fingers grazing his knuckles, just barely. He feels it like a fucking static shock. He doesn’t flinch, but it coils deep in his stomach.

Later, he’ll forget what the folder even said. But he won’t forget the brush of her hand.

Another day. It’s hot. She’s got her sleeves rolled to the elbows and a smear of dirt across her cheek from a bust in the jungle. He watches her gulp down lukewarm water from a dented thermos, her throat flexing, eyes closed.

He has to look away.

When he lights a cigarette, she asks for one. Doesn’t look at him when he hands it over. Doesn’t thank him, either.

Still, he holds that image like it means something.

He dreams of her in that records room.

Not naked. Not moaning his name.

Just standing there, arm crossed, and sweat on her brow.

He wakes up hard anyway.

She starts wearing her hair down. Probably not for him. But maybe.

He watches it stick to the back of her neck. He thinks about moving it aside. He thinks about kissing the skin underneath. He thinks about what she’d do. How she’d slap him, shove him against the wall, maybe kiss him right back.

He doesn’t do it.

A month passes like that. And then, everything breaks.

It’s supposed to be clean.

In and out. Intercept a delivery. Get the courier. Bring him in before breakfast.

They don’t even get a scream on the radio.

Just static.

Then Carrillo’s voice: “We’ve lost eyes on the second vehicle. Peña, respond.”

He’s already grabbing his vest before the words finish.

She was in that car.

The wreck is still smoking when he gets there. Blood on the ground, no bodies. Signs of a struggle. Boot prints. Drag marks. Her weapon on the gravel, clip half-ejected, as if she’d tried to reload mid-scramble.

He finds a smear of blood on the passenger door.

Too much to ignore. Not enough to prove she's gone.

He doesn’t wait for backup.

He doesn’t wait for anything.

He just starts hunting.

Three men die in an alley within the hour.

He doesn’t even ask the first one a question—just shoots him in the kneecap and watches the others panic. The second gives up a name. A warehouse. East end. Off the grid.

He doesn’t thank him.

He doesn’t feel anything.

The warehouse is rotting, windowless, stinking of rust and piss. He doesn’t go in there quietly.

The first two men barely have time to look up. The third draws a gun. Javier shoots him in the throat.

He’s breathing like an animal now. Can’t hear anything over the pulse in his skull. His blood feels radioactive.

Then he sees her.

Tied to a chair. Hands behind her back. Duct tape on her mouth. Blood crusted at her temple.

But she’s breathing.

And she’s looking right at him.

He moves like he’s underwater. Crosses the floor in seconds but it feels like years. Drops to his knees in front of her, pulling a knife from his belt.

Her eyes are wide. There’s no fear in them.

Just recognition. Relief. And something else.

Something fragile.

He cuts the tape from her mouth, and she gasps in air, voice ragged: “You came.”

He can’t speak. He just cups her face, thumbs brushing dried blood, trying to convince himself she’s whole. Her cheek presses into his palm like it’s the only thing holding her up.

“I thought—” she starts, then chokes on it.

He shakes his head. “No. Don’t.”

“I thought I’d never see you again.”

And now he’s the one breaking.

“I would’ve burned this whole city down,” he says, voice shaking. “I would’ve leveled it.”

She closes her eyes, leans forward until their foreheads touch. Her breath fans over his lips. “You didn’t have to come.”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

The others arrive twenty minutes later.

He doesn’t let go of her until the medics make him.

Even then, his hands hover—like he might need to grab her again. Like she might disappear.

She doesn’t.

She looks at him over her shoulder as they load her into the van. And for once, she does smile. A small one.

Not wide. Not flirtatious.

But real.

And it guts him.

He goes home that night, covered in blood—some hers, some theirs, some his.

Lights a cigarette.

He doesn’t sleep.

He doesn’t dream.

Just stares at the wall and thinks of the way she whispered You came, like he wasn’t the one who needed saving.

She didn’t mean to start thinking about him.

It wasn’t part of the plan. Bogotá was supposed to be all work. Just another station. Just another hunt. Get in, track Escobar, do the job.

She’d dealt with worse than this before—misogynists, cartel hits, bad coffee. She could’ve handled it.

But not him.

Not Javier Peña.

It started small. The cigarette passed between my fingers. The quick glances over briefing reports. The way his eyes found you across rooms he had no business being in.

At first, you thought he was just another man trying to get under your skin.

Then he stopped trying.

And it got worse.

Before the mission, you’d dreamed about him. Not even a sex dream. Just a quiet one. His shoulder against yours on a bench. His hand on your knee. The kind of domestic nothing you didn’t let yourself think about anymore.

You woke up unsettled. Then got in the SUV. Then got taken.

And the whole time you were being dragged through that hell, wrists zip-tied, head pounding, all you could think was: I’ll never see him again.

Not your parents. Not Murphy. Him.

It should’ve scared you more than it did.

Now it’s three days later, and your apartment feels like a jail cell.

You’re healing. Bruised ribs. Scrapes. Nothing major, nothing deep. The medic said you were lucky.

You don’t feel lucky.

Your hands still shake when you’re pouring water. Your dreams are full of gravel and duct tape. And behind all of it is him..

Not the version from the office. The version who found you.

Bloody. Breathless. Eyes like thunder.

When he said I would’ve leveled this city, you believed him.

And you haven't been able to shake the way he said I didn’t have a choice.

It’s almost dark when the knock comes.

You don't expect it to be him.

You open the door anyway, and there he is. Standing in the hall like something scraped raw. His jacket’s slung over one shoulder. His shirt’s wrinkled. He smells like smoke, sweat, and aftershave.

For a moment, neither of them speaks.

Then:

“I should’ve called,” he says, voice low.

You blinked. “You don’t call.”

His mouth twists at that—something between guilt and a smile.

“I wanted to see if you were okay.”

“You saw the report,” you say, stepping aside anyway.

“I didn’t believe it.”

You stand awkwardly in your living room, hands stuffed in his pockets like he doesn’t trust them. You’re in a pair of shorts and an oversized tee, hair damp from the shower, still smelling faintly of antiseptic.

“Did you come here to check on me,” you ask, “or because you needed to see it for yourself?”

He doesn’t answer right away.

Instead, he looks at you—really looks at you—for the first time since the warehouse. Eyes tracing your bruises like they’re war maps. Stopping at the butterfly bandage near your temple. The tenderness at your ribs.

Then he swallows hard.

“I needed to see you,” he says.

You sit on the edge of the couch. He doesn’t.

The silence stretches.

Then you say softly, “You killed six men looking for me.”

“Seven,” he says. “One of ‘em just didn’t die right away.”

Your throat tightens. “That supposed to make me feel better?”

“No,” he says. “It’s supposed to tell you I’d do it again.”

You finally meet his eyes.

And there it is.

That shift. The thing they’ve both been dancing around since day one. It’s not about sex. Not anymore. It’s about something bigger. Louder. More terrifying.

He cared.

And now they’re both stuck with that truth.

“You scared the shit out of me,” you say.

He nods. “Right back at you.”

“You shouldn’t have come alone.”

“I always come alone.”

You snorted. “Yeah, I know.”

He breathes out a laugh at that. Runs a hand through his hair.

Then: “Can I sit?”

You gesture to the space beside you.

When he sinks into the couch, the cushion shifts. Their knees touch.

It’s the first time they’ve been this close since that night in the records room. But it’s different now. Slower. Like every inch is charged with memory.

You turn toward him. “Why are you really here?”

He doesn’t blink. Doesn’t look away.

“I’ve been trying to forget about you,” he says.

Your breath catches.

“Thought if I slept around enough, drank enough, worked enough, I’d stop.”

You stay quiet.

“I can’t,” he says finally. “I can’t stop.”

Your voice is just above a whisper. “You respect me too much to flirt. But not enough to stay away.”

He closes his eyes for a beat. “That about sums it up.”

And then he leans forward, forearms on his knees, head in his hands.

“I fucked this up,” he mutters. “I let you get taken. I—”

You grab his wrist.

Not gently. Not softly. Just firm.

He looks up.

“You saved me.”

He searches your face like he’s not sure he’s allowed to believe you.

“I didn’t come out of that warehouse afraid of you,” you say. “I came out knowing exactly who I’d trust to come for me.”

Something in him breaks open then.

He doesn’t kiss you.

He doesn’t touch you.

He just leans in until their foreheads rest together in the quiet.

They stay like that. Breathing the same air.

And maybe that’s all they need right now.

He’s been to her apartment more times in the last three weeks than he has to his own.

At first, it was to check on her. Drop off meds. Bring her dinner when she wouldn’t remember to eat. Make sure she wasn’t trying to get back in the field too soon.

Then she started teasing him about it. Called him Nurse Peña. Said he should get her a little bell to ring when she needed things.

And somehow—somehow—he didn’t run.

She laughs more now.

Not a lot. Not like it’s easy. But it happens.

The first time she laughed at one of his stupid jokes, he almost dropped the coffee mug he was handing her. The sound startled him. It was warm. Unforced. Real.

He didn’t think he’d ever hear her laugh like that.

Didn’t think he’d deserve to.

There’s a new rhythm between them now.

She gives him shit about his taste in music. He tells her she grinds her teeth when she reads case files. They eat on her couch and sometimes fall asleep watching badly dubbed telenovelas with the volume low.

It’s not domestic. Not exactly.

But it’s the closest he’s had in years.

He flirts with her now.

Just a little.

She rolls her eyes every time. Calls him a menace. But she never tells him to stop.

He brings her a sandwich one night after a long debrief. She’s got her feet up on the coffee table, bandage finally off her temple, a yellow legal pad in her lap.

When he sets the sandwich down, she glances up. “Will you always feed me when I’m injured?”

“Nah,” he says. “Only when you look like you’re gonna forget to eat.”

“Oh, so now you care about my nutrition.”

“Wouldn’t want you to pass out mid-briefing. Then Murphy would cry and I’d have to console him.”

She snorts. “I’d pay to see that.”

He grins. “I’d charge you.”

She tosses a crumpled sticky note at him, and he dodges it like a pro. “So rude,” she says.

He shrugs. “You like me rude.”

And it’s there—again. That flicker.

She looks at him a second too long. Then shakes her head and opens the sandwich.

He watches her take a bite and pretends it doesn’t do anything to him.

He doesn’t fuck around anymore.

No informants. No girls at the bars.

He doesn’t have it in him. Not now. Not since every time he closes his eyes, he sees her in that warehouse chair and remembers how empty the world felt until she looked up at him.

She’s healing.

Not just the bruises. The rest of her. He can see it. In the way she stretches without wincing. The way she walks like she owns the floor again.

But there’s still a mark on her. Something permanent.

He knows. Because he’s got it too.

She catches him watching her one night, and instead of brushing it off, she asks softly, “What?”

He almost says I thought you were gone.

He almost says I haven’t slept properly since.

He almost says Don’t get hurt like that again. I don’t think I’d survive it.

Instead he says, “Just making sure you’re alive.”

She blinks. That’s all. Doesn’t make a joke. Doesn’t deflect.

She just says, “I am.”

And for the first time in weeks, he breathes like his lungs aren’t on fire.

She’s been cleared to return.

He knew it was coming. Could feel it in the way she moved it was less careful, more sure. The bruises had gone from purple to green to nothing. The bandages were long gone. Her eyes had that fire again.

But it hits him harder than he thought when she says the words.

“I’m cleared. Back in the field next week.”

He nods. Stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray on her windowsill. Says something like, that’s good, or you ready?

She doesn’t answer right away.

Just stands in the kitchen, twisting the ring of condensation on her glass of water. She’s in one of his old shirts again—says it’s softer than hers—and it’s hanging off her like it always belonged to her.

Then she says it, quiet, like a sin:

“I never wanted to get better.”

He freezes.

She keeps staring down at the glass like it’ll forgive her for saying it.

“Not really,” she murmurs. “I mean—I knew I couldn’t stay like that forever. I didn’t want to be helpless.”

“But?” he hears himself say, voice low, unsteady.

She finally looks at him.

“But if I got better… I figured you’d stop showing up.”

He could laugh. He could make a joke.

But nothing comes out.

Because something’s burning in his chest now ugly, raw, relentless, and it’s got nowhere to go.

He crosses the room without thinking. Leans on the counter across from her. Close enough to feel her breath.

“You think I only came because you were hurt?”

“No,” she says. “I think you only let yourself come because I was.”

That wrecks him.

Because it’s true.

He should say something else. He doesn’t.

Not for a full minute. Just lets the silence sit there between them, thick and humming like power lines in the heat.

She breaks it first, whisper-soft: “It’s been nice. Having you.”

And that’s it. That’s the moment.

That’s when the thing he’s been swallowing for weeks claws its way up his throat and refuses to die quiet.

“I love you.”

Her eyes widen.

She doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink.

He steps back, like it’ll soften the blow.

“Fuck,” he says under his breath. “I didn’t mean to—”

“You did.”

“Yeah,” he rasps. “Yeah, I did.”

She still doesn’t speak. Just walked closer to him. 

Stops in front of him.

And when she reaches out, he thinks she’s going to slap him or shove him or say something final.

Instead, her hand lands flat on his chest. Right over his heart.

Her voice is wrecked. “Say it again.”

“I love you.”

She closes her eyes. Like she needs it to settle. Like it hurts.

Then:

“I love you too.”

He doesn’t kiss her.

He could. He wants to—God, does he want to—but something tells him this isn’t about that. Not yet. Not tonight.

Instead, he pulls her in.

Arms around her. Her face against his neck. Her hand fisting in the back of his shirt.

He holds her like a man holding the thing he almost lost.

Like she’s air and blood and whatever’s left of his soul.

And she doesn’t pull away.

They stay like that for a long time.

No words. No next steps. Just the heat of skin against skin and the quiet promise: this is real now.

And when he finally leans back and presses his forehead to hers, he says, “You’re going back in the field. I can’t stop that.”

“I know.”

“But I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know that too.”

And somehow, that’s everything.

And when she pulls back enough to meet his eyes, her voice is barely there. “Stay tonight?”

He nods. Doesn’t even pretend to play it cool.

“I was already going to.”

He didn’t mean to fall asleep. But her body was warm beside him, curled into the crook of his arm, wearing his shirt and nothing else. And for the first time in years, his chest didn’t feel tight. For the first time ever, he wasn’t running.

So he let go. Just for a moment.

And when he wakes—it’s to her fingers tracing his chest, lazy and slow.

“Javi,” she whispers.

He blinks, meets her gaze in the low light. Her voice is hushed, but her eyes are wide awake. Wanting.

“I don’t want to wait anymore.”

She’s over him before he can speak, thighs slipping around his waist, mouth already on his.

And it’s soft at first. Like every kiss they almost shared. Like every moment that made him ache.

He wraps his arms around her waist, palms splaying across her bare back. She’s not wearing panties. Just his shirt, hitched up around her thighs.

And she smells like sleep, vanilla, and him.

“Baby,” he breathes against her lips. “You sure?”

“I’ve been sure,” she says. “Since the first time you bled on my floor and tried to leave without saying thank you.”

He huffs a laugh. And then he kisses her like he’s starving.

She peels the shirt off slowly. Her nipples are already hard, pebbled from the air and his gaze. He sits up, chest to chest, and buries his mouth between them.

“I dreamed about this,” he murmurs against her skin. “Fucking dreamed about your tits in my mouth.”

Her fingers tangle in his hair, tugging gently as he suckles at her breast, teasing the other with his thumb. She gasps when he scrapes his teeth lightly across her nipple, then soothes it with his tongue.

“I’m gonna take my time,” he says, looking up at her. “You deserve that.”

She lies back when he pushes gently at her waist, guiding her onto the sheets.

And he gets between her legs like it’s the only place he’s ever belonged.

Her thighs fall open for him without hesitation. And she’s soaked—slick and glistening, flushed with heat and arousal. He doesn’t touch her right away. Just presses a kiss to the inside of her knee, then higher, then higher—

“Javi—”

“I’ve waited too long for this,” he whispers, breathing hot over her folds. “I’m gonna taste you, baby.”

And he does.

Tongue dragging slow through her heat, lips wrapping around her clit like a kiss. She cries out—his name on her lips like a plea. He groans into her, drunk on her, grinding his hips into the mattress as he eats her like a man half his age.

She fists the sheets. Her back arches. He flattens his tongue and devours, letting her ride his mouth, letting her fuck herself on his face.

“You taste so sweet,” he groans. “Fuck, I could live here. Come for me, cariño. Give it to me.”

She does—with a sob, legs trembling, body shaking against his tongue.

And he doesn’t stop until she begs.

He’s on her before she can catch her breath. Mouth bruising hers, hand stroking his cock between them.

“Condom’s in my wallet,” he says roughly.

“No,” she gasps, wrapping her legs around his waist. “I want you. All of you.”

He nearly comes right then.

He pushes into her slow. So slow. They both groan—hers high and broken, his deep and reverent.

“Jesus, you’re tight,” he pants. “So fucking perfect. You’re gonna ruin me.”

Their foreheads press together. Hands clutch. Bodies lock.

He moves like he’s worshipping her—like she’s holy and he’s been faithless his whole life.

And she moans every time he bottoms out. Whimpers when he pulls out nearly to the tip and slides back in, thick and hard and home.

“I love you,” she whispers. “I love you so much.”

He chokes on his own breath.

“I’ve never—never loved anyone like this,” he gasps. “Fuck, baby. You own me.”

They come together, trembling and breathless, clinging like the world might end if they let go.

She’s grinning.

“What?” he asks, brushing her hair back.

“I’m not broken anymore.”

And then she flips them.

Her mouth is on his neck before he can blink. Her nails drag down his chest. She slides down, wraps her lips around his cock, and moans.

“Holy fuck—” he gasps, gripping the sheets.

She sucks him deep, slow at first—then faster, wetter, until he’s bucking up into her mouth.

But before he can come, she stops.

Straddles him.

Guides him back inside.

And rides him hard.

Her hands on his chest, hips slamming down, tits bouncing, his name falling from her lips like a threat and a promise.

He grabs her ass, helps her grind deeper.

“You wanted rough, baby?” he groans. “Wanted me to fuck you like I’ve been dreaming about every goddamn night?”

“Yes—yes, Javi—fuck me—”

He flips her, fucks into her hard and fast, hair fisted in his hand, her face buried in the pillow.

“You’re mine now,” he growls. “You hear me? Mine.”

She screams when she comes. Screams.

He spills into her moments later, biting her shoulder, whispering I love you again and again and again.

They fall asleep like that.

Skin to skin. Heart to heart. No lies. No walls.

Just them.

Finally.

divider by 🏷️ @zevrra @xodilfluvr @littlejoels @millersdoll @gothcsz @inbred-eater @grayandthyme @mysticalgalaxysalad @amyispxnk @aj0elap0l0gist @bluekat707 @yellowbrickyeti @romancherry @wayward-dreamer @xfanficluvrx @mystickittytaco @axshadows

[wayward-dreamer]

Say You Love Me

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Secretary!Reader

Word count: 6k

Summary: You and Javi work together and have been secretly dating for months. When he gets a lead on the Cali Cartel and has to leave for several days, a late night phone call has to be the only thing to keep both of you satisfied until he returns.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, swearing, secret relationship, flirting, making out, uniform kink, Javi in the DEA jacket (that's it's own warning), smut: implied p in v sex, dirty talk, phone sex, nipple play, mutual masturbation, Javi jerks it while reader flicks it, hints of Javi's breeding kink, English/Spanish terms of endearment (baby, sweetheart, cariño, hermosa, querida), fluff, Javi's a loverboy he really is, romance. Reader described with female anatomy, no use of y/n. Set during S3, canon divergent.

A/N: This was written for @mushgloomz PPCU Smut Writing Challenge. I got Javi, romantic, uniform and phone/video sex as prompts, so here we go. Title is a song by Fleetwood Mac. Hope y'all enjoy it, happy reading! :) Unbeta'd. Also thanks to @nicolethered for sourcing the Javi pic!

Main Masterlist | Pedro Pascal Characters Masterlist

“We shouldn’t be doing this here…”

“No one’s gonna hear us, cariño.”

Javi pressed his lips to yours in a searing kiss, his wandering hands groping the curve of your ass over the black pencil skirt you were wearing. The file room of the department wasn’t an ideal place to be making out with your fellow employee, a place where anyone could walk in, but you had trusted him to lock the door behind him before he had you pinned against the back wall, hidden by shelves of boxes. Your only fear now was that someone heard you, because if there’s one thing you had learnt very quickly, it was that he knew how to make you scream.

“They could,” you mumbled against his lips.

His mouth moved along your jaw, nipping at your skin and drifting down to your neck. “They’re only going to hear us if you-”

A sharp cry escaped your lips as he sucked at your pulse point, his hand coming up over your mouth as he chuckled mischievously against your throat. He pulled back slightly, grinning as he looked down at you and saw you glaring up at him. He pulled his hand away, softly pecking your lips once, twice.

“Sorry,” he smirked. “Couldn’t resist.”

“Fuck you, Peña,” you snapped.

“I’m counting on it, baby.”

He guffawed as you rolled your eyes, but you both knew that you weren’t really angry. You pushed him away gently as you feigned annoyance, just another part of the foreplay between you. Fixing the buttons on your blouse, you kept your gaze on him as you adjusted your clothes to make sure it didn’t look like you were just making out with one of your superiors. The last thing you needed were people talking about the ambassador’s secretary messing around with one of his trusted DEA agents.

“You’re going to be late for the meeting,” you reminded him.

“Am I going to see you there?” he asked, his hands resting on your shoulders.

“I could slip in to drop a fax in front of Crosby, if you wanted me to,” you replied, already contemplating it.

“Wouldn’t mind having something nice to look at,” he added, glancing down at your cleavage with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes, playfully. “I’ll see what I can do.”

You cupped his strong jaw in your hand as you admired his features, pushing up on your toes slightly to kiss him once more, before he reluctantly stepped away from you. Your eyes wandered down his frame and took in the salmon pink shirt he was wearing with dark blue jeans, a dreamy sigh escaping you as he turned and you saw the way the denim accentuated his pert ass and thighs. You leaned back against the wall as he gave you one last look, opening the door to the archive room and stepping out into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind him. He always left before you wherever you were meeting in secret, you giving him a few minutes headstart before you followed in his footsteps.

It had been a few months since the both of you had started hooking up. It all began with you putting in a good word for him with Crosby when he arrived late to work, the excuse being that he had a flat tire. He told you he owed you one and when you asked him specifically what was in it for you, he took you out for a drink after work. That drink turned into coffee and a cigarette outside the building during your lunch break the next day, and later that night when everyone but you had gone home, it turned into him bending you over your desk and ruining you for any other man moving forward. After that night, it was empty offices or secluded corners away from wandering eyes and prying ears, and even his apartment when you both needed that blissful release without holding back.

It was those nights at his apartment that gave you the hope that this thing between you was more than sex. The way Javi touched you in the comfort of his own space was completely different to the way he touched in those secret moments. It was less “desperate to have you before you were caught” and more “desperate to see you fall apart no matter how long it takes”. He quickly discovered it didn’t take long at all. You could see it every time he looked at you that there was something more between you, but there were days that your doubts crept in and fear reared its ugly head. You knew how you felt about him, and no matter how he showed he cared for you, called you sweet names, performed sweet gestures… you still weren’t entirely sure he felt the same way about you.

You weren’t a fool. You knew his reputation in the office, from the way the women talked about him and the way the men either praised him or disparaged him, which really depended on who had gotten on Javi’s bad side or not. He had never said more to you than he’d “made a lot of mistakes” and that he’d “been around the block a few times”, and you had been privy to his exploits in and out of the office from some of the other gossiping secretaries. You had no doubt that one or two of them were talking about themselves too, but none of that mattered to you. That was all before you had even met him, and you believed that he was being honest with you.

You really liked him. Hell, you were in love with him. Between the frenzied quickies during work hours, and the slower, passionate exchange between his sheets, there were tender moments that only you had witnessed. Him buying you a toothbrush to use when you stayed over, making coffee and pecking your lips before handing you the cup every single time, kissing the nape of your neck whenever he passed by you, lightly playing with your hair whenever you laid your head on his chest. Him reading snippets from the paper to you on a lazy Sunday morning, holding your hand as you walked side by side enjoying the late afternoon breeze, admiring the way the sun set just right over the city. It was in those moments that you felt the weight of your feelings for him, and he was the anchor that pinned you down and steadied you.

As you made your way out of the file room and down the hallway, you smiled at a few coworkers before you returned to your desk. You hunched over and flicked through the papers that were kept on the surface, picking up the page you were looking for. You walked down the opposite end of the hallway, softly opening the door to the conference room and closing it behind you. Walking over to the head of the table, you briefly made eye contact with Javi, the move going unnoticed by all the other agents at the table as they just blatantly gawked at you instead. He leaned back in his chair, his elbow leaning on the arm of it as he rubbed his fingers over his chin, watching you closely as you placed the fax down in front of Crosby. He thanked you and you turned on your heel, smiling to yourself as you felt the intensity of Javi’s gaze on you as you left the room.

A little while later, you were completely entrenched in your work when he passed by your desk in a flash, dropping a folded piece of paper right in front of your eyesight. You frowned as you lifted your head, watching his form retreat down the hallway and disappear around the corner, but not before catching a glimpse of him in the navy blue DEA jacket. That was your favorite piece of clothing on him, and for whatever reason, it never ceased to drive you crazy whenever he wore it. You both never complained about what would ensue after every time he’s worn it around you.

You opened the folded note, your eyes scanning over the words before you scrunched up the paper and threw it in the small trash can under your desk. You stood up and walked down the hall, your heels clacking against the linoleum floors as you made your way outside the building. As per his instructions, you meet him in your usual place, behind the building and away from security cameras. He was leaning back against the wall, his left knee bent and the bottom of his shoe also pressed against the brick. He stood up straight as you approached, pulling the cigarette away from his lips and blowing out the smoke, his eyebrows furrowed as you stood in front of him.

“You know what this jacket does to me,” you whispered, grabbing the lapels and pulling him a little closer as you stared up into his eyes. “I don’t think we have enough time for me to show you, though.”

He smirked at the implications of your words, but it didn’t last long as he pursed his lips in thought. “I wish that was what I was calling you out here for, cariño.”

You leaned back, instantly knowing it was serious. “What’s going on, Javi?”

“I have to leave for Cali tomorrow morning,” he sighed heavily, throwing his cigarette on the ground and stubbing it out with the toe of his boot. “Early. Crosby wants me and some of the guys to follow some intel on Orejuela.”

“For how long?” you asked, frowning.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and dragged you in closer to him, shrugging his shoulders. “However long it takes. Probably a week or two, if we’re lucky and it’s not bad intel.”

A week or two. That would be the longest period of time the two of you would be apart since you started seeing each other. You didn’t need to say anything for him to realize that same fact, his brown eyes gazing into yours as you nodded slowly, processing what he just told you.

“It seems like a lot, but I’ll be back before you know it, baby,” he promised.

A sad smile pulled at the corners of your lips, your right forefinger tracing over the yellow lettering on his jacket. “Just be careful out there.”

A soft huff escaped him as he smirked, curling a finger under your chin and lifting it so your eyes met his again. “Always am, hermosa.”

Javi leaned down and kissed you softly, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pressed yourself further into him. The embrace deepened, but rather than it being frenzied or sensual, there was something more there. Something deeper and stronger than either of you had ever felt before. It had happened once, maybe. One night in particular, which had no major significance other than it being the first time you felt there was more to this relationship between you. You felt it that night, and you felt it right there in that moment with him, concealed from the rest of the building and your nosey coworkers.

All you could hope for was his safe return back home, because you didn’t want to live another minute without feeling that way again.

A whole week had passed before you heard from Javi.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. You would call him and get no answer on his satellite phone or leave a voicemail on the hotel room one. He would try to respond but you had always been in bed by then and he would never want to disturb you, or you would be at work. You missed him more than you thought you would, with work not being enough of a distraction from the worry that wracked your whole body whenever he didn’t pick up. It was the worst feeling in the world and you prayed that you would get the reassurance that everything was fine soon.

A boring Wednesday night would be your unlikely salvation, as you occupied your time and distracted yourself from the knot in your stomach with menial tasks like doing the laundry. You sat at the edge of your bed, a pile of fresh and dried clothes on top of the covers in front you that you worked at folding mindlessly. Your favorite Fleetwood Mac record was playing softly in the background, your light humming the only other sound in the room.

Suddenly, the obnoxiously loud ring of the telephone on the nightstand made you jump out of your skin with a small squeak from your lips. You placed a hand over your heart as you calmed yourself down, before you reached over and picked up the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Hey, baby.”

“Javi!” you exclaimed, beaming widely.

“Fuck, it’s so good to hear your voice, cariño,” he breathed.

“Yours too,” you whispered, closing your eyes in relief. “I’ve been so scared, I-”

“I’m okay, querida,” he reassured you. “Don’t you worry about me.”

“It’s hard not to when you’re so far away from me,” you admitted, softly.

Javi sighed as he heard the waver in your voice as you spoke to him. He knew the best thing to do would be to not focus on the fear, so he didn’t.

“So, what’s your Wednesday night looking like?” he asked, changing the subject.

You knew what he was doing and honestly you were thankful for it. “Folding laundry. Sexy, right?”

“Very,” he replied, his voice low and husky.

You felt a shiver run down your back as you put down the shirt you were folding, holding the receiver tightly as you laid back against the pillows. A soft smile pulled at your lips as you heard the familiar click of Javi’s lighter, before you heard a faint puff of air.

“I miss you,” you murmured.

“Me too, cariño. You wouldn’t be leaving that room any time soon if I was there,” he stated, throwing his legs up on the coffee table as he leaned back on the sofa.

“Javi,” you giggled, shaking your head as you twirled the cord around with your finger. “You can’t say things like that to me when you’re not here.”

He smirked. “Why?”

“Well… because…” you trailed off, sighing as you thought against what you wanted to say.

“Because what, hermosa?” he asked, taking a drag from the cigarette between his fingers.

“Because,” you gulped, letting out a shuddered breath. “You can’t do anything about it.”

He chuckled softly, the sound teasing and almost sinister. “Who says I can’t?”

“I don’t-” you started but you heard him clear his throat and allowed him to continue.

“What’re you wearing?”

You gasped, your eyes widening slightly. You glanced down, looking at the khaki t-shirt of his that you had stolen, your legs bare as you only wore black lace panties underneath. You knew exactly where this was going to lead if you told him what you had on, and that sent a small current of arousal through you, spreading to every nerve in your body. You heard him suck in a breath as you mentioned your state of dress, and bit down on your lip. It turned you on that he was so turned on by you.

“What are you wearing?” you asked in return, hoping for the answer to be your favorite piece of clothing on him.

He chuckled, looking down at the DEA jacket he was in fact wearing. “You’re obsessed, querida.”

“Can’t help it,” you shrugged, smiling. “It’s really sexy.”

“Pretty sure that’s you,” he countered.

You hummed as a smile tugged at your lips, loving the way he could go from sensual to sensitive within a few seconds. It was statements like that which gave you the hope that he wanted more with you, too. You knew he cared for you, you could see it in his eyes and feel it in his touch every single day, but did he feel more than that? That was the only doubt you had about the two of you.

“Touch yourself, cariño,” he instructed, slowly unbuckling his belt. “Over the shirt, don’t even think about sliding that hand between your legs, not yet.”

“Javi,” you whined, softly.

“You’re going to listen to what I say, hermosa,” he warned. “Right?”

“Yeah” you said, nodding.

“Good,” he muttered, putting his cigarette out in the ashtray next to him before he unzipped his jeans. “Want you to use your hands and imagine they’re mine.”

Your hand grazed over the curve of your breast, the fabric catching over your nipples and causing a small moan to escape you. As much as you wanted to, you resisted letting your other hand move down between your thighs until Javi said that you could. You cupped the left, your thumb flicking over the hardened bud over the material, a whimper leaving you as you squeezed your legs together.

“Moaning for me already, huh?” he asked, smirking. He dropped a string of his saliva into his hand, slipping it into his boxers and took out of his cock, pumping slowly.

