#soft javier peña makes me so weak

[titabel]

never knew how much i needed a mermaid and javier pena crossover until now. wow wow wow this was so good!! love a soft javier pena🥹

part of your world

Javier Peña x Mermaid!Reader

summary: you know the surface is dangerous, but how dangerous can it be with a man this gorgeous

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. Post Narcos Season 3, one brief threat of drowning, magic & fantasy, mermaid lore, light gendered language, soft!Javi, protective!Javi, major pinning & yearning, light angst, Javi and his use of nicknames, instance of violence/gun usage with blood & severe injury, heavy implied smut with spicy/soft moments

word count: 9.9k (i’m sorry)

a/n: our first fic of our mini mer-may series! this is my love letter to all of us who played mermaids in the pool & dreamed of a handsome prince waiting for us, I couldn’t have done this without @perotovar @burntheedges @saradika & @tuquoquebrute cheering me on… I can’t thank you babes enough! And to you, if you read this - I’m so thankful for you too ♡

The storm approaches fast, looms in the air with a brewing quiet spark you can feel on your skin.

Yet the men in the boat continue to unpack, getting ready to sail.

You’ve been watching them since they arrived here earlier today. This part of the pier is your favorite to watch surface dwellers in the protection of the waves and the shadows.

It’s a quiet season this time around the Gulf. You’re even surprised the men are even out here. Two seem youthful, playfully kidding with each other. Most of them seem older, wear their age lines beautifully with smiles and laughter.

It’s why you love watching the land dwellers so much. The beauty of embracing their age among a turbulent world is admirable.

Or maybe you just enjoy watching these humans because one has caught your attention.

Older yet still young, a weariness floats around this man. He moves around with confidence on the boat and is incredibly beautiful. His deep dark eyes remind you of the earth’s soil. With a sharp jaw, nice facial hair and handsome nose - he’s unlike any human you’ve ever seen.

Cautiously and protectively, the man keeps an eye on one of the older land dwellers, his father possibly with how similarly they look. You admire that. He also makes sure all the fishing lines are safe and secure while the others talk with excited glee. But you ache to cry out in protest, urge them to stop because you sense what’s approaching that they might not.

“Maybe we should stay put, Pop.” Your handsome human says, and your heart jumps. Maybe he senses it too.

The man, his father, waves him off saying to not worry.

Dread fills you fast watching the ship slowly leave the port. Diving under the waves to follow, you just want to be sure they make it back.

The ocean shifts tempestuously. The boat isn’t even that far from the harbor when the storm unleashes its fury. The sea swirls in that wildness. Even among the waves you hear the screams from above.

Before you can reach the surface, someone falls into the water.

From the color of the shirt you know exactly who it is.

You swim as fast as you can to your handsome human now under the waves. Even for you, a strong swimmer, it takes a lot to fight against the surge until you have the man in your arms and swim towards the surface. Your tail thrashes strong against the current.

You keep the surface dweller pressed above you, shielding you from the eyes of the others on the boat.

The man you’ve saved coughs out the water as you try keeping him afloat while also staying hidden. Cries of joy erupt over seeing him.

The waves continue splashing against you making it harder to stay hidden. Then a loud boat horn arrives. Your eyes snap to the side.

A familiar red aid ship approaches.

Fear clutches you fast. They might see you. Then a wave rises high, and you can’t fight against the ocean’s power. It takes you and the man underneath it.

The water knocks you out a bit breathless. But you also see this as a chance to save this human then finally make an escape among the turbulent waves.

Securing him solidly in your arms, you swim back to the surface. With all your might, you guide him up to the shadow of the boat.

The yelling on the surface is loud, chaotic and frantic.

“There! There! I see him!” Someone cries. You support the man under the water, holding him up from the waves until he’s hoisted out.

While you watch him rise about, you sink below.

From the cover of the nearby rocks, you watch the rescue boats guide the main ship back to safety. Everyone scrambles to check on the man you rescued.

His father cries holding him and it’s a treasured sight. But you don’t miss the way your human’s eyes scan the water, almost frantic and confused -

Like he’s searching for something.

You try not to linger on that and instead descend back into the water.

-

Talk swirls about the boat saved during the storm and the man who fell overboard and survived.

You don’t want to embrace pride, but you soak in the nice satisfied truth knowing you helped.

But you’re tired, worn from the waves. You should have maybe stayed deeper under the water for the day. So after lingering around the dock, you move to a secluded spot beneath the larger pier. There’s a few sand dunes and you swim to rest halfway on one of them.

The sound of the waves soothes you. Slowly, you close your eyes.

“It’s you.” Until a human man’s voice arrives, and your eyes snap open panicked.

Off to the side along the coastline stands the man from yesterday, the handsome human.

In the sun’s glow, he’s radiant. But this is dangerous. He’s spotted you. After your wide terrified eyes lock with his, instantly you jump into the water.

You could have sworn you heard him scream out “Wait!” but you’re swimming too fast to even turn back around to check.

Even under the safety of the sea, your heart rattles wildly in your chest, erratic.

He saw you, that handsome surface dweller saw you.

-

There’s a warning tale that’s spread among your world.

One of your kind fell in love with a human, went to the surface and lost her heart.

She never returned, presumed to be dead. She became a haunting story told as a warning. That tale, along with many other frightful encounters, repeat over and over in your head now.

You shouldn’t have come back.

But you just had to check.

You vow this will be the first and last time.

Peeking out slowly from the water, you almost sputter out in panicked surprise.

That man sits on the shoreline. He’s waiting.

He’s alone or seems alone, and even brought a full pack of items.

His lovely deep eyes continue scanning the waves.

Is he looking for you?

He has to be. But are his intentions pure is the true question.

Staring at him this long becomes your downfall. His rich soil eyes catch you. Immediately the man bolts up, and you drop just below the surface.

“I saw you!”

Just barely below the waves, you can hear his voice a bit waterlogged.

“Please. I promise I won’t hurt you.” He urges.

You don’t know if you can trust him.

But wanting to make sure, you pop your head up just a bit. His eyes are gems, precious dark gems shimmering bright and vibrant when he sees you. You ache to swim closer.

“You’re real.” He exhales out.

You simply stare at him.

“Can you understand me?” He asks a bit slowly.

Deciding to be braver, you rise up more from the water.

“Maybe.” You answer then watch as the man stumbles back stunned.

“You…you can talk.” He stammers.

You decide to be coy and simply shrug.

“What are you?” The man presses.

That’s the line. You’ve already done too much. You shouldn’t have come at all.

“Javi! Javier? Hey, primo, where d’ya go?” Someone calls and the surface dweller turns.

That’s his name.

Javier.

It’s perfect.

But someone else approaches, and it’s enough to terrify you. Sinking back into the water, you linger again just below.

You hear the man, Javier, cry out another loud “wait!”

More voices come and tease Javier.

“Mijo survived the sea and now can’t get enough of it.” Someone teases goodnaturedly.

Soon all the voices announce they’re heading back.

“Uh, give me a few. I’ll head back in a minute.” Javier replies.

The voices leave, but you still refuse to rise above.

“I hope you’re still here.” He says. Fear clutches at you wondering if you’re visible from the surface.

“Or fuck, maybe I just hope you are.” Javier sighs.

Then a moment passes.

“I just… just wanted to say thank you.” His voice even under the water is sincere, deeply earnest.

You’ve never once thought you would ever hear a human thank you and so sincerely. Before you can stop yourself, you rise up fast out of the water. But he’s gone.

The next morning you swim to that same spot.

Your throat feels tight when you already see him walking down the beach as well. And once you and him spot each other it feels like the world melts a bit.

This time you also swim and stay a little closer to the shore line.

“You came back.” Javier mutters in disbelief.

“So did you.” You reply back.

This is the most you’ve ever spoken with a land dweller.

“Thank you.” Javier breathes out. “For saving my life.”

You nod.

“Are you feeling better?” You ask, knowing humans have an unfortunate condition of experiencing a delayed drowning within their lungs.