“Yes,” you whispered, closing your eyes as you licked your lips. “I wish you were here.”

“Fuck, me too, hermosa,” he groaned, moving his hand a little faster to work up the blood flow. “I’d have you up against the wall as soon as you open the fucking door.”

You hummed, groping yourself a little harder. “Javi, please. I want-”

“I know what you want, baby,” he interjected, slowing his movement down slightly. “Just a little longer. Squeeze those gorgeous tits of yours for me, want you to pull your shirt up and pinch your nipples…”

You shifted on the bed and arched your back, reaching down to pull your shirt up and expose your nipples to the cool breeze coming in from the open window. Your fingers skimmed over your warm skin and over your left breast, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you rolled the nipple between your thumb and forefinger. Your sigh turned into a wanton moan as you gripped the phone receiver tighter.

“You sound so beautiful, cariño,” he breathed, his gaze falling down to his hand as he began to pump a little harder again. “You’re already making me so hard, it’s ridiculous.”

“Javi,” you moaned, biting your lip to keep control of yourself. “Tell me, tell me what you’d do, please.”

His eyes squeezed shut as he heard the desperation in your voice, and he knew he needed to slow things down before it was over before it really even began. “Fuck, hermosa, I’d… kiss your breasts and lick your nipples. I’d roll them between my fingers to get them hard, like you are right now.”

“M-More,” you gasped. You could feel your arousal growing between your legs, just from your ministrations and his voice.

“I’d love to see you right now. See you teasing yourself, see your hand move down your beautiful body to your pussy…” he trailed off, hoping you understood your next instruction, his own pleasure building as he stroked himself.

You breathed deep, your hand skimming over your stomach and down to your panties, pushing them down your thighs. You wiggled slightly to get them past your knees before kicking them off and letting your hand slide between your thighs. Your fingers moved over your mound, dipping in between your folds, feeling the wetness there.

“Javi,” you moaned, softly. “I’m…”

Javi felt the way his cock twitched as he heard you say his name. It always drove him absolutely crazy the way it fell from your lips, and he wished more than anything that he could see you in that moment. 

“You what, cariño? Talk to me.” His voice was low and gravelly, turning you on even more.

“I’m so wet,” you gasped.

“Fuck,” he breathed out. “So wet just for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, only you, Javi,” you whimpered.

“Good girl,” he complimented. “Rub your clit, baby…”

Your fingers continued to run through your folds before they drifted up, moving over your clit in slow, teasing circles. A sharp breath escaped you as you felt a pleasured sensation radiate through your whole body, feeling it from the tips of your toes right to your head. Javi smirked as you heard you, trying to imagine you on the bed as he talked to you. He groaned as he worked his hand over his dick, a little faster and firmer, just the way you always did with him.

“Keep touching yourself for me, gorgeous. Move those fingers inside you. Tell me how it feels” he ordered.

You moved your fingers to your entrance, inserting one first, your walls contracting around the intrusion to allow another, pumping them in and out. You rubbed the pads of your fingers against the slick surface, moaning as the pleasure pulsed through you. You were about to lose yourself in it all, completely overwhelmed by the bliss you were feeling in that moment until you heard a faint grunt from him, the buckle of his belt clinking slightly.

“It feels so good. I… I wish they were your fingers inside me,” you moaned loudly, writhing on the bed.

“Me too, hermosa. Imagine it’s my fingers fucking you, making you feel so good,” he said, closing his eyes, imagining it himself.

“You’re touching yourself, too aren’t you, baby?” you asked, biting her lip.

“Yeah,” he groaned, continuing to fist his hard length.

“I bet you wish it was my hand, don’t you?” you added.

“Fuck, yeah I do, querida. Wish it was, fuck, wish it was your tight little pussy wrapped around my cock, squeezing around me as you take me in,” he grunted, gripping himself a little tighter.

You slid your fingers back and forth, the wet squelch of your pussy reaching your ear and making you work them inside a little faster, knowing you weren’t going to last much longer.

“Oh, Javi,” you shrieked. “Oh fuck, you’d feel so good inside me… filling me up, making me feel so full.”

Javi threw his head back, hitting the back of the couch as his jaw clenched hearing your words. If only you knew how they affected him to the point of wanting to do exactly that, to fill you up, make you feel full. He knew he had to hold back on that revelation, though, for now at least. His hand picked up the pace, chasing the impending release. He knew you were close too, judging by how loud you were getting, which was just another thing he liked about you. If you were in a state of complete bliss, you made it known at the highest decibel possible.

“You’re close, aren’t you, querida?” he panted, squeezing his eyes shut. “I can hear it in your voice, fuck, I wanna hear you cum for me.”

“Yes, oh fuck, yes I’m so close,” you whimpered, arching your back as you sank your fingers deeper into your core. “Make me cum, Javi, please.”

“You sound so fucking beautiful, fucking yourself on your fingers,” he growled. “You’re gonna cum with me, hermosa. Wanna hear you scream my name when you soak your fingers.”

Your thumb moved over your clit, circling the bundle of nerves as you continued to thrust your fingers in and out of your wet heat, causing a string of high pitched moans to leave your lips. At that point, you didn’t care if your neighbors heard you, you didn’t care if they thought you were possibly being murdered inside your tiny apartment, you only cared about him. You only cared about the way he was making you feel, even from hundreds of miles away.

“Javi, oh my god! I-I’m gonna cum,” you shrieked, overwhelmed by what you were feeling.

“Do it, sweetheart. Make yourself cum on your fingers. Make yourself cum for me,” he groaned.

Your eyes shut tightly as you tossed your head to the side, the receiver falling from your hand as your fingers moved faster, harder until it finally became too much to bear. You let out a string of loud, rasping moans that mixed with pleasured calls of his name as the dam broke, your arousal coating your fingers as waves of euphoria crashed over you. Javi pumped his fist rapidly, your voice laced with pure ecstasy being his undoing even from over the phone, as he tightened his grip slightly and grunted your name one last time before he felt spurts of his seed cover his hand and exposed skin of his pelvis.

You both breathed heavily, hearing each other come down from your high over the phone. Javi smirked, chuckling to himself. You really were something to get him so worked up just from this, but it only made him miss you more. He took several deep breaths before he called your name, amused by your little hum and lack of any other response. You had melted into the sheets, completely blissed out as you shared up at the ceiling. Your hand fumbled over the covers and picked up the phone again, biting your lip as you tried to find the words.

He grinned, still hearing your heavy exhales. “You okay over there, cariño?”

“That… was…” You paused, gulping as you caught your breath. You giggled lightly, shaking your head. You had no words.

“That was fucking hot,” he stated, as he reached for tissues to clean himself up.

You hummed, still running your fingers over your folds, slowly. “Yeah, it was.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, a cocky grin on his face.

You laughed, shaking her head. “I’ve… I’ve never done that before. Over the phone, I mean.”

“Coulda fooled me, hermosa,” he smirked. He needed to stop thinking about it, knowing it would get him hard all over again.

“I guess when it comes to you… I just feel-” you shrugged, struggling to find the words to tell him what he made you feel.

You rolled onto your side, the phone receiver resting between your face and the pillow. You knew what you wanted to say, but it worried you to think he might not feel the same way and scare him off. So you said the next best thing, that was equally true.

“I feel safe with you, Javi.”

Javi zipped up his jeans before he sat up, placing his feet back on the floor. His heart thumped rapidly in his chest as his fist tightened around the phone. His jaw clenched as he felt his words cut through him in an unexpected way. He had always considered his job a way of keeping people safe, that if you put away the bad guys then that’s what you were doing - protecting people. In the last few years, however, he felt there was a disillusionment that had started to set in. He had realized that no matter what he did, no matter how many assholes he put away, there was always going to be someone else to take the helm, another cartel to add to the drug war. So lately, he felt like he couldn’t keep anyone safe as Agent Javier Peña.

But you weren’t talking about Agent Peña. You were talking about Javi. Regular Javi was who you felt safe with. Regular Javi, from Laredo, Texas with an aging father waiting for him to come home for good. A place he hoped to bring you back to someday soon. It was funny how much he had wanted to leave that place as a younger man, and now with you in his life, he couldn’t wait to return.

“I’ll always keep you safe, querida,” he promised, his voice a low husk. “Always.”

His life had always been full of fear, loss, heartache. It was only when he met you that he found out there was so much more to experience, so much more to look forward to. You brought a light into the darkness he had become too accustomed to, and had given him the same kind of safety he had promised you. He had no need to fear who he was and what he was capable of anymore, because you believed he was better than that.

You made him want to be a better man.

You felt butterflies in your stomach as your heart swelled with unbridled joy for the first time in a long time as his words sunk in. You didn’t need anything else from him at that moment, because you knew whatever was next in your relationship would happen eventually, when you were both ready for it.

“I’ll see you soon,” you said, a hopeful lilt in your tone.

“Yeah,” he breathed, a small smile pulling at his lips. “Sweet dreams, baby.”

“Goodnight, handsome.”

By the time Saturday rolled around, you were completely exhausted from work but in better spirits after your little call with Javi on Wednesday. As much as you missed him, and you did terribly, you continued to distract yourself with your normal, mundane routine which had proved to be a good idea. You had made a list of groceries and gone to the store, ready to cook up a storm because it wasn’t often you got to do something more elaborate rather than quick and easy.

As the late afternoon sun set over Bogotá, you pulled your car into the parking lot of your apartment complex and retrieved the two brown bags from the backseat. Taking the stairs up to the entrance, you smiled as one of your neighbors recognized you as they came out, holding the door open for you. You made your way up two flights, huffing slightly as you got to your floor and walked to your door. Placing one of the bags down on the floor, you reached into your purse to find your keys, only for the door to suddenly open and make your heart leap out of your chest.

“Hey, baby.”

You clutched a hand over your chest to calm yourself as your eyes widened, seeing Javi standing in front of you, leaning against the door frame. He was wearing that navy blue shirt that you loved on him, tucked into his signature blue jeans. You beamed at him as he took the bags from you, smirking as he put them down near the door and instantly pulled you into his arms, pressing a searing kiss to your lips. Your arms wrapped around his neck as his slipped around your waist, giggling as his mustache tickled under your nose. Pulling away slightly, he pecked your lips a few times before he looked deep into your eyes.

“What’re you doing here?” you asked, incredulously. “I thought you were going to be gone for another week.”

“Well, the intel turned out to be a bust, so I came home early,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders as he linked his hands over the slope of your back.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you sighed, lightly stroking his hair at the back of his head.

He shook his head, pulling you in closer. “We’ll get them. I can feel we’re close.”

You nodded, slowly as you leaned in and pressed your lips to his softly. “How did you get in here anyway?”

“Didn’t take long to convince your landlords of who I was,” he explained, chuckling lightly. “They let me in.”

“Mrs. Alvarez has been trying to set me up with men for years, so she’s probably just really happy I met someone,” you quipped.

He rolled his eyes playfully as he walked you backwards, pressing you up against the wall. You stared up at him, biting your lip as his hands slid under the hem of your t-shirt causing you to shiver from his touch. He bent down, teasing your lips with his, slowly drifting down and nipping along the length of your neck.

“Javi,” you choked out, laughing slightly. “What’re you-”

“Told you I’d have you up against the wall as soon as I got home,” he recalled.

“But I have groceries,” you countered, glancing down at the bags. “I wanna cook for you now.”

He shook his head, leaning his forehead against yours. “You can do that tomorrow if you want, but right now I’ve got a week of being away to make up for.”

You bit back a moan as you held his gaze, letting him lead you through your apartment. He pressed you up against the doorframe of your room, your lips locked in a rough, passionate exchange as your hands tugged at his shirt to pull him as close as possible. A wanton moan escaped you as his mouth moved down to your neck, leaving love bites along your skin.

“Might not be that easy,” you muttered into his ear. “I think you need to woo me first.”

He stopped his ministrations, gazing up at you with that delectable smirk of his. “Oh, I already got plans for that, cariño.”

He tipped his chin towards the small, round dining table over your shoulder which caused you to glance behind. You spotted the bottle wine, two wine glasses and a candle waiting to be lit on the surface, making you smile brightly as you turned back to him.

“We can order from that place you like down the street so I don’t kill you with my cooking,” he jested, pulling back a little to look at you properly. “And uh… there’s something I need to say which I couldn’t over the phone. Just felt too important.”

You frowned, feeling your heart beating rapidly. “What is it?”

“I love you.”

The words fell out of his perfect lips as simply as breathing. You felt tears well up and blur your sight as you gazed at him, breathing deeply as you let those words sink in. Even the way he looked at you, brown eyes filled with the sincerity of his confession, made you realize that there was never any reason to doubt how he felt about you. It had always been there under the surface, waiting to breach the barrier of fear that came with his job.

He took your hands in his and leaned down, kissing your knuckles before leading you over to the table. He picked up the corkscrew, twisting it to open the bottle, winking at you as it popped and making you giggle. He poured the wine into two glasses before handing you one, clinking his glass against yours before he took a sip. You didn’t, looking at him and taking in his every move. He noticed you staring, a smirk playing at his lips as he put his glass down.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, your eyes never leaving his.

You beamed as you finally pressed the rim of the glass to your lips, your sight landing on something hanging over one of the dining chairs. Your eyes focused over the glass on the yellow letters against the dark blue fabric, feeling a heat take over your body that certainly didn’t come from one sip of wine. Gulping the liquid down, you held the glass as you took his hand with your free one, and dragged him away from the table. He frowned, not sure what you were trying to convey until you stopped, picked up his DEA jacket and pressed it against his chest. He grinned as he looked down at you, holding it tight.

“We can eat later,” you said, turning and leading the way into your bedroom.

“Don’t have to tell me twice, hermosa.”

Javi chuckled as he hooked two fingers into the collar of the jacket and swung it over his shoulder, picking up his wine glass in the other hand as he followed you. You kept him on his toes, something that he loved about you just as much as your amazing capacity to see him for who he is and not judge him. You saw all of it, and knew he was capable of more than he gave himself credit for. You saw all his flaws, and loved him in spite of that, which he never thought would be possible. Despite all the horrors of his job, he had found something good. Something real.

And that was one thing he knew he could count on above everything else.

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Always Tomorrow

1.8K / Javier Pena x fem!reader

Summary: Javier chooses an impossible new year's resolution.

Warnings: Longing, pining. Allusion to past relationship. Cigarettes.

A/N: A quick one for the same couple from Birthday Present and Photocopies; written for @beefrobeefcal's New Year, Same Pena challenge. Can be read as standalone, but if you follow them, this takes place ~a month after Photocopies (includes a few references to what happened in that instalment); there's a clue in here re: the truth about what happened if you squint, and if you squint a little less, some hope.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics 😘/ Should I make this an official series/collection and make a masterlist?

“So, you fellas make any new year’s resolutions?”

The Ambassador’s seemingly innocuous question slices through the curls of smoke swirling upwards from the overflowing ashtray in the centre of the conference table and causes Javier to stiffen.

“To put the lid down on the toilet.  Connie’s request,” quips Steve.  The joke is a bit too juvenile and lighthearted for the serious nature of today’s debrief on Search Bloc’s updated strategy for the new year – both Murphy and Crosby’s resulting laughter is superficial, perfunctory.  Javier remains silent, pensive – preoccupied by both the myriads of tactical plans and diagrams spread across the table and his own answer.

“What about you, Agent Peña?”

He wants to glare at the older man.  Spit out his new year’s resolutions with the same soul-eroding venom it took to make them in the first place and watch as the Chief of Mission absorbed the acidity behind their meaning:

To stop being such a creep and stay away from you.

Even now in this very moment, Javier’s failing at his resolve; covetous eyes instinctively drawn to the hypnotic sway of your hips in that dress of yours that always made his heart skip - you’ve appeared out of nowhere, as if Javier’s very thoughts conjured you. He only wishes he held such a power.

Sauntering into the boardroom, your graceful but decisive steps bring you straight to the Ambassador, to whom you hand a folder and whisper your purpose.  Does Javier unwittingly lick his lips at the sight of your plush pout fluttering open and closed?  Only Murphy notices.  Is Agent Peña imagining how the warmth of your sweet breath might feel on his neck if he were on the receiving end of your quiet words?  He is.  The ever present regret in his heart reminds him that there was a time when he didn’t have to imagine.

He's jolted out of his daze when you brush past him and Steve with a professional but friendly, Agent to each man.  Even the curt moniker sounds like a song in your angelic voice - Javier closes his eyes, an attempt to slow down time and soak in your melody a little longer.

The bounce of your hair, held back prettily by silver hair clips he gifted, floats your fragrant shampoo behind you and Javier inhales it greedily – the sweet smell instantly transporting him back to when he would breathe it fresh from its source; nose buried your hair as you curled up, sated in his arms - your naked body still warm from the shower entangling with his in the once crisp, now damp sheets of your shared bed.

“Peña?”

Mierda. So much for not being a creep.

“My new year’s resolution?  To catch Escobar.”

“Good man,” a supportive palm is clasped onto Javier’s shoulder as the Ambassador turns back towards the paperwork on the table.

Yeah right.  A good man would leave you alone, not invent the flimsiest of excuses to walk past the window next to your desk every chance he got just to catch a glimpse of you.  A good man wouldn’t try to time his arrival at work to coincide with yours, marking the time he shares your same air in the elevator as the most blissful thirty seconds of his day.

Well, I’m not a good man, concedes Javier, but I am NOT a quitter either.

Too many hours later after the briefing finally concludes, Javier purposefully takes the long way back from the conference room to the DEA’s office so he can walk by your department.  He’s checking his watch after noticing that your desk sits empty, your belongings gone, when he spies the pretty shape of you disappear down the hall and around the corner towards the elevators.

Without even thinking, Javier breaks out into a sprint so he can slip into your elevator just as the doors start to close.  The elevator is packed with embassy staff eager to leave work; though the DEA agent cannot see you, he can feel you.  Javier’s shoulders sag in relief just to be this close to you again.

When he exits on the main floor, Javier walks swiftly towards the front doors – pretending that going out for a cigarette had been his intention all along.  He’s just lighting up when you fly past him and down the embassy steps towards your waiting car.  He adores you from behind - you're oblivious to him memorizing the curl of your fingers in the handle of the opening car door and the grace with which you slip in the backseat. Ever unaware of your admiring audience, the chime of your greeting to your driver rings loud and joyous even from where Javier stands.  For the second time today, Agent Peña closes his eyes to replay your voice in his mind – taking a deep drag of his cigarette as he does so; the twin high from having been in the vicinity of your being, your voice, your smell and the nicotine making him slightly lightheaded.

“Don’t most people quit cigarettes for their new year’s resolution, Peña?”

Opening his eyes, Javier sees one of his CIA counterparts standing next to him, chuckling as he himself pulls out his own pack.

“Nah.  I like a challenge for my resolutions,” Javier half jokes.

“Oh yeah?  How’s it going so far?”

Not sure if he’s happy or resigned at the truth, Javier confesses, “Failing miserably.”

“Well, there’s always tomorrow, buddy.”

“Yeah, always tomorrow,” agrees Javier, wistful - his softened eyes following your car as it leaves the embassy grounds.

You

When you walked into the big conference room to update Ambassador Crosby on the Columbian-US trade fluctuation analysis he had asked for, you weren’t at all offended that he didn’t include you in the new year’s resolutions conversation.  The man had already engaged you in what seemed to be his current go-to small talk topic earlier this morning over breakfast.

You had answered something believable about procrastinating less, improving your Spanish, to which he had approvingly nodded.

Your actual resolutions for the new year are for you and you alone:

To break though to Javier Peña and make him confess the truth to you.

After your run in with Javi in the photocopier room a month ago, you had forced yourself to push past the hurt of having his betrayal thrown in your face and sat down to really contemplate the interaction.  His soft confessions, vulnerable and pure, were so reminiscent of the Javi you had loved – the man who had so much compassion and empathy in that hidden heart of his that whenever he felt safe enough to lay it bare, it couldn’t help but overflow.  Further tearing down your already crumbling walls was the memory of his kisses - they had melted you near instantly, your own lips as desperate and wanting as his to be reunited.  And his eyes - the look in Javi's eyes that day had threatened to drown you with the intensity of devotion and love that you saw storming within.

For a brief moment, your Javi had returned to you. 

And then you think back to your birthday and the thoughtful, considerate gift he wanted you to have but never took the credit for.  So characteristic of the man to give and give, never taking anything for himself.

It had been the same when the two of you were together before.  You let yourself revisit the times you felt the safest, cherished, understood while you were in Columbia and they were all moments spent in the rough agent’s arms.  He had given you patience, kindness, and tenderness – his everything; not once did he demand anything in return, though Javi would never admit that he yearned for the same. You saw through his facade easily and showered him with your support, comfort, calm – all given freely and without reservation; and for that, he had loved you fiercely.  He had known you and you had known him, the real Javi beneath his gruff exterior armour.

Something he said that day in the photocopier room struck you as odd:

You deserve someone who can give you the best things in life.  You deserve someone better than me.

Those were not Javier Peña’s words.  After everything you had shared with him about your upbringing, your family and your complicated feelings about legacy and privilege, he would know that those words could never hold any weight with you.  Then why did he say it?  Whose words were they?  You don’t know but you think it’s the key to figuring out why Javi is pushing you away. 

After that horrible night when you ran from the heart shattering scene in his apartment, you became convinced that your relationship and the Javi you had fallen in love with had both been a lie.  A ruse to add you as another notch on Javier Peña’s already heavily laden belt.  But the thoughtfulness of his birthday gift and then the sincerity and emotion that radiated from him during your brief reunion last month had you reconsidering that premise.  Your Javi exists, you know it.  He’s in there, locked away, and you think he still loves you.  You think you still love him, too.

So, you decided you would draw him out. 

You pretend not to notice when he walks by the window next to your desk more than anyone could possibly need to, but make sure to be there as much as possible whenever he’s in the office.  You ask people to come to your desk instead of going to theirs whenever you're needed; you trouble the embassy catering staff to bring you coffee instead of going yourself to the breakroom.

You wear the clothes he loved best and always, always the silver bird barrettes he gifted you in your hair.  You’re generous with the perfume and shampoo you know he associated with your signature scent and waft by him as often as you can.  Today, for example, you could have easily left the analysis on the Ambassador’s desk, but you knew he could be found in a DEA debrief, so you went there directly instead.

You keep your schedule regular and your arrival and departure times punctual, allowing yourself to be easily found should Javi so choose.  Every morning you feel a little closer to victory when he seems to magically step into your same elevator.  At the end of today when he narrowly avoids being smushed by your closing elevator doors, you beam at the backs of the other embassy staff that stand between the two of you. 

Even as you flounce down the embassy steps past Agent Peña’s broad-shoulders, you feel his eyes - you don’t need to turn around to know that he’s watching and listening, and that thought alone warms you. 

Your heart sings affectionately in your chest. I’m going to keep reminding you of me so you don’t forget, you promise silently.  Come back to me and tell me the truth, please, Javi.

As your car pulls away from the curb, you driver engages you amiably, “So, Miss, how are your new year’s resolutions coming along?”

“Slow going,” you answer honestly, “but I am NOT a quitter.”

“Good for you! Just remember, there’s always tomorrow.”

“Right, always tomorrow,” you agree, feeling hopeful when you look back through the tinted rear window and see Javi’s puppy dog eyes following as you drive away.

Thank you all so much for your support of this Javi and his Pretty Bird, especially @milla-frenchy, without whom I may not have written any more of their story. 🥹🥹🥰 Tagging a few lovely people who left me kind words on Photocopies 😘😘: @greenwitchfromthewoods @axshadows @sunnytuliptime @joelmillerisapunk @professionalpromqueen

@ad23900 @galway-girlatwork @inept-the-magnificent @harriedandharassed @aurorawritestoescape

@desuidesu @littlemisspascal @jobean12-blog

[andy-15-07]

Hii good morning! Would you like to write anything smut for Javier Peña or any other Pedro's character you like? Thankss

The Allure of the Night

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Word Count: 2334 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

The dim light of the bar cast long shadows, painting the scene in hues of amber and gold. Javier Peña nursed his drink, the ice clinking softly in the otherwise quiet space. He watched as you moved across the room, a vibrant splash of color in the muted atmosphere. Your laughter, light and unrestrained, drifted over to him, and he found himself smiling despite the weight of the day. He’d known you for… how long had it been now? Long enough to know the curve of your smile, the way your eyes crinkled at the corners when you were truly amused, long enough to know the comfort of your presence amidst the chaos that was his life.

You reached his table, a playful glint in your eyes. “Javier. You look like you’re contemplating the mysteries of the universe.”

He chuckled, gesturing to the empty chair opposite him. “Just thinking about how much trouble one woman can cause.”

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on your lips. “And what trouble have I caused, Agent Peña?”

“Oh, you know,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “The usual. Disrupting the peace, corrupting my morals…”

“Your morals were already corrupt, Javier,” you retorted, sliding into the chair. “I just helped you embrace it.”

He laughed, the sound genuine and warm. “That you did. That you did.” He signaled the bartender for another drink. “So, what brings you out tonight? Besides the irresistible allure of my company, of course.”

“You wound me, Javier,” you said, feigning hurt. “Your company is always a draw. But I actually came to hear about your latest escapades. Anything exciting happening in the world of drug cartels and international intrigue?”

Javier’s smile faded slightly. “Same old, same old. Cat and mouse. Except sometimes it’s hard to tell who’s the cat and who’s the mouse.” He swirled the ice in his glass. “It’s… complicated.”

“Complicated seems to be your specialty,” you said softly. You reached out and covered his hand with yours, the simple gesture grounding him. “You know you can talk to me about anything, Javier.”

He looked at your hand on his, the warmth of your touch a welcome contrast to the coldness of the metal. “I know,” he said, his voice rough. “And I appreciate it. More than you know.”

The conversation flowed easily between them, a comfortable mix of banter and shared confidences. They talked about the case, the frustrations, the small victories that kept him going. You listened patiently, offering insightful comments and a sympathetic ear. You understood his world, not because you were a part of it, but because you understood him.

As the night deepened, the bar emptied, leaving only a handful of patrons. Javier and you remained, lost in your own little world. The air between you crackled with an unspoken tension, a familiar dance of attraction and hesitation. You both knew where this could lead, where it usually led, but neither of you dared to break the comfortable rhythm.

Finally, Javier leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on you. “You know,” he said, his voice low and husky, “I’ve been thinking…”

“Oh, this sounds dangerous,” you teased. “Javier Peña thinking.”

He grinned, a flash of white teeth in the dim light. “Dangerous is my middle name. Or it should be. Anyway, I was thinking… about how much I enjoy your company.”

“Is that so?” you purred, meeting his gaze.

“Yeah,” he said, his eyes tracing the curve of your jawline. “I do. You’re… you’re good for me.”

“And you’re good for me,” you replied, your voice barely a whisper.

He reached across the table, his fingers brushing against yours. A spark ignited, a familiar flame that flickered to life between them. He pulled your hand towards him, his touch surprisingly gentle. You didn’t resist.

“Come here,” he murmured, his voice laced with desire.

You stood up, your chair scraping against the floor. He met you halfway, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you close. The scent of his cologne filled your senses, a heady mix of sandalwood and something distinctly Javier. You tilted your head back, offering him your lips.

His kiss was slow and deliberate, a探求 touch that ignited a fire within you. It was a kiss that spoke of unspoken desires, of a connection that ran deeper than either of you were willing to admit. He deepened the kiss, his hand moving to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair.

The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, locked in a moment of shared passion. The bar, the case, the complications of his life… all of it disappeared, replaced by the intensity of his touch, the heat of his kiss.

He broke the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes searching yours. “Come home with me,” he whispered.

You didn’t hesitate. “Yes,” you breathed.

The drive back to his apartment was a blur. Neither of you spoke, the silence filled with anticipation. When they arrived, Javier unlocked the door and ushered you inside. The apartment was dimly lit, the only light coming from the streetlamps outside.

He turned to you, his eyes burning with intensity. He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured.

You blushed, the compliment warming you from the inside out. “Thank you,” you whispered.

He pulled you close again, his arms wrapping around you tightly. He kissed you again, a kiss that was filled with a desperate longing. His hands moved over your body, exploring the curves and contours you knew so well.

He led you to the bedroom, the air thick with unspoken promises. He closed the door behind him, shutting out the world. He turned to you, his eyes filled with a raw desire that made your breath catch in your throat.

He reached out and began to unbutton your shirt, his fingers fumbling slightly. You met his gaze, your own heart pounding in your chest. He undressed you slowly, savoring every moment. You did the same for him, your fingers trembling slightly as you unbuttoned his shirt.

He pulled you close, his body pressed against yours. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the hard muscles beneath his skin. He kissed you again, his tongue tracing the outline of your lips. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more demanding.

He lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. You gasped, your hands clutching his shoulders. He carried you to the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. He laid you down gently, his body hovering over yours.

He kissed you again, his lips trailing down your neck, your chest. He explored every inch of your body, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You moaned softly, your hands tangling in his hair.

He moved lower, his lips brushing against your skin. You arched your back, your breath catching in your throat. He continued his exploration, his touch igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you.

He finally entered you, his movements slow and deliberate. You gasped, your body tightening around him. He paused, his eyes searching yours. “Are you okay?” he whispered.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Yes.”

He began to move, his pace quickening. You met his rhythm, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony. The world dissolved, leaving only the two of you, lost in the throes of passion. You cried out his name, your voice filled with a desperate longing. He answered you with a groan, his body shuddering as he reached his climax.

He collapsed on top of you, his breath coming in ragged gasps. You held him close, your fingers stroking his hair. The silence was broken only by the sound of your breathing, the beating of your hearts.

He finally rolled over, pulling you with him. He held you close, his arm wrapped around you protectively. You snuggled against him, your head resting on his chest. You could feel the steady beat of his heart, a comforting rhythm that lulled you to sleep.

The morning light streamed through the window, waking you gently. You stretched, your body feeling pleasantly sore. You turned to find Javier sleeping soundly beside you, his face relaxed and peaceful. You smiled, a feeling of warmth spreading through you. You reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead.

He stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He looked at you, a soft smile gracing his lips. “Morning,” he murmured.

“Morning,” you replied.

He pulled you closer, his arm tightening around you. He kissed you softly, a lingering kiss that spoke of affection and tenderness. “I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered.

“Me too,” you replied, snuggling against him.

The dim silence of the early morning had given way to a warm glow as you slowly stirred beside Javier. The memory of last night’s fierce passion still shimmered in the quiet air of his bedroom. Your body felt pleasantly tender and alive with anticipation for what the morning might bring. As you shifted on the rumpled sheets, Javier’s eyes fluttered open, heavy with sleep but quickly brightening at the sight of you.

“Good morning,” he murmured in a husky tone, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your bare arm. His voice carried a mix of lingering desire and a promise of more.

“Good morning,” you replied, a teasing smile curving your lips. “I was hoping we’d have a few more moments like last night.”

Javier’s gaze darkened with need as he shifted closer. “I can’t get enough of you,” he whispered. “Tell me, do you want to taste me… again?”

The question, spoken with both vulnerability and raw passion, sent a shiver through you. You slid your hand to his chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heart beneath your palm. “I want every bit of you, Javier. Let’s not hold back.”

In that intimate, sunlit haze, the roles of giver and receiver blurred in a dance as old as desire itself. Javier was the first to act—his lips trailing heated kisses along your collarbone before softly biting at your skin, eliciting a quiet moan from you. You arched into his touch, your body inviting his exploration. With deliberate care, he began unfastening the delicate straps of your lingerie, his tongue occasionally flicking out to taste the warm skin revealed with each freed inch.

Moments later, you took control, shifting so that your eyes met his in a silent exchange of mutual invitation. “Now it’s my turn,” you said breathlessly. You slowly slid off the top of his loose T-shirt, your hands exploring the hard planes of his torso. Your fingertips grazed over the sensitive skin of his chest, drawing a low groan as you trailed kisses downward, savoring the subtle saltiness of his skin.

Before long, you found yourself kneeling between his thighs, his eyes never leaving yours. The raw desire in his gaze spurred you on as you began to tease him with gentle, exploratory kisses along the inside of his thigh. His hand threaded through your hair as his breath grew ragged, his murmurs mingling with the soft sounds of your ministrations. You took your time, letting each kiss and soft lick build the intensity between you. When you finally moved closer, your warm mouth enveloped him; every deliberate stroke of your tongue was a pledge of your shared passion.

“God, you feel so good,” he groaned, his hands resting on your head to guide your movements. His pleasure was as evident as the way his body responded to your every touch, and soon you both were caught in an intoxicating rhythm of mutual giving.

But the intimacy did not stop there. As the taste of desire and satisfaction mingled with the soft light of morning, Javier shifted his focus. With a gentle yet commanding look, he guided you so that you lay back, your body exposed in a vulnerable yet empowered state. “Now, let me show you how much I crave you,” he whispered.

Rising to his knees, he began his own exploration, his tongue tracing patterns along your inner thigh before finally reaching the most sensitive places. Every touch, every flicker of his tongue, brought soft gasps and the quickening of your breath. You arched your back, your hands gripping the sheets as waves of pleasure built inside you. In the quiet intimacy of that morning, you were both performers in a delicate, passionate duet, each act of oral caressing the other as much as it filled you with need.

Between whispered words and the music of soft moans, you exchanged playful, heated dialogue. “You taste even better than I remembered,” Javier murmured as you both took turns exploring each other’s most intimate parts. “I love hearing you moan, knowing that every inch of you is mine,” he said, his voice low and filled with adoration.

“You make me feel alive,” you responded, your words punctuated by another soft moan as he switched back to you, ensuring that every bit of desire was both given and received. The raw energy of your morning encounter was as wild as it was tender—a true celebration of trust, passion, and the magnetic pull that drew you both together time and again.

As your bodies reached a blissful crescendo, the lines between giving and receiving blurred until you were both lost in a haze of mutual ecstasy. In the aftermath, breathless and spent, you lay entwined in each other’s arms, the quiet of the morning punctuated only by soft, contented sighs. The passion of the night had transformed into a gentle, lingering tenderness as you both savored the afterglow.

In that sacred space of shared vulnerability, you knew without words that this was more than just a physical connection—it was an affirmation of the depth of your desire, trust, and the unspoken promise of many more mornings filled with both wild abandon and tender intimacy.

[absurdthirst]

Rewarded & Rescued {Javier Peña x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 18.2k

Warnings: Human trafficking, kidnapping, drugging, mentions of rape, threats of suicide, mentions of Stockholm syndrome, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, biting, protected sex, unprotected sex, angst

Comments: Undercover working for Escobar, Javier is given a horrible gift. A woman, an American. Kidnapped from a club and presented to him as a reward. Unable to let you know who he is, all he can do is reassure you that he won't hurt you. Until you work out that he's not quite what he seems.

A/N: Despite being an American, there are no physical descriptions of the reader. Conversations are in Spanish until indicated they are in English.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Javier Peña MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Gomez.” Javier looks up from his spot across the room when Herdanez comes into the room. It’s hard to react when his undercover name is called out but he forces himself to look up when he hears it. 

“¿Sí?” He asks, stubbing out his smoke in the ashtray. 

“Boss will see you now.” He says and Javier stands up and makes his way into the office. Escobar stands up and Javier pushes down his hatred of the man as he greets him as fondly as he can manage. 

“Hermano. You’ve been doing a great job. Blackie said he’s impressed and I want to reward your hard work.” He snaps his fingers and the doors open, a woman stumbling in as she is manhandled by Blackie. He refrains from clenching his jaw. He knows what this is. The reward. “She’s yours. To do whatever you want with. And she’s American.” He grins wickedly, handing Peña your passport and your purse. “She can’t go anywhere without this. Take her and keep up the good work.” He says and Javier clenches his jaw, unsure of how to feel but he knows how to react. There’s only one way. He grins and reaches out to shake the boss’s hand. 

“Thank you. She’s perfect.” He says with a smirk and your eyes widen, realizing that you aren’t gonna be rescued by this man.

It had been so stupid to go to that club. Even more stupid than it had been to even come to Colombia. You had risked it, you and the three other girls you had been with. Thinking that nothing would happen to you because you were Americans. Knowing Spanish and speaking fluently didn’t help when you were drugged and kidnapped by a fucking drug cartel. A notorious one at that. Everyone knows about Pablo Escobar. You had joked about buying some coke from him when you were safe in your hometown, planning this trip. Meeting him had been less than joyous though, your friends' fates possibly even worse than your own. They had talked about sharing the others with Escobar’s sicarios, letting all the men fuck them. It seems like you have the privilege of just being raped by one man, instead of numerous ones. “Please.” You shake your head, tears streaming down your cheeks and your jaw hurts where the one they call Blackie had punched you. “I just want to go home.” You beg. “I just want to go home.”

Javier wants to shoot every fucker in there for making a woman plead for their life, for their innocence, but he can’t. He has to pretend like he’s as evil as the rest of them. “You aren’t going home.” He says in English. “She’s going home with me.” He chuckles, speaking in Spanish again, “I’m going to fuck her so hard she splits in two. Can’t wait to see her pretty eyes water when I shove my cock down her throat.” He says wickedly, smirking at the other men. “She’s gonna be screaming out.” He chuckles. 

“Are you gonna fuck her ass? It’s cute.” Blackie winks at your horrified face and Javier shrugs, “haven’t decided. Gonna see how she does taking my cock in her pussy. I’m thick so she’s gonna struggle.”

You feel sick to your stomach. So much so that you gag. The only thing keeping you from vomiting is the fact that you are starving, not being fed since waking up in a tiny room after being taken from the club. “Please.” You begin in Spanish and then switch back to English. “Please? I can pay- my parents, they will- what do you want? Please, don’t- don’t do this.” It’s futile, but you have to try, unwilling to become someone’s sex slave.

“Your begging won’t get you anywhere. Nor will your money. Come on chica. I want to get you home.” Javier says in English as he grabs your arm from Blackie. He drags you against him and you struggle. “Don’t struggle. Unless you want me to put a fucking bullet in your brain.” He hisses in warning as he drags you out of the room to Escobar and Blackie grinning and clapping their hands in approval.

“No. No, no, no, no.” You try to fight him, to pull away even with the threat of death. It would be better than your future. You would rather be dead than to endure whatever this disgusting man would have in store for you. The fact that he’s actually attractive doesn’t even register, unable to believe anyone so vile could be remotely good looking. Your wrist hurts from how tight he is gripping it and you feel like your shoulder is going to wrench from the socket as hard as you are pulling back against him. Fruitlessly fighting the inevitable as he drags you out to a four door jeep. “No! Help! Someone please!” You scream, even though there is no one around, obviously planned that way.

He growls at you, “no one is gonna hear your cries here, sweetheart. Just shut the fuck up.” He demands, needing you to be quiet so he can get you up to his apartment and tell you he’s not gonna touch you. He slams the door after shoving you in the back seat and he gets on quickly, locking the doors before he starts the car. You press up against the wall of the car, shaking,  and Javier wants to tell you it’s okay but he can’t. He can’t help you right now. “Stop whimpering. Makes it worse.” He tells you honestly, “be brave.”

Biting your lip, you try to do as he says, sure that these men take pleasure in hearing women cry. Your tears still stream down your face, wondering if he will kill you quickly, crying for your friends. Closing your eyes, you try not to sob.

Javi quickly navigates the traffic and parks in the garage, coming around after killing the engine to open your door and he grabs your arm, “come on.” He hisses, practically dragging you into the elevator. When you press up against the wall, he pushes the button for his floor and you shake. When the doors open, you remain pressed against the wall and he shakes his head, grabbing you to swing you over his shoulder, carrying you down the hall to his apartment.

It’s almost impossible to keep from kicking and hitting at him, but you keep yourself limp, making him work to carry you. Trying to see what the apartment numbers are and looking back at the elevator so you can run away the first chance you get. The man you’ve been given to is wearing a gun, tucked into the back of his jeans and you bite your lip, wanting to reach it when you get the chance.

He knows where your mind is at. “Don’t bother. It’s not loaded.” He lies, “bullets are in my pocket.” He walks faster and deposits you at the door as he quickly fumbles with his keys, pushing the door open to push you inside within seconds. The lock clicks as he shuts the door and you stumble back, eyes wide and you’re shaking.

“Don’t touch me!” You spit, getting angry. He might overpower you, but you are going to fight him tooth and nail. Make it difficult for him. “I’ll- I’ll kill you.” You stumble back and look around the living room wildly for anything to use as a weapon.

Javier can't help it. He chuckles, shaking his head. "You won't because I ain't gonna touch you, sweetheart." He can't tell you why but he can tell you that he won't harm you. "I - it's a long story but I had to make a show of it back there. I am not - not-" He emphasizes, "that kind of man. I won't touch you. You stay here with me until I can get you out. I can't risk it yet. Gotta make them think that I have violated you to impress them."

Shaking your head, you scoff, not believing him for a minute. He just wants you to let down your guard, to make it easier for him. He steps forward and you leap back, bumping into the coffee table and knocking a letter opener onto the floor with a loud clatter. Looking down, your eyes widen and you drop down to your knees to grab it as he rushes forward. “Stay back!” You scream, holding the sharp tip to your own neck. “One more step and you’ll have to fuck my dead body before it gets too cold!”

“Jesus Christ“ Javier groans, and shakes his head, unable to believe how dramatic you are being. To threaten to take your own life. When he just told you, he wasn’t going to touch you. He guesses he has to make you believe him by his actions, “there is no need for that, sweetheart. I promise you that I’m not going to touch you. I swear on my dead mama‘s grave and I like my women to be willing. I don’t like a fucking struggle. I want a woman to shake in pleasure, not in fear.“

“Then let me go.” You demand, frowning at him. He doesn’t seem angry you are threatening to kill yourself, just annoyed by wasting his time. “I can’t.” He huffs, making you snort. 

“Of course you can’t. Why would you want to give up your gift? Doesn’t matter that I’m a fucking human being! You can’t own me, you don’t own me!” You start to yell again. “I have been threatened with rape, torture, I’ve been beaten and slapped around, my friends are probably raped and murdered too, all because I came to this fucking place and went to a club! Now I want to go home!”

Javier winces, knowing that your friends have definitely suffered a terrible fate at the hands of the sicarios but he won’t let that happen to you. “Listen to me.” He insists, “I can’t let you go because then they’ll know and I - shit - I can’t explain it to you but you got to believe me. Just believe me. I won’t touch you. I’ll make sure you’re fed and safe but you can’t leave.”

You don’t believe him, but it will do nothing more than piss him off to continue to argue with the man. He could just decide to shoot you, so you slowly drop the letter opener from your throat but you don’t let it go. Not fighting him will be as good as it gets.

Javier wants to roll his eyes if you think that you can take him down with a letter opener. “Do you want anything to eat? I doubt those fuckers fed you. I’m not much of a cook but I can do eggs and toast.”

You stare at him for a second. Wondering why, if he’s not like those other men, is he with them. When he just continues to stare at you, you nod slightly. “I- I don’t know what day it is.” You tell him. “I was at the club on Saturday night.”

“It’s Wednesday. They kept you in a room with your friends yesterday because you wouldn’t submit and they needed to make you suffer. Weaken you. It’s what they do. Fuck with your mind, then your body. Let’s get you something to eat and to drink. You gotta be starving.”

You shouldn’t take anything from him. Not when you know that he could just be toying with you, but you are ravenous. You bite your lip and nod once, looking around the apartment once again. Looking for any clue of what kind of man you had been given to.

He nods, making his way into the kitchen. He knows he’s taking a risk having you here and you could easily try to run or try to kill him but he has to take the risk. The bigger risk would be his cover being blown. He doesn’t entirely know if you’re a plant in his home to give information back to Escobar. He trusts no one and he can’t risk anything but he wouldn’t touch you. He could never cross that line. He opens the fridge and grabs the eggs and bread, grabbing the bottles of water to give you, certain that you’ll want something sealed until you can trust him.

It’s comforting that he’s given you something sealed but you discreetly turn the water bottle upside down and squeeze it to make sure there’s not a needle hole in the plastic. When it holds, you eagerly turn it upright and quickly break the seal. Gulping down the water in desperate gulps as you think it might be the best water you’ve ever tasted because you are so thirsty.

Javier watches you down the water as he puts the pans on the stove to begin cooking. The eggs start to cook and he turns to look at you, to really look at you. You’re gorgeous. No need to deny that to himself but he knows you’re angry and sad. Rightly so. He is for you. That this fuckers are doing this to other women and getting away with it. That’s why he’s doing this. Because of Helena, because of the lives that are destroyed directly or indirectly by Escobar.

You feel better just by drinking the water, but your stomach is still panging with hunger. The smell of the food making you moan quietly, unconsciously stepping towards the kitchen and the man inside it. “Are you- I can have some food?” You ask quietly. “Without doing things?”

Javier wants to growl out his frustration at you being worried that he wants something in exchange for food. The basic need. It’s insulting. He turns to look at you incredulously. “Are you fucking kidding? I- I just told you I didn’t want anything and this is food. You need food. Like I said, I like my women to give me all encompassing consent and I want them to be fully enjoying themselves. A struggle isn’t a turn on for me. It’s disgusting.” He says honestly, his face straight to convey the seriousness of his statement until he turns back to stir the scrambled eggs.

For a moment, you feel guilty. He seems genuinely disgusted by the idea of demanding favors from you, but he had accepted you as some sort of bonus from his boss. You swallow harshly and toy with the letter opener that’s still in your other hand. “Can I have more water? My- my mouth is still dry.”

“Sure. There’s plenty in the fridge. Go get one.” He says, wanting to give you some autonomy in a situation that makes you feel trapped. He watches you hesitate before you walk over to the fridge and he starts to butter the bread and puts it on the pan to toast.

You grab another water and look through the contents of the fridge. There’s not much, obviously he doesn’t eat here often and you wonder why he’s bothering to cook for you. More importantly, why aren’t you trying to get out of the apartment? You’re tired, hungry and he’s holding your passport. That’s why. You move over to a barstool at the counter and plop down, overwhelmed by everything.

He glances over his shoulder at you as he plates up the food, turning off the stove and he carries the plates over to the counter, setting them down in front of you and he turns back to clean up. “Eat.” He orders you with a point before he turns back to clean up.

It’s probably the gruffest nice thing that anyone has ever done for you, and you want to resist, but you’re starving. Falling on the simple breakfast with an enthusiasm that surprises you.

Javi notices how hungry you are and he pushes the other plate towards you. “Have that. You’re hungry. I already ate today.” He says as he washes up the pans, allowing you to have your meal in peace. He wants you to relax a little, realize he isn’t going to hurt you.

You shouldn’t accept it, but you’re too hungry to push it away. Devouring your eggs and toast before pushing the empty plate away and starting on the next. You might make yourself sick, but right now, you don’t even care.

He’s pleased that you are eating. You clearly need it after those bastards starved you. “I’m sure you want a shower too. I have a shirt you can borrow and some boxers - they’re new…I don’t really wear them.” He confesses, “I’ll see about getting you some clothes tomorrow.” He says, knowing he’s gonna need some help from one of the girls to get the right stuff. All he knows about clothes is ripping them off and he doesn’t want to do that to you.

You freeze for a moment, sure that the offer is just a ploy to leave you naked and vulnerable. His stance is unsure when he turns back to you, as if he’s embarrassed by the idea of not having clothes for you and that makes you relax. “I- I won’t-“ you pause, not sure of what you will say. “Thank you.”

Javier nods, “you need clothes and toiletries. Make a list of what you need and your sizes and I’ll get it sorted.” He promises as he scrubs the pan while you finish eating. He’s not sure how he’s going to get you out of the country without Escobar knowing. He will have to think about it later when you’re settled and not trying to stab yourself or him with a letter opener.

You can’t believe this man is willing to buy you clothes. Frowning slightly as you swallow the last bite of eggs. “Why do you work for a man like that?” You ask. “If you aren’t like him? How can you stand what he does to people?”

“It’s complicated.” Javier tells you as he wipes the counter down before he turns back to look at you. “I can’t tell you why. It would put you in even more danger. I know you can’t but all I can ask is that you trust me.” He pleads, needing you to believe that he’s here to be a good man, not like them.

You have no choice but to believe that he isn’t like those other men. It’s not like you can do much if he is, regardless. Your eyes are on his and you nod, realizing that he looks haunted. His dark eyes are trying to tell you something, but you don’t know what. “The American newspapers say the DEA will catch Escobar any day now.” You tell him. “You might want to stop working for him if you want to avoid jail or being killed.”

Javier can’t help but snort, “sure thing, sweetheart. I’ll keep that in mind.” Unable to tell you that he’s DEA. He can’t tell you anything, just in case you are a plant from Escobar. Your reactions tell him you aren’t but he can never be too sure.

You can only pray that you are still alive by the time that Escobar is taken down. You scrape the plate clean and sigh softly. Your stomach doesn’t hurt any more but you’re emotional and honestly exhausted. Yawning catches you off guard and you try to hide it from the man.

Javier notices and bites his lip, watching you for a second. “You wanna shower before you go to bed?” He asks, “I have a guest room. It’s all yours.” He adds when you narrow your eyes at him. He guides you to the bedroom and shows you the shower. “I’ll get you some clean clothes.” He offers, knowing you’ll want some alone time.

You’re alone and it should be the time that you are running to the window to see if you can escape or signal someone, but you’re too tired. Beaten down already and just wanting to shower and sleep. He’s bringing you clothes so you can’t lock the door, but you do lock the door to the bathroom before you strip your clothes off. The letter opener on the edge of the tub.

He grabs some clothes for you, setting them on the bed, and he wonders what’s going through your mind. You must be terrified. He wants to grab his gun and kill every fucker who does this to a woman. Make them pay. He can’t, not yet. He has to take this operation down from the inside out. He rubs his cheek while you shower, grabbing his pack of cigarettes to quickly light one. It’s gonna be hard to keep himself from thinking about how gorgeous you are. You are a beautiful woman and he can never tell you. You’d immediately be on alert and not trust him.

You feel better now that you’ve showered. Clean. You had scrubbed your skin so hard it practically squeaks and you are glad to trade the club dress that was stained and torn for the comfortable t-shirt and boxers that were waiting on the bed when you had peeked out the door to find no one in the room.

Javier snubs out his smoke and picks up the phone, dialing in on a classified number and giving his code name for access. “Peña. How’s it going?” His partner Steve asks. 

“Christ, they gave me a girl. To do whatever I want with.” He tells Steve who groans down the phone. 

“What are you gonna do with her? Fuck her?” Steve asks and Javi growls, “fuck no. She - she’s American. I have her passport. I need to figure out how to get her on a plane without Escobar knowing what I’ve done.” Javi explains.

Steve hums down the phone, “let me sort that out. You can’t risk having some girl in your apartment. Jesus, never thought I’d say that.” Steve snorts, “leave it with me.” He says before the line goes dead and Javier sighs.

Back in the bedroom, you are too exhausted to come back out, but you don’t completely trust the man who’s apartment you are in. Sliding a chair under the doorknob would be too obvious, so you put the letter opener under your pillow when you collapse onto the bed, ready to sleep. Hopefully, this will all be a bad dream and you will wake up from it soon.

Javier takes a sip of the whiskey, staring at the papers on the kitchen table while you sleep. He’s trying to figure out where the illegal money goes and who the money man is. If he can figure that out, he can track them down and bring them in. Escobar has had the government in his pocket for too long and they need undeniable evidence to make anyone take notice and question the cartel leader.

You sleep for hours. The sun is gone and the room is dark when you wake up. Making you think that maybe you had dreamed it all when you feel the letter opener under the pillow. Screaming when you realize you really are in this nightmare and not waking up safe and at home.

Javier rushes into the bedroom, eyes wide and gun in hand as he wonders if somehow someone from the cartel has realized who he is and has decided to take you both out. When he sees you sitting up, he glances around the room with his gun drawn. “What the fuck?” He shouts, heart pounding.

Eyes wide. You gulp. “S-sorry.” You bite your lip and raise your hands, leaving the letter opener under the pillow. “Bad dream.” You explain quietly. “I-I had a bad dream.”

He lowers the gun, feeling guilty for you having bad dreams. He shakes his head and shoves the gun into the back of his pants. “Jesus. Scared the shit out of me.” He confesses, placing his hand on his racing heart. “You want something to drink?” He asks, knowing you might not but he needs something to take the edge off.

You tilt your head, confused at the way this man just offers you casual hospitality like you aren’t his property. Nodding slowly, you have to admit that it would be good to relax a bit. “I- thank you.” You mumble. “For not shooting me.”

Javier snorts, “yeah well, I don’t usually hesitate before shooting.” He confesses, “but I wouldn’t shoot you.” He promises as he walks into the living room and over to the bar cart. “I have whiskey and…vodka.” He says, knowing that whiskey is the only thing he drinks so he has vodka for any of his female company that comes over to give him intel.

“I drink what you drink.” You decide, figuring it would be safer to have the same thing he is. He was less likely to drug your drink that way. You scramble after him, wearing the clothes he had brought you and in your haste, you had forgotten the letter opener.

Javier nods, grabbing two glasses and he pours out a heavy measure of whiskey into each glass. He knows you need it and he definitely fucking does. He hands you the glass after letting you watch him pour and he takes a sip to assure you it’s safe. “I’m sorry you’re here. In this shit situation with me.”

“I don’t understand.” You take a sip of your whiskey after he does. “You don’t act like Escobar, joking about what he would do with me if he wasn’t giving me to you. Yet, you had done something vile enough to rate getting a real live sex toy.” You snort. “A fresh cunt as Pablo said.”

Javier turns to look you in the eye, “don’t be mistaken. I’m not a good man. I’ve done a lot of shit. Bad shit. But that- touching a woman without her consent? That is too fucking far. I’ll kill bad men but I won’t kill women or children. I need to prove myself to Escobar but not by violating an innocent woman. I meant what I said…I like my women willing and consensual.”

You contemplate what he says, watching him closely and realize that he really is handsome. His chiseled jaw compliments his sharp nose and is softened by the mustache that is straight from the 70’s. “You must have been a Bandit fan.” You tell him suddenly, thinking about the American movie.

Javier chuckles, “I did love watching Burt Reynolds but I tried the 80s and didn’t like the clothes of the music. Didn’t fit me so I turned back to my old closet and I’ve never looked back since.” He smirks, “most women say it suits me.” He shrugs and takes another sip of his drink.

It does suit him and he knows it. You settle in the chair opposite him a little more. “So you aren’t going to hurt me, but you can’t let me go? Right?” You bite your lip. “Tell me, what are you going to do with me?”

Javier sighs, setting his glass down. “You’re gonna stay here until I can figure out how to get you home.” He reveals, “it’s too dangerous to let you go. They’ll find out I let you go and then it’s my ass on the line. Give me time to figure it out and then I’ll get you home.”

“Why?” You frown, looking down into the last drops of your whiskey and then back up at him. “You don’t know me, I’m nothing to you.” It’s harsh, but it’s also reality. He shouldn’t care about you at all but he’s going to risk himself for you?

“You represent the many women who have been abused or killed at the hands of Pablo Escobar and his sicarios. You won’t be one of the many who have suffered at their hands. You’ll go home and tell the world about this tragedy and tell them that Pablo Escobar needs to be taken down.” He says, measuring your reaction.

You stare at him in shock for a moment, unable to believe that he just said that about his boss. Biting your lip, your eyes water emotionally and you nod. “I’ll scream it every chance I get if I survive this.” You know there’s a good chance you won’t live. “He’s- he’s a monster. One who pretends to be noble.” You snort and shake your head. “I’m so fucking stupid. My friends and I- we joked about meeting Escobar on this trip. Buying some coke from him. I’ve never fucking done coke, but I was so cute, thinking that I could meet a drug kingpin.” You shudder and look back down at your drink. “Wish I had fucking missed my flight. Never come here.”

Javier reaches out to touch your hand before he pulls it back. “Don’t worry. I’ll get you out of here. You’ll be safe with me. You shouldn’t have come to Colombia. You should’ve stayed at home. You and your friends shouldn’t have come but you’ll get home.” He promises, “I’ll get you home.”

“I’m sorry.” You whimper quietly. “This is all my fault. It was my idea to come.” You confess. “My friends- they-“ you shake your head, unable to even voice the horrible things that you imagine they are going through. “It’s my fault.”

Javier doesn’t try to placate you with words when you know you’ve fucked up. He doesn’t want to upset you even more but he doesn’t comfort you. “Like I said, you will go home. I’ll make sure of it.”

“I’ll believe you.” You snort, tossing back the rest of the whiskey and holding out the glass for another. “If I don’t, I’ll drive myself crazy.”

Javier nods in understanding as he grabs the glass and refills it. “You can’t leave here, you understand? If you leave, you die. I can’t protect you outside of this apartment.” He says as he hands you back the glass.

“I won’t leave.” You promise, shaking your head. “If you are actually not going to hurt me and keep me safe, I will do whatever you want me to. I just want to go home.”

“I’ll get you home.” Javi promises, his dark eyes meeting yours as he swears he will do whatever it takes to get you home. “Just do what I tell you and you’ll get home.” He swears, downing the rest of his drink. 

**** 

It’s been a few days that you’ve been in his apartment and Javier has left to check in with the sicarios, having to lie and tell them the disgusting things they’d expect him to do to you. They laugh and he pretends to go along with it, making out like he’s done those vile things to you. When he returns to his apartment, he unlocks the door to find you walking around in the fucking shorts he bought you from the list you gave him. He feels disgusting for finding you attractive but you are. You’re gorgeous and he finds himself thinking about you but he would never cross a line, you trust him and he wouldn’t break that trust.

You turn towards the door and watch him walk in, smiling at the sight of him. “Hey.” You greet him and hurry over the bar cart. You have learned that he loves to have whiskey, especially when he’s dealing with the Escobar or his cronies. Pouring him a drink, you hold it out to him. “I started dinner. It should be done soon.”

“That smells good.” He tells you, groaning at the scent wafting from the kitchen. You’ve taken to cooking dinner and for a man who usually survives on booze and cigarettes, it’s a welcome change in his apartment. “What’s cooking?” He asks as he takes the drink from your hand. God, you’re fucking beautiful and can cook. Any man’s dream but he can’t kiss you. Even if he wants to. It’s hard for him to distance himself when he’s so used to physical contact. He hasn’t brought back any of his contacts to the apartment.

“You had some meat in the freezer so it’s like a birria, but I didn’t have tomatoes.” You shrug slightly as he lifts the lid on the pot. “Hopefully it’s good. Although maybe I need to give you a shopping list.”

“Smells fucking delicious.” He groans, “you’re a good cook.” He says and turns back after setting the lid back on the pot. “You’re - you’re too good to me considering the situation.” He murmurs, sliding his eyes across the room guiltily, knowing that his contacts at the embassy are working on how to get you out of the country without anyone knowing.

“You could be a lot worse to me.” You acknowledge. “You could have given me back. I’m grateful that you have kept your word and kept me safe.”

Javier nods, reaching out to gently touch your upper arm. “I am working on getting you out. It’s not gonna be easy but I’m working on it.” He tells you, lowering his hand when he reminds himself that you probably don’t fully trust him even if he’s given you no reason to doubt him.

“I- I appreciate it.” You murmur quietly, looking down at the rice you are cooking. It’s been harder to ignore how attractive he is since you’ve settled in and realized that you are safe. “I really do. So while I can, I’m going to take care of you.”

Javier is surprised and he shakes his head, a little pleased that you feel comfortable with him. “You don’t have to but I appreciate it.” He tells you softly, “now…you want something to drink and then I’ll show you the new clothes I got you.” He says, knowing you need more clothes, he had gotten the girls who work for Escobar to help him get some things.

“You bought me more clothes?” Your eyes widen. “All I do is stay in your apartment. What you had gotten for me was fine.” You promise. You aren’t ungrateful, but he’s not going to take you anywhere, so as long as you’re covered, you’re fine. In fact, you have grown comfortable walking around his apartment in shorts and one of his t-shirts.

“I just wanted you to have some choices.” He shrugs, a little flustered. He must admit that he loves seeing you in his shirts but he can’t admit that to you. You’d think he’s a creep. “I spoke to someone today who is working on getting you a fake passport to get you into the airport and on the plane so Escobar isn’t flagged that you’re leaving.”

“Do you think that could actually happen?” Your eyes are wide and hopeful. “That’s amazing!” You bite your lip so you don’t cry, noticing that tears make him uncomfortable.

“I’m working on it, beautiful.” He promises, “I’m not that bad to live with, I hope, that you want to go because of me.” He teases softly and he winks at you. You have slotted into his life seamlessly and he isn’t sure how to feel about it.

You laugh and bite your lip again, this time to keep from saying that he is great. For a man who obviously has done horrible things, he’s actually pretty fantastic. He is kind, respectable, and intelligent. You’ve spent hours reading the books in his apartment. “No, not because of you. I think that you might be my guardian angel.”

Javier sighs and shakes his head, “I wouldn’t say that. I- I’ve done bad things in my life. I’m not a good man but like I said, I would never hurt a woman. My mama would slap me across the head if she were alive.” He says, ducking his head and he bites his lip, “when’s dinner gonna be ready? I’ll set the table.”

You shake your head and push him away from the stove playfully. “Go shower.” You insist. “You stink.” He doesn’t, but you want to take care of him. He should relax and get clean. “Shoo.”

He chuckles and nods, making his way out of the kitchen to shower and clean up. He never imagined he’d enjoy this kind of life. The one where he comes home to a home cooked meal and a woman that makes his heart flutter - not that he’d ever tell you that. He can’t get involved with you. You don’t actually know him or who he is. He needs to get you home and safe and he needs to take down Escobar.

Setting the table is so domestic. Like all of this. The table setting is for two, since he insists you eat as well and it’s shameful but you imagine he’s your boyfriend that you are cooking for. That you are together and he will kiss you before you eat. The rice is done and you smirk when you hear the shower start up, knowing that he will feel better after getting clean.

Javier showers and he can’t help his cock hardening at the thought of you walking around in his shirt wearing those short shorts. Fuck, he shouldn’t do this. He shouldn’t touch himself at the thought of you. He wants it. It’s hard not to when you look at him with those eyes. “Shit.” He hisses in English, reaching down to grip his hard cock, knowing this won’t go away until he deals with it. He slowly pumps, imagining you spread out on his kitchen table instead of your delicious food.

You fix yourself a drink too, aware that he doesn’t mind and sip it while you chop the few vegetables he had to make a salad. The man needs some proper food. And not from a restaurant like he had been doing. It feels good to do this, and you can see he appreciates it. Loving how he groans when he eats, you touched yourself last night imagining those groans were his sex noises.

He pants as he jerks himself off, the hot water running down his back as he imagined those little whimpers you make sometimes are from his mouth on your pussy. He wants to hear how you moan, see how you cum. You are as intoxicating as the whiskey you serve him and fuck if he doesn't want to drown in you.

The timer on the stove goes off and you smirk when you open the lid again. It’s smelling delicious and will be perfect the rice and the tortillas. His shower is taking longer than normal, so you don’t dish it up just yet, wanting it to be steaming hot when he sits down to eat

He groans when he cums, painting the shower tiles with his seed as he clenches his eyes shut and thinks about you. How fucking perfect you are. He pants as he rests his forehead on the cool tile as he slowly works his cock until he lets go and washes off the wall. He will do whatever it takes to get you home. You deserve to be safe and with your family. After turning off the shower and drying off, he dresses and makes his way back into the kitchen. "Smell better?" He asks teasingly.

You grin and lean in to sniff him when there’s the sound of gunfire, seemingly right outside the window. “Get down!” He screams in perfect English as he grabs your arm and pushes you down, under the table and sprints across the room to his gun.

His heart pounds as he grabs his gun and presses against the wall beside the window. The gun shots become more distant and he chances a peek out the window. Seeing a young kid running away. It’s something that happens with the young teenagers fighting in their own gangs. He pants as he lowers his gun, tense but glad to know you’re not in danger. You’re under the table so he sets the gun on the side and kneels down to see you. “You okay, sweetheart?” He asks you, again in perfect English, forgetting to keep up speaking in his mother tongue around you.