“Oh yeah, I’m good.” Javier nods. “Apparently the medics and coast guards still can’t understand how I managed to make it out pretty good but…”

His eyes twinkle looking at you, and a prickly like sensation sparks across your skin

“I thought I was seeing shit when I saw you.” He mutters. “You looked like something out of a dream.”

The waves keep you afloat, but you feel weak.

You even softly smile back to him.

“It’s understandable. Most of your kind think we’re manatees afterall.” You tell him and Javi’s eyebrows shoot up.

“So you really are a mermaid?” Javier blurts out.

You never fully understood where that name came from. You simply shrug a bit playful and enjoy the amused snort of a sound Javier gives.

“Well, whatever you are, I owe you my fucking life.” He exhales, and again his words dig deep into the core of your being.

The tiniest smile tugs at your lips.

“So do you just hang around and what, save unfortunate guys like me that go overboard?” Javi asks moving to sit on the sand.

He wants to stay and talk with you. You swim just a bit closer.

You shake your head no, unfortunately telling him you often stay hidden.

“We’re not meant to communicate with others on land, much less be seen by them.” This is already one of the worst offenses.

But you’re too far gone, and you know that.

His beautiful face scrunches up. “So then why did you save me if you aren’t supposed to?”

You couldn’t reveal it’s because of how you were immediately drawn to him. Instead your heart speaks faster as you shrug.

“I can’t really tell you why, I just knew I had to. I could sense the storm coming and just…I happened to be at the right place at the right time I guess.”

You knew how foolish surface dwellers could be. Yet, there was something weathered but compassionate about Javier.

His face flickers while his mouth drops. You don’t know if you’ve said something wrong.

Then a bashful half grin tugs at Javier’s soft lips, and your heart feels light like the sunbeams on the waves.

“I’m Javier.” He blurts out, and you grin.

“Javi.” You repeat the nickname you heard used for him.

A surprised twinkle flashing in his eyes colors him youthful, and he smiles bright.

“Yeah,” He nods. “So what’s your name? Can I at least know that?”

This is a point of no return, and you’re already this far.

So among the warm waves, you give your name to him freely.

The way his face lights up hearing it is incredible. Then hearing him repeat your name back, breathing it from his lips, feels sacred.

Everyday after that you meet him at this same spot either early in the warm morning or in the soft evening breeze when he’s done with his day. You learn he’s staying here with his father for a month to visit family.

“My Tío,” he explains. “He’s been needing some help around his place. So my dad and I decided to just enjoy some time out here.”

It means your time with him is limited, precious, a pearl you just found from an oyster that you want to hoard now.

As curious as you are about him, it’s no surprise Javier is just as eager to ask questions.

“Do you have a uh…family I guess nearby?”

“No.” You answer him truthfully, wistfully. “I haven’t seen them in a while.”

It’s been many moon cycles since you left home.

“Wait, why?” Javier’s face frowns as the sea breeze tussles his hair. Your fingers ache to already brush it aside.

“They were going to force me to marry another of my kind, someone I didn’t care for. And I couldn’t handle it. So I left.” You simply tell him the truth.

You wanted a choice, that’s all. But your family refused to allow you that.

“Oh… I’m sorry.” His voice, gentle and kind, feels like a warm morning glow.

“Must be lonely out here.” He adds a bit sorrowful, almost aching.

Your eyes can’t handle how soft, how piercing his gaze bores into yours. So you glance to the ocean now. The sun reflects like glass onto the waves. When you first started visiting the surface, you reasoned it was to understand land dwellers more. However, in your heart you know it’s because of the loneliness.

Laughter, vibrant music, the smell of delicious food, the ache of belonging, it all swirls from the shoreline almost beckoning to you.

“Sometimes,” you finally answer Javier. “But it’s alright. The sea provides.”

The saying you were raised with still rings out true.

The sea brought you here and brought you to him.

And it’s something special.

During an early morning, Javier approaches the water this time. Normally he stays on the shoreline. You’ve been the one creeping closer and closer through the water towards him.

Now you’re stunned.

He’s bare chested and wears swimming shorts you’ve seen other surface dwellers wear among the waves. But it’s the amount of skin you’re seeing, the broadness of his shoulders and small pudge of his tummy, your mouth feels dry.

“Thought I’d maybe get in the water this time.” He says bashfully, but with confidence he walks into the waves.

He’s brave. You thought after falling into the sea, he would hesitate to return. Yet he moves with a confident grace.

“You’re brave.” You even tell him, not hiding your admiration.

He barks an amused laugh.

“Yeah well, seen worse things than the water.” Javier says a bit darkly.

That perks up your curiosity.

Soon enough Javier steps closer, until he abruptly freezes.

“Is this okay?” This considerate man, he’s asking if you’re alright with him getting closer.

You nod, instead find yourself swimming out a bit further, deeper, into the ocean.

And Javier follows.

Now to any bystander on the beach it’s like you’re another land dweller among the waves floating with him.

Yet the call of the sea, your nature and upbringing, slowly seeps in. You begin swimming around the man. It’s a trait to circle around something you desire and want to keep within your eye watch.

It’s a dance. While you move slowly swimming around him, his eyes never leave yours. That is until a wave jostles you both. It pushes you closer, almost colliding into Javier until his warm hands steady your shoulders. He’s touching you.

Among the splash of the water, being so close to him, your tail flutters accidentally brushing against him.

“So it was a tail.” He mutters like he’s trying to believe it.

While his eyes stare down at the water, yours stay focused on him.

Self conscious, worried and nervous, you try swinging your tail out of his sight.

“Es hermosa.” Javier adds.

You’ve picked up many dialects here among the coastline. He’s calling your tail, you, beautiful.

You can’t handle how badly your soul now seems to ache for this man and how your heart races wild. So with the waves settled you quickly move back to swimming around him.

Feeling giddy, you playfully move your hand against the water splashing him. Javier blinks of his trance, sputtering when the salty sea water hits him.

“That’s not nice.” He scoffs then moves to splash you back stronger.

It becomes a childish competition of splashing each other until seaweed unknowingly curls around Javier making him react in horror and you laugh. In playful retribution, he throws the seaweed at you.

“Be careful, I’ll send dolphins after you.” You tease, and his eyes go wide.

“Can you talk to sea creatures?!” He asks excitedly.

You laugh even harder, shaking your head no. Javier narrows his eyes, slightly suspicious. Playfully he splashes you again. Laughter escapes you buoyant.

“Javi!” Until someone yells out from the shoreline, and your heart drops.

Snapping your eyes to the shore, there’s a few men waiting, staring out.

Panic swarms in you. Your body jolts to move, until Javier’s arm gently moves to hold you steady.

“Don’t leave. It’ll make it more obvious.” Javi whispers under his breath. “Just relax, stay calm.”

“What’s a pretty thing like her doing with a pendejo like you?!” One of the young guys yells out with a joking laugh.

Your heart races petrified. The waves keep you concealed, but having this much attention and being raw in the open feels too much.

“Fuck off Richie.” Javi scoffs back in a yell.

“Dumbass fucking friend of my cousin.” He explains to you with a gruff mutter.

Yet his hand gently drags down your arm to go to yours. His hand, so much bigger and warmer, squeezes yours.

“It’ll be okay. Don’t worry I’ll keep you safe.”

His words warm, soft and gentle on the breeze, get tangled in your heart. With a final squeeze to your hand, he swims back towards the land. When Javier reaches the shore and gives you a casual wave, you weakly smile back.

As they leave, you don’t miss the way one of the men, Richie, if you remember right, turns to glance at you over his shoulder. His eyes terrify you with how piercing they stay on you.

But the minute Javi and those men fade off the shoreline, you fade into the waves.

-

Having the other land dwellers see you is a grim reminder of how reckless you’re being.

But you don’t want to stop.

If anything, it makes you simply want to draw Javi to you even more. The humans painted your kind as temptresses who lure people to the sea and to their death. You understand now why. There’s an unexplainable urge burning in you to draw Javier further towards you, like the pull of the tides to the shoreline.

So the next time you see him, you tell him to bring his swimwear and to save the day to be out at sea.

One of his eyebrows lifts a bit curiously. “And you’re not telling me where we’re going?”

You simply smile, toothy and wide.

The sun is kind today and with no harsh wind it’s a peaceful day among the waves. Javi, with his glorious warm sun kissed bare chest slips into the water with you and hisses.

“S’fucking cold.” He sneers, and his face crumples into a grumpy handsome pout.

“Feels fine to me.” You joke. Javi gives you a dry look that makes you grin.

The spot you take him to is further down the coastline, across the beach wall, and you’re thankful it’s not too far. It’s also a bit more secluded against the higher rocks that act like a slight barrier. The water gets shallow towards the edge of the rocks blending in towards the tide pools. It’s a comfort getting to stay in the water, yet the low tide allows Javier time to fully walk comfortably.

“Woah!” He gasps bright when his eyes fall to the tide pools.

“Holy fucking shit.” He whispers.

You simply watch him hypnotized. He points out the different creatures he spots, the way the water changes among the rocks coloring, its beautiful.

“I didn't even know this shit was here.” He mutters.

Not many do.

“That’s not all why we’re here.” You tell him warmly.

With a nudge out to the open waves, Javier and you turn just in time to see it.

A sweet dolphin, porpoises as the locals love to call them, jumps out among the waves.

Javier’s surprised gasp is beautiful.

“They always love to swim here, a lot less people.” You explain.

Now you move to slip under the water. It’s been a while since you’ve used your voice to click and make the chirps to call, but you’re thankful the dolphins hear you.

You beckon Javier to join you deeper in the water and he eagerly does. The pod swims up eagerly. Even a few jump to pop their heads up.

“You said you couldn’t speak to sea creatures!” He exclaims, and you laugh.

“I can’t! Think of it as making a noise to call for a land animal. That’s all I did.” You explain.

His gorgeous face scrunches up grumpy, almost unsatisfied, with your answer. Snickering you return your focus back to the sweet creatures swimming around.

A few of the dolphins are more playfully curious than the others and readily take in the attention you and Javi give to them. One even particularly gets jealous when Javi moves to pet another and she squeaks out in protest even pushing up against him.

His laugh is pure magic. His eyes crinkle beautifully, and you think you’re seeing one of the world’s hidden treasures.

Eventually the dolphins take their leave. Javier makes his way to a safer spot along the shoreline and after checking the area, seeing it’s still pretty vacant, you allow the waves to wash you up to the beach.

Alongside him, you lounge on the shore.

It’s the closest you’ve been to him, the most you’ve ever been on the beach itself.

Your entire scaled lower body is practically out in the open for anyone passing by to see, but you want to be this close to him. You don’t want the water to keep you seperated.

“Are there…others of your kind around here?” He asks low.

You shake your head. “Not recently. I’ve found an older abandoned cave of someone that maybe possibly lived here, but no one has emerged.”

He hums in acknowledgment.

“Do you miss them? Your family?” Javi questions quietly.

Sometimes you do miss them, and you truthfully tell him that. But you don’t want to return to your family or your people. Now he again asks about your world, about your family. So you tell him of deep glimmering underwater caverns all across the sea that house your kind. He listens with complete rapture.

“You know,” you add a bit amused. “You’ve handled learning about me and all of this really well.”

Javi snorts.

“Well…my family told me to be respectful of things we don’t understand. There might be some shit out in this world we can’t explain, and that’s okay. We don’t need to argue with it. Instead just maybe gotta learn from it.”

You can sense that in him. He never once seemed afraid of you, instead approached all his questions and curiosity with genuine understanding.

“Besides, I’ve seen crazier shit so this doesn’t really surprise me.” Javier adds with a dry but hollow snort.

That reminds you of what he said before. So you mention it gently.

“You said there are worse things on land than the water, what are they?”

Javier turns to you. His eyes dance in the brilliant sun and they look like brighten earthen soil gems. Yet there’s a wary and weary heaviness in them.

He explains about his old occupation on the surface world, about how he chased after bad men in Columbia. You nod, explaining you’ve heard of that country because of the ports.

“You know where Columbia is?” His eyes go wide.

You teasingly roll your eyes at his surprise. “I do know enough about our worlds Javier.”

He shakes his head. “You continue to surprise me, mi sirena.”

The term, sweetly affectionate, causes something in your gut to flutter.

However, all of that gets quietly put aside as Javier continues his quiet explanation of the shadows and darkness he saw.

You stay silent, letting him explain it all - the horrors of watching men fight over power and money, the corruption, the lives lost, the weight of it all showing him a grim reality that sometimes rears its evil head within humanity. Your eyes even fight back tears.

He’s seen so much, been through so much, and it all hangs on his shoulders.

Without hesitation your hand moves to rest against his. The urge to comfort him is so powerful, and you don’t want to fight it. His eyes now flutter down to your hand where his fingers gingerly begin stroking against your skin.

“Are you ever going back?” You ask softly, worried about him returning to that darkness.

“No. Never going back or doing that type of work again.” He shakes his head.

“Good.” You reply relived.

Javier smiles charmingly bashful, and it’s adorable.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you.” He quickly recovers diverting your attention to something new. Delicately his hand reaches out to your chest and you freeze.

His hands delicately graze against your necklace.

“You wear this all the time. Is it something special?” Always so curious, your land dweller.

“Looks like one of your scales, same color and everything.” He adds.

That’s because it is, and you tell him that.

On the day you became of age, you shed one of the scales on your tail and have it blessed by the sea and moon. The legend has it that the scale is promised to hold one wish. But that was a tale told to you as a child. You simply now understand it’s a mark of passing into maturity. It’s been a constant companion for years ever since.

Javi’s eyebrows raise up in surprise.

“Do you think that legend is true?”

You shrug. “I’ve never known it to be. Always thought it was just fantasy.”

Javier snorts.

“You don’t believe in fantasy?” He questions incredulously.

Playfully you shove his shoulder, and he snickers.

Now a silence settles. The crashing waves become the only noise floating between you and him. Neither his hand or yours leaves the other.

“You said… your family wanted you to be with someone of your kind that you didn’t like…” he now begins cautiously breaking the silence.

“So did that mean there was someone else you cared for?” Javi suggests.

You snort a bit playful, yet answer a quiet no.

“There was a land dweller I had been curious about, but it was just a simple passing fling.” You admit.

“Oh.” Javier answers, but his voice deflates enough you even catch it.

He’s annoyed with that answer.

You’ve been infatuated with other land dwellers before, but it was like seeing the stars above. You admired their beauty from afar and that’s all.

Javier feels like a precious gem discovered from a sunken ship, a treasure you want to keep forever and cherish. He feels rare, so good and in your grasp almost too precious to hoard. Or maybe you just aren’t worthy of him.

You move to hold his hand better.

So you tell him. You’ve never let anyone get this close, never even once spoken to another human.

Yet here you are.

“There’s no one like you. I don't think there will be anyone else like you.” You admit before you can stop the words.

But they are true. No one will ever be like Javier, a man so worn by the world yet still so kind.

His eyes again flicker to yours, and you’re trapped in his gaze. A shift sparks in the air like the way it does before a storm approaches. It tingles against your skin, and something aches in your chest.

His eyes flicker to your lips. Your body shifts closer to him caught in his warmth.

A loud blare of a boat horn comes. Pure fear crashes into you.

Without hesitation Javi practically drapes himself over you. His arms draw around your head like a shield trying to cover most of your body up with his.

His eyes and yours stare to the side worried at what approaches. But thankfully the boat now sounds like it’s reaching shore further away.

The scare felt too real. Worry rages in you wildly. Yet, it’s quickly drowned out by Javier.

He’s close. Javi’s chest is against your side, against your tail. His arms are on either side of your head and he radiates warmth, such a warmth you never knew others could hold. Maybe it’s because he’s a landweller, or you think maybe it’s just because it’s him.