English. His English is perfect, not even a hint of an accent. He's an American. Your eyes widen in horror and you jerk back when he reaches for you. “You’re an American!” You screech, pushing out from under the table and moving to the other side, keeping the table between you. “You motherfucker, you’ve been lying to me! What is this? Some kind of trick? You’re planning on trafficking me?”

Javier curses softly under his breath at his fuck up. “No! No! I- shit. I can’t tell you. I can’t but you have to trust me. I’m American and I’m- I’m one of the good guys.” He winces at how bad that sounds but it’s true. “You gotta just trust me, sweetheart. I’m gonna get you home.”

“Stay back.” You shake your head and your heart drops. “I- I don’t believe you. I’ve been here for days and you’ve just pretended that you aren’t American! How can I trust anything you say?”

“You have to.” He says harshly, “I’m the only way you’re going to get out of this country. I’m your only hope. So you better trust me or you will be stuck here forever.” He half threatens, needing you to understand the gravity of the situation.

Your eyes widen and you swallow harshly. “You’re an asshole.” You decide, not hungry anymore and you turn around and march towards the second bedroom he had given you to use.

Javier sighs, feeling all the progress goes down the drain as you slam the door and he leans against the counter, looking down at the food you cooked. He washes up and puts the food in the fridge, sighing your name as he wonders what to do now. He needs you to trust him for this to work. He decides to call Steve and see how things are going with the passport situation.

You don’t come out of the bedroom until you hear him leave the apartment again. Sighing as you come out to find that he had cleaned up the kitchen and put everything away. The clothes he had bought are neatly stacked on the counter.

Javier sits in the bar, smoking his cigarette, and the woman walks past. His eyes trail along her figure but he finds the usual fire he feels absent. Usually he’d be chasing her but now, all he can think about is you. He met with Steve in an abandoned parking lot, discussing the details and timeline on the passport for you. Steve narrowed his eyes at him, asking if he liked you, to which Javi vehemently shook his head. Now, he’s giving you space and he knows he has to go home soon to check on you.

Biting your lip, you look at the closed door that is leading to his bedroom. You haven’t been in there before, but now you want to see what this man is like. Walking over to it, you push the door opened and step inside.

Javier downs the rest of his drink and the woman stands at the bar making eyes at him. He smirks at her and winks but walks straight past her to head home. He hasn’t slept with anyone since you arrived because he didn’t want anyone to see you and he has to keep up appearances that you’re his sex toy. It’s been a while for a man who uses sex to process his emotions. He heads out the door and makes his way home, eager to see you and make amends.

You find his room to be really tidy for a man. His bed is neatly made and his dirty clothes are in a basket. All in all, the room is devoid of anything personal. Which makes you wonder even more about him. About why he is working with Escobar.

Javier comes down the hall of the building and quickly unlocks the door. You clearly don’t hear him because he finds you in his room, the door open, and he can’t help but confront you. “What are you doing in my room?”

“Trying to find out who you are.” You don’t even try to lie, you don’t need to. Closing the beside drawer, you stand up straight. “What I’ve found, is that you are either the most unsentimental man on the planet, or you are here - working for Escobar - for a reason.

He appreciates you not lying to him and he knows he hasn’t told you anything. Maybe now is the time to tell you. “Come have a drink with me and I’ll tell you who I am.” He says, jerking his chin towards the door and he makes his way out into the living room and over to the bar cart.

He’s not yelling at you, or demanding you get out of his room and it puts you at ease more than anything else. Following him quietly and sitting down on the couch while he pours you both drinks.

Javier hands you the drink before he comes over to sit next to you on the sofa. He’s torn on telling you but he also thinks you deserve to know the truth now. He trusts you. He knows you aren’t working for Escobar otherwise his door would’ve been pushed down by now and a bullet in his chest. “I, uh, I don’t work for Escobar. Well, I do but…I’m actually a DEA agent and I am undercover working to take down Escobar and his cartel.” He reveals, deciding to cut straight to the truth.

Your eyes widen and your jaw drops open. What you had expected, you don’t know, but it wasn’t that he was a DEA agent. “I- are you for real?” You demand. “A fucking DEA agent? You must have been laughing at me when I said that the agency was close to catching Escobar?”

Javier shakes his head, “I wish we were closer. I wasn’t - I wasn’t original assigned to do this but I have to take him down. That’s why- it’s why I had to pretend that I was gonna abuse you. That’s what they expect of me and if I didn’t do that, I would’ve been found out.” He says with a sigh, taking a sip of his drink.

You stare down at your drink and sigh. “So the DEA knows Escobar is kidnapping women and trafficking them?” You ask quietly. “Good. Motherfucker needs to pay for what he did to me, to my friends.”

Javier nods, “he’s gonna pay. For all of it. He’s gonna be taken down and I’m gonna do whatever it takes to make sure he pays for what he’s done.” Javier promises, “I’m just - I’m sorry you’ve gotten tangled up in this. That you’re stuck here with me.” He finishes with a murmur.

“Out of everyone Escobar could have given me to, I’m glad it’s you.” You admit quietly. “I could have been really screwed.” You snort at your pun. “Literally.” It’s better to joke about it now, to break the tension. Even if there’s nothing funny about what could have happened. “So now you don’t have to pretend with me anymore.”

Javier nods, "I am glad I don't have to pretend anymore, sweetheart. I - my pa would kill me for lying to a beautiful woman." He chuckles softly, looking down at his glass, sloshing the liquid.

Your brow raises at the words he uses. “You think I’m beautiful?” You ask in surprise. “I- I didn’t think that you- you never- I-“ you break off and just shrug.

He sighs and shakes his head, "I didn't want you to think that I wanted to save you because I wanted you to - you know. That was what I saved you from. You're gorgeous and I - I gotta tell you, sweetheart, I ain't got the best reputation around town. I, uh, a lot of sicarios spend their time in the brothels and...so do I."

“Do you beat the women?” You ask seriously. “Abuse them? You once told me that you like your women willing and eager to fall into bed with you. Is that true?”

He shakes his head immediately, "no. Shit. No. I don't - I pay them well. They give me intel and I, uh, I make sure they enjoy the time they spend with me. I haven't been since you got here." He confesses, biting his lip.

“Because of me….” You bite your lip and you can’t help how that makes you feel. Almost proud that he’s not been with anyone else. “Is that because you don’t want them to know you aren’t touching me?”

“Partly. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I didn't want to make you feel awkward and I didn't want to leave you alone for too long. And...and because none of them interest me since you've arrived."He admits, his dark eyes flicking up to yours as he worries about your reaction.

“Do I interest you?” You ask softly, afraid that you’re reading too much into this and wait for him to tell you no. The nod is so subtle, you almost miss it, but it’s there. He wants you. You look down at your drink and set it down on the coffee table. “I’m going to go into your bedroom.” You announce as you stand up, “come in two minutes from now.”

His eyes widen slightly and he swallows down the rest of his whiskey when you disappear into his bedroom. He rubs his hands on his jeans, Adam's apple bobbing with nerves. He is used to paying a woman for sex. You are different. You want him, actually want him, and he holds your life in his hands. He wants to keep you safe from everything...including him. Yet he can't deny what he wants. He wants you. Standing up, he waits another thirty seconds before he makes his way into his bedroom.

Inside his bedroom, you strip down to nothing. Aware that he could reject you or end up being a far different lover than what you’ve imagined but you have to take the risk. You want to feel alive for the first time since this entire ordeal started and ironically, you’ll achieve that by fucking the man you had been given to. Except you are in charge of your body, and you want him to touch you. You kneel down on the bed and look at the door when it opens.

Javier inhales deeply when he sees you naked and kneeling on his bed. Christ, you're gorgeous. He slowly walks over to the bed, his cock twitching in his jeans, and he reaches out to gently grip your chin, making you look at him. "Tell me what you want, hermosa." He orders softly, wanting to hear you say it before he goes any further.

It’s so strange to hear his voice in English after hearing it for days in Spanish. You bite your lip and turn your head to kiss his palm. “I’ve imagined you touching me. Making me cum.” You admit when you nuzzle back into his hand. “I want you to tell me your real first name so I can cry that out when I cum.”

He nods, pleased that you want him to make you cum. It’s what he’s imagined since you arrived. “Javier. My name is Javier but you can call me Javi.” He tells you, caressing your cheek until his hand slides down to your neck. He squeezes it gently and slides it lower until he’s cupping your breast. “Eres hermosa.” He murmurs, “I’ve thought about you in my bed.” He confesses, “thought about making you cry out my real name.” He squeezes your breast before he pinches your nipple.

You gasp out in pleasure at the sudden, brief burst of painful bliss. It’s just the right amount of roughness that you would enjoy anytime but especially right now. “J-Javi.” You whimper, already struggling to keep your eyes open so you can watch him touch you. “Do what you imagined to me.” You beg softly

He groans softly, letting go of your breast to cup your cheek again and he surges forward to press his lips to yours. Pushing you back on the bed as he shifts to hover over you. Managing to kick his shoes off as he straddles your naked body, his tongue sliding into your mouth.

There’s something intoxicating about his clothed body grinding against yours. Enjoying the rough feel of his jeans against your thighs and core when he presses a leg between yours. His shirt is hanging down and you capture it, starting to unbutton it to feel his hot skin underneath your fingers as you kiss.

He’s already drunk on you. Groaning into your mouth as you fumble to undo his shirt and his hand slides down to squeeze your tit again. Unable to stop himself, he pulls away from your mouth, kisses down your neck, and takes your nipple into his mouth.

"Ohhhh fuck." you toss your head back against the pillows and whine at the sensation of his hot mouth against your nipple. HIs tongue running over it again and his teeth scraping over the sensitive skin. "That's- so good." you pant out, running your fingers through his hair and tugging on it lightly.

He groans into your skin, switching over to your other breast, and his tongue soothes the flesh after he bites down. Your moans and gasps have him throbbing in his pants and he shifts to continue kissing down your body, his tongue dipping into your belly button before he shifts to spread your thighs with his shoulders. Breathing you in, he gets a good look at your dripping wet cunt.

"Are you- you do that?" You ask breathlessly, lifting your head and looking down at him in shock. It was rare to find a man willing to even get close to a cunt with his face, but he seems almost eager. "You don't have to- I know that I'm wet enough."

Javier looks up at your confused expression and he snorts, “baby. I love pussy. I love burying my face in a pussy. I wanna bury my face in this pussy.” He says and surges forward to slide his tongue through your folds, groaning as your tangy taste hits his taste buds.

You whine, toes curling up and digging into the sheets underneath you. "Oh fuck!" you cry out, unable to believe that this man has his tongue sliding through your folds with an eagerness that would have you believing the women he paid were actually paying him. "Oh fuck, Javi."

He grins against your wet flesh, his fingers grabbing your thighs to push them back so he can push his tongue deep inside of you. The way you cry out has him grinding into the mattress and he’s glad he has his jeans on still.

Javi doesn’t just lick you to show that he will eat pussy, he licks you like it’s his only purpose. Thoroughly taking you apart one sharp flick of his tongue at a time, with his nose pressed against your mound and his hot breath puffing against your cunt.

Javier groans, loving your breathlessly whimpers and cries of his name, cries of nothing as you react to his tongue. He’s determined to hear you cum, to fall apart on his tongue. He wants to hear your pleasure. He closes his eyes for a second until you tug on his hair and he hisses into your pussy, dark eyes opening to meet yours.

“You like that?” You get your answer when you tug on his hair again and he groans into your folds again. Making you smirk slightly as you loosen your grip. “Make me cum.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking hard, and he needs you to fall apart beneath his tongue. His fingers press into your thighs as he spreads you further open for him.

Your thighs fall open for him. Willing to let him get as deep as he wishes if he continues to touch you like this. One hand buries itself back into his longer hair and the other grips the sheets tight. “Javi- oh- oh Jaaaaaavvviiiii!” You squeal when the next suck makes you fall over the edge and you shake in pleasure.

He works you through it, loving the way your thighs shake and you squeal his name. It almost makes him cum. He laps at your essence, loving the tangy taste as he eagerly drinks up every drop while he works you through your pleasure until you’re pushing his head away when it becomes too much for you.

“Oh fuck.” Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath but you want him to kiss you. Tugging gently on his hair and his shoulder, you urge him to crawl up your body. “Kiss me, fuck, I need you to kiss me.”

He can’t deny you anything. He crawls up your body, groaning your name as he wastes no time pressing his lips to yours. His tongue pushes into your mouth as he settles between your thighs again, grinding into you.

Your fingers slide down to the belt around his waist. Needing to strip him down and feel him. Unbuckling the clasp and flicking open the button. “Shit…” you hiss, reaching down and discovering he doesn’t wear underwear.

Javier grunts when you reach in to pull his cock out. He’s hard for you, aching really after jerking off so many times in the shower to thoughts of you. “Fuck baby. You feel too damn good. You want me to fuck you?” He asks gruffly, his cock twitching in your tight grip.

“Fuck, Javi, you- yessssss.” You moan. Your cunt clenches every time he twitches and he’s thick enough that you will feel him after you’re done. “I want you to fuck me. Take your pants off and slide inside me.”

He nods, shifting off of the bed to push his pants down. He kicks them aside and his cock bounces as he walks over to the nightstand to get a condom out. He wants to make sure you’re protected, even from him. He rips it open and rolls it down his cock, shifting to kneel on the bed. “You sure you want me inside if you?” He asks, wanting to make sure you fully consent.

You spread your legs wider, nodding. “Fuck yes.” You moan. “Fuck me. Please fuck me.” You aren’t above begging at this point. You’ve cum, but you really want to see what he looks like when he falls apart.

He nods, shuffling closer between your thighs and he grips his cock, swiping it through your folds. He groans at the heat of you as he notches himself at your entrance and his eyes meet yours as he pushes inside of you. Slow, not wanting to hurt you. He shifts to press his weight onto his forearms as he hovers over you.

Your mouth drops open as he slowly fills you. Enjoying the slight pinch and the fullness he gives you. “Oh fuck, Javi.” You moan, eyes fluttering close and you slide your hand up his shoulder to pull him down for a kiss. “Move.”

He doesn’t disobey you. He kisses you as he starts to move, slowly pulling out of you and he pulls back to watch your face as he pushes back into you. “Want you to enjoy this. Every second. You tell me what you need.” He demands, rocking inside of you, a slow pace at first to let you get used to him.

“Want to feel you for days.” You whimper, wrapping your legs around him. “Fuck me hard. Like you would one of the other women you fuck.”

He shakes his head, “you’re not like the other women. You deserve more. You are more.” He says softly, his dark eyes sincere as he looks at you with something close to love but it’s not. Not yet. He starts to move again, rocking into you.

You don’t argue, you can’t when he’s moving inside you. Sensual with just a bit of roughness, it’s perfect. Making you moan every time his hips hit yours.

He loves hearing you moan. He leans down to kiss along your neck, his hips grinding against yours. He’s not as rough as he could be, not wanting to be the man the other sicarios thought he’d be with you. He wants to be soft and sensual. “Hermosa.” He murmurs against your neck, “you’re so fucking beautiful.”

There is a tenderness to his kisses on your skin that makes your eyes water. This man is truly better than anything you could have ever hoped for. Your arms tighten around him and your cunt squeezes him tight. “So handsome. I can’t believe that those men think you are the same as them. You aren’t.”

He doesn’t respond, knowing he’s done bad things to take down bad men, but now isn’t the time to explain that. He continues kissing along your skin, down your chest until he’s taking your nipple into his mouth. His hips move to push deep inside of you, switching the angle slightly as he tries to find that spot inside of you.

“Oh fuck- there!” You gasp out when he hits deep inside you and make your eyes fly open in pleasure. His cock hits against it again and you moan. Your fingernails dig into his skin and you scratch lightly, not wanting to draw blood.

With a groan, he focuses on that spot and he loves the way your nails dig into his back. His cock twitches inside of you and he shifts his weight onto one arm so he can snake his hand between you. He rubs your clit with his thumb, eyes on you to see what you like.

“Oh fuck.” Your mouth drops open in a moan before you close your eyes and your body arches up to his touch. “So good, fuck, you’re so good.” You whine. “We- we should have been doing this from the beginning.”

Javier groans in agreement, “yes but I didn’t want - I wanted you to trust me.” He says, kissing your sternum, “only want you to trust me.” He murmurs, “and now I want you to cum for me.” He rubs your clit a little faster, needing to feel and hear you cum.

“Oh yes, yesssss.” You whimper, feeling your entire body start to tense for your coming orgasm. Knowing that it’s only going to be a few seconds before you come apart underneath him and your breath catches in your throat.

Javier groans as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him and he knows he’s already addicted to you. He fucking loves it. He loves making you feel this way. He rocks you through it until you relax beneath him then he pulls out. “Hands and knees, baby.” He orders, wanting to make you cum again.

You can't believe that he's not already cum. Most guys don't last longer than a few minutes and you've already cum. The fact that he's still going has you moaning even as he's guiding you onto your stomach and pulling you up to your knees. Looking over your shoulder, you grin. "Smack my ass." You order, wiggling it at him. "I did go through your room."

Javier chuckles, “you’re a naughty girl.” He rubs your ass cheek before his palm comes down on it, smacking you hard. You moan and his cock twitches. He grips his cock, positioning himself at your entrance when you lean forward to wiggle your ass. He’s not gentle this time when he pushes into you with a groan.

"Oh fuck!" You choke out when your entire body lurches forward at the thrust of his cock. Punching deep and filling you completely with one harsh thrust. "More." You moan as soon as you can draw another breath. "Fuck me, Javi."

He doesn’t deny you. Grabbing your hips, his nostrils flaring as he starts to fuck you hard. His fingers digging into your skin as he grinds him cock deep inside of you. “Feel good?” He asks, wanting to make sure you’re enjoying this.

"Godddddd yes." You moan when he pushes deep again. "So good." Your head drops down to hang between your shoulder blades and you move down to your elbows. Letting him get even deeper with ever thrust of his hips.

He caresses your back as you shift forward before he smacks your ass with both hands, squeezing the cheeks. His thumb pushes between your cheeks to press against the puckered hole, groaning at the way it flutters with each push inside of you. Christ, he’s fucking drunk on you. The way you feel around him.

"Oh my god." Your eyes flutter wide and then you relax into the sensation of him pushing against that other hole easily. If anyone would breach you there, you would let it be him. "Fuck, Javi, whatever you want, please, just don't stop."

Hearing you say that has him nearly cumming but he holds back, slowly down a little. He likes that you trust him so much. He bends over, letting his spit dribble down between your cheeks so he can press his thumb into your hips while his cock continues moving inside of you.

You whimper when his pace changes, slowing down and you feel. every throbbing vein in his cock scrubbing against your walls. "Oh fuck." You whine, trying to push your hips back, but he as you pinned with his body. "So good."

He loves hearing you moan like this. “You’re doing so well, hermosa. Want you to cum for me again. Want you to soak my cock again.” He murmurs, kissing your shoulder as he leans over you. He’s slow but he wants you to feel all of him.

You grunt as he presses deeper. Feeling like he's pushed up into your throat at this angle. You choke out a moan and clench down around him. "I- just like that." You beg, loving how he's pushing deep.

He keeps the same pace and thrust, wanting to hear and feel you fall apart again. He groans softly when your walls clench around you he him as he pushes his thumb into your ass. “That’s it, baby girl. You gonna be good and cum for me?” He asks, voice raspy and deep with his own pleasure.

It shouldn’t affect you that bad. The way his voice dips down and his words twist in your stomach. “Yes.” You whine, tanging your fingers into the sheets. “Fuck, yes, I’m your good girl. I’m gonna cum.”

“Jesus.” He hisses at your words, his entire body vibrating with desire for you, and he pants as you grind back against him. “That’s it, hermosa. Thats it baby. Cum for me. Cum for me.” He pleads roughly and finally, you cry out. Your body shaking as you clamp down on his cock again and he thrusts into you, trying desperately to hold on but he pulls his thumb out and drags you up against his chest. His grunts in your ear as he picks up the pace, thrusting into you like a jackhammer as he gets closer to his own orgasm.

“Ja-Ja-Javiiiiiiiiiiii!” You squeal as he ramps up the pace, fucking into you roughly and you love it. Taking the harsh thrusts and knowing that the ache in your cunt will last beyond cleaning up. “Cum- cum in me.” You beg, even though you know he’s got a condom on. You still want to feel him fall over the edge. “Cum for me.”

He grunts, jaw clenched as his arm wraps around you and he squeezes your tit in his other hand. “Shit. Shit.” He pants as he thrusts fast and hard until he comes to a stop. A strangled groan escaping his lips as he pulses and fills the condom deep inside of you. His teeth sinking into your shoulder as he squeezes you close to his sweaty body.

The sharpness of his teeth make you clench around him again, milking his cock even more as you feel him ride out his high. “That’s it, baby.” You coo softly, turning your head and pressing your lips to his cheek.

He seeks out your lips, pressing his to yours and he slides his tongue into your mouth. His hands caressing your stomach down to your hips as you both take a second to enjoy your orgasms. He pecks your lips and lets go of you to reach down and grip the base of the condom before he slowly pulls out of you.

When he pulls out of you, your body melts into the bed. Slumping down and you huff out a chuckle as you try to catch your breath. “Holy shit.”

He quickly ties off the condom and leans down to kiss along your back as you recover. “Damn right.” He chuckles softly and shuffles off of the bed. He grabs his jeans and pulls them on before he walks into the bathroom to grab a wet rag to clean you up and then he tosses that onto the side when he settles down on the bed, leaning against the mattress. He reaches into the nightstand to grab his smokes and he wastes no time in lighting one.

You turn to look at him, stealing the cigarette and taking a drag. “Are you ready to go back to your real life?” You ask him seriously. You know that if he’s undercover, he has to be under a lot of pressure.

Javier sighs as he exhales the smoke. “I don’t even know what my real life is. All I know is that I need to take down Escobar. Nothing else matters except that. And I gotta get you home.” He adds, raising his eyebrows at you before he takes the cigarette back to take another drag.

“That’s comforting.” You snort, swinging your leg over his thighs and straddling him. “You will take him down.” You predict softly. “and until I go home, I’ll make sure this apartment is very….relaxing for you.” You promise with a grin, leaning down and kisses him right after he inhales the smoke.

He smirks and playfully nips your chin, shifting to snub out his smoke in the ashtray on the nightstand. “Yeah? Gonna make sure I have a nice warm pussy for when I’m coming home all cold and lonely?” He asks, his hands coming up to caress your waist.

“You fuck me like that?” You huff, grinding down on him. “You’re damned right. Freshly shaved and dripping for you.”

Javier clicks his tongue, “not bothered about the shaving. I’m a man of the 70s, baby. I ain’t afraid to get down and dirty.” He smirks and slides his hands lower to squeeze your ass. “You enjoy it?” He asks, licking his lower lip as he leans back to look at you, wanting an honest answer. He hasn’t paid you to moan for him. He wants to make sure you enjoyed it.

"Loved it." You admit easily, smirking down at him and cradling his face so you can kiss him again. It's fucking astonishing to find a man who is as good as he is under these circumstances. You should be terrified of him touching you, but you can't wait until he is wrecking you again. "Want to do it again. When you can."

Javier chuckles softly, caressing your skin. “I’m not eighteen anymore, baby. Gimme a while. Doesn’t mean I can’t get you off in the meantime.” He smirks and slides his hand lower until he’s cupping your pussy. You whimper and he rubs your clit, “God, you’re still so wet.” He murmurs, shifting to push two fingers inside of you.

“Oh fuck.” You whine, rocking onto his hand shamelessly. “You- you’re so fucking good at this.” You whimper, eyes sliding shut in pleasure. He’s not selfish and that makes you even wetter for him.

He smirks, loving the praise, and he curls his fingers deeper before pressing his thumb to your clit. “Take what you need baby. Ride my fingers.” He orders, loving the way your chest heaves and your eyes flutter shut.

This man is so sexy. You don’t know why he’s not been snatched up, because he’s also a good man despite what he says. You moan his name quietly and roll your hips down onto his hand eagerly. Wanting to obey him.

He watches you take what you want from him. Your hips grinding down on his digits and he curls them as you rock down. “That’s it baby. Take what you need. Wanna watch you cum again for me.” He murmurs, his dark eyes flicking between you and your pussy, his digits glistening when you lift up. “You’re so wet.” He murmurs again, a tinge of awe in his voice.

“You’re so sexy.” You hum, ducking your head down and nipping his jaw as you continue to rock in his hand. “Sexy, chivalrous, fuck, you turn me on with how fucking good to me you’ve been. And you’re an agent? Even sexier.”

His heart pounds at your compliments and he surges forward to press his lips to yours. His tongue slides against yours as you grind down onto his fingers and his thumb presses harder against your clit. “You’re fucking gorgeous.” He murmurs against your lips, “gonna keep you safe.” He vows, “gonna make sure no one touches you except me.”

You whimper into his mouth when his tongue slides against yours once more. You believe him. If he says you will be safe, then he will protect you. Your arms wrap around his neck and you pour yourself into the kiss, wanting to make this good for him too and he seems to really like kissing.

His groan is muffled by your tongue and he isn't in a rush to make you cum. His cock is interested but he's still not fully hard. His free hand finds your breast, squeezing it and pinching the nipple as you eagerly kiss him.

Shuddering, you press yourself into his hand harder, needing more. He's completely focused on you and you don’t think anyone has ever done that for you. You nibble on his lip when you pull back slightly and moan again when he curls his fingers up.

"That's it, hermosa. Can feel how close you are. Need you to fall apart for me. Can you do that? Can you cum?" He asks, murmuring against your chin as he pushes his fingers deep, slow, hard thrusts into your weeping cunt.

“Yes.” Your gasp of pleasure is one that is purely anticipatory. Knowing that you are about to cum again, your body tensing as you move closer. “Gonna cum for you.”

"That's it. That's it." He murmurs as seconds later, you clamp down on his fingers. "Good girl. Good fucking girl." He groans, loving the way you practically soak his hand and his jeans as you shake against him.

You collapse against his chest and pant as you try to catch your breath. Your body is still quaking and his fingers are still moving, although slower than they were before. Turning your head, you kiss along his neck lazily.

He withdraws his fingers after a few moments, his wet fingers squeezing your ass as he rocks you on his hardening cock while you kiss along his neck. "Fuck baby. Want me to fuck you again? Want you to ride me." He confesses when you pull back to look at him.

“I’ll ride you.” You nod, reaching down and palming his cock through his jeans. “You have another condom?” You ask breathlessly. “Want you to sit right here and relax while I make you feel good.”

He nods, reaching over to grab a condom from the nightstand and he hands it to you. "I'm yours to do what you want, hermosa." He promises, a groan escaping his lips when you pull him out of his jeans and squeeze him.

He’s gorgeously  uncut and you can’t help but slide down his body so you can take the head of his cock into your mouth. Wanting him to experience your mouth before you ride him. He moans and your tongue presses against the sensitive slit.

“Jesus Christ.” He hisses as you take him into your mouth. “Baby. God. I- fuck.” He groans when your eyes flick up to meet his. He’s a sucker for eye contact. It’s so sexy. You are so sexy. His cock twitches in your mouth and he swears he has to take a deep breath to control himself.

You want to make it good for him. Keeping your mouth soft and sensuous as you work him slightly deeper. Keeping your eyes on him since he seems to like that a lot. Your moan of approval when you taste the salty pre-cum reverberates around him and your hand starts to slowly pump the base of his cock while you bob your head.

"Fuck." He pants, reaching down to caress your cheek, "you're so fucking beautiful." He murmurs, "so fucking beautiful." He can't deny that you make him feel so much more than any other woman he's slept with in years. That scares him honestly.

You hum, sucking on him lightly and pulling off with a pop. “You want to cum down my throat, or do you want me to ride you?” You ask breathlessly. “Your choice baby.”

“Ride me.” He says, voice rough with desire as you slowly pump his cock. You nod and let go of his length. He shifts back against the headboard while you grab the condom and straddle his thighs.

Ripping the foil open, you pull out the rubber and pinch the tip while you roll it down his thick length. Making sure it’s secure, you pump him again while you shuffle forward and line your cunt up to sink down on him. Quickly taking him into your body with a loud moan of his real name.

He groans your name as you sink down onto him, his fingers finding your hips as you moan as he stretches you out. “God, baby girl. You feel so good.” He grunts, his hands sliding up to squeeze your tits as you settle onto him.

“You feel good.” You pant out breathlessly. Enjoying the hot hands on your tits as he pinches your nipples again. “Oh fuck, oh fuck Javi.” You whine, leaning back and letting your head fall back between your shoulders. “You’re so deep like this.”

He groans, his eyes flicking down to look at where he’s disappearing inside of you. “Jesus Christ, baby. You’re so good. Look so good.” He says as you lean back and he slides his hand across your stomach until he’s pressing his thumb against your clit.

“Fuck, Javi.” You whimper, your cunt clenching around him when he starts to rub small circles in your bundle of nerves. “You know every trick in the book, don’t you?”

He chuckles darkly, “had a lot of practice. Lost my virginity when I was fourteen.” He confesses while rubbing your clit a little faster. “Also, wanna see you cum. Like seeing you cum. You’re so gorgeous.” He reveals, leaning in to gently kiss along your shoulder.

“Hard not to feel gorgeous when I have your attention.” You admit with a sigh, enjoying the slight tickle of his mustache. “You should have a dozen kids by now.”

He snorts, “I’m careful. Always keep it wrapped and I haven’t had any accidents. Haven’t had anyone come forward yet. Why? You volunteering?” He asks with a smirk.

You moan softly, clenching down even as you grin. “That would be a conversation to have, wouldn’t it? Asking how you go together and having to explain that you knocked up the woman a drug dealer gave you. But she wanted you to.”

“Hell of a story.” He agrees, “I definitely don’t think you should get pregnant right now. I would have to kill every fucker in this goddamn country to protect you.” He says with a hiss.

Your brow arches up in surprise, you had expected him to laugh off your comment. Instead you hum in agreement and lean in to kiss his lips. “Agreed. The condom stays on.” You squeeze him again and bounce a little harder on his cock.

He’s a little relieved but also a little disappointed. He doesn’t deny that the idea of seeing you pregnant is tempting but it’s irresponsible. Beyond imagination. He has to keep you safe and that includes all aspects of your physicality. He groans when you bounce harder again. “Christ, baby.” He murmurs, “so fucking good.”

You can barely push out a light chuckle, so breathless from how his cock is hitting inside you. Deep and thick, he presses against all the wonderful spots that make your body tense every time you slam back down on his lap.

“That’s it. You gonna make yourself cum on my cock like a good girl?” He asks, licking his thumb again to press it to your clit as your hands press against his chest for balance. “So beautiful riding my cock like a goddamn rodeo.” He pants, “seen less professional ones in Texas.” He jokes breathlessly

“Ohhhh fuck!” You moan, jerking slightly at the pressure. “Yeah? You’re a Texas boy?” You ask, wanting to know more about him.

"Born and raised. Laredo." He reveals and he groans, "fuck. I- I need you to cum for me again, sweetheart. You - you're so fucking tight." He hisses when your walls flutter around his cock.

You whine, nodding as your hands brace on his broad shoulders. Increasing your pace until you are practically galloping on him. Moaning out his name until that last roll of your hips and your entire body stiffens and you scream his name.

He groans when you clamp down on his cock, your body putting him in a vice grip that he struggles to move within but he shifts onto his knees, your legs around his waist as he thrusts up into you. "Fuck. I- I'm gonna cum." He warns, unable to withhold like he did last time when you're so fucking tight around him and you sucking him off before. "Mierda. I - fuckkkk." He hisses as he bites down on your shoulder

You moan softly when you feel him throbbing inside you. “Thank you.” You whisper, closing your eyes and holding him close. “Thank you for caring for me, protecting me, satisfying me.” You know that it’s crazy but you turn your head and kiss his neck. “I’m falling in love with you.”