This position is precious even for you. You’ve spotted humans mating on the beach before. You can even admit how curious it’s made you.

Now a raw heat burns through you. Javier sighs, then glances down at you beneath him.

The shadows dance on his face so wonderfully, highlighting his striking nose. You wonder how terribly it would be to slither your arms around him and pull him down to you. Your mouth even waters seeing the sweat on his skin, and you imagine how it must taste mixing with the salt of the water, your home.

It’s simply just you staring up at him, him staring down at you and sound of the waves.

“We…we should head back.” He says clearing his throat.

The entire swim back to the main shoreline is silent, feels like a weight hangs among you and him even when you tell him goodbye.

Later among the solitude of the night and waves, you dream of Javier. But something dangerous sneaks into your fantasies. You fantasize being entangled with him as a human, two legs wrapping around him, getting to know his body against your own. It’s fierce, knocks the wind out of you, but also unleashes a sorrowful ache into you.

You wonder what it would be like as a land dweller because a more clouded doubtful piece of you can’t imagine Javier desiring you now.

Even with the admiration you’ve heard from him, you imagine that a man’s handsome as Javier wouldn’t desire someone like you.

A splash of water hits your face, and the saltwater you notice mixes well with your silent tears.

-

The next morning when you arrive at your usual spot to meet Javier, a soft pink conch sits on the shoreline and your blood runs cold.

For your people, a conch shell is a way to communicate. They’re used to convey many different messages from marking territories to a warning.

You reassure yourself it simply washed up on the beach as all seashells do. But the way it sits precariously placed scares you overriding any of the anxious energy you had about seeing Javier again.

“Did you…leave this here?” You even ask him about the conch when he arrives.

“Uh, no. But it’s pretty.” He says lifting up the shell to examine it. “Funny enough my Tía collects shells like these so much that my uncle even jokes they could open up a store.”

You weakly smile trying to be amused, but the dread hangs in your stomach.

When Javier leaves, you try gathering your thoughts.

“I take it you saw my message.” The new voice is warm.

Walking down from the other side of the pier, an older woman emerges. Her eyes, wrinkled by the corners, watching you seem kind and streams of gray color her dark hair.

You want to bolt back into the water out of fear, but you’re confused and want to understand more.

“I can see your hesitation, young one.” She says. “My name is Gloria and I’ve been watching you for sometime now.”

Now you’re panicking.

This must be your punishment for growing too close to Javier.

Before you can react the woman reaches at her dress collar and pulls something out.

A necklace with a scale attached to it. Except this scale doesn’t shine with color but instead appears cold, lifeless.

The wind is knocked out of you.

“So you understand now.” Gloria smiles, however there’s a cloudy hesitation forming in her eyes.

This is your warning brought to life. She is the real woman who left the sea, went to land -

And she is alive.

There's so much you want to ask her. Everything feels so overwhelming.

“We don’t have much time to chat.” She gently tells you. “I promise I’ll answer all your questions soon, but you must know…”

A dark gloomy frown falls over her lovely aged face.

“Someone is looking for you.”

You’re a bit confused by her words.

“And I don’t mean your land dweller.” She adds and dread claws into you monstrous.

Someone else. Someone else saw you.

“Javier wouldn’t tell anyone about me.” You fire back, fierce and hurt.

“You need to lie low, stay hidden.” Gloria orders somber and serious. “Maybe even find another place to nest for some time.”

Fear grapples with something fanged inside your heart. You don’t want to leave Javier. You don’t even want to hide from him here, much less leave him.

Gloria must see the conflict on your face, and she sighs. A grandmotherly sadness washes over her.

“I’m sorry, young one.”

You swallow back the tears.

No, this is the truth. Javier was always going to leave back to his hometown eventually. Your time with him was limited, not guaranteed. This is just a reminder of that.

You shove away the tears stinging your eyes and thank Gloria for alerting you.

She grins sad but soft. “I wish you well. Please be safe.”

“Wait.” You call out to her. Even though you still have so many questions, want to ask her so many things, there is only one thing you need to ask before she leaves.

Gloria turns back with a patient look.

“Can you fall in love with a human this quickly?” You try keeping your voice level, but it breaks under the weight of your emotions.

Gloria frowns, heartbroken. Her eyes swim with an ancient understanding crystalline with sadness.

“I fell in love the instant I saw my husband,” she smiles beautifully among the ache. “He rescued me from a fisherman’s net, and I never looked back. I trusted the water and it provided.”

The familiar saying of your kind.

Your blink away tears.

“Then how can I leave him?” You croak back to Gloria.

“You need to so you can keep him and yourself safe,” she answers with the patience of a mother.

A quick desperate thought flashes in your mind. Your hand flies up to clutch the shell hanging from your necklace.

If the children’s stories were true, if you actually had one wish -

Gloria’s eyes go wide, and she inhales fast.

“You make that choice, you can never go back.” She declares sharply.

“Wait, what?” You ask a bit confused.

“You may get your wish, but it will come at a cost.” Gloria tells you dark and somber.

Dread consumes you. So her shell’s discoloration was because she used her wish.

“What’s the cost?” You sob.

“Whatever the sea wishes to take.” Gloria’s answer feels final, a raw cut through your inner most soul.

With one final sad nod, she wishes you well and leaves you alone under the shadow of the pier with your unbearable heartbreak.

“Hey, you alright?” The next morning Javier notices your demeanor.

“Yes, just a bit tired.” You smile false and small.

You don’t know how you’re going to break this to him. You wonder if you simply should just stop showing up, break it off quick and painful but fast. But even then you can’t face that possibility.

“So tonight,” Javi says, trying to brighten the mood. “We’re having this nice dinner at that restaurant further down right on the water.”

“That’s lovely.” You tell him truthfully with a warm soft grin.

His eyes soften, but you avert your gaze, unable to handle the truth barbed in your heart. Then gentle fingers suddenly trace against your face, almost too afraid to fully touch you.

Your look to find Javier’s eyes hazed over staring down at you.

“It’ll be nice to know you might be out there in the waves, mi sirena.” He mutters.

The danger is imminent. You need to leave or simply tell him what’s been going on. But that fear is overshadowed by the unbearable adoration for Javier.

You rationalize that this will be your final glimpse at Javi before you tell him the truth.

So when the night falls you swim low and quietly to the restaurant.

The lights and warmth, the upbeat musical, all radiate from the dock the restaurant sits at the edge of. You’re able to swim around the outdoor area with enough cover.

Gently peeking up from the waves you find the view is clear. A few people sit and stand outside around the edge of the railing thankfully not even glancing out to the ocean.

That’s when you spot him.

Your eyes go wide.

Dressed in a simple white button up, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Javier is otherworldly.

He’s too handsome for his own good, the surface world’s handcrafted temptation for you. All you can do is sink more into the water hoping the cooling waves bring you back to reality.

He leans on the rail facing the open sea. Those dark eyes of his flicker out and now you realize, he might be searching for you.

Your body moves on its own. Tail swishing, you swim closer to his line of sight gravitating towards him.

But then a shadow of someone approaching comes and you stop. One of the men you remember vaguely appears besides Javier.

“Whatcha looking for, vato?” The young man jokes nudging Javi, but your eyes narrow seeing how annoyed Javier looks.

“Can’t I just enjoy the water, Richie?” Javi jokes.

The man, Richie, is the one you remember staring at you so intently.

“You lookin’ for your sea goddess?” He says loud, mocking.

Javier reacts fast. He snaps turns towards Richie with the quickest speed, and a hard glare transforms his face.

“Why you acting up like that, viejo?” Richie grins antagonist.

“Don’t know what you’re fucking talking about, Ricardo.” Javier snaps low and serious.

“You know exactly what I mean.” Richie growls. “And you and your cousin and Tía y Tío might all think I’m crazy, but I know what I fucking saw that night you went overboard. I saw that fucking creature that saved you.”

Fear bubbles up dizzying.

Richie is the one searching for you.

You can’t move. It’s too much.