Normally, Javier would be shit scared. He would've been running for the hills hearing those words but he can't run away from you. Especially when he feels the same way, it's terrifying. To have something - someone - to lose when he's fighting for his life in this undercover mission. One wrong move and he's dead. You're dead. It puts everything on the line but in this moment, he doesn't give a fuck. He pulls back from you to look you in the eye. "I feel the same. We shouldn't. So much at risk but fuck, I love you." He murmurs, voice rough with emotion.

You know that it’s probably the proximity, that once you leave, he will never think of you again, but you smile into his neck and sigh happily. Your fingers caressing his back gently. “Good.” You hum, basking in the moment and stealing every second of joy life will give you. “That’s good, baby.”

****

A few weeks go by and you're settled in a routine. You sleep in Javier's bed at night...well, try to sleep after he fucks you. Then you spend your days reading and waiting for Javier to return home. One day, he comes back and you greet him with a kiss but he doesn't seem enthusiastic. "What's wrong?" You ask and his dark eyes look sad as he holds up the passport in his hand. 

"Got your fake passport. You're booked on the first flight home in the morning." He says, swallowing harshly.

“Oh.” Your heart drops and you immediately have to look away from him, eyes watering. You don’t want to go, as crazy as that sounds. It’s dangerous and he’s undercover, so you can’t stay, but you don’t want to. “Well, I- I guess that tonight is our last night together.” You try to sound stoic but it falls flat. “You’ll be happy to not worry about me.”

Javier shakes his head, throwing the passport down on the table nearby and he grabs your waist to pull you into his chest. Burying his nose in your hair, he breathes you in. “Don’t want you to go. I want to stay here in this apartment with you and forget about the rest of the world but it’s dangerous here, hermosa. I can’t lose you and if something happened - fuck - no. You need to go. You need to be safe and I’m gonna try to take that bastard down.”

“You will take him down.” Javi has been opening up to you, finding it cathartic to have someone know that he’s not the monster that the men he is with are. Your arms hold him tight and you try not to cry. “You will, just like you kept me safe.”

He kisses your hair before he kisses your forehead. His nose nudges yours and he tilts your head up to press his lips to yours. He needs to know you’re safe. It’s more important than his love for you. He can love you from afar. He doesn’t want to love you from a grave site. He deepens the kiss, suddenly getting urgent with need for you as he pushes you up against the wall, his tongue sliding into your mouth.

You feel the change in the mood, from sad to desperate and you understand completely. If you are leaving, you want this time with him, you need it. The chances are that you will never see him again. Your hands move, desperately ripping open his button on the shirt he is wearing, scattering them across his apartment.

He groans into your mouth, practically devouring you, and he drags the dress you’re wearing up your body, reluctantly pulling back to pull it over your head and it’s soon on the floor. No words are spoken as he kisses your neck and cups your tits, glad you have taken to not wearing a bra in his apartment.

Your fingers push the stretched fabric of his shoulders and let it fall, attacking his belt next. He doesn’t wear underwear, so the second you can, you are wrapping your fingers around his cock and moaning when you find him already hard.

“Shit.” He hisses as you squeeze his cock and his fingers hook in your panties. He isn’t patient. He can’t wait to push them down so he’s ripping them from your body with a groan. “Fuck. Need you.” He rasps, grabbing your thighs to lift you up against the wall. “Put me in.” He orders, his cock throbbing in your grip.

You whimper his name, finding his need for you utterly intoxicating and you notch his cock against your entrance eagerly. Gasping when he doesn’t hesitate to bury himself to the hilt. No gentleness, just pure need.

He’s driven by desire, love, and desperation. He doesn’t want to lose you but he can’t be selfish. You deserve to feel safe and you need to go home. He can’t follow you and he can’t let everything he’s worked so hard for you down the drain. He groans your name and leans in to press his lips against yours as his body keeps you pressed against the wall until he starts to move his hips.

You whimper his name, clinging to him like he’s going to disappear if you let go. “I’m yours.” You promise raggedly against his lips. “All yours, make me yours.”

He loves the way you cling to him. He thrusts into you, desperate and sloppy but passionate. “Mine. Like I’m yours baby. Fuck. You’re mine.”

“Yes, yours all yours.” You pant, desperate for him to know it, to believe it. His hips slam into yours and drives you into the wall to make you moan at the roughness of it. “More, baby, I need more.”

Javi groans, his fingers digging into your thighs as he works you on his cock, lifting you up and down as he pushes you into the wall. “Fuck. Tell me what you need.” He demands, “rub your clit.”

“Just you.” You squeal breathlessly, reaching down and rubbing your clit. “Just need you. Just you baby, your cock is so good. So perfect inside me. I love you.”

“Oh fuck Javi, Javi, JAVIIIIIIIII!” You scream out in pleasure when your body locks up, core clenching down around him and soaking him with your cum. Shaking against the wall while he continues to pound into you and draw out your orgasm.

He swears his heart stops when you clamp down on his cock. “Fuck yes. That’s it baby. That’s fucking it.” He growls, loving the way you grip him and soak him and he pushes deep, “fuck. I- I gotta pull out.” He murmurs, remembering he didn’t put on a condom.

“Don’t.” You whimper, wanting to feel him just once. “I’m about to start my period.” You are, you aren’t lying to him. You should be completely safe for him to fill you up this once. “Want to feel you. Keep you with me.”

He doesn’t deny you. He groans as he thrusts hard, pushing deep inside of you a half dozen more times before he cums. He pants just before he bites down on your shoulder. “Fuck. I love you” is muffled into your skin.

Your eyes roll back and you whine at the feeling that is swimming around inside you. Enjoying the heat and wetness as he paints your walls with spurts of his hot cum. “Love you too.”

He kisses everywhere he can reach. Your nose, your cheeks, your forehead, your chin, and finally your lips. “Te amo.” He chokes into your mouth, hating that he has to let you go. He’s terrified of you forgetting all about him. He loves you. He loves you more than he ever thought possible and he’s going to leave you.

“I love you too, Javi.” You can’t help but start to cry. They are silent tears, ones that just express how badly you want to stay with him. A far cry from the woman screaming to go home not so long ago. “I don’t want to eat. I just want to go to bed, baby.” You beg. “Take me to bed.”

He doesn’t pull out of you. Instead, he carries you into the bedroom and lays you down on the bed. He’s gentle, caressing your body and he pulls out of you as he shifts to lay between your thighs. He stares at the mess he made looking at your entrance, cum threatening to drip out, and he can’t help it. He surges forward to slide his tongue between your folds.

Shuddering, you moan his name while your fingers run through his hair. You’ve learned that Javi has no problem with doing what he wants and he obviously wants to touch you like this, unconcerned with his cum between your thighs. “Fuck. I love you. I don’t want to go.”

He pulls back for a moment to say “I don’t want you to go but you have to.” He dives back in a few moments later, his tongue ravenous and carving indistinct paths while he tries to memorize every tiny detail about you.

Your moans fill the room, soft and sweet. He’s taking his time, not rushed a bit as if you have all the time in the world rather than just tonight. He reaches up and twines his fingers with yours, holding your hand as he continues to take you apart with his tongue.

He wants to burn your moans into his memory, carve your taste into his tongue, he needs to remember every single detail about you before he lets you go to return to safety. He’s slow and methodical as he pulls you apart stroke by stroke, uncaring of the salty taste of his cum combined with your tangy juices that make him go crazy.

You’re there forever, legs spread while he feasts. Time seems to suspend into nothing and your breath catches and never recovers. Making every moment drag out as your body burns and twists on itself until your orgasm snaps through you, sharp and bright, cunt gushing all over his face when he presses his thick fingers deep into your walls.

Javier groans into your clit, loving how you are clamping down on his digits. "Fuck baby. That's it." He murmurs into your flesh as you shake above him. He works you through, his fingers squelching with your combined cum.

Panting, you try to close your legs, overstimulated and nearly sobbing from the pleasure. He kisses your thigh and grins up at you. “Want another?” He asks and you shake your head. “I just want you.”

He snakes up your body, kissing every inch of skin he passes, until he is pressing his lips to yours. "I love you, hermosa." He murmurs, nudging his nose against yours as he settles beside you and pulls you into his side.

“I love you too.” You sigh softly, your hand splayed over his heart and you kiss his chest. “I know you won’t be able to call me, but I’ll be thinking about you. Hoping you’re safe. Praying you are.” You know he can’t promise you anything, this is just a flash in the pan for him, and he will go back to his normal life after he catches Escobar. “You’ve saved my life, Javier.”

He sighs, “I did what was right. I have fucked up a lot on my life but I couldn’t let you be abused or worse. You were something special from the moment I saw you. I’m just - all I ask is that when you get home, you’re happy. Be happy.” He pleads softly, wanting to know that this hasn’t all be in vain.

You want to tell him that you won’t be happy unless you are with him, but you can’t. Not when it’s not what he wants to hear. “I will, Javi.” Reaching up, you caress his cheek. “I can be happy because of you, amor.”

Javi’s dark eyes meet yours and he swallows harshly, “good.” He murmurs and brushes his lips against yours. All he wants is for you to be safe and happy…even if that isn’t with him. 

****

Javier glances around the airport, worried that a sicario or two have followed him. Steve is in the terminal with another agent to make sure he has back up just in case. Your passport was accepted without question and won’t be flagged by one of the informants for Escobar who works at the airport. He bites his lip as he sets your suitcase down at the gate. Your eyes are already watery and he fights the instinct to just take you back home but he can’t. You have to go.

“This is it.” You bite your lip, aware that you shouldn’t cry but you can’t even help it. You’re doing good not bawling your eyes out. Glancing around the airport, no one seems to be watching you, but you look back at Javi. “Can I kiss you?” You plead softly. “One more time? Or is it not safe?” The last thing you want to do is to put him in danger, but you can’t imagine boarding this plane without kissing him goodbye.

Javier can’t deny you. Hell, he can’t deny himself. He reaches for you, grabbing your waist to drag you against him. His lips immediately find yours and he groans into your mouth as he pours every thing he’s felt for you into this last kiss. He doesn’t care if anyone is watching. He needs to do this, he needs you to know how he feels.

It’s a goodbye kiss. A kiss that is desperate and yearning and bittersweet. The saltiness of your tears mixes with the whiskey and nicotine from Javi’s tongue. You hold him close and kiss him back just as desperately until you are unable to think about anything but him.

He isn’t sure how long he kisses you, but soon the tannoy announces that your flight is about to board. He pulls back, pecking your lips, and he leans back to look at you, his hands caressing your waist. “It’s time to go, baby.” He says, letting go of you and your hands clench in the air as if to keep holding him. His heart is pounding in his chest but he has to let you go. “Be good. Be happy.” He demands softly, kissing your forehead as your row is called.

Walking away from Javier is the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. Looking back at him until you can’t see him anymore, you bite back a sob as you collapse into your seat. You’re free, but at what cost when you are separated from the man you love?

**** 

It’s been a year and Javier has no clue if you’ve moved on. Maybe you’ve found a new guy. You could be married. The thought makes his stomach twist but he’s here. He tracked you down using his contacts and he’s here to see if you still feel the same way. He does. The former Casanova of Bogotá has been celibate since you left, wanting to focus on taking down Escobar. He fucked up. Got involved with Los Pepes and got sent home before he could take down Escobar but he’s here and he doesn’t want to focus on his failure. He swallows harshly and takes a deep breath before he rings your doorbell.

You sigh as you hear the doorbell, looking over at the door and contemplating not answering but you can’t do that. Wiping your hands on the kitchen towel, you walk over to the door and flip the lock to open the door. Since you’ve been back, you’ve settled back into life with only a few hiccups. Memories of your time in Colombia are now bittersweet, the good far overshadowing the bad.

Javier shifts from one foot to the other as you open the door and he offers you a half smile. “Hola hermosa.” He says, fingers flexing as he prepares for your reaction.

Eyes wide, your mouth drops open in shock. You never expected to see Javier again. Not really. You had convinced yourself it was that Stock-ham, whatever, you had read about. That it was just a fling for him and that you had imagined yourself in love with him. One sentence, two words from the man, a year later would prove that was a lie. “Javi!”

He stares at you, heart pounding as he prepares himself for your reaction until you fling yourself forward and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your lips to his. He groans into your mouth, loving how you feel in his arms, pulling you so close you can barely breathe.

You don’t care that it’s been a year. That you haven’t heard from him and that you’ve wondered if he’s been dead or alive this entire time. Scouring the news for any information about Escobar and the entire ordeal down in Colombia.

He kisses you over and over until finally he pulls back and looks at you with love in his eyes. “You been good?” He asks and you nod, still speechless that he’s found you. “I, uh, I got sent home. Fucked up and got involved with the wrong people but I’m here and I- I still love you.”

“I can’t believe you are here.” When you find your tongue, you’re reaching out. Touching him in disbelief and for one horrible moment, you are convinced it’s a dream. “I’ve missed you. So much. You really still love me? It wasn’t just….circumstance?”

Javier reaches for your wrist, kissing your pulse. "I still love you. I haven't - I haven't been with anyone since you left. I fought hard to get Escobar so I could come home and find you." He admits, "I love you. I still love you."

“Oh baby.” You whimper quietly, melting against him. “I love you too. I never stopped, I couldn’t stop. You- you are the love of my life and I’m grateful Escobar gave me to you.”

Javier cups your cheeks and nudges his nose against yours. “I’m here baby. I’m here and I ain’t leaving. I love you.” He murmurs, closing his eyes as he breathes you in. 

**** 

“Fuck Jav.” You moan as your hips rock up to meet his mouth. It’s early, the sky just changing colors with the rising sun, and Javi woke up eager to have you. He’s been at your home ever since he got back from Colombia. He took you to Texas to go to Danny’s wedding and to meet his Pa. He even got his mom’s ring from his dad but you don’t know that yet. His fingers curl deep inside of you as he sucks on your clit and the phone starts to ring. “Shit.” You hiss, trying to push his head away but he pulls back to growl “leave it.” 

You pant, “it might be - fuck - important. It’s early.” You tell him but he ignores you, focusing again on making you cum. The phone rings again, “Javi.” You whine, hand reaching for the receiver but he slaps it down with his free hand, silently telling you to leave it again. His fingers push deeper and he can tell you’re close. His digits curl just right and you clamp down, crying out his name just as the phone rings again. He works you through it as much as he can before he’s pulling his soaked fingers out of you and grabbing the phone from the cradle. “Why the fuck are you calling so early?” He growls down the phone without asking who it is. 

“Agent Peña.” The official voice makes him sit up. “Yeah?” He asks, voice raspy. 

“The Cali Cartel. It’s time. You’re reassigned back to Colombia. I’ll call later with your flight details.” The line goes dead and he stares at it, unable to respond or say anything at all.

“What-“ you sit up and frown as he stares at the phone. “Baby, who was that?” You ask, worried that something is wrong. You know they’ve captured Escobar, Javi had gotten the news from Steve, getting drunk that night and pulling you apart for hours as fucked through his emotions.

Javier swallows, setting the phone back down and he closes his eyes for a second, unable to look at you. “I’ve been reassigned. They want me back in Colombia to take down Cali.” He reveals, his heart aching.

You hear it in his tone, he wants to go. “Oh.” Pulling the sheet over your body, you sit up, watching him start to pull away from you. “Then you have to go.” You decide, pushing away your own heartache. “They are giving you a second chance, to do it right this time. You have to go.”

Javier is torn. He wants to do it right. Take down Cali the right way and redeem himself. Yet he also doesn’t want to lose you. “I- I don’t know.” He confesses, knowing you won’t wait for him again. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Javi.” You cup his cheeks and press your lips to his. “You go to Colombia and you do what you need to do.” You tell him softly. “You want to go….so go.”

“I don’t want - I can’t leave you. I don’t want to be gone and come back to find you’ve moved on. I know we love each other but I can’t ask for you to wait for me again. I want…I want you to come with me.” He says, even though he knows the risks. He can protect you.

“W-What? Come- come with you?” You hadn’t even considered it a possibility. “The DEA would let you bring me? How?” You can’t imagine they would want to have some random civilian in the country and possibly in danger.

He nods, "Steve brought Connie. She - she was a civilian." He explains, "I don't want to lose you." He confesses, "Do you want to come with me?"

“Connie’s Steve’s wife.” You remind Javi softly. “Of course I want to come with you, but I don’t think the DEA will let you bring your girlfriend.” You admit. “You aren’t going to lose me.”

He swallows harshly, knowing you’re not wrong. “They might not let me bring my girlfriend but they’d let me bring my fiancée.” He says and you frown, “fiancée?” He sighs, opening the bedside table to grab the velvet box he had hidden in there. “I was going to take you to dinner on Friday. Make it romantic but - but I don’t want to wait.” He confesses and your eyes widen. He shifts to kneel at the edge of the bed in front of you. “You came into my life so unexpectedly and I- I don’t regret saving you from Escobar. You were the missing piece of me that I didn’t know was gone. You make me so damn happy and I know I’m bad with words but I love you with every fiber of my being. I’d do anything to keep you safe, to make you happy. Will you marry me?” He asks, opening the box.

“Jav- I-“ your throat closes as your eyes fill with tears, looking down at your love on his knee as he asks you to marry him. “Yes! Yes! Yes! I will marry you.” Launching yourself forward, you crash into him, needing to kiss him once more to remind you that this isn’t a dream.

He kisses with a smile on his lips, pouring every ounce of love he feels for you into the kiss. He pulls back after a second to get the ring out of the box. He remembers proposing to Lori and he didn’t really feel much at the time, doing it out of obligation. Right now, he’s asking you to marry him because he loves you with all of him. He takes the ring out and takes your shaking hand, sliding the ring onto your left hand.

“It’s beautiful, amor.” You gasp, looking down at the ring in awe. It really is beautiful, but beyond that, it’s the realization that Javi wants to spend the rest of his life with you. “I love it and I love you.” You promise, leaning in to kiss him again. “My fiancé.”

**** 

Javier looks out across the ocean, the sun is about to set and he clears his throat as the breeze makes the linen shirt he’s wearing blow up slightly. “She’s here.” The officiant announces and Javier exhales shakily, turning away from the water to see an even more exquisite sight. 

God, you take his breath away. Walking towards him wearing a white sundress, he swears his heart is about to pound out of his chest. When you stand before him, he reaches for your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. “You look gorgeous, baby.” He murmurs when he stands up straight but keeps your hand in his.

“I didn’t know you were such a romantic.” You admit, amazed by the beautiful, small wedding he had insisted on. It was gorgeously simple and yet the pinks and oranges streaking across the sky is something that could have never been replicated in a fancy church somewhere. “I love you so much.”

Javier smiles, “I love you too.” He takes your hands as you stand beside him and the officiant begins the ceremony. His stomach is twisting but not with nerves, it’s butterflies and excitement. Knowing that after this, you’ll be his wife. He never imagined he’d settle down but you changed that for him. He can’t imagine a day without you now. He squeezes your hands when you recite the vows and he proudly declares “I do” when asked if he wants to take you as his wife. The rest of the ceremony seems like a blur until the officiant says “you may now kiss the bride.” He surges forward to press his lips to yours, your rings shining on your finger as the sun disappears beyond the horizon. “I love you.” He murmurs into your mouth before he kisses you again.

Smiling against his lips, you sigh softly. “I love you too.” You never expected to find the love of your life when you had been kidnapped and given to one of the world’s most famous drug dealers in the world’s sicarios. It could have turned out to be your worst nightmare, but it ended up being your dream come true.

[magpiepills]

DIY

Rating: EXPLICIT! 18+ ONLY! MDNI

Pairing: Javier Peña x AFAB reader

Word count: 1.6k

Summary: You need to get fucked, but Javi is feeling lazy and makes you take matters into your own hands.

Warnings: Smut- PIV, unprotected sex (don’t actually do that.) oral (m receiving) smoking, slightly mean Javi, slightly dom Javi, Lazy Javi, no use of y/n no age gap specified, smoking, alcohol consumption, big dick Javi,

A word from the author: I wrote this after I saw those gifs that @palioom posted, and lusting over reclined, smoking Javi with @secretelephanttattoo

Word Count 1.6k

You walked back into the bedroom to find Javi still dressed, not even bothering to take off his jacket. He was just reclined, lit cigarette clutched protectively with the embers toward his wide palm.

You’d waited all day to have him to yourself, and now that you’re finally home, you can’t wait any longer. You’d changed out of your work clothes into something more comfortable and let his eyes rove over you, in a tank top that stretched obscenely over your tits and left little to the imagination, and silky red panties with a little bow on the front, and thin strips of elastic low on your hips connecting the front and back.

Javi’s eyes were dark, and he smirked almost imperceptibly as he nodded.

“What is it, cariño?” He knew exactly what you wanted, but he was going to make you work for it. “Something on your mind?”

You had no time for his games.

“Just you, Javi.”

“Me?” He was playing dumb now. Cute.

“Mhm. You know I needed you all day. You didn’t text me back.”

“Had a busy day, now I’m kind of tired.”

“But I need you, Javi.” You were leaning over him now, your left hand sinking into the plush white leather of the chair that he referred to as “the cuck chair” because of how it was angled toward the bed. With your other hand you started unbuttoning his shirt and slipping your hand inside to run his warm chest.

“Said I'm tired, baby.” If he wants you to beg, you’ll beg. You’d do anything for him tonight. You’d been soaked all day, squeezing your thighs in vain as you thought of him fucking you for all he was worth, stretching and filling you until you were so fucked out you didn’t know your name. You were desperate now, and he knew that. He knew it from the way you’d texted him at 10 am, a picture of your skirt hiked up to expose your lace panties, fingers splayed over your seam, and a short caption “all yours.”

“If you want it, you have to work for it.” Luckily, you liked a challenge. You climbed into his lap and unbuckled his belt while you kissed his neck and along his jaw, just slightly scratchy. You wiggled and simpered, breathing into his ear as you told him how you couldn’t concentrate at work because you needed his big dick so bad. He knew he was gifted but you knew he liked hearing you say it. You finished unbuttoning his shirt and worked open the button and zipper on his dark jeans. You smiled into his kiss when you felt his hard length straining against his boxers, but you kept your hands around his neck.

When he still refused to give you anything to work with, wouldn't touch you, just let you kiss him and slowly try to undress him as much as possible, you gave him a pout and sank to your knees between his legs. He watched as you peeled off your tank top and palmed your own breasts, pulling at your nipples and pinching them until they were still and sensitive, eyes locked on the only man who could give you what you needed.

Javi looked on with what may look like disinterest, but his voice had dropped just a bit deeper since the little game began. “That all you got? Just gonna play with your tits?” He asked as he blew a cloud of smoke into the air over your head.

“Javi, you’re so mean to me. You know I want you.”

“I’m right here. If you want it, take it.” His voice was level, but the way his lips were parted and his chest rose and fell betrayed him.

The carpet was soft and thick but still burned your knees as you rose to pull his jeans open further. Javi lifted his hips just enough to let you pull down his jeans and boxers past his hips before settling back in, lazily puffing at his cigarette between sips of whiskey from a wide glass. His cock spring free and you could see where the sparse hair along his hip had been smeared with precum. It gave you a small bit of satisfaction knowing he was enjoying himself.

You took a moment to marvel at him. His cock was big, leaning to the left a bit, heavy and tan, with a smooth foreskin covering the head. It was a beautiful dick, you both knew it. People often called Javier Peña cocky, but if they only knew…

Sucking just the head into your mouth, you took your time swirling your tongue around it, smoothing your tongue over the slit, sucking gently. Looking up through your eyelashes, you saw Javi’s brows knit together, and you pulled away to let a long line of saliva drip from your already swollen lips down over his cock. There was a soft groan from above you when you wrapped your hand around his thick cock and pumped up and down in a tight glide before replacing your hand with your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing up and down before slowly pushing as far as you could, just to the point of gagging. You knew he loved coming down your throat, and you loved how he looked when you opened your mouth to show him that you’d swallowed every drop.

You didn’t do that, though. Instead you stood up, took the glass from his hand and sat it on the coffee table, then tugged his pants down, letting them pool at his ankles, not even bothering with his shoes. You just needed him exposed. If he wasn’t willing to do any work it didn’t matter anyway. Once he was as bare as he was going to get, you admired your work.

His chest and neck were flushed, his cock was hard and throbbing, and his arm was dropped uselessly over the arm of the chair, still clutching the smoldering cigarette.

“Still tired, Javi? Ready to go to bed?” You stood in nothing but the red panties with the obvious wet spot, “Cause if you are, we can stop.”

The annoyed look he shot you told you all you needed to know. You pushed your panties down your legs and took a step forward until one of his legs was between your own. His gaze was locked on your hand as you cupped your pussy, sliding two fingers through your dripping folds. Enough was enough. “Come here, cariño.” He murmured, finally relenting just the smallest bit, but it was enough for you.

You settled yourself on his lap, knees on either side of his narrow hips, and rubbed your slick onto his cock. Satisfied that you were ready to take him, you guided his cock through your folds, teasing your clit, before notching him at your entrance and sliding down him as slow as you could, until you were fully seated. javis hands found their place on your hips, gently guiding you to rock back and forth until you were acclimated to the stretch. “Fuck me. Fuck you’re so tight” he gritted out between clenched teeth. “Take it, baby. Take what you need. Ride my cock. Want to see you come all over it. Come on.” He was beginning to sound desperate.

You picked up your pace, bouncing gently, rolling your hips, grinding your clit against his pubic bone, relishing in the sensation of being so full. Javi watched you fuck yourself on his cock, and cupped your tits, rubbing his thumbs over your peaked nipples while he told you how good you were doing for him. “That’s right, sweetheart. Just like that. Yeah. Yeah, oh fuck. Look so good like this.” You loved when he got talkative. His deep voice, his rough hands on your tits, his cock filling you to the brim, his coarse hair rubbing your clit just right reached a sudden crescendo that washed your orgasm over you like a wave. Your body jerked and your eyes were shut tight, lips in a silent o.

As you came down, your body felt light and boneless, nearly forgetting that there was a man under you who probably wanted to get off too. It didn’t take much, luckily. You braces yourself on his knees and leaned back, giving him a perfect unobstructed view of where your bodies met, letting him see how wet and swollen you were for him. You spread your knees wide and carefully lifted as far off of him as you could, leaving just the tip, before squeezing him tight and taking him all the way back in. You continued, and wiggled your hips a little, and as you worked up and down his length, you moved a little fast, a little harder, wet sticky sounds grew a little louder. “Goddamn. I’m close. Fuck. Fuck I’m going to come. Where do you want it?”

Javi really liked painting you with cum. It didn’t matter where, your tits, your face, your stomach, your ass, he loved seeing you wearing it. “Like a badge.” He said. You thought of telling him to cum on your pussy. It would have been easy. Instead though, you circled your hips and sighed- “inside.” It took Javi a best to register when you said, but when he did, he grabbed your hips firmly and thrust up hard. In moments he was spilling into you, rope after rope of his thick white cum.

Panting and covered in a thin layer of sweat, Javi held you against his chest, rubbing your back, gently squeezing your thigh, both of you catching your breath.

“That what you needed?”

“Yeah Javi. That was it.”

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Fever

Summary: You're ovulating- It's that time of month where you find yourself turning into an unspeakably horny monster with just one problem that Javi knows exactly how to help you fix.

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 4.7K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also, who am I to say?) oral (m and f receiving), vaginal fingering, paise kink, an unspeakably explicit breeding kink (I ain't sorry about it), creampie, cum play, talks of starting a family, calling Javi "Daddy" and meaning it (help), the sweetest softest sex, yet somehow the filthiest, nastiest sex at the same time??? god these two love each other so much it makes me SICK

A/N: ... If you know me, no you don't. I'm so sorry y'all, I am ovulating and absolutely FERAL, I am truly thinking that someone may need to come put me down at this point because.... yeah... raise your hand if you're surprised Madeline has yet another story with Javier Peña and a big, fat, nasty breeding kink?! Oh look!! It's no one!!! ANYWHO, don't mind me while I foam at the mouth for the next 24-48 hours, BYEEEEEEEEEE

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

If there was one thing that you knew about Javi, it was that he was one of the most handsome, attractive men you had ever met. 

His dark, curly hair. 

His mustache. 

His sweet brown puppy dog eyes. 

His absolutely incomprehensible shoulder to waist ratio. 

Your husband had it all. That, you knew for a fact. 

Truth be told, there wasn’t really much that you ever thought Javi could do to be hotter than he already was. 

That was until a few months ago, when you had recently stopped taking your birth control and you could quite literally feel yourself morph into the insatiably feral, horny mess that you became when you were ovulating. 

And when that was the case, not only was he the hottest man you had ever laid eyes on in your entire life, you were quite literally ready to rip his clothes right off of him at every single opportunity possible. 

You could practically feel the change in your body when you woke up this morning- the soft sunlight of Saturday morning spilling through your curtains as you rolled over to see Javi, mouth slightly agape as he snored, face buried in his pillow and messy brown curls flopping over his head. 

God, does he always look this hot when he sleeps? You thought to yourself, slowly stirring awake, stretching your arms over your head before creeping out of bed to make yourself some coffee to bring back upstairs with you while you waited for Javi to wake up. 

As the bittersweet aroma and quiet, rhythmic drip of the coffee hitting the bottom of the pot began to gently rouse you from your sleepy state, you couldn’t help but shake the warm, stirring sensation in your stomach from the image of Javi sleeping next to you in bed. 

Elbows propped up against the counter, chin resting in your palms, you closed your eyes, picturing him- His sweet soft smile as you kissed his plush lips, the way his big hands roamed across your hips and back as he pulled you closer to his chest, the bulge of his cock pressed against your thigh before he- 

“What are you doing up, cariño?” Javi’s soft and sleepy voice cooed as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his chest to your back as he planted a gentle kiss on your shoulder, his presence enough to snap you out of your daydream, but not enough to shake the dull ache that had been growing between your legs from the moment you woke up. 

“I was just gonna make some coffee and bring it back up to bed. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up, baby.” You sighed, a smirk growing between your cheeks as you turned around to face him, Javi now caging you between his body and the counter as his hands splayed planted on either side of you. He looked down at you with his half-awake gaze and sleepy smile, still in nothing but his boxers, his tanned skin and barely there freckles glowing in the morning sunlight creeping through your kitchen window. 

“Don’t apologize, mi amor. Just wanted to know where my wife was. Glad I found her.” He chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, only pulling away to quietly whisper, “Good morning, hermosa.” 

And while it was nothing but a simple good morning kiss, the way Javi’s lips met yours sent a spark off inside you, quickly leaning back to pull him closer to you as you draped his arms around his neck, a soft moan escaping from your parted mouth, feeling a grin growing across Javi’s face in response. 

“Mhmmm, well, a very good morning to you then. My bedhead and morning breath really doin’ it for you, huh?” Javi smirked, lowering his hands to rest on your hips, gently toying with the waistband of your sleep shorts. 

“Sorry, I uh- you just, God, you look really good this morning. Can we, um, ya know, maybe go back upstairs?” You stammered, so enamored with Javi’s presence that you could barely get a coherent thought out as you stared up at your husband, already feeling a damp patch beginning to grow in your underwear, stomach churning with arousal. 

“Yeah? Mi esposa muy dulce (my sweet wife), you want me to-” 

Ring, ring, ringggggg. Ring, ring, ringggggg. Ring, ring, ringggggg

“Who the fuck is calling me this early…” 

Javi’s face scrunched in frustration at the sound of his cell phone ringing on the kitchen counter, reaching over you to see the expression in his face shift to concern as he read the caller ID, quickly opening up his phone to answer. 

“Hey, Pops. What’s goin’ on? Everything okay? Again? Fuck… Yeah, just um- shit, yeah, I’ll be over in 30. Okay. Yup. Yeah, bye Pops.” Javi let out a deep sigh, running his hands over his face and through the sleep curled ends of his dark hair, his grumpy pout telling you that your morning was not going to go the way you thought it was 30 seconds ago. “The gate that Pops had installed last week fell down overnight and now all the cows are loose in the pasture… I gotta go over there and help him put it back up before it gets even worse. I’m so sorry, Hermosa.” 