Until Javi jolts into action. He grabs Richie by the collar and a deadly darkness falls over his face.

“Enough.” Suddenly Javier’s voice drops.

Then he quickly speaks to Richie so low that even swimming just a bit closer you can’t pick up what Javi says. But it’s spoken deadly enough that when he shoves Richie away, the younger man glares at Javier silently. Then he simply walks away.

Javi defended you. He’s kept you, your secret, safe.

You can’t describe the emotion that cracks your heart open wide. From the waves you stare at him unable to look away as he sighs pinching the bridge of his lovely nose.

You ache to soothe him.

But, someone else seems to as well.

“You look like you could use some company.” A woman, gorgeous and giving Javi a soft smile, moves towards his side.

All that tender adoration dwelling in your heart turns sour when Javier turns to converse with her. He smiles politely and kind.

They lean against the wooden railing, eyes focused on each other and Javi says something to make the mystery woman laugh. His eyes crinkle, the same way they do when he smiles at something you say. Javier gives her his full attention and jealousy strikes its fangs venomous.

But the truth is worse. This is another reminder Javier was never maybe meant to ever be yours.

You jump back into the sea, unfortunately making a splash announcing your departure. But a part of you wants him to hear and know you’re leaving.

Out of habit you arrive at your secluded spot under the pier by the shoreline. Your eyes sting as you squeeze them shut refusing to let yourself cry over this. At least this will help make it easier when you bid him farewell tomorrow. You sit for a moment gathering yourself.

Footsteps rush on the sand, and you panic.

Immediately Javier jogs in from the side, out of breath and already sweaty. He must have ran all the way over here.

“Mi sirena,” he exhales heavy.

You swallow hard.

“I…I didn’t know if you saw…” Javi begins curiously.

You don’t know how to reply, dont even know if you should.

“I…” his voice starts but gets stalled as if he doesn’t know what to say either.

“It’s alright.” You reassure him, graciously thanking him for keeping your secret.

“You should get back to your companion. She’s lovely.” You tell him surprisingly composed.

“You seem upset.” He argues.

You reassure him you’re not.

“No, you’re upset. What’s wrong?” This man, annoyingly stubborn, presses.

You snap back that it's none of his concern.

“Tell me.” His voice takes a sharper turn.

“It’s nothing! Go back to your party, human!” You snap, and the word leaves your mouth sharp.

You’ve never once called him that.

His eyes go wide a bit, like he’s even a bit taken back at what you said. You blink away the tears stunned at your own emotional outburst.

“I’m sorry.” You quickly apologize, already furiously wiping away the tears.

He says your name soft. “You’re crying.”

His footsteps come closer and you snap your face away trying to shove more and more tears.

“What’s wrong?” Javier crouches down to sit besides you on the sand.

“I’m just upset about what I said, that’s all.” You half lie through a broken voice.

“Why won’t you just tell me the truth?” He urges concerned.

Because, you want to tell him, it’s too much to hold.

You feel like you might break.

Suddenly his warm hand gently slides across your cheek. Slowly he tilts your face towards him, and your mind stalls feeling his fingers against you.

In the night air, under the dim shadow of the pier, his eyes seem like the endless sky.

“Dígame, mi sirena.” Talk to me, he says soft and tender.

Your words fail. Instead you feel greedy, desperate. Your hand moves to clutch his hand and lean into his palm while your eyes shut.

The tears come again.

The air feels cold against your skin.

“I don’t want to let you go.” You admit, finally freeing that truth.

“I’m not going anywhere, honey.” Javier softly replies firmly.

That term, you’ve heard it used by other surface dwellers, and you want to sink your teeth into it.

Wearily your eyes open to stare at him once more. Now his eyes seem hazed over and his lips parted open. His lips look so soft while his eyes swim cautiously. You’re worried any moment now he might turn into seafoam before your eyes.

In a blink, Javi surges towards you. Like a fast rip of a wave crashing into you, his lips press to yours.

You’ve never kissed a land dweller. You’ve imagined it a few times, especially now more with Javi in mind. But none of those fantasies do this justice.

He’s so warm, intoxicating like the most dangerous ambrosia. You whimper when his body slides you closer to him. Your hands claw at him more.

You need him closer, want him intertwined with you

Eventually you lean back, until your body rests against the sand, and Javier kisses at you from above. His tongue seeks and licks into you with a melting consuming heat. You moan into his mouth feeling dizzy at how delicious he tastes.

He breaks away first needing air but kisses your jaw, nipping at your skin.

“Wait.” Javi exhales and slowly draws back. Even among the brewing heat, the passion burning through your veins, his eyes are hesitant.

“You okay with this, mi sirena?” He asks, gentle and steady.

This unreal wonderful man. Your hand cups his cheek now letting your thumb stroke against his warm skin.

“It’s you. It’s only ever going to be you.” You whisper.

His eyes widen, letting your words sink in and then he turns to kiss the palm of your hand.

“Are you okay with this?” You now turn the question delicately back to him.

He nods quietly, slowly. Then you watch the way his eyes darken, like storm clouds that create a wonderful whirlwind sweeping you up.

“Then take me.” You mutter drawing him closer to you.

There had been someone, an elder in your kind, who once engaged in passionate matings multiple times with a sailor. She was shunned from your colony for her transgression, but the stories she told became forbidden whispers told among everyone. She swore the mating with her sailor was nothing she ever felt before, how that type of passion was indescribable.

And she was right.

Javier’s body heat burns through you. His tongue and teeth clash, devouring you. His body temperature compared to yours runs warmer, and it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced. It’s hot, messy and soaks you euphoric. You’re consumed, utterly drunk on this as you beg for him to give you more, give you all of him.

And when he enters you, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. He’s perfect, stretches you incredibly deep and heats you from the inside you never knew was possible. You wonder if this is what the creation felt like, this clash of heat and passion crashing, forming new caverns in your soul.

He kisses every inch of skin he can reach, and you clutch onto him like he’s your lifeline.

Listening to the grunts of Javier’s voice, feeling his body mold into yours, even tasting the salt of his skin, melts you.

You’ve never felt more cherished than when his hands traced over your skin, never felt more ecstasy than when his passion clashes with yours.

There under the shadow of the pier, with the waves crashing onto the shore, you meet orgasmic bliss in his arms.

Eventually, in the afterglow, in the late quiet of the night, his fingers trace across your tail.

“You’re amazing.” He mutters out.

Your fingers trace against his bare forearms.

“I could say the same about you.” You tell him truthfully. All the stories he told you about his time in Columbia, the way he loves his family so fiercely, he’s a rare soul you want to keep forever.

He barks a laugh, hollow and small. “Not compared to you, mi sirena.”

Emotions clog your throat.

“That man…Richie-”

“He won’t find you.” He quickly replies cutting you off sharp and simple, like he won’t even acknowledge the idea.

“But you’re in danger too, Javier.” You urge.

“He’s just a punk ass kid, my baby primo’s best friend. He won’t do shit.” Javi reassures.

Gloria’s warning resurfaces in your thoughts, and you swallow hard. Fear and doubt cloud your thoughts.

“Is this your way of repaying a debt to me?” Before you realize it, the words leave your mouth.

“Wait, what?” He questions.

You sigh, watching the dark waves out at sea.

You’ve always wondered why Javier was so adamant in visiting you, why he’s become so protective.

“I’ve wondered…” your voice trails off distant and small. You tell him the deep worry that’s been brewing.

You’ve wondered if he’s simply here with you, doing all of this, as some means to repay you back from saving his life. That his interest is simply born from a sense of obligation.

Javier says your name, firm and solid.

With a hard frown on his lovely face, he shakes his head.

“At first I just wanted to thank you. But now…now I can’t fucking stop thinking about you. Don’t even wanna think about leaving you.” Javi admits quietly.

Your heart becomes crystalized, heavy and heated from his words.

His gaze returns to your tail, and fingers again reverently stroking against your skin.

“I’ve seen so much shit, been god damn burnt out. Then you reminded me of how fucking beautiful this world is.” Javier adds.