“It’s okay.” You shrugged, trying your best to mask your horny disappointment. 

“It hopefully shouldn’t take that long. I should be back before lunchtime, okay? And when I get back, if you still want,” he paused, letting his palm slide along your jaw, cradling your cheek before pressing another soft kiss onto your lips, “We can pick up where we left off.” 

“Promise?” You smirked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Yo prometo (I promise).” 

Wanting to give Javi any chance of leaving the house without trapping him in your bedroom, you tried your best to keep yourself busy while he quickly got ready and grabbed his things to head to the Peña Ranch, giving him a quick kiss goodbye before watching him back out of your driveway in his truck, the image of him with one hand behind the passenger seat at the other with his palm to the steering wheel making you just about drop to your knees for reasons you thought you couldn’t explain. 

You hoped that with Javi gone, you could at least be a little productive in getting some things done around the house before he returned, but it seemed like with everything that you did and anywhere you went in your house, you couldn’t help but find more reasons to add to the insatiable desire building in your core. 

While you were trying to make breakfast, you couldn’t help but stare at Javi’s favorite coffee mug, the Empire Strikes Back cup he had claimed as his at your apartment when you had first started dating.  You couldn’t keep yourself from imagining the width of his huge hands wrapping around it, dwarfing the mug in his grasp, thinking about how good those same hands would feel all over you. 

After that, came trying to do the laundry, where you caught yourself sniffing Javi’s shirts, the overpowering and familiar scent of his cologne and sweat seeping through the fabric, driving you absolutely crazy, wishing you could find a way to drown in his scent. 

Finally, in your very valiant effort to try and make your bed, you found yourself laying face down in Javi’s pillow, somehow leaving the sheets and comforters tangled and tossed about worse than you had found them. 

“What the fuck is wrong with me today…”  You whispered to yourself, now sitting on the couch, mindlessly flipping through the channels on your TV, somehow still even hornier than you were when you woke up this morning. You let your gaze wander away from the TV, examining the walls of your family room until you landed on your wedding photos hung across your wall, smiling to yourself as you looked at the portraits, reliving the moments of the happiest day of your life. 

It wasn’t until you glanced at one of the photos of you and Javi surrounded by your family in a candid moment where Javi had hoisted your niece on his hip to dance with her during your reception, the image making your stomach flip with an overwhelming need. After doing the quick math in your head, it hit you like a thousand pound ton of bricks why you had been so worked up all goddamn day. 

You were ovulating, and you needed Javi to put a baby into you right now.  

As if the universe had magically heard your prayers, you turned your head to hear your garage door opening and the familiar stomp of Javi’s boot covered footsteps trudging down the hallway. Like a moth to a flame, your heart began to race as you watched Javi’s broad body approach you, your jaw practically dropping at his appearance. 

Javi was now glistening with a light sheen of sweat, his curls sticking to his damp forehead, and the sleeves of his button down shirt now rolled up past his elbows, the buttons once done up to near his neck before he left now trailing open to the middle of his chest, exposing the warm glow of his tanned skin underneath. 

“Hey hermosa, I’m home! Ended up being a way easier fix than Pops thought and- Oh!” 

Before Javi could even get out the rest of his sentence, you were trapping his words in your own mouth, feverishly bringing your lips to his as you grabbed fistfulls of his shirt, kissing him like every bone in your body depended on it. 

Javi stood there for a moment, almost dumbfounded and frozen, wondering what had warranted such a greeting before leaning in to reciprocate, snaking his hands to your sides and grabbing your waist, pulling away only to try and understand the reason for his passionate welcome. 

“H-hi baby. Everything okay?” 

“Mhmmmmmm.” 

“Not that I’m mad about it, but I feel like you’re greeting me like I’m coming home from war.” Javi laughed to himself quietly, looking down at you with a smirking suspicion. 

“I missed you. I need you so bad, Javi.” You moaned, pressing up to lock your lips to his again, this time Javi matching your intensity as your mouths crashed into each other. 

“Is this all from this morning?” Javi managed to ask between parted kisses, his grip tightening around you as he pulled you closer to his chest. 

“This morning,” you paused, beginning to kiss him between each thought, “right now,” your hands began to roam up his chest, sneaking under the fabric of his shirt, “all the time,” fingers now working at frantically undoing the buttons, “fuck, everything about you. You’re so fucking sexy, Javi. Do you know that? God, I’m so lucky.” At this point, it felt like the words were flowing out of you in a horny and unstoppable stream of consciousness, babbling between desperate kisses pressed against Javi’s lips. “I need you so bad. I want you fuck me, Javi. Fuck, I- I want you to put a baby in me.” 

Your last sentence had Javi frozen in place once again, pulling away just to make sure he had heard you correctly, even though the boyish grin growing ear to ear across his face seemed to be enough confirmation. The two of you had been trying ever since you had gotten back from your honeymoon, but now that you were to the point that your birth control was out of your system and your cycle was back to normal, it felt just a little more real to the both of you. 

“You want me to put a baby in you, mi amor? That what you want?” Javi groaned, his voice rumbling low in his chest as a hungry glaze painted itself across his chocolate brown eyes, making your pussy throb at hearing him say it back to you. 

“Mhmmmmm.” You nodded frantically, too caught up in your own desire to find any words to string together into a coherent sentence. “I think I’m ovulating, so it could really happen this time. Please, baby, I-” 

This time, it was Javi’s turn to cut you off, his arms scooping below your legs to hoist you up around him, legs locking around his hips as he carried you down the hallway towards your bedroom, your bodies banging and bumping against the walls and door frames in a frantic race to your bed without any regard for spatial awareness.  

As soon as you were close enough, Javi was tossing you on the bed, frantically stripping himself of his shirt and working his way down to his jeans before he realized you were sitting up, already toying with his button and zipper. You pushed his pants down his legs, followed by his boxers, revealing his cock, fully erect and weeping with precum at the tip. It wasn’t long until you were scrambling off the bed and dropping to your knees in front of him, licking the salty tang of spend off his tip before he could protest that he needed to take care of you first. 

“Hermosa, I- Oh fuckkkk-” He groaned, feeling your jaw go slack as you took his length into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks until you could feel him in the back of your throat, pulling back to look up at him with batted lashes as you kissed him up and down his shaft. 

“I wanna suck your dick, Javi. Wanna show you how much I love it. Wanna feel you down my throat before you fuck me.” You moaned, rubbing your legs together to try and ease the ache between your legs, your pussy so wet and puffy that slick and arousal were dripping from your cunt and coating the inside of your thighs. 

“Fuck me…” Javi muttered under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut to regain his composure before looking back down at you, slowly sucking at his tip, your tongue swirling around the sensitive ridges of his cock. “Okay, baby. Show me how bad you need me before I put my dick in your tight little pussy, huh?” 

Inch by inch, you took him back down your throat until you were brushing up against the curls at his base, the sweet and musky scent of him filling your nostrils as you inhaled. “Oh fuck, Osita. Holy shit.” His voice rasped, hitching in the back of his throat watching your mouth fill with his cock. His fingers ran through your hair, tugging a little tighter as your pace began to quicken, his grunts and moans becoming louder with each push and pull. “Fuck, such a good girl taking me so well. So fucking pretty when you suck my cock baby, holy fuck.” 

For as much as Javi wanted you to keep going until he was spilling down your throat, he needed to save every last drop for when he came inside you, fucking you full of him until he knew it took. Feeling his balls begin to draw up into his stomach, he forced himself to pull you off him, panting to catch his breath before he spoke. “I don’t wanna cum yet, baby, and if you keep going like that I’m gonna bust.  Fuck, you’re so good to me. Lay down on the bed, Hermosa. Let me take care of you. Need to taste you.” 

Instantly, Javi was pulling you up and sitting you on the bed, letting your back hit the mattress as he settled between your legs, tugging your bottoms off until they were in a crumpled pile on the floor. his hands slide down the inside of your thighs, pushing them apart to reveal the wet, slick, and puffy mess your pussy had already become without even being touched. Javi chuckled to himself, awestruck by the sight in front of him, kissing and nipping at the meat of your legs, teasing you with how dangerously close he was to your cunt and finally giving you what you needed. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet, cariño.” Letting his hands shift down, his fingers ghosted across your core as his thumbs slid through the lips of your pussy, spreading it open even further, making you whimper in anticipation. “Goddamn, she’s so pretty. Prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen. Who’s pussy is this, baby girl?” He smirked, barely kissing your clit, driving you absolutely wild as you squirmed beneath his touch, desperate for him to do something, anything, to ease your ache.  

“Y-yours, Javi. It’s all yours, baby. Only yours.” You whined, gazing down at him with a rampant need in your eyes, fisting at your bedsheets to find somewhere to try and release your tension. 

“Fucking right it is.” 

His head then dipped between your legs, arms draped across your stomach holding you in place as he began to eat you out like a man being served his last meal on this earth. Broad, flat strokes of his tongue slid between your folds, pressing against your clit with the perfect amount of pressure he knew would have you crumbling beneath him. 

You couldn’t help but rithe under his touch, instinctively bucking your hips at his face, overwhelmed by the way Javi was relentlessly drinking you up, his fingers gripping tighter to the meat of your thighs to hold you in place as you could feel the tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine, your back arching in desperate anticipation. 

Almost as if he could read your mind, Javi easily slipped two fingers inside you, curving in just the right way to bump against your g-spot, fucking in and out of you to fill the emptiness in your pussy he knew you craved. 

“J-Javi, oh fuck- don’t stop baby, please, don’t stop.” You whimpered, your eyes nearly rolling in the back of your head as you felt your orgasm begin to build, cunt clenching tighter around Javi’s fingers and beginning to flutter while he sucked on your clit. You could feel his smug smirk pressed against your heat as your hand shot down between your legs, grabbing and tugging on fistfulls of his thick locks, your tell tale sign that it was only a few more moments before you were about to come undone. 

“That’s it, hermosa. Say my name, baby girl. Let me hear you.” 

And there you were, chanting his name like a prayer, over and over again until you reached your breaking point. 

“Javi, Javi, Javi, J-Javi, J-aaaahhhhhh, oh fuck-” 

In an instant, you could feel a wave of pleasure crashing through you in toe curling delight, your orgasming ripping through every inch of your body with undeniable intensity, your slick soaking Javi as he drank up every last drop of you, savoring the sweet taste of you on his tongue. 

You sat there for a moment, back against the mattress as your chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, blissed out of your mind as you sat propped up on your elbows, staring at Javi, proudly wiping the slick covering his face with the back of his hand. 

“Javi, holy fuck, baby.” You gasped, swallowing hard as you watched Javi begin to hover over you, making his way up your body one slow, wet kiss at a time, nipping at the soft skin of your stomach before cupping your breasts, taking one in his mouth, sucking and flicking at your pebbled nipples with his tongue while he rolled the other between his fingers. The whimpers escaping from your lips were damn near pathetic, but considering how worked up you were, you could have probably cum again just from this alone. 

“You still want me to fuck a baby into you, Hermosa?” Javi asked all too knowingly, tongue darting between the smirk of his parted lips, trailing languid kisses along your collarbone and up your neck.  

“Y-yes. Fuck, yes.” You moaned, breath hitching at the back of your throat as Javi sucked at your pulse point. 

“Tell me how badly you want it, pretty girl.” Javi whispered, his voice rumbling low in his throat as he nipped at your ear. “Tell me how much you want me to give you a baby.” 

“F-fuck, so badly Javi. Please, baby. I want you to so bad. I want you to more than anything. I wanna make you a daddy, Javi.” 

If Javi had any ounce of self composure left, that alone was enough to make him crumble, letting out an audible groan, his dick even harder than he already thought it could be. 

“Fuck me…” Javi groaned, sucking you in for another electric kiss. “Turn around, baby.” 

Scooching yourself further up the mattress, you laid with your stomach to the bed as Javi climbed behind you, swiping his cock through your folds before sinking into your heat, bottoming out against your cervix and whimpering at the sweet sting of his stretch, sucking him in with your warm, velvety walls. 

Slowly, Javi began to thrust in and out of you, taking his time with each stroke as he laid his chest against your back, interlocking his fingers with yours outstretched above your head on the bedspread, head buried in the crook of your neck. 

Each push and pull of his hips elicited more lewd sounds than the last- you were practically dripping at this point from how worked up you were, and could hear the wetness pooling in your pussy, filling the room with obscenely filthy sounds. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet. You hear that, Momma? You hear how wet you are for me? Hear how badly your tight little pussy wants me to fill her up? Pump her full of me?” Javi moaned, his thrusts becoming faster and deeper, his grip around your hands even tighter than before, biting down on your shoulder trying his best to keep from falling apart at just how good you felt around him, coating every inch of his length in your arousal.  

“I want you to cum so deep inside me, Javi. P-please, baby.” You begged, craning your neck behind you just enough to see the wrecked expression painted across Javi’s face that mirrored yours. 

Suddenly, you could feel Javi grabbing your hips, flipping you over as your back bounced against the mattress, now staring up at him. He ran his hands up the back of your thighs until your knees were against your stomach, spread open as wide as you could be for him. 

As he sunk back in your heat, he caged himself over you, devouring you in a desperate and hungry kiss of mangled tongue and teeth, catching your moans in his mouth as he bottomed out inside you. 

“Need to see that beautiful face when you cum for me, cariño. Wanna see you when you soak my cock, w-watch, oh fuck- you when I fuck you so full of me, I’ll knock you up tonight.” Javi moaned between kisses. 

The new angle had Javi pounding into you in the way that had your jaw going slack and your cunt beginning to clench tighter and tighter around his length, once again feeling the knot in your stomach beginning to tighten with arousal. 

“P-please, Javi. F-fuck- You feel so good, don’t stop, baby.” You whimpered, your eyes locking with his, your heart racing as you stared into the deep chocolate brown of his gaze.

“I won’t stop, hermosa. Won’t stop until I fill this perfect pussy up. Fuck you so full of me, I’ll be dripping out of you for days. Won’t stop until I fuck a baby into you, get you pregnant, watch you give us a family- Jesus, fuck- Fuck, I love you so much.” 

Snaking his hand between your bodies, he reached between your legs to rub at your clit, rhythmically circling your sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting a pathetic whimper from you, knowing at this rate, you weren’t going to last much longer, and that meant neither was he. 

“I love you too, Javi. More than anything.”  

 Each thrust of his hips sending you closer to the brink of collapse than the last, the noises of your wanton moans, skin slapping against each other and the wetness of Javi’s cock sloppily pumping in and out of your cunt had the room sounding borderline pornographic. You could feel your eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head as the coil in your belly was about to reach a breaking point until the firm grasp of Javi’s palm around your jaw forced your gaze up at him once again. 

“Eyes on me, baby. Eyes on me when you cum. Need to see you when I fuck a baby into you, Momma.” 

That was all you needed to finally send you over the edge, your body exploding with pleasure as your orgasm overtook you, your thighs shaking and voice trembling with wrecked pleas of Javi’s over and over.

“J-Javi, Javi, Javiiiii, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck, oh God, fuck, baby, fuck!” 

As you gushed around his cock, your pussy gripped him like a vice as you came. Javi’s hips began to stutter, his pace now becoming frantic and sloppy knowing how close he was to following suit, losing all inhibitions as you sobbed out in ecstasy. 

“That’s it, baby. Mierda- Fuck, I’m close. Gonna fill this pussy up- oh shit- so full it’ll f-fucking take. I know it will. I p-promise, I- oh fuck!” 

With one final stammer of his hips, Javi’s orgasm consumed him, his spend coating every inch of your walls as he spilled into you, milking himself of every last drop as he came. His body slumped into yours, chests rising and falling in sync as both of you laid in post-orgasmic bliss, completely lost in the sensation of each other. 

After a moment, Javi finally pulled out his softening cock, making you whine at the loss. Sitting back on his haunches, he couldn't help but admire the absolute mess between your legs- your pussy so puffy and swollen, covered in your shiny slick, and dripping with his cum. A satisfied smirk spread across his face as he watched his spend begin to leak out of you, knowing that you were overflowing with him. 

His fingers traced down your thighs, dragging his cum back to your cunt, making sure a single drop didn't go to waste. You couldn't help but sob as his curved fingers push back inside your pussy, making sure you stay stuffed full of him so he knew it took, because God, did want it more than anything to take. 

Gently pulling back out, Javi couldn’t help but lean down to kiss you again, grabbing your face as he peppers you with kisses, making you squeal in a ticklish delight. 

“I love you so much, mi amor.” Javi cooed, his forehead resting against yours as he softly stroked your face, your heart swelling with joy and excitement at the man you hoped from 9 months from now, would be the father to your child. 

“I love you too, Jav. You’re gonna be such a good Daddy.” You smirked, teasing him just enough to make him let out a sigh, biting down on his lip. 

“You’re gonna fucking kill me with that one. You know that?” 

“Well it’s true!” You laughed, giving him a playful nudge, running your hand through the sweaty curls at the nape of his neck. “You think this one will be the one?” 

“I hope so. If not, guess we’re just gonna have to keep trying every day till it is, huh?” 

“If you keep fucking me like that, we’re gonna have 12 kids before you know it.” 

“I mean… wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” Javi grinned, rasing his eyebrows at you with a boyish glow. 

“Javi! We are not having 12 kids!” You protested, rolling your eyes at your husband. 

“Osita, if you keep coming on to me like you did today, we may not have a fucking choice.”  

Taglist:

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper r @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[thesummerpetrichor]

𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓰𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓼: 𝓣𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓸

Stepdad!Javier Peña x afab!fem!reader

Summary: The year is 1979 and it's the summer after graduation. You want to make the most of the vacation, but going to shady dance bars is a lot harder now that your new stepfather works for the DEA.

Warnings: 18+ only minors DNI you will be blocked. Mentions of DEA, cops and raids, stepdad trope and all that comes with, minor DUBCON, big juicy age gap [reader is 18/19 when she meets Javi, Javi is in his mid 40s], reader wears a dress, petnames, mommy issues ™ , alcohol consumption, mean!brat tamer!dom!Javi then soft!Javi, brat!reader, rough sex, “virginity” loss & minor mention of blood, sex in the woods on the hood of Javi’s car, mentions of F masturbation, some reader x oc, Javi gives reader her first orgasm, major size kink [Javi is bigger than the reader, can rough house with her], degradation, dumbification, reader is insanely horny, satanic levels of dirty talk, finger sucking, choking, spanking [with a belt and hand] , a few slaps [as always], fingering, unprotected P in V [be better!!], creampie. Let me know if I missed anything 🫶

Word count: 7.2k

A/N: I am impossibly excited for this stepdad trilogy. This is part 1/3 so it’s only 1/3 the fun and debauchery. Few Easter eggs thrown in.. see if you can spot em 🤭.This is set up after the events of season 2 and before the events of season 3, in a year where Javi is taking a break before Cali, but feel free to imagine otherwise. Enjoy!!

Masterlist

​​Once I had a love and it was a gas

Soon turned out had a heart of glass

Seemed like the real thing, only to find

Mucho mistrust, love's gone behind

Once I had a love and it was divine

Soon found out I was losing my mind

It seemed like the real thing, but I was so blind

Mucho mistrust, love's gone behind

You stood at the entrance, one foot tapping restlessly on the wooden floorboards. In an effort to keep your head down you fiddled aimlessly with the clasp on your watch, knowing full well you weren’t going to be paying attention to anything but the time that flashed on its face. An older, blonde woman came stomping onto the patio, swinging the wooden door behind you so hard on her way the rattle it produced when it slammed shut knocked the flimsy “BAR” sign right off. You jumped, then took another step away from the establishment.  

You could almost feel the bass of the engine thrumming in your chest as it got closer. The tires crunched against the gravel as it neared. You still couldn’t see it. You hoped it was her. 

It wasn’t long before a red convertible was nearing, the number plate sending a shaky, relieved sigh hurtling past your lips. Agitated, drunk and anxiety ridden, you ran towards and then jumped into Lorrain’s car– hoping and praying the ride would give you a beat to sober up. 

It wasn’t the first time you’d had to sneak back into your room well past midnight. It was so much of a habit you could sell a course on how to accomplish it with the utmost skill and precision. What was rare, however, was having to perform the task while shaken up so severely. The side of your small, once welcoming home seemed more alien than ever, your bedroom looking far higher off the ground than you remembered. 

Nevertheless, a few missteps and about 10 minutes later you stumbled through your open window, quickly stripping to your underwear and shoving your dirty, alcohol laced clothes under your bed. You cursed your “parents” at the fact that you still needed to do this shit like a fucking highschooler. 

The sound of feet padding towards your bedroom door startled you, and you jumped to pull on your sleep shorts before what you knew was your stepdad coming up the stairs. 

You hoped and prayed he hadn't caught wind of the way you screamed when your foot missed the ledge below your window, or worse, that his partner hadn’t given him a call to inform him of the familiar face he saw at the shack that night. 

No matter how many times you liked to imagine he would bend you over his knee and discipline you, how many times you imagined it was him with his hand under your skirt or head between your legs as some clumsy 20 year old rutted against your thigh, you knew full well if Javier actually ever caught your antics, the consequences were going to be a whole lot less ideal than that. 

As you jumped under the covers you recalled the way Agent Steve Murphy had cocked his head at you back at the bar. The way your stepfather’s partner had squinted his eyes at you in confusion, doing a double take at your skimpy outfit, short dress and boots, the way the men at the bar had their hands all over you. 

You prayed it wasn’t too late before you turned your head away, that it wasn’t too late before you swiftly moved out of that bar, before he could be sure it was you he was seeing. 

Because if he was, there would be absolute hell to pay. 

—

One summer, when you were maybe eight or nine, you developed an absurd obsession with riding your bike up the slope that led away from your small town. Eventually, the uphill roads veered away, twisting and turning into a thousand different rocky paths that converged at one point only a few hundred metres from the large sign that welcomed people into the town. The singular, welcoming road led straight into the woods. Back then, it seemed endless, providing a warm, hospitable buffer for the hills that loomed over the town with a somewhat protective intimidation. Like the woods were watching over your every move. 

Everyday, for three months, you’d bust out your front door at 18:00 on the dot and make the journey uphill. Exhaustively pushing your bike past that sign and into what was nature's much welcome respite from your mothers neglectful cruelty. You collected rocks by the stream that ran through those woods, leaves and flowers to keep in your room. It was like they were magic. Like they wanted to get to know you, be your friend. The trees formed a canopy over you, like they wanted to shield you from the winds and the setting sun, and most importantly from the town below. 

One day you remember hearing some rustling coming from up the stream. You didn't think much of it, must have been a deer or something of the sort. You continued foraging for little flowers and rocks, that was until you came across something that didn't really belong. A piece of white lace. It looked new, but dirty, there was cotton under half of it. It seemed like it was part of a dress. Someone must have lost it up there. You didn't investigate. Things were calm and quiet again as usual, but it wasn't long before the rustling from upstream got louder, just slightly, and you heard the clatter of a metal rod to the ground, followed by a heavier, louder thud. 

You turned on your heel and away from the stream, it took you four minutes to find the welcome sign to your town again. By 19:00 you were home. 

You never went back to the woods again. That August your mother informed you you were going to school in the city. 

— 

To say you were unhappy to come home from boarding school to the news your mother was marrying a cop would be an understatement, and while you tried not to be too judgy and give him a chance, to say you were surprised when he turned out to be a complete authoritarian would be an even bigger understatement. 

You knew of Agent Peña, he was somewhat of a local celebrity. You’d seen him on your summers home since you were sixteen- picking up beers at the convenience store, smoking cigarettes outside the petrol station. You and your friends would often drool over him, wait for him to show up at a neighbourhood barbeque, or catch him taking a walk around the block. 

Eventually, you grew up, and outgrew your little hallway crush on the, now, mostly tiresome Agent Peña. Because soon you weren't sixteen. And his holier than thou, saviour complex, and affinity for order only made you roll your eyes. In fact he was quite annoying. He made little effort to contribute to the community, still riding his high from his days in Colombia. 

You wondered why those people revered him like he was taking bullets for your town. 

You were absolutely flabbergasted when you found out your mother was marrying him. At first, a little bit jealous for the teenager who once fawned over him, but quickly more concerned for the fact that he was actually someone who you’d have to interact with, and not just a piece of eye candy you could appreciate out and about. 

Hell, he was becoming family, and your stepfather no less. It was torturous. You did not need another person to worry about in your home. 

“So.. What’re you studying?” He crossed his left leg over the right, and asked you. His hand reached out to receive the glass of whiskey your mother poured him. He hadn’t been in your house for ten minutes and you already couldn’t stand his guts. Besides the fact that he was a cop, he had this air about him… what exactly, you weren’t quite sure. A superficial, macho exterior that felt like a bigger slap in the face than the fact that he was sitting on the nice, upholstered, expensive, armchair your father had paid for. 

Unsurprisingly, Agent Peña often indulged you in riveting conversation about the dangers of indulging in alcohol and drugs at a young age as he puffed on his cigarette, and lectured you, in what you knew as truly your mothers fashion, about how young people these days didn't know a thing, and that they must always respect and follow the lead of their elders. 

Much like mother dear, he paid little attention to you other than to reprimand you for whatever it was you weren’t doing correctly; for when you didn’t do the dishes on time, or were staying out too late, as if it was any of his business to even begin with. He seemed to really enjoy the protective dad role. It fit in well with the rest of his pathetic persona. 

No wonder they got along.

You remember almost gagging when he boasted about the college you were set to attend, one arm slung across your shoulder, at the party your aunt threw for your graduation. Like he had absolutely anything to do with it. You excused yourself partly to avoid the embarrassment and partly to roll your eyes. A small part of you enjoyed his proud boasting, but you were not ready to unpack that yet. 

In the time the couple weren’t circle jerking about their views, you were lucky enough to be the recipient of snide comments that were so obviously meant for your late father. To his credit Javier Peña didn’t involve himself in the conversation. You couldn’t say the same for a lot of your mother’s previous lovers. 

Since you were ten years old you had been making your own decisions, doing what you wanted and living on your terms. To return to your home for the summer after graduation, now 18, and have to abide by someone else’s meaningless regulations, was a rather harsh slap in the face. Not to mention this someone had been in your life all of two months, and really enjoyed acting like he knew anything about you, or your family. 

Sometimes, when you’d climb down the stairs of that quaint suburban home, the home that once belonged to your family, in the middle of the night to grab a glass of water or a snack, you’d see him sitting out on the porch, hunched over a whole bunch of shit you couldn’t bother caring about, with his ashtray dangerously close to all that flammable paper. 

His shirt stretched deliciously over his back, his hand reaching out to ash his cigarette every once in a while. You were glad he was infuriating, had he not been such a prick it might have revived the little bit of a crush you had on him. 

Sometimes you felt a little bit bad for rolling your eyes at him, or shutting down his attempts to initiate group plans. If you were being honest you were surprised when he didn’t blow up at you for talking back or being rude– that was when your mother wasn’t around. When she was, he didn’t have to. She would jump at any chance to start a fight. You were even more surprised when Javier tried to diffuse the situation. 

You figured soon enough that perhaps the Javier Peña you met a few months prior was putting quite the show on for his overbearing, obnoxious lover. Of course, you were sure he hardly saw her that way. He was perhaps a lot smarter than you gave him credit for. 

Javier often chided your mother when you spoke back to her, rather unexpectedly calling out her bad parenting and the behaviour she “modelled” for you when you were a child. You overheard them argue after a big blowout, from your room. It upset you that he was even getting involved. He tried to talk to you about it later, but that was the last thing you wanted to do. 

Obviously, you knew your hatred of them both had something to do with your psychologically deprived childhood, but it baffled you how neither of them, especially wannabe father of the year Javier Peña, didn’t realised your isolated anger would perhaps be diminished if they stopped trying to meddle in your life, the one neither of them seemed to care about unless something about it upset them. 

If he really cared about your wellbeing he’d take his wife and get the fuck out of your life. You were an adult, one that wasn’t going to listen to anyone, especially not the mother who packed you away all those years ago, and her hypocritical, infuriating husband. 

Thats why, despite having almost gotten caught and having your ass handed to you less than forty eight hours prior, you were back at the shack, drink in hand, stupidly forgetting exactly what had you scrambling to get out there in the first place. 

Who could have even blamed you? Your mother had been especially annoying that particular morning, and Javier and his buddies had colonised the house for a barbeque in the afternoon. In what even you recognised as somewhat juvenile rebelion, you decided the universe owed you some fun after having to endure their patronising, senseless chit chat all day. 

It wasn’t even that late, but you were already feeling it, the effects of the countless drinks you had downed over the course of the few hours you had been dancing at the bar. Nothing unusual in that, men often offered to buy you drinks, handsome ones at that, and you didn’t have the money to live extravagantly. Besides, if you weren’t going to use your charm what was it even there for? 

Was it Timmy? Tommy? You couldn't even recall his name by the time he was tossing you onto the counter in the bar’s bathroom. To be honest you couldn’t really figure out much of your surroundings, letting yourself get lost in the delicate, dizzy, tipsy haze as his hands slipped under your skirt to squeeze at your thighs. Your regular drunk hookup, or rather someone you disappointingly rolled around with till he finished and left you to roll your hips against your pillow wishing your hands were your Stepfather’s. 

His lips brushed your neck, sloppily planting kisses up and down your skin, nipping at your collar bones as he pushed himself between your legs. You closed your eyes and imagined he was Javier. The thought made you moan and you reached for his collar to pull him closer. He didn't smell like Javi, wasn't as big, his chest wasn’t as firm, his arms didn't envelop you like Javi’s did. 

You felt him swell against you, and you pushed against him, mind once again drifting to Javier standing at the grill in your backyard. His white linen shirt unbuttoned far too low, rolled up sleeves drawing your eyes to his forearms. He’d had a hand on his hip, a sliver of skin right above the band of his shorts just barely visible. 

He smiled at you, and you had worried he’d caught you staring. You revelled in the image. You recalled how he leaned against the edge of the pool with the afternoon sun beating down on his golden skin. You imagined his hands moving under your bra to squeeze your breast. 

You were rather embarrassingly enjoying the little montage of your stepdad that was playing in your head. You had almost forgotten it was tommy, or timmy rolling his hips against yours. If a loud, wall rattling thud hadn’t interrupted you, you would've enjoyed your little delusion even longer. 

To say you were startled was an understatement, you practically leaped right off the counter. Unable to really gather your bearings in time, you barely registered timmy, or tommy, scrambling to fix his shirt, you yourself rushing to cover up and fix the top of your dress. 

From the corner of your eye you caught a hand grab him by the shoulder and shove him towards the door, dragging him out of the bathroom and towards a building commotion outside. You heard people yelling, but couldn’t really make out what was going on. 

When you looked up and found Javier looking dead at you, instead of your little fling, you damn near collapsed. He looked like he was on the verge of a heart attack. In a second he was shutting the door behind him, and flicking the lock. You would’ve ran, but its not like you could go anywhere, besides, hed gotten a good look at your face gawking at him, like a fucking moron. 

It was over. 

“You’re fucking kidding me.” you hopped off the counter and tumbled into his chest.  He took you by the arm and dragged you right to the back of the bathroom, you struggled to remain on your feet but he didn’t really care. Much of your dizziness was thanks to your new found anxiety and had little to do with the vodka you’d been downing all night. This was definitely not an ideal situation. His grip on your arm tightened, and made you wince. You liked the sting, not so much the rest of the whole ordeal. “This where you’ve been fuckin’ going?” he seethed, coming close enough that your noses almost touched, he shook you lightly by the arm as he spoke. 

You tried to wiggle out of his grip, but he pulled you closer. “None of your fucking business.” Sure, you weren’t on your best behaviour, but did he really think he could boss you around? 

“Sure as hell’s my fucking business.” he took a look behind him, then turned back to you and leaned closer. “‘DEA agent’s step daughter dancing at illegal drug club’ sure gonna make a sweet headline.” His fingers dug into your flesh. Only then did it hit you why exactly he was in your dingy shack to begin with. You heard Timmy arguing with someone outside. You felt your palms become impossibly clammier. 