Stories told about the surface dwellers painted them as ruthless, cold, and selfish. But Javier isn’t like that at all. He’s incredibly curious, kind, protective, a bit grumpy at times. And he’s beautiful.

He’s the one who showed you the true beauty of the land above.

You slowly sit up, possessed by a deep emotion surging through you. When you rise, you lean to kiss Javier again. Your land dweller welcomes you with a warm embrace.

-

A net falling over your face wakes you in a panic.

Your body thrashes up only to find netting all around you. Fear drums loud in your ears.

Being worn out from the night’s escapades with him, you must have fallen asleep on the beach after Javier left.

A loud excited cackle cracks into the air.

“See! I fucking told you that bitch was a mermaid!”

Richie’s voice rings out terrifyingly loud. When your eyes snap up, the young man’s shadow falls above you and he smiles sinisterly. The sun isn’t even fully up, yet you see his face clear as day.

“Man, what the fuck?” Someone sputters, and your eyes flicker to the other individual here. You take it this other young man worried and a bit wide eyed must be Javi’s cousin.

“See! I knew your fucking primo was keeping this thing hidden, Leo!” Richie cries.

The net is grand, doesn’t seem to end as you try scanning around trying to find the edge of it. Your next plan of action will be to scratch your way out of it. You rarely use your claws, but this is dire.

Richie and Javier’s family member continue their frantic discussion in the early morning air.

“What’dya plan to do with her huh?!”

“Imagine the fucking money we’d get!” Richie answers proud.

The two bricker now and you can’t even pay attention to them. Fear poisons you fast, and you’re getting frantic. It’s now or never.

Once you feel your nails grow into claws deadly and sharp, you start tearing your way through the net mesh.

A strange clicking sound comes, and a loud gasp follows.

“Richie, what the fuck?!” Javier’s cousin, Leo, sounds petrified.

You still, turning your gaze to the source of the sound and find something pointed at you from above.

You’ve never seen one up close, but you’ve heard of these weapons, know of them and their instant death -

A gun.

“You brought your dad’s fuckin’ gun?!” Leo shouts.

“Didn’t know what we’d expect.” Richie sneers, but keeps his gaze on you.

“You try escaping and I’ll blow your fucking head off.” He tells you, and terror sickens your stomach.

You can’t even jump in the water. The net is so large and you’re so tangled in it.

“What the fuck is going on?” Javi. His voice comes in a breeze of salvation.

Your land dweller emerges from the side of the pier, and his face falls at the sight.

Hope tumbles in dizzying fast but collides with fright. Especially when Richie jumps at Javi’s entrance and swings to point the gun at him.

Leo yells loud in protest while Javi holds his hands up defensive but stays composed.

“I knew you were keeping this freak all to yourself. What? Didn’t want me finding it?” Richie spits.

Javi’s eyes flicker to yours for a split second. You lock onto his dark gaze and swear you can hear what he’s trying to silently communicate.

“What do you plan to do, huh?” Javier turns his attention back to Richie. “Manage to get her onto land and then what? What do you plan to do after that?” Javi’s voice is steady, an unwavering lighthouse among the storm.

He’s diverting attention onto him. Especially with how furiously Richie begins yelling at him not even noticing you.

“Man Richie, just put the gun down.” Leo urges.

You scramble back to the net, freshly grown claws at the ready and try cutting through the thick mesh. You need to focus, but your hands keep slipping out of terror especially hearing how loud they all scream now.

Continuing to cut, focusing with all your might, thankfully you start slicing through the threads.

“Hey, what the fuck are you doing?!” Richie yells.

Then instantly a loud bang comes.

A scream escapes you with how loud the sound comes. Then a sharp pain jolts through you like getting stung by a stingray, but intensified. Your tail feels like it’s on fire and you cry out.

You snap your eyes down. Whatever the gun fired off just grazed you, but blood begins spilling crimson over your scales and into the water.

Then commotion erupts. It’s a scuffle and soon enough Javi moves to tackle Richie.

But another loud loud bang rings out.

It happens fast. In a blink Javi rushes against Richie. Then the next he’s crumbling down onto the sand. Blood spreads soaking into Javi’s shirt and another scream rips out of you.

Something raw and monstrous, like a red haze, clouds you. You fully rip through the net and out of meshing. The most inhuman scream comes. You don’t realize it’s you screaming until your claws swipe at Richie’s legs with vicious intent.

You slice and slice not even caring blood leaks onto your hands, or that Richie cries out horrified falling onto the sand. Leo sees the opportunity, jumps in and tackles him fully, knocking the gun away.

Your hands shake, but you scramble around looking for Javi.

Your land dweller manages to drag himself closer to you, but the bleeding is getting worse. Color drains from his beautiful face. You don’t even care how much your tail stings. You pull yourself onto the sand towards Javier until you move to draw him into your arms.

The tears fall fast and uncontrollable.

“No tears, mi sirena.” He wheezes with a soft sight. “It’s alright.”

You cradle him in your arms, burrowing your head into his hair as you cry.

You have to save him.

Then it hits you. You have one last thing, one last hope.

You shift with shakily hands and rip your necklace off.

He mumbles your name while you shift him in your arms. Javi must spot the necklace because he again says your name curiously.

“Wait… What are you doing?” He presses harder but his voice grows hoarse.

Please, you whisper in your heart as the tears roll down your face, please save him, take whatever you need.

You place the necklace against his wound. Javi’s voice calling to you comes quickly, but then - your world goes dark.

-

Waking up, an unfamiliar sensation surrounds you. You’re warm, bundled in something soft and unfamiliar.

Snapping your eyes open you discover you’re in a new place. It’s a space inside a cozy land dweller home. The walls are a soft sunset color and so many sells decorate the area. A mess of emotions overwhelms you and you scramble to move.

That’s when someone rushes to your side.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Javi.

He kneels down beside you and your eyes cloud with tears fast.

“You’re alright.” You sob out.

Javier’s earth eyes glisten watery and he nods, grabbing your hand to kiss your palm.

It worked. The wish worked.

You now wonder what the ocean took, what price did you pay. Until you notice…your lower body doesn’t feel the same. The sensation where your tail should be feels different. Legs, surface dweller legs, shift under the covers.

You sharply inhale as the thought hits you.

Tail no more, you’re human.

“Honey.” Javi begins cautiously. “I’m sorry. It happened right after you saved me and-”

You jump to embrace him, truly hold him. You reassure him there’s nothing to be sorry for.

He pulls you into his arms and squeezes you tight while kissing the side of your head fiercely. You don’t know how long you stay holding him, but eventually you ask about what happened.

Javi and his cousin, Leo, managed to subdue Richie as more people heard the ruckus in the early morning. They kept him controlled until law enforcement showed up. After that, you were taken to Javier’s family residence where you’re been resting ever since.

“Is he going to come back?” You ask a bit worriedly, clutching his hand. Javi’s free warm hand moves to stroke your face.

“No mi sirena, he won’t hurt us again.” He promises true and unwavering.

“Is she up?” A new excited voice comes in, interrupting your moment with Javier.

“Pop.” Javi sighs exasperated, almost embarrassed, but the door opens quickly.

The man in a cream colored hat comes in and you recognize him as Javi’s father. His eyes, gentle and warm, crinkle as they take you in.

“What?” He jokes to his son. “You won’t let me see the ángel who saved my son twice?”

His name is Chucho and he’s a dazzling ray of sincerity. Pure sunshine, he hugs you tight, thanking you in a watery voice.

Realizing what he said, something in you pauses worried for a moment. Javier must have told him who you are, or who you were now.

“Don’t worry,” Chucho reassures you with the same steadfast tenderness his son holds. “Your secret is safe with us. Afterall, you won’t be the only one in the family now.”

He winks at you, however a bit of confusion bubbles up.

“Aye Chucho, let her be.” The familiar voice startles you.