“Just fucking turn me in then, asshole.” you got closer, and you were sure he could smell the vodka off your breath. You wished that sounded as courageous and bold out loud as it did in your head. His eyes jumped to your lips, and he rolled them, huffing in frustration. You felt your own eyes burn, and your vision became blurry. You didn't want to cry in front of that bastard. You looked away. 

“To whom? Myself” his thumb smoothed over your skin, and his grip lightened. “Not gonna arrest you, fuckin’ idiot.” he rolled his eyes, then dropped your arm to put his hands on his hips. He looked down and sighed, massaging his temple and then glancing behind him again. 

“Riskin it all for that fuckin’ looser?” He let out a half hearted laugh, looking somehow both disappointed and smug. You wanted to punch him in the face. You would have, if he didnt happen to be the only thing between you and one dozen other narcs outside. 

He glanced at the ground for a second, then back at you and fixed the strap of your top that had slipped down your shoulder. “Get in the car.” he pointed behind you, and you looked in the direction to see a small, open window. 

“Know you're good at climbing outta windows.” you felt your cheeks heat so much they burned. Your heart hadn’t really recovered from his big, surprise entry yet. You couldn't stand to look at his frustrated, let down face. 

Javi cocked his head and raised his brows, whispering a strained “go”. You had no choice, you turned away from him and towards the window. 

—

“Where are we going?”

He didn't look away from the road ahead. Hand gripping the steering wheel with a renewed annoyance. “Better stop asking questions before s’ too late brat.” You opened your mouth to speak, but quickly shut it right back up again. You decided it was probably a lot smarter to just shut up and not bother him any longer– regardless of the thousand questions and worries you had swimming in your head. 

If you were lucky, he was going to drive the both of you right off a cliff, because if your mother caught any wind of what you had been doing, your plans for going to college, and living out of your house would fly right out the window. Not to mention the torture that would insue when she demanded to know your whereabouts all day everyday for the rest of the foreseeable future. 

“Don't want ya hangin’ round the countryside, in these barns, nothing good happens in there.” he looked over you momentarily, 

“Oh what? Are the cows joining in on the drug trade?” 

“Newspaper boys, going missin’. Found him in the lake, about two miles from here.” you pressed your lips together. 

The car ride thus passed in a painful, tense silence. Javier was clearly unhappy with the whole situation, but had decided not to immediately blow up in your face? Everything about that unsettled you. He was so shocked he seemed to be in denial. You'd much prefer if he just yelled at you and got it over with. 

What else was there to do? Surely he wasn’t going to turn you over to the cops, he had his chance to do that already. However Javier never missed a chance to reprimand you, maybe he wanted to get a few words in before ruining your future. 

You wouldn’t put it past him anyway. 

The empty streets gave way to a narrow, winding road that cut through the woods. The familiar landscape of your small town faded away, replaced by shadowy silhouettes of trees that loomed closer and closer to the edge of the road. The headlights pierced the darkness, illuminating the dense foliage– closing in around you. The road twisted and turned, each bend bringing you deeper into the night, and further away from any civilisation. 

Beginning to zone out, you kept your eyes ahead, now unable to recognise left from right, and importantly, exactly how far out from town you had come.  It wasn’t long before the “farwell, drive safe” sign that stood at the edge of the woods was swiftly moving past your right shoulder. A pit was quick to form in your stomach, the lowered window by Javi’s side let the cool breeze in. It wrapped around you and made you shiver. The smell of the woods soon overcame you. 

Eventually,the car came to a stop in a small clearing. You watched Javi, but he paid no attention to you. The silence was almost deafening, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves and the occasional creak of branches swaying in the wind. In the distance, an owl hooted, its call echoed through the trees. You felt like a child about to be reprimanded after getting in trouble at school. You could hear the ticking of the cooling engine, each sound amplified in the stillness of the night. The dark woods pressed in on you. 

After what felt like an eternity, he opened his door, stepping out and gesturing for you to do the same with his head. Still absolutely clueless about what exactly he was doing, you decided just to follow along. He wasn’t going to actually kill you or anything. Probably just wanted to scare you. He had always thought he was a lot more scary than he actually was. At least that's what your brain was telling you. Your heart had other plans. 

You watched from inside as Javi began to cross in front of you, for a good three seconds he stood directly ahead of you, facing you in the beams of the headlights. The sight made you shiver. He took a step out of the light. Taking a long deep breath to psych yourself up, after a short moment you opened your door. Javi placed his arm on the top of said door, leaning against it to watch you get out. 

You almost tripped, but Javi caught you by the arm and manhandled you to the front of his truck. Your eyes took a moment to adjust to the light, and when he turned you to face the hood it blinded you. 

The scrape of your shoes against the damp soil, the crunch of the leaves– it was pretty much all you could really register. The moon shone bright, shining through the trees, but your eyes had not yet adjusted to the darkness. “These woods are fucking haunted.” A bug landed on the side of your face and you jumped, shaking your head and swatting it away. Javier laughed behind you and you rolled your eyes. “Ghosts the least of your worries right now, bunny .” 

“Fuckin gross.” He shook you by the arm, his voice now a tad bit more annoyed than it was a little earlier. “Oh really?” He pushed you against the hood of his car, your back now facing it. You couldn’t see his eyes, any part of his face at all, you could barely see anything. You wondered how he moved so confidently in the dark. He must have practice. 

“I ain’t sneakin’ out to be a slut every night.” His hands moved to grab your waist and your heart jumped. You swallowed, feeling more defiant yet sceptical by the second. “Sorry you’re not getting any, but it's not my fault, dirty old man.” Before you could even gauge his reaction your head was snapping to the side, a sharp burn spreading across your cheek as Javier’s hand made contact with your skin. 

“I'm not getting any?” he laughed, then took your face between his fingers and squeezed your cheeks together. You winced, and your vision got blurry. You felt your panties dampen embarrassingly. “I ain't the one lettin’ stupid boys rub up on me, bunny.” He shook your face gently, voice so seething and cruel you whimpered, somehow more desperate for him than you were before. 

“Desperate little slut.” He grabbed you by the shoulders and flipped you around, and promptly told you to “shut that whore mouth” when you screamed that he could fuck right off. His fingers left tender spots all over your arms and waist, and you winced when he manhandled you into bending over the hood of his car. 

He placed a hand on your back to press you down, the other held your waist in a death grip and you felt him press up against your ass. Your dress had ridden up, and surely left little to the imagination. The denim of his jeans rubbed against your upper thighs, and the tips of your shoes barely scraped the ground with how far up the hood of the car he had thrown you. You whimpered and he shushed you with a hand squeezing around your throat from behind. 

You knew you had to be unjustifiably wet by this point. You felt yourself throb when Javi put his hands under your dress and grabbed the waistband of your panties. He pressed his hips into yours and you felt his bulge through the fabric. 

The jingle of his belt sent a shiver down your spine, every hair on the back of your neck standing up at attention. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, still undecided about how exactly you felt about this entirely new development. 

Your heart jumped when he ran the leather across your skin, slowly, perhaps to catch you off guard when he finally struck you with it. You lurched forward, the pain so sharp a tear was quick to roll down your cheek. He struck you again, holding you down with his other hand. The sound of each slash, and your whines that followed echoed in the distance. 

“Think you’re fuckin cute, don’t you.” It was horribly embarrassing to be bent over the hood of his car, both palms on holding you up as best they could whilst he landed spank after spank on your bare ass. “Like bein a wild child?” Your scream echoed in the woods when his belt made sharp contact with your flesh. Your knees buckled but Javier's hand on your waist held you up before it was retreating to land another slap on your ass. Tears were dampening the neckline of your dress already, rolling down your neck and rendering you a bigger mess with every sharp spank of his belt. 

“Yeah? You get off on all those men touchin’ ya? Like being passed around like a cheap whore?” He gripped your hips so tight you didn’t even bother trying to wiggle out of his hold. “Should take ya to the office sometime, hand ya off to Steve, let him have some fun with you.”

You shook your head at that, there was only one man in the DEA offices you wanted, and unfortunately it wasn’t anybody that could actually be with. You clenched your thighs. 

“Knew you were a fuckin’ nasty little girl.” He wedged his hand between them, pushing them apart and slightly spreading your thighs. His fingers rubbed over your clothed cunt, your panties now damp from all that had ensued. You shivered, then pushed back against his digits. 

His fingers found your clit and you moaned. “Did ya cum?” he asked, referring to your little escapade at the bar. Suddenly, you were a whole lot less bold than you were a few moments ago, it wasn’t ideal to admit what you were going to, and it seemed almost impossible without sounding rather pathetic. 

He stopped moving his fingers and pinched the inside of your thigh. “Answer me.” You whispered a “no” bracing yourself for whatever embarrassing comment Javier was going to throw back at you in response. “Huh.. No one fucked this tight little snatch before? Savin’ yourself for me?” he ruminated on the thought, sounding far more pleased than you would have desired. He wasn’t exactly right, but he definitely wasn’t wrong either. 

When you remained quiet he leant beside your ear, lips ghosting the skin on your neck. “Hmm, that right? “Wish it was me instead of that stupid boy?” You groaned at his smug voice, then when his fingers slid under your panties and between your dripping folds. “Wished his finger’s were mine tonight, didnt you?” He cursed under his breath at how wet you were. “How many times d’you cum dreamin’ bout your stepdaddy fuckin your tight lil pussy…” 

“Haven’t” You pressed your face against the metal of his car, cheeks on fire at your admission. He remained silent behind you for a beat, then gently lifted you to press your back to his chest with a hand around your throat. He pressed a hot, open mouthed kiss against your neck, and the hand that was between your legs slid under your dress to plam your tit through your bra. “Ever?” 

You gasped as he pulled it down, rolling your nipple between his fingers. You shook your head and pressed back against his hard cock. The buckle of his belt dug into your skin and you could almost feel the sting against your ass once again. He pulled you impossibly closer to him, hand returning between your legs. 

He rubbed your clit in slow circles and then pushed two fingers into your entrance. “Full of surprises, aren't ya?” you gasped at the stretch, his fingers were surely far bigger than your own, or any others that had been anywhere near your pussy.  “don't blame ya’ bunny , nothing like the real thing, huh?” 

You bit your lip harder to keep from moaning, already far closer to finishing than you had ever been before, especially when he stroked your walls, mercifully scissoring you open in an uncharacteristic show of thoughtfulness. 

“So fuckin’ wet, bunny .” he curled his digits, reaching that sweet spot inside you as he thumbed your clit. You pushed back against him, feeling yourself continue to gush around his hand. “Gonna slide right in at this rate.” 

He yanked your panties down with so much force you heard a few stitches rip in the silence. Javier groaned, and you leaned back against him when his hand moved away from your pussy to slide his hard cock between your thighs, his hips flush against yours. He squeezed your tit in his palm as he pulled back a little, sliding against your swollen cunt again. 

You felt your arousal smear against your thighs. He muttered a strained “Can’t wait much longer, bunny” . You, yourself thought you might have gone crazy if he waited longer. He pulled his hips back again, notching the head at your entrance and pushing in in a single, slow thrust. 

You winced and then moaned, body unable to adjust to the sheer size of him so quickly, yet still hungry for more. You hadn’t felt quite so full ever before, you could feel his cock deep inside you. Your hand covered his on your chest and you mewled and whimpered when he moved his hips, replicating the sharp thrust again, and then again. 

It wasn’t long before he was pushing you back down against the hood of his car to get a better grip on your hips. He twisted your wrist as you reached out for him, holding both in one large palm as he found a steady rhythm. The almost unbearable stretch slowly melted away into a delicious, burning need, and in only a few moments you were pressing back against him, pleading for him to pick up his pace. 

“You rub your pretty little cunt thinking ‘bout my cock splitting you open?” You moaned a “yes” every part of your body now hot with need as he kept fucking into your warm, wet, heat. 

“How?” When you didn't answer he landed a spank to your ass, this time with his hand, and right over the spot his belt had left its sting on not so long ago. You yelped and surged forward. His hand on your hip pulled you back. You pulled yourself up, craving the heat of his chest against your back. 

“On my- oooh” your palm landed over his, fingers wrapping around one of his larger ones as you cut yourself off with a moan “On my pillow.” The memory made you throb harder, and the hand that was holding Javiers guided it away from your hip and closer to the cut of your thigh, craving the feel of his fingers on your clit. 

He squeezed the flesh of your thigh and chuckled, hot breath fanning against your now sweaty skin. “Thought as much. My little slut. Knew I heard ya..” he took your earlobe between his teeth for a moment, nipped and then licked a stripe up your neck “tryna make yourself cum. Couldn't figure it out yourself huh?” 

You shook your head. “horny little girl, need me to do everything for ya.” You had indeed, countless times rather ashamedly. The thought that he’d possibly heard you long enough for it to be a problem, had likely fucked your mother at the thought, wishing it was you under him in her stead was a thought that would live in your head for all eternity. 

He kissed your cheek, then pushed you back down. “S’why ya keep spreading your legs for the whole world huh?” He put a palm on the middle of your back, holding you down as he continued to thrust inside you. “Chasin’ cock all day long.”

“Can’t help this whore cunt huh? So desperate to cum.” holding yourself up on your forarms you raised your head, turning back to get a look at him fucking into your desperate pussy. 

“Knew it the moment I fuckin’ saw you. Dumb slut got nothing to her name besides this sweet pussy. No one taught ya any manners, how to be a good little girl.” His thumb brushed over the cut of your jaw, fingers squeezing your cheeks. His index and middle fingers swiped your lips, and they instinctively parted to let him push them in. You sucked and drooled around his digits, doing little to contain your moans as he continued to fuck you from behind. The taste of your arousal sat heady on your tongue. “Always knew ya wanted it, stupid little slut.”

“Runnin that whore mouth all day like you're payin’ for the house.” his hips snapped towards yours, his cock buried deep inside you. “But it aint your house, bunny .” With the way your tits were pressing against the smooth metallic finish of his stupid pickup truck you were sure they were going to leave a mark. 

You released his fingers with a pop, and he grabbed you by the hips and flipped you around, hurriedly tossing you onto the hood of his car till your feet were also planted firmly above the bumper. Before you could even register the movement he was slipping back inside you, you felt yourself pulse around his cock. You hoped and prayed no one was remotely near, your wailes and whines loud enough to travel far into the distance. 

“Get that in your fuckin’ head” He tapped his index gently against your temple and you nodded, frantically pleading yes after yes. You felt him throb inside you, each drag of his cock building the tension in your belly. You felt your pussy squeeze around him, and you wiggled your hips closer to chase the feeling. 

Your head turned side to side, your whole body buzzing at the heat between your legs. You don't think you’d ever felt anything like it. Sure, it felt good to touch yourself, but this, the feeling of his cock inside you, against your wet walls, it was entirely different. 

The tension only built in your hips, your skin erupting in goosebumps as you hurtled closer and closer to the edge. Your palms squeezed your breasts, seeking purchase on any part of your body. 

You lay your back down completely, watching the light hit him right in the face, falling against his features to create sharp lines of contrast. You’d take a good long look at him on top of you to save for later, but he was quickly pressing his lips to yours and your eyes fluttered shut. 

The weight of his body on top of yours was enough to make you cum on your own, but the feeling of his lips was what really did it. For how rough and quick he was splitting you open, his mouth moved gently against yours, his warm tongue parting your lips and gliding into your mouth. You moaned against him and he bit your lip, sensing how close you were. 

“Wanna see that face when you cum for me.”  his palm tilted your face upwards, and while the rest of his fingers continued to squeeze around your neck his thumb slipped between your parted lips. Instinctively, you closed your mouth around him, drooling and moaning around his thumb when he hit the sweet spot inside you over and over. Your pussy clenched around his cock and you tried to whimper his name. You felt another word bubble in your throat but you closed your lips around his digit to push it away. Your eyes fluttered shut at the intensity. 

“Cum for me, lil bunny” his words made you tumble over the edge, your cunt squeezing and gushing around his cock, your back arching off the hood of his car. His fingers squeezed around your neck, holding your face in place so he could get a good look at your eyes rolling back into your head. 

It was like a blackout, your ears rang so loud and your lips loosened around his thumb, going slack as you rode out your high. You felt him throb inside you at the sight. You felt the ache deep inside you, all the pleasure bursting in a single climactic second. Your lips fell slack around his fingers, whole body twitching at the sensation. 

Your climax set him off, and it wasn't long before he was burying himself inside your hot heat. His cock pulsed against your wet walls, painting your insides with his spend. He groaned and squeezed around your neck just a little harder. You sucked his thumb gently and heard him curse under his breath. You tried to keep your fluttering eyes on his face, watching intently as the aftershocks subsided and Javier's brows knit closer with his final few thrusts. 

After a few moments he stilled inside you, taking a moment to catch his breath. He pulled his thumb from your warm mouth to brush your bottom lip, then let his own lips take their place. You felt him pull out and you winced at the burn. He put both your legs up on his shoulders and leaned between your legs. 

You watched as his head disappeared between your legs to place a kiss to your inner thigh, and pull your panties back up your hips. You reached for him and he pulled you up to his chest. “Gotta clean up a lil bit, bunny..” he fixed your dress and lifted you off the hood and into his arms. “Ain’t nothing to worry about.” You already knew your painties were ruined for good with a red stain by that point. 

You rested your forearms on his shoulders, quite liking being held in his arms. “Knew you were always to much of a fucking perv to be a good cop.” He smacked your ass again for good measure and placed you on the ground. “You aint’ too much of a slut to fuck your stepdaddy aint it?” 

He stepped aside and you watched him do up his belt again, walking towards the driver's side of the car. You looked behind you and towards the expanse of the woods. The trees rustled, and you heard, presumably, the same owl hoot from the distance. A small crackle in the foliage had you swiftly walking to the passenger side and yanking open the door. You hopped inside and slammed it behind you. 

Javier was reaching in the glove box to stash away his gun. “Please” You swallowed, looking towards him. “Please just don’t tell her. She's going to have a freak out.”

Javi glanced at you momentarily, then murmured a dismissive “yeah yeah” as he started up the engine. That wasn't good enough for you. “Please, she’ll give me hell, I can’t deal with it.” You shook your head, then shifted in your seat. He muttered another “yeah”, checking his pockets for the keys to your front door. God forbid they slipped out while he was fucking your brains out. 

You turned towards him in your seat, both hands on the centre console. “Please.” Javier grabbed the keys, hooked them to his belt loop and dropped his head in a sigh. He turned towards you, taking a moment to reach over and buckle you into your seat. 

“‘Ain’t gonna tell, so stop askin’ before I change my mind.” He knew he didn’t need to ask you to keep your mouth shut– perhaps the most humiliating part of this all. 

“Okay.. yeah..”  The headlights flashed as you began your journey back home, the exhaustion of the day catching up with you. You sank back, twisting in Javi’s direction, now curled up in the seat. His eyes remained on the road ahead. “Don’t do this shit again.” 

“Just wanted some adventure.” your voice grew thick, and you yawned. “Next time ya want adventure watch a fuckin’ hitchcock film or something.” He reached out a hand to cup your cheek, engulfed it and patted it gently. 

”Ain't always gonna be there to save your ass, bunny.” 

— 

PART II

In between

What I find is pleasing and I'm feeling fine

Love is so confusing there's no peace of mind

If I fear I'm losing you. it's just no good

You teasing like you do

Eeek! Hope you enjoyed!! I’m very excited for this series, and I hope you are too! Please let me know what you think! Thank you to everyone who interacts with my work! Your comments and reblogs keep me writing 💗🐝

[cxrsed-angel]

Booty Call|Javier Peña x Fem! Reader (smut)

gifs by @/jdmorganz

Summary: Javier calls for a booty call and of course you cant say no, even its the first time he’s coming over to your place.

W.C: 3k

Warnings: Couch sex, Oral (F!reciving), Fingering, Pet/nicknames. p in v (safe/use of condoms). Drinking and smoking (ofc bc its javier). Reader and Javier are sort of in friends with benefits situation.

A/N: This is a loose pt 2 for my Never Have I Ever fic. This was part of the prompt for @/yxtkiwiyxt ’s never have I ever challenge i got both a sfw and not nsfw the sfw one was done first but its Javier Peña I counldnt not do a nsfw so here it is :) (not counting it for the challenge since I already posted one just wanted to post it)

You’re laying on your couch, aimlessly watching the TV, not really paying attention to it, having it on for background noise. You're just enjoying the rarity of not having to do anything. You had gotten home almost 2 hours later than usual after your boss had asked (forcefully suggested) you to stay late, and then getting caught in traffic was the cherry on top. 

But now, you can finally unwind from the week's stress and enjoy your Friday night alone. Yeah, you did enjoy leaving the house, joining your friends at whatever club they chose, and spending the night drinking and dancing. But you also enjoyed being a hermit and spending the weekend alone in your apartment. Watching your favorite shows for the millionth time, catching up on your current book, and working your way through the wine bottles you've been gifted from holiday parties. And this weekend was the latter.

You hear your phone ringing next to you on the couch. You grab it off the coffee table, turn the TV down as you answer it, and hold your phone to your ear.

“Hello?” you answer, mildly annoyed that you've been disturbed. You were hoping it wasn't an emergency so you can get back to your doing nothing. 

“Hey, sweetheart, are you busy?” Javier’s deep voice comes through the speaker, immediately catching your attention. You sit up a bit, cursing the way he has your stomach fluttering with nerves just with his voice alone. 

You had met Javier at a bar after you sent a whiskey to his table, after much persuasion from your friends, which led to you making out in the back of the bar near the bathrooms, which then led to you, probably against your better judgment, going home with him and having him fuck you. He was definitely the best guy you've been with, and you doubt there will be anyone better.

Since that night, you’ve met with him a few times. Sometimes, it's to have a drink or get food, and then you end the night in his bed. It was always in his bed, at his apartment, or the back of his car if you couldn't wait. 

“For you, Javi? Never?” you tease, but you know deep down it's true.

He laughs at your response, making you feel butterflies. You hated how he made you feel like giddy with a crush. ”I feel special. Can I see you now?” He asks in his sexy voice that has you already saying yes.

“Sure. Where do you wanna meet up, that bar we went to last week or-”

“Actually, I was thinking about coming to you?” You pause when you hear his suggestion, knowing that it could only mean one thing for Javier, and it wasn't to watch the dumb reality TV show you had. You pause for a bit. Before remembering, you have to reply 

“Oh, um…sure Javi, you can come over.” You reply trying not to sound as flustered and nervous as you feel. Trying to rack your brain if Javier has ever even been to your place before. 

“See you in 15.” 

You hang up, looking around your apartment, seeing it’s moderately clean. You sit up off your couch. You haven’t ever had a booty call before. But Javi was Javi. And sure you've been seeing him for a few weeks ever since you met him at a bar, and you've been hooking up with him ever since, but it was always after your date, not a late-night hookup booty call. 

You pause thinking because, youve never really done the whole booty call situation before, you’ve hooked up with a guy but it was usually after a date and it usually mediorce sex, not enough to warrant a second time and definitely not enough for you to call the guy just for sex. But Javier wasn't like most guys, and you hate to admit it, you never would to his face. (The last thing he needs is a bigger ego) But he knows how to fuck. He knows exactly how to hold and touch you. You know you won’t be disappointed. 

You're waiting on your couch, unsure what to do while you wait for your so called friend with benefits to come over to fuck you. Should you make food, or set something out to eat, should you just strip naked and wait in your bed? Get right to it? Fuck. 

A few minutes of over thinking has passed and you hear him knock on you door, you open it and immediately his hands are on your waist as he soon as sees you, your met with whatever cologne makes him smile like vanilla and tobacco with a mix of cigarettes. Placing his lips on you eagerly. You grip his black leather jacket, pulling him closer to you. You make an attempt to close the door behind you with your foot but fail almost embarrassingly. Javier reaches above you, closing the door with his hand, pushing your back against it without breaking the kiss, feeling his tongue in your mouth causes a moan to slip out.

“So did someone cancel on you?” You pull your lips away from his, breathless, but he kisses down your neck. You knew he had his choice of women, probably plenty of other women, so you were confused about why he chose you. You assume that a last minute booty call canceled and he's was closest to you. Still needed to get his dick wet.

“What do you mean Cariño?” He looks confused but still presses his lips against your neck as his hands run up your body, leading you to your couch. You sit with him. His hand goes down to your thigh, rubbing along your skin, showing in your house shorts, still kissing your neck.

“I mean, I know you… I know you know a lot of girls. It's not a secret you get around Javi. " He pulls away to look at you, finally getting your point. 

“I wanted to see you, is that so hard to believe?” He looks at you with those brown eyes that make you melt, rubbing your back as you just sit there, unsure of what to say. He speaks again, breaking the silence,

“Why do you assume that I don’t want you.” He asks, his voice getting lower and deeper, turning you on more as his hand rubs up your thigh, making you shudder. You look down, staring at the silver watch on his wrist, before looking back up at him.

You are hesitant, a bit embarrassed, and you shrug. Not really sure if want to confess that you don't usually have guys over, and you don't really have guys over just for sex or a "booty call.” as the kids say. You decide against it, choosing to stay quiet.

Javier looks at you briefly before slowly grabbing your chin,kissing you. Probably to shut you up but the taste of cigarettes and beer, makes you melt against like always.

He pulls away, looking at you, but his hands never leave their place. 

“Do you want me to leave?” he asks slowly. You shake your head no. 

“Do you want me to fuck you?” He asks, leaning closer to you like he already knows the answer. You nod, shaking your head yes.

“Please fuck me, Javi,” you whimper against his lip, leaning close. He kisses you again, hungrily, slipping his tongue into your mouth, you taste the familiar taste of his cigarettes you’ve grown to love. He gently pushes you against your couch, on your back. Your hands go to his hair, pulling you as close as possible. You feel his hand go to the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down, moving away from your lips to take them off your legs, tossing them onto the carpet of your living room floor.

You hear him laugh a bit, making you sit up. His hand rubs along your thighs, looking at your underwear. You look too suddenly, remembering you’re currently wearing pinky boy shorts underwear with yellow cartoon ducks on them, arguably the least sexy pair you own. You laugh, covering your face. You feel Javi messing with their waistband, smiling. You look up confused.

“These are real cute underwear cariño.” he smiles a laugh coming through his words teasing you about the cartoony fabric before leaning down kissing the skin under your belly button so close to where you’re craving him. 

“I wasn’t expecting you, okay? Sorry, they're not red lacy thongs and thin g strings you're accustomed to.” you justify, slightly jabbing at his numerous sex encounters, a bit breathless as you feel his finger ghost along your core through the fabric, obviously apparent how wet you are from him. 

He rubs his hand along your knees as he laughs again, clearly enjoying teasing you. Javier pulls the ducky boxer shorts underwear down your legs slowly, pressing a soft kiss to your calf as you lift your legs out of them.

“I am not complaining. I don't mind the ducks.” he tosses them down, adding to the article of clothes piling up on your living room floor before pressing another kiss to your inner thigh. He runs a hand up you thighs.

"Pigs, cows, horses, could wear the whole damn farm Sweetheart, doesnt matter to me, only care about whats underneath.” You roll your eyes, never failing to take the chance to be an asshole. You watch as he smirks, laughing a bit. You letout a small laugh too but its cut off with a moan, when you feel him suck on your wet pussy, you close your eyes your finger grab onto his brown locks, as he continues feeling his tongue flicking on your pussy. 

“Fuck….” You moan, bucking your hips up, shamelessly grinding against his tongue, feeling his nose graze against your clit as he continues eating you out. You feel his large hands grab your thighs, spreading your legs open and keeping them there as he continues moving his tongue along your folds. You lean back against your couch, moving your hips up, basically grinding against his lips. Breathless moans come out your lips as he continues eating you out. You feel your wetness dripping down onto the brown leather.

"Javi…javi…" You cry out his name as one of your hands goes to his hair, your thighs close, but like earlier, javi presses your legs apart. He comes up from between your legs, replacing his tongue with the thumb rubbing your clit.

"You're close?….wanna cum?" He asks, obviously knowing you were, smirking like the asshole he is. You nod repeatedly, about to say yes, but it's swallowed by a moan as he slides his pointer and index finger inside your wet pussy fucking you with his fingers.

"I can tell. can feel you're squeezing around my fingers." he curls his fingers up, moving them.

"Such a pretty little pussy, muy preciosa cariño." he whispers, kissing your neck as he finger fucks you.

The sounds in the obscene mixture of your wetness from Javier's fingers, your moans, and Javier's dirty talk make your apartment sound like a scene straight out of a porno.

"Please, javi…" you beg as your toes curl from his fingers. He nods, looking down at you with those pretty brown eyes and a condescending smirk as he finger fucks you.

"Wanna cum on my fingers or my tongue, sweetheart?" Javier asks as he continues moving his fingers in and out.

"Tongue…tongue, please.." he gives a slight smirk before disappearing between your legs, flicking his tongue across your clit. Your moans grow louder.

You feel yourself cumming on his tongue, moves sucking on your clit, making you whimper under him. 

"You taste so good." He removes his tongue to compliment you, he goes to return when you gently hold his head preventing him to going back between your thighs. You couldn't handle it anymore. You needed his dick inside you 30 seconds ago.

"I need you to fuck me, please, Javi." You beg, making him stop. You watch as he slowly puts his fingers into his lips, tasting you,

He moves his arm away from between your thighs as you lay on your couch, breathing deeply. You watch as he unbutton his pink shirt. You sit up, helping him quickly shove it off his shoulders, then impatiently move to unbuckle his belt, pulling it through the belt loops just as fast, unzipping his pants. 

“Jesus, sweetheart, impatient, huh?” He chuckles, teasing as he moves, kicking his pants off. You expect to be met with some sort of underwear, boxer, or something. Not his bare hard cock and the hair at the base of his dick as he leans over you. You freeze a bit, trying to think of the previous times you've slept with him and if he had underwear. You think, realizing this man rarely ever wears underwear and just has his dick out under his tight ass jeans.

“Do you ever wear underwear?” he lets out a small chuckle as he gently moves you lying back onto the couch, lifting your shirt, taking it off, and slowly groping your bare tits. 

"Have some cow boxers for me to wear, huh, ducky?" He teases you again, and you can tell he's never going to let this go. His hands reach under your waist, grabbing your ass and pulling you into a kiss again for a few minutes before pulling away. He gets off your couch, reaches for his blue denim jeans, grabs his black wallet, and pulls out a gold-packaged condom. You watch as he slides the condom onto his big hard cock. Then he returns back to you on your couch, waiting for him.

You feel him ontop of you slowly inserting himself inside your pussy, still wet from your previous orgasm, he grips onto you your waist as slowly slides all the way feeling his thick cock deep inside you, making you both moan. Your head goes over the arm sides of your couch, leaning back as you feel Javi's cock move in and out of your wet core. Your moans grow louder as he fucks you deeper. Remembering why you answered his calls. He never fails to fuck you so deep you can feel it in your stomach and between your legs the neck day.

"Fuck… You feel so fucking good.”His head goes into the crook of your neck, letting out a deep groan. His cock stretches you out, and you feel your walls clench around him. Digging your nails into his shoulders as he fucks you harder. He turns his head, moving out from his neck, and his lips collide with yours, silencing your growing moans. He stops kissing you but stays close, pressing the bridge of his nose against your cheek.

"More… please." you beg turning your head to face him better, javi nods not saying just thrusting faster. You feel his hand reach under your waist, pulling you closer to him, grabbing the back of your leg gently lifting your leg up over the back of your leather couch. The angle lets him fuck you deeper, laying ontop of you. Your moans grow as he thrusts deeper and deeper, making your eyes roll back.

"Yes! Javi.. so close. So close…." You moan, grabbing onto his shoulders, digging your nails into his broad back, scratching it down a little.

"Come on, baby. Wanna feel you cum on my cock. Can feel you clenching around me, fuck. Wanna see you cum." His hands reach between your bodies, rubbing your clit, making you reach your climax and making your back arch, seeing stars as you cum on his cock. Javier is close soon after, Emptying himself inside you. He lays his head onto your shoulder as you hold his head. He kisses your chin, then moves to your lips and lazily presses a kiss to your collar before slowly sliding out of your pussy, causing you both to let out a moan.