Gloria with her lovely aged face wanders in and a handsome older man follows right behind her. He must be the husband she spoke of. His resemblance to Chucho sits in the familiar grin. Gloria’s smile is soft, faintly sad, but understanding.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again this way, young one.” She nods.

“Found out you and my Tía Gloria met,” Javi mutters amused and your mind trips over itself.

The woman who traded her life in the sea for the land…

She’s Javier’s aunt.

For some reason that comforts you, and you laugh watery while she moves to embrace you as well.

Eventually you get to rest more among the soft covers and in Javier’s arms.

“A bit late to ask but,” Javi begins with a dry snort. “You regret it?”

You shake your head no, telling him you never will. It’s a choice you would make in every lifetime. He pulls you closer into his arms kissing the top of your head.

Eventually he slowly falls asleep, and you’re lulled into a peaceful serenity.

Where you rest gives you a clear open view of the sea just beyond your reach. Javi’s soft snorts mix with the soft breeze of the waves crashing faintly outside.

Your people were right. The water does provide. Because as Javier shifts in his sleep, almost nuzzling into you more, you realize the sea brought you to a treasure you can’t find among the waves.

The sunlight dancing on the ocean waves feels like both a twinkling goodbye and a wave hello to this new world of yours.

[perotovar]

baby, i'm-a want you — (prologue) "session zero"

gif by me

pairing: javier peña/shane morrissey (just this time. main pairing is still javi/joel) rating: E (18+) mdni word count: 1.6k content: unprotected p in a, one (1) use of the word "daddy" (this is gay porn what do you expect), shane being the biggest goth twink, javier being a good dom, swearing, smoking dividers: @saradika-graphics beta: @qveerthe0ry (ily ♥)

summary: javier peña has been doing this a long time. he's really good at his job. joel miller? not so much. he started doing this to get some extra cash to support his daughters. what happens when they're supposed to do a scene together? aka, the au where most of the ppcu boys are gay porn stars~

series masterlist

Javier Peña was good at his job.

“Fuck, harder–”

Really good.

He got millions of views on his page every month, and made enough to be comfortable as well as spend a little extra if he wanted to. He also got to have sex as frequently as he wanted because of that. He wasn’t bound to a schedule, but he filmed often just because he liked to. 

“J-Javi, I’m gonna come, please.” The cute young thing below him moaned weakly and turned back to Javier, looking up at him with the biggest and wettest eyes. That would probably be the thumbnail of the video.

“Yeah?” He grunted, a smirk plastered on his lips. He lifted a hand and landed a hard slap against the young man’s right cheek, the left one gripped tightly in Javier’s free hand. The young man – Shane – whimpered and trembled below him, arching his back to fuck himself on Javier’s cock. “Mmm, si lo eres,” Javier hummed, rubbing Shane’s tattooed side comfortingly. He landed another loud slap against Shane’s tender flesh and watched the skin ripple with heat in his eyes. (Yes, you are.)

Javier made it a point to take care of whoever he was doing a scene with. Especially if they were pretty green. This was only Shane’s second ever official one, after a scene where he gave Din a blowjob. He leaned over Shane’s clammy skin, pressing chest to back and tangled his fingers into Shane’s sweaty, dyed black locks. “You doin’ okay?” When he asked, the hairs above his lip tickled Shane’s ear a little. His voice was soft enough that the mics or cameras wouldn’t pick up on it. He kept up the pace of his hips, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the mostly-empty “bedroom”. 

Shane bit his lip, eyebrows downturned in pleasure and nodded as subtly as he could. He let out a weak grunt, a single tear falling from one of his eyes. “J-Javi–! There!”

Javier grinned and kissed along Shane's shoulder blades before he gripped the younger man’s hips tightly and started slamming into him, angling directly where Shane needed him most. Shane’s head hung heavily between his arms as he put most of his weight on his elbows. The chains and earrings he wore clanged against each other with every rhythmic beat of Javier’s hips, making him moan and whine louder. 

“C’mon, pretty boy,” Javier grunted, pressing a large hand to Shane’s lower back to keep him steady. “C’mon.”

Pre-cum dripped onto the sheets from Shane’s throbbing cock as it swung between his legs, lightly slapping against his lower tummy. Shane let out one last pathetic whimper before he stilled and came hard, thick ropes hitting the sheets and head thrown back, mouth open in an obscene O. Perhaps a little overdone, but Javier didn’t think the young man was faking anything. He’ll get there.

Shane’s entire body trembled as he looked back at Javier. “I-inside,” he panted. “Please.”

“Yeah? You want me to fill you up, pretty boy?” Javier grinned, hips still moving rhythmically.

Shane’s cock twitched in overstimulation, but he nodded anyway, whining weakly.

Javier knew his own body better than anything in the world, so he knew that it would only take a few more strokes and he’d be finished. “C’mere,” he grunted, gripping onto Shane’s torso to heave him up onto his knees so he could press Shane’s back to his front. Shane wailed as Javier sped up the beat of his hips, now only focused on getting what Max, the director, called “the money shot”. Even if he’d done this a hundred times, it always felt good, and a depraved little part of him loved seeing himself stake a claim over his scene partner.

Javier let out a punched out breath, grunting as his hips stilled, then moved in a slight staccato, pumping Shane’s ass full of his cum. “Fuck,” he groaned, rolling his hips in slow waves until the last drop left his cock. Shane let out a weak sob as a final, pitiful spurt of his own cum landed on the sheets in front of them. Javier hummed and gently laid Shane down on his side away from the mess, and slowly turned him onto his stomach a little.

One of the camera men got closer to zoom in on Javier’s cum trickling out of Shane’s cute little hole, Javier’s big hands spreading his cheeks. “Good boy,” Javier hummed happily, teasingly prodding at the top of Shane’s puffy, used rim. Shane giggled shyly as he looked back at Javier, a blush high on his cheeks. His eyeliner and mascara was completely ruined, faint tracks running down his cheeks.

“Thank you, daddy,” Shane recited shyly, biting his lip.

“And, cut! Very good, boys.” Max’s booming voice cut through the tension like a knife.

Javier’s shoulders deflated a little, a tired smile crossing his features. “You alright, kid?” He asked, voice rough. 

Shane smiled and nodded up at him, that deep blush still present. “Y-yeah. You’re amazing, Javier.”

Javier snorted and held a hand out for him as he stood from the bed. Slowly, Shane crawled off the bed, the cum trickling down the back of his thighs. Javier took him by the hand over to the small rack of robes and handed him one. “Thank you. You weren’t so bad yourself. They’re gonna love that face of yours,” he winked, nudging Shane’s chin with the knuckle on his index finger.

Shane smiled shyly and nodded, eyes downcast. “You’ve got a scene with Joel tomorrow, right?”

Joel. He was an interesting one. Javier had done a scene with him before and it went… really well. It’s one of Javier’s most viewed videos on his page. Javier doesn’t get a chance to bottom very often, and if he does, it’s usually with Pero or Dave. But after Joel… Well, he had to take a couple days off after that one. He didn’t get to talk to Joel much after their scene, but he seemed to… change once Max called cut. He wasn’t quite so… intense. While filming, Joel seemed to shift into a completely different person; he was all grunts and furrowed brows and some of the filthiest dirty talk Javier had ever heard. It was one of the first times Javier actually felt… submissive. Small, but not in a bad way. Like Joel would take care of him. Javier may play the part of the aloof, dominant top, but he likes being held sometimes too. The idea of getting to do that again was attractive to him, but more than that, he wanted to see if he could get a chance to properly talk to Joel. He seemed almost as new as Shane, but showcased it in a completely different way.

Javier cleared his throat and nodded, tying his own robe around his waist. “I do,” he hummed, turning toward one of the assistants, a young red headed girl whose name he couldn’t place at the moment, and motioned for a cigarette. She nodded and took off toward where he left his things.

Shane sighed dreamily, “I wanna do a scene with him.”

Javier smirked and laughed lowly. “Maybe get some more under your belt and you will. Think he’d like you,” he winked.