You both lay on against the brown leather, breathless, he lays his head against your chest kissing it one last time. You lay there together for a few minutes before Javi pulls himself out of you, standing to take the condom off, tying and tossing it in your trash. You watch as he grabs his pack of cigarettes and lighter from the back of his jeans. Placing a cigarette between his lips as he joins you back on the couch, but before he can light it, you sit up a bit. 

"Uh huh, go open a window or 2." Javier rolls his eyes at your demand but follows it regardless. You watch as he stands up, and walks over to the window in your living room, opening 2 windows, still bed ass naked. 

"Go ahead and flash my neighbors, too, while you're at it.." You tease as you grab the reason for your embarrassment earlier, the white duck underwear, putting them on but remaining shirtless as you watch him. 

He lets out a laugh and goes over to the couch, joining you. He picks up your legs and moves them to rest on his lap, gently massaging your feet and calves. "You have curtains… no one is flashing anyone ducky." He responds, smirking and smoking his cigarette afterward. You roll your eyes at him, but the feeling of him rubbing your calf turns you on, the same as all the other times he touches you.

"You're not gonna start calling me that." you protest, shaking your head. You sit next to him, enjoying the feeling of his on your legs for a moment until you move your legs off him to stand up off the couch. 

You stand up, leaving to use your bathroom. After a few minutes, you come back, walking to your living room, turning towards your kitchen. You see Javier's back facing you, his broad back on full display as he looks in your fridge, clearly looking for something. It takes you a minute before looking down and see he's still naked. You take advantage of how good his ass looks, allowing yourself to stare at it before reason comes in, grossing you out a bit. Remembering how he is standing with his dick out in the place where you prepare your food.

"Do you have anything besides wine?" He asks, clearly unhappy with your limited selection of alcohol. "No whiskey or a beer, even ducky?" 

"Can you maybe put your pants on when you're in my kitchen? And no, Javi, I don't drink whiskey or beer. It's wine, water, or nothing." you say then go back to sit on your couch. Javi goes over to the living room, picks his jeans off the floor, and puts them on. His cigarette still hanging between his lips. You watch, feeling disappointed, settle in as he grabs his shirt and puts it on. You assume he's leaving but you don't make a big deal, you've known how Javi his. You try to look nonchalant as you reach out to your coffee table, pouring another glass of the red you were drinking before he came.

"Leaving already?" you ask, not gazing up from the glass, but you can see his form putting on his black leather jacket out of the corner of your eye. Asking a bit coldly, trying not to show any emotion.

"Going to the corner store down the street and getting some whiskey. Wine isn't really my drink choice." He says as he finishes putting on his black leather jacket and puts on his shoes. You watch as he removes the cigarette walking over you. He leans down, holding your face to kiss you. The kiss lasts for a few minutes before he stops. 

"I'll be back, ducky. Relax," He winks as he tells you. Again, calling you ducky, you can tell it was gonna stick. Walking over to your apartment door, leaving your apartment. You get up shortly after locking your door. Fucking a DEA agent, you can't be too careful.

You return to your living room but look out the window, seeing Javi walking down the street toward the 24-hour liquor store. You smile a bit before sitting back on your couch, sipping the red. You can't help but think of him and the new nickname you had earned tonight: Ducky. You can already tell it is going to stick. 

Ofc I had to include this gif lets see if tumblr allows it 🙂‍↕️

tags: @joelmillerisapunk @baronessvonglitter

[604to647]

Photocopies

2.2K / Javier Peña x fem!reader

Summary: You catch Javi off guard in the embassy photocopy room.

Warnings: Angst (sorry!), longing, some hurt (no comfort). Previous relationship, mention of past infidelity (or is it??). Mainly Javi's POV. Nicknames as usual (Pretty bird, baby).

A/N: This is a direct follow-up to Birthday Present, taking place S1/S2 Narcos, ~2 months after reader’s birthday; I don't think you need to read it but it gives some context. I'm sorry, there is no HEA for these two dummies yet, this is just another little one shot (not quite ready to commit to writing another long series!), but I hope those of you who remember them from Birthday Present will still enjoy seeing them again 🥹🥰

Dividers by @saradika-graphics / Tagging @milla-frenchy who knows why 🥹😘

Mierda. 

Javier can see the consecutive flashes of the photocopier’s green scan light accompanied by the hum of the machine in repetitive use as he walks down the hall towards the U.S. Embassy’s main floor copier room.  It sounds like whoever’s occupying the photocopier is in the middle of a big job – he sighs with an air of unjustified frustration.  Such would be his luck when he’s already running late for his meeting with the CIA attaché. 

He rounds into the room chest first, ready to barrel over whichever unfortunate intern stands, however unintentionally, between DEA Agent Javier Pena and something he needs to hopefully get ahead of Escobar, when he’s stopped dead in his tracks.

It’s you.  You, with a thoughtful look on your face as you adorably chew your bottom lip while counting the sheets in your hand, surrounded by neat piles of paper covering every available flat surface in the copier room.

Mierda. 

Still preoccupied by your collating project, you haven’t looked up to notice that you’re no longer alone in the small, stifling room – out of consideration or cowardice, but most likely both, Javier loathes to disturb you.  He hasn’t spoken to you in nearly four months - he’ll be damned if the first time he does so causes you inconvenience.  He’s already done so much worse to you. 

Fuck it - those spooks can make do with one copy of his Satellite Repositioning request.  If the CIA needs a second copy so badly, let them come down and make it themselves, he convinces himself.  Javier steps back silently, slowly backing out of the room. 

“How many copies do you need?”

Stunned by the sweet lilt of your voice, Javier remains motionless.  He suspects that you don’t know it’s him, but rather you had felt another person’s presence in the room and your considerate nature simply offered what you intuitively knew was needed.  But to his surprise, your eyes meet his directly when he looks up; he searches them for any sign of distaste or distain now that you recognize him as your intruder, but sees nothing except sincerity.  Your hand is already outstretched, waiting for his form.

He should leave.  Say he changed his mind about needing copies.  Say he got lost in this building that he’s worked in for years.  Say something.

“Don’t want to interrupt you.  I’ll come back.”

You throw an easy, encouraging smile his way and wave your still reaching hand dismissively in graceful sweeps that only serve to remind Javier of how effortlessly charming you are; your voice an enchanting song with its lightness, “I’m going to be forever.  Come on, gimme.”  You wiggle your fingers playfully, beckoning Javier to give over his paper - not knowing you also call for his heart with this enticing gesture.

He can refuse you nothing, though you could never know that, and hands over his single sheet readily, “Just one please.”

You take his form and titter to yourself as you diligently set aside the stack you were organizing, careful not to lose your place before laying his paper face down on the glass to copy, “I’ll make you two, just in case.”

Though the sound of the copy machine whirling to life fills the room, the silence between the two people in it somehow rings louder.  Javier looks around awkwardly, his eyes taking in the goliath of paperwork that you were in the middle of taming – should he apologize for interrupting?  No, it would likely ring hollow to your ears; he’s committed worse transgressions for which he still owes you an apology.  But the lump in his throat compels him to engage you; he’s a man starved, ready to beg for any meager scraps of attention you’re willing to throw his way.

“I thought you had a secretary to do all this admin for you – is Renee away?”

You laugh and the sound chimes in Javier’s ear like a chorus of cathedral bells; he never thought he’d have the honour of drawing such music from you again.  “No, she’s here.  But when it’s big booklets for interdepartmental meetings, I just like to do it myself.”

Right - Javier knows this about you.  You take such prodigious care with everything, of everyone.  Any fool at the embassy, and there were many, could see you’re a powerhouse, work ethic and dedication unmatched, and completely deserving of the respect and praise you reap – he’s always been proud of you.

Handing him his two copies and original, you toss Javier another soft smile before turning back to your task.  Whatever this interlude was, whatever grace granted him a few moments of cordiality with you is gone now, and Javier takes the papers from you with a genuine, but melancholy, “Thanks.”  He heads out of the room, feeling somehow happier and yet just as lost as he has been these past few months.

“Javi?”

He’s stopped again, this time not just by your melodic voice, but the song of his shortened name on your lips – his own heart longs to sing back a response in duet.  Turning, he finds you already looking at him, the irises of your knowing eyes swirling with tenderness, 

“Thank you for my birthday present.”

How did you know?  Javier had been so confident in the stealth of his actions, he’s silence by the revelation that you know he left a gift on your desk two months ago.

“I wear them all the time,” you turn your elegant neck slightly to show Javi the silver hair clips, each adorned with a small, delicate bird, tucked prettily behind your ear.

He manages to choke out a confession, “I know.” 

He does know.  Like a lovesick magpie, Javi’s heart would leap every time he caught the flash of silver in your hair at the embassy: during the meetings you expertly lead that he had the privilege of attending, via quick glimpses of you as you hurried towards the breakroom with your colleagues for a much-needed cup of coffee, when he stole longing glances at you from the DEA’s offices down the hall from the windows that ran alongside your desk in Treasury.  Each time you wore them, it gave Javi a surge a pride (and some relief) to know that amidst all the pain he had caused, he could still bring you some joy.

You’re looking at him now, eyes shiny and full of emotion, “I love them – they’re so beautiful.  Thank you for having thought of me.”

Javi’s body carries him across the small room and into your waiting arms of its own accord. All the strength he strains to wield on a daily basis in order to stay away from you evaporating under that tender gaze he thought had been forever lost to him.

He holds you close but not too tight, unable to tear his eyes from the sweetness of your expression.  How could you still look at him with anything other than disappointment, hate?  Despite what he did, you remain good.  Kind.  Feeling.  You wash over him like an inevitable wave and Javi wants more than anything to drown in you again.

“You’re welcome, baby.”

Baby.

Drinking in his soft utterance of the endearment, you earnestly study the man who was once yours.  Javi looks apprehensive and guarded, like he can’t quite settle into the tenderness of this moment – expecting at any second for you to shove him away, curse him.  Your heart aches to witness his anxiety – he’s still the man you knew, believed in: one whose bravado and tough exterior harbours a sensitive and deeply feeling heart, one who never thinks he deserves good things even when he extends himself for the sake of others.  You take Javi’s face into your hands, feeling the flex of his strong jaw beneath your palms as he inhales and swallows deeply at the loving gesture, still convinced this unexpected peace will be ripped from him.

“Do you miss me, Javi?”

How can he possibly answer but truthfully? Even if you weren’t looking at him so tenderly and with such vulnerability, Javi’s never been able to hide from you, lie to you. Insinuate falsities, yes. Mislead, perhaps. But outright lying? Never. How could the moon ever lie to the sun?

“Yes, pretty bird. Every day,” Javi closes his eyes and presses his forehead to yours, sealing in the truth of his words.

He’s being selfish.  It’s selfish to want to pull out the knife that’s lodged permanently in his chest; the one he placed there himself when he broke your heart, to stab and remind him with every breath he takes of what he’s lost.  What he’s broken.

If he could remove the blade for even a moment, then for that moment he can be your Javi again.  The one you trusted to take care of your heart.  The one who was ever grateful that an angel like you saw something in him, something he thought had long been snuffed out by the savagery of the Columbian sicarios and the cruelty of Escobar.  The Javi you had patiently nurtured back to life with your compassion and gentle touch.  The one whose vow of love you never questioned; he hadn't thought himself capable of such devotion, but you had easily unlocked it from within him with your own.

Selfishness wins today.  Javi removes the knife and lets himself be that man again with a tentative press of his lips to yours.  Immediately, he’s overtaken by the honey of your kiss – every brush of your pretty pout reminds him of all his favourite kisses with you: soft, secret kisses in hidden corners at the office; hard and heavy make outs outside the embassy walls away from prying eyes; tender kisses of promises intended to be kept while on dates or just laying in bed; possessive, dangerous kisses used to muffle moans of pleasure not meant for the ears of any other; hungry and urgent kisses heralding toe-curling, earthshattering orgasms; and sweet kisses of affirmation after every declaration of I love you.

Javi kisses you to make up for every single kiss he’s missed since he kissed you last.  He kisses you like he has the forever with you he threw away so cruelly all those month ago.  He tightens his arms around you as you melt into his kiss, momentarily forgetting how to let you go again.  Your soft whimper of surrender into his mouth jolts him back to reality.  He doesn’t have forever with you.  You aren’t his, and you shouldn’t be his.  He’s been warned.

It’s time to put the knife back in and Javier knows it won’t just be his own heart he wounds when he does so.

“Baby, we can’t.”

“Javi…” The way you say his name now has none of the harmony that invited him in earlier; this is a plea.

“Pretty bird, I’m no good for you.  Look at you – you’re perfect and you have everything going for you.  Everything you are is beyond my wildest dreams – you’re destined for the kind of future that has no place in it for a guy like me.  You deserve someone who can give you the best things in life.  You deserve someone better than me.”

You’re shaking your head, ready to argue and Javier thinks, no – he knows you would prevail.  He’s come over to your side of every argument the two of you ever had - won over by your intelligence, your passion, or simply for the joy it brought him to give you anything you wanted.  He has to put a stop to this before your eloquence and kindness can disarm him, so he pushes the knife in further, “You deserve someone who can be loyal to you.”

Javier can physically feel the flow of air that rushes in to fill the space created between the two of you as you shrink away from him.

It’s as if he can see the cinema in your eyes replaying that horrible scene from four months earlier when you caught him bare chested and pants unbuttoned, with a half naked Vanessa on his couch.  And just like that, the ache of his betrayal is renewed and your hurt rolls off your frame in lines so thick Javier thinks he might be able to pluck them out of the air with his fingers.

He twists the knife, even though it kills him to do so, “I never got the chance to apologize for that. I’m sorry.”

You nod, otherwise unmoving - stilled by that old pain you thought you had buried dead threating to crawl up your tightening throat.

Javi’s shoulders hunch, drooping with a defeat of his own making, “Thank you for the copies.”

“You’re welcome, Agent.”

Agent.

And just like that he’s Agent again.  Not baby, Javi, or even Javier.  Just Agent.

This third time he goes to leave the copier room you don’t stop him and Javier is thankful; unable to trust himself should he look back at you, he doesn’t – Agent Pena sets his face to a grim scowl and stalks down the hallway away from the best thing that ever happened to him.  Grateful that you had the forethought to give him an extra copy of his form, Javier discards the top sheet before going into his meeting – it’s completely unusable: the words on the page blotted and blurred from tears he didn’t have the strength to prevent from falling, the ruined, damp paper evidence of his failures.

[andy-15-07]

Could you write some Javier Peña hurt comfort ? I miss him ! Sth like you having unbearable headaches but stubbornly refusing to rest or sth

Hold Me Through the Storm

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Word Count: 1087| requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

You lean against the chipped tile wall of the safehouse bathroom, knees sinking into the cold linoleum as your hand presses against your temple. Light flashes behind your eyelids, a pulse of heat and pain that makes the world spin.

"Y/N?" Javier Peña’s voice echoes in the hallway. He steps inside, anxiety dancing in his dark eyes. "God, you look pale. Are you okay?"

You straighten against the wall, trying to force a smile. "Just… a headache. I’ll be fine." You swallow, tasting bile. "Could you,could you get me some water? Please?"

In the cramped space, he crouches beside you, balancing a plastic cup in one hand. "Talk to me." He presses a damp washcloth to your forehead. "You’re burning up."

You shake your head. "I told you,just a headache. I can’t miss this briefing, Javi."

He sets the cup on the sink and cups your face in his hands. The sudden closeness makes your heart stutter. "Y/N, you’re dizzy." His thumb brushes your cheek. "You sound drunk when you talk. Let me call a medic."

"No." Anger flickers in your chest,at him, at the throbbing. "I’m not going to the medic station. I’ve got papers to finish, interviews to prep."

Javier’s jaw tightens. He stands and grabs your file folder from the counter, tucking it under his arm. "That can wait. No way I’m letting you push yourself into the ground."

You push off the wall, but the world tilts, and you have to catch yourself on the sink. "Stop it."

He crosses the small room in two strides, one arm sliding around your waist, the other steadying your shoulders. "Stop what? Trying to keep you from collapsing?"

Your legs buckle and he catches you. "I’m fine. Just… migraines. I’ve had them since," you trail off, the memory of that bullet denting your memory of peace. Javier’s gentle hand smooths your hair.

He lowers you to the toilet cover, sitting you down carefully. "Jesus, I hate that you’re in pain. We’ll figure this out." He sinks to one knee, his face inches from yours. "Talk to me."

You close your eyes, voice small. "Ever since Mazatlán… since the cartel hit that safehouse… I’ve had them. They won’t stop. I,I don’t want to waste pills on a headache when real people get hurt every day."

Javier’s shoulders sag. He reaches for a bottle of water and two ibuprofen tablets. "Here." He tilts your head back gently and pours water past your lips, then drops pills to the back of your tongue.

You choke a bit, but he’s fast with more water. "Better?"

You press a hand to your nose. "A little."

He exhales. "Good. Now lie back." He helps you onto the closed bathtub ledge and props your head on a rolled towel.

When you settle, he steps back and fetches a blanket from a hidden stash. He wraps it around you,gentle fingers brushing your arms. "I’m not going anywhere."

In the silence, you stare at the faded yellow tile above you. "Javi?"

"Yeah?"

"Promise me something."

He sinks onto the floor beside you, one arm across your stomach. "Anything."

You look at him, eyelashes wet with pain and pride. "Promise me you’ll get help if this gets worse. Promise me you won’t let me just… suffer."

He drops his head, pressing his temple to yours. "I promise. Medicines, doctors, you name it."

You nod, relief flooding you. "Thank you."

He runs a finger along your jawline. "Even if you won’t let me baby you?"

You grin weakly. "Even then."

He smiles back, but it falters. He wraps his arms tighter, as if squeezing you will trap you here, safe. "Just rest. I’ll handle everything else."

You drift toward sleep, the edge of pain dulling. You murmur, "Promise me you’ll stay."

He brushes hair from your forehead. "Always."

When you open your eyes next, the bathroom is darker, the faint light of dawn filtering through a high window. Javier is slumped in the corner, head resting on his crossed arms atop his knees.

"Javi?" You croak.

His head jerks up. "You’re awake. Good." He pushes to his feet and offers you a shaky smile. "You took a long nap."

You try to lift an arm and discover it draped around your waist. He frowns. "Sorry."

You shake your head, voice stronger. "Don’t apologize. You were here."

He kneels beside you again. "Got worried when the pills didn’t knock you out. I stayed by your side. Didn’t even notice I passed out."

You reach out and cradle his cheek. "You need sleep too."

He leans into your hand. "Not if you need me." He stands. "Come on. Breakfast,I mean, coffee,is waiting. And I promised to bring you back to bed. Offer still stands."

You push yourself up, legs wobbling but steadying. "Sounds like a good plan."

He offers his arm and guides you out of the bathroom. In the small kitchen, he places a mug before you,scalding black coffee. You hug the warmth in both hands.

"Thank you," you whisper.

He watches you sip, worry etched in every line of his face. "Y/N, you have to let me help you more. You can’t keep doing this alone."

You set the mug down. "I know. I’m sorry."

He settles next to you at the table, one shoulder brushing yours. "Promise me something else."

You cock an eyebrow. "What now?"

He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Promise me you’ll tell me when it’s too much. No more silent suffering." His gaze is fierce and steady. "Promise?"

You inhale, meeting his eyes. "I promise."

He exhales, relief washing over him. He brushes his thumb across your knuckles. "Good. Because I don’t plan on letting you out of my sight. And you’re stuck with me, remember?"

You smile, the ache in your head receding, replaced by something warmer. "I wouldn’t have it any other way."

He grins, his hand tightening around yours. "Now come on,let’s get you back to bed. Lying in a stiff uniform can wait."

You stand and he wraps an arm around your waist, guiding you back down the hallway. Your steps match his, slower, steadier.

As you disappear around the corner, his final words drift after you:

"I’ll always be here to catch you, Y/N,headaches, bullets, nightmares,whatever comes."

And in your chest, you know it’s true. You lean into his side as he walks you home to rest and recover,comfortable in the knowledge that Javier Peña will never let you face anything alone.

[thetriumphantpanda]

i think he did it | javier peña

Take The Weight Off His Shoulders - Chapter Ten

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

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

Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count | 2.2K

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are we?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wasn’t me.”

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

“She give you this last night?”

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

“Yes, sir.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Javi,” You interrupt, “Stop.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mmhmm.” Is all you can manage.

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

[magpiepills]

Bat Presents:

All content below is 18+ and not intended for minors.

Please do not copy, translate, edit, distribute or print my work, in whole or in part. Not for use with AI. My fiction is my own original interpretation and transformation of the source material.

Please read warnings at the beginning of each fic!

I do not use AI, I do not approve of AI, and I block accounts that do.

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SMUT BELOW

Joel Miller

Only Teasing

Got It Wrong

Taurus

En El Mar

Into The Deep End

Put It In Coach

Made Me Love You (The Bangfest) complete

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 Pit Stop extra

Plow

Downward Dog,

Butterfly

Another Kind of Hunger

Airtight

Austin, Texas On A Rainy November Saturday, 2002

Austin, Texas On A Cloudy January Sunday, 2003

Doin’ Time

Like A Boy Does

Take It Easy

Clint (Freaky Tales)

Got Your Money

Javier Peña

En La Calle

Escritorio

Hard At Work

Aquarius

I’m Not Really A Waitress

DIY

Sweet Tooth

Promises, Promises

Promises Broken

The File Room

Frankie Morales

Honor And Obey

Say It

The Run

Once and Future

The Layover

Submission

Ezra

Sagittarius

Kill Shot

Not For Nothing

Code Duello

Coming soon ✨

Dieter Bravo

Here Today

For Her Pleasure

Lucky In Kentucky

But Baby, It’s Art

The Oasis

Marcus Pike

Misunderstood

Dave York

Strange Currencies

Gemini

Din Djarin

A Rite

Marcus Moreno

Girl Lunch

Same Time Next Week

Lucien DeLeon

Watercolor

Make Me

Ted Garcia

Vote For Ted

Silva

Divining Rod

Tim Rockford

God Speed

The Late Shift

Overtime

Mario (snl)

Game Over

Jack “Whiskey” Daniels

Rope & Ride

Bonus thots

Javier Pena

Marcus Acacius + Lucius & Dieter

Under The Weather HCs

Manus Aureum

Girl Scout Cookie HCs

Getting High With Frankie

Miniature Smut

A collection of one paragraphish smut based on various porn gifs.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Ride

Summary: Javi's a ride you can't resist (aka, it's more PWP LMAO)

Word Count: 1.9K

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Warnings: It's all porn again, sorry- Javi's POV, unprotected p in v (pls do not do, but who am I to say), oral (m receiving), Javi is down BAD for you bouncin' on that thang, idk y'all, make men yearn insatiably 2025 is the motto for the year, I don't make the rules

A/N: Hey, remember when I said I was gonna write this and then didn't? Guess who finally finished this thing 🤠 Shout out to @yxtkiwiyxt for gracing my brain with this idea, and to @gothcsz for being insane about it with me!!! @jolapeno I'm dragging you into this, too heheheh y'all, it seems like it's 24/7 horny hours over here, so apologies about being insufferable for This Man™️ enjoy, before someone eventually (and inevitably) calls animal control on me!! (we're also considering this piece a research project, fellow pillow princesses rise up LMAOOOOOOO)

He doesn’t notice the way the corner of his lip has been turned upward since he left your apartment. The strain in his cheek muscles are the last part of his body he’s concerned about. 

It takes everything in him to pretend like he’s did have to waddle to his desk through the office this morning. While there’s a part of him that curses the fact he can’t handle himself the way he used to as a younger man, he’d be lying out of his goddamn teeth if he said that he’d never been happier to be this sore. 

And he’s only got you to blame. 

It’s safe to say his work efficiency is absolutely fucked today. The only thing he has the mental capacity for is the image of you, straddled across his hips, riding him until he was half way convinced he’d never walk again. 

It had started off innocent enough, your body draped across his on the couch, re-runs of a sitcom he couldn’t be bothered to remember playing in the background. It wasn’t long until you had found a way to crawl into his lap, cute and giggly pecks of your lips shifting into a frantic dance of tongues and teeth, hungry and needy. 

“Let me take care of you, Javi.” 

You had whispered it in his ear like a siren song, the sultry promise of your words making him grow harder by the second beneath you. 

It was a luxury he had forgone for too many years to count, to let someone else take the lead- to work herself slowly into his lap, worship every inch of him, and fuck him in a way he was convinced he’d never be worthy of. 

In Colombia, sex was far from luxurious. Better yet, sex was a survival instinct- a way to gain intel from questionable informants or a chance to finally numb his mind from the pressure and terror of the things he’d endured, even if just for a little while. It simply existed as another need, like food or water, a way to keep him alive in the chaos of a cartel ridden country. 

But now, he’s home. He wakes up in the morning to the soft Laredo sunrise and closes his eyes to the cicadas chirping as the sky shifts to darkness, unburdened by the weight of the world that used to haunt him. Now, he slips into bed next to the warmth and softness of your figure, curled in the sheets next to him. 

Now, the world is different, because he has you.  

Sex is no longer a need. It’s an overwhelming want that stirs his stomach every time he sees you. It’s a desire that burns deep in his chest, an all consuming thought, an itch he just can’t scratch. No matter how hard he tries, he just can’t get enough of you. 

He still doesn’t understand how you can’t get enough of him, either. 

It’s not your words that solidify his belief that he’s worthy of you, even though every time you talk to him, he’s convinced he can’t breathe- He knows you love him from all the things your words can’t say. Your tender touch, gentle kisses on his lips whenever there’s a chance for them to meet, the way you can’t help but let your hands wander his body until they’ve explored every part of him with a fervent promise of desire. 

Perhaps there will always be a part of him convinced he’s not deserving of you, but with the way you have your hands wrapped around his cock, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, it’s all the convincing he needs for right now. 

It’s not long until your hands become your mouth, tongue dragging up and down the length of his shaft, swirling around his tip before sinking down so deep, he can feel the huffs of warm air from your nostrils tickling the hairs at his base. He’s lost in the warmth and wetness, hand tangled in your hair as he cradles the back of your head, gently guiding you up and down while you take him down your throat. 

As if he wasn’t wrecked already, it’s the devilish grin you shoot him with his cock buried deep inside your mouth, split dribbling down the corners of your curled lips, that has him all but whimpering, soft expletives and moans rapidly spilling out of him. 

He’s so drunk on you, eyes closed and head tipped back against the edge of the couch, he’s barely even registered when you’ve stopped, only looking up at you when he feels the way your weight has shifted, one hand bracing yourself against his chest while your hips hover over his cock. 

“You ready for me, cowboy?” 

He swears that one day that smirk will be damn near enough to kill him, but God knows he won’t let today be that day- not with what you’re about to do. 

All he can do is nod, the both of you breathless as you begin to sink down his length. It’s almost painfully slow, the way you’re taking him an inch at a time, teasing him the whole way down until you settle with him stuffing you to the brim, whining as your hips finally flush with his, taking everything he has to give. 

He’s not sure what higher power he needs to thank that you have the mercy to start slow- anything but the later, and he would have had no choice but to finish right then and there. His arms reach around your waist, fingers dipping in the dips of your hips as you roll them, like he’s holding on for dear life. 

Javi wishes his hands could be everywhere as you lean down to kiss him, that they could grope and grab at the plush of your breasts, cup your face, and smack your ass all at once. He needs you in a way that’s all consuming, a way that lets you know how lucky he is to have every part of you be his, and his alone. 

He’s handsy and fumbling like a goddamn teenager- you know it just as well as him. He should be embarrassed by the little giggle you give him in between the muffled moans of your mouths meeting, but he doesn’t care. Instead, for the first time in years, Javi laughs along with you. 

“Handsy, much?” You tease, nostrils crinkling and lips curling. 

“Can’t get enough of you, hermosa. Can never get enough of you.” 

You grant him one last kiss before you pull away, biting down on your lip as you watch his jaw drop at the way you shift your hips, leaning back to drag your cunt up and down his cock, sliding effortlessly with the way it’s drenched with your slick. 

The once forgiving ease of your pace has dissipated, your bottom half rocking as you ride him. He can’t decipher if the sultry smile spread across your face is from your own doing, or from the way he’s looking up at you, entranced and captivated by every movement you make. 

It’s enough of the second to seem to spur you on, bouncing faster on his length as your hands creep up your own chest, cupping your breasts in your hands to hold them as they jiggle. When your fingers slide across your pebbled nipples, tweaking the hardened buds between your index fingers and thumbs, Javi all but short circuits. There’s an extra ache in the way his cock throbs, watching the show you’re putting on for him. 

There’s something harmonious about the way your moans melt with the slap of your hips meeting his. Sure, it’s lewd, but fuck, if it isn’t the hottest thing he’s ever heard, watching you lose yourself in pleasure with the warmth and wet of your pussy wrapped around him. 

“Fuck, baby. Fuck, you’re so perfect. Look so fucking pretty bouncing on my cock.” 

He’s not sure how he even has the capacity to form coherent thoughts anymore, desperate and needy babbles falling from his parted lips like an endless waterfall of praises, just for you.  

“Feels so good, Javi. So fucking good.” 

Your cocky facade is beginning to fade, eyes scrunched shut in focus with every thrust up and down his length. It hasn’t taken him long to recognize the expression now plastered across your face- Javi knows it’s the reflex that tells him you’re close, that it won’t be much longer until you’re clamping down around his cock, the sound of his name hitching in the back of your throat as you cum. 

Your once methodical rhythm has transformed into something fiercely frantic, arching your back so that you can reach behind and brace yourself on his thighs, fingertips digging deep half moons into his skin. 

He’s too all consumed to do anything but watch, to take in the beauty that radiates off of every part of you straddled across his lap. 

He relishes in the melodic symphony of your moans, muffled and mixed with expletives between heavy breaths, lost in the soft sheen of sweat glistening over your skin, shimmering from the way you’ve all but conquered him, hips grinding down on him, taking all of him over and over. 

There’s a selfish war raging in his head amidst his mesmerization- One side wishing he could stay like this forever, keep you perched over his lower half, cock stuffed inside you until your bodies give out. The other prays you cum sooner rather than later- He won’t until you do, and lord knows it’s taking every ounce of self restraint he has left to make sure that happens. 

Fuck, maybe you really are trying to kill him. 

“Oh f-fuck- Fuck, I’m close, Javi.” You whimper, your grip around his thighs growing impossibly tighter as you furrow your brow in focus, not daring to let your pace falter, not when you’ve found the spot where the head of his cock fits perfectly inside you. 

“Use me, baby. Fuck- use me, pretty girl.” 

It’s not much longer until you’ve reached your peak, feeling the way you tighten around him as you soak his length with your slick, the once steady rhythm of your hips faltering as you cum. 

Your head thrusts back, chest heaving as you cry out his name, over and over, a sound he swears he’ll never tire of as long as he’s alive to hear it. Because when it falls from your lips, it stirs something so deep inside him, knowing he’s the reason you feel this way. 

That you’re his. 

There’s only moments until Javi’s following suit, fingers buried in the soft dips of your hips as he takes one final thrust, moaning into the crook of your neck while he cums, letting your pussy milk him of everything he has to give. 

The two of you have become a hot, sweaty mess of limbs, melting into each other’s bodies, unsure of where one starts and the other ends. But even with your head rested against his shoulder, he can feel the way your cheeks tense to house the smile spread between your lips. It’s only then he recognizes the same strain in his face, the subtle smirk he can’t seem to shake whenever he’s with you. 

It’s also then he realizes, as long as he’s with you, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to. 

“What’s that grin for?” You tease, sitting up to plant gentle kisses on his cheeks, brushing away the dark curls dangling over his forehead. 

“You drive me fuckin’ crazy, you know that?”

“Well, good thing I feel the same then, huh?” 

Both your smiles stretch wider as he cups your jaw in his palm, his hand just big enough to let the ends of his fingers wrap around the back of your head, pulling your mouth to his, letting your lips lock for a moment before you break away. 

“Thanks for the ride, cowboy.” 

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