“Your cigarettes, Javi,” the assistant – Amy, that was her name – said, tapping the yellow pack against his shoulder.

“Thank you,” he nodded once toward her, hitting the bottom of the pack against his hand a few times before turning it around and doing the same thing there. He pulled one out and lit it after he stuck the butt in his mouth. Lighting up, he sucked in the smoke and exhaled, his mind clearing already.

“I feel like I should be flattered,” Shane giggled, sipping on some water as he sat, one leg draped over the other. “Needing a cigarette after our scene. How very 70s of you.”

Javier rolled his eyes, but smirked, roughing up the kid’s hair playfully. “Yeah, yeah. You were good.”

“Javi, can I talk to you for a sec?”

Javier turned to Max Phillips, the director and owner of the website, and nodded. “Course,” he mumbled, the cigarette hanging from between his lips. “What’s up?”

Max pulled Javier to a secluded room, which made Javier raise a brow. Max waved him off and smiled. “Just wanted to tell you that the last scene you did? With Marcus? Just hit 2 mill last night.”

“Shit, really? People must really like the FBI/DEA storyline,” he hummed, part amused, part sarcastic.

“Yeah, so we’re thinking of doing a second part. Like a followup, where–”

“When?”

“How’s tomorrow?”

Javier frowned. This is the part of his job where he got to pull rank a little. He didn’t normally, but he really wanted to do that scene with Joel. He wasn’t going to miss his chance to pick Joel’s brain a little. 

“What about Monday? I’ve got a scene with Joel tomorrow.”

Max exhaled, like he knew it was coming, and rested his hands on his hips, popping a knee dramatically. “You sure?”

Javier nodded. “‘M sure. I know my job, Max. And I haven’t done a scene with Joel in a while,” He paused. “You can’t argue with the numbers my last one with him pulled.” He knew exactly which buttons to push with Max. His relationship with his boss was fine, but Max could be a real douchebag at times. Javier wasn’t afraid of him or anything, but he also didn’t want to get reprimanded at best, or lose his job at worst.

Max chewed on his bottom lip for a minute. “Fuck,” he sighed. “Alright, fine. Still wanna do the one with Marcus?”

Javier nodded, a triumphant little smile on his face. “Course. He’s got a pretty cock.”

“Very true. Alright, go get yourself cleaned up, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Javier nodded, sucking another drag off his cigarette. His stomach grumbled and he groaned. Maybe he’ll get Chinese tonight.

[foli-vora]

First of all

(I am sure I started following for the Dave/Marcus series)

With Javier Peña can I get F reader and

“If you die, I’m gonna kill you.” and “You’re so fucking cute.”

A medium amount of filth if possible

Ah my love! Thank you so much! You're such an amazing light in this fandom, and we love and appreciate you so much! Thank you for sending in a request! I don't know what happened but it got a bit out of hand and super soft and a bit angsty lmao, but I hope you still enjoy and the medium amount of filth still hits right! ❤️

before my eyes

javier pena x f!reader

word count: 3k warnings: idk i feel like this is a mess but i'm going with it, neighbour!javi, swearing, smoking, SOFTNESS, smidgen of angst, mention of injury/gunshot wounds/surgery, SMUT 18+ ONLY: oral sex (f), unprotected p in v

“Shit,” you curse, watching the box in your hands give way to the contents within.

The bottom gives out, your belongings spilling down the stairway, and you heave a sigh of impatience. Sweat slicks your skin, causing the flow of your dress to cling to you as you bend to try and find some semblance of organisation to the unexpected chaos thrust upon you. 

“Let me help,” a voice says from the top of the stairs, and you turn to watch the newcomer jog softly down the steps and duck to gather some of your things.

“Thanks,” you murmur, heat washing under your cheeks, “this is just what I need.”

Of course the attractive man living in your building has to catch you in a moment of mayhem. Javier, as he had previously introduced himself the day before, gives you a small smile, the yellow tinted sunglasses covering his eyes sliding down the curved bridge of his nose.

“Not having the best day?” 

“It could be better,” you reply dryly.

The plumbing in your apartment is weak at best, with a few leaks springing from the pipes beneath the sink in your kitchen and bathroom. Not to mention the shot to shit AC unit, leaving the humid Colombian air to fill every inch of every room.

“I could come and take a look,” Javier says, making a neat pile of books before sweeping them up into his arms and following you the rest of the way to your door. “I’m no plumber, but I could fiddle around with the pipes at least. I know a guy who could come out for the AC.”

“You don’t seem like the type of guy to have a tool set laying around,” you tease lightly, shifting the barely fixed box onto your hip to push open your door.

Javier grins, “You’re right—I don’t, but I have been taught a thing or two. I’m sure the Hillbilly’ll have something I could use. I can come tonight, if you want?”

“I don’t want to be any trouble—”

“You’re not—I offered.”

It may not have been any trouble for him to come over, but he certainly was trouble himself, you had quickly come to learn. The feelings he invokes in you is something you hadn’t quite felt before. He makes his desire obvious, unashamed with his light flirtations that never fail to bring butterflies flying right up your throat.

As a thank you for fixing your leaky pipes, you cook. Your first proper meal in your new apartment, and in wonderful company, too. Who'd have thought your new move would bring you here? 

Dinner is filled with easy conversation, and he expertly dodges any and all questions relating to his work. You know that he works with Steve, your new neighbour Connie’s husband, and you know by her that Steve works for the DEA.

You don’t mention work again for the night. He stays longer than you had originally expected, content to share a glass of bourbon on your couch and listen to the soft music falling from your record player.

The evening ends with no more than a kiss to your cheek, dangerously close to the corner of your lips, and your heart thunders in your chest when he remains close enough to feel his breath wash over your lips.

For a second, you find yourself wanting, hoping that he’d close those last few centimetres and grace you with the feeling of his lips over yours…

… but no.

Instead, he turns, leaving with a dangerously charming, almost teasing, smile and a quiet goodnight.

Trouble, indeed.

Weeks pass before you see him again for more than a few seconds alone or without the company of Steve and Connie, striding into the building late at night and running an anxious hand through his hair. A tough day, you assume. He would have plenty with his line of work.

You make your presence known and smile softly at him, still clad in your party dress from a night out with new friends.

“Not having the best day?” You ask gently, leaning against the railing of the stairs as the effects of the alcohol in your system bring a hazy swirl to the edges of your vision.

He stops, playing with his keys between his fingers before giving a shrug, “It could be better.”

Your stomach tightens and flips with his low rasp. The attraction is undeniable, and you’d been questioned viciously by Connie in regards to the looks you and Javier would share, or the energy that would fill the room whenever you two were close. You’d had no answers at the time, putting it down to merely a simple crush that would pass soon.

Something in your mind said differently though, that this felt like more, deeper than a silly little crush that would fade away after a few months. You hope he shares the same sentiment, but with the choices and certain circumstances he would put himself in for his job and gathering intel, you started to doubt more and more that that would happen. 

“Want me to help with that?”

It’s the remnants of various fruity cocktails bringing forth a small wave of flirty confidence. Usually you would never be so upfront, but you don’t find yourself regretting the words as soon as they pierce the air. You want it, with every inch of you.

He thinks it over for a long moment, his eyes dragging over your body with an obvious shine of desire and admiring your flattering choice of attire, but instead a slight curl pulls at the corners of his lips and your heart thuds harder and faster in your chest.

“Maybe another night, when you can actually remember me in the morning,” he teases deeply, smiling wider when you give a breathy chuckle. “You need help getting in?”

“No, I’ve got it. Goodnight, Javier.”

“Goodnight, corazón.”

That's new.

You struggle to get rid of the smile curling your lips, even long after you wave him goodbye and tuck yourself into bed. His voice lingers, images flash behind your lids as you try to sleep.

He drives you crazy.

He fills your thoughts every moment of the day—his face, his eyes, his smile. His voice would linger in your ears, the low rasp of it keeping your nerves electrified.

You look for him in the entryway coming home, you listen out for his comings and goings through your thin front door. Sometimes you even catch yourself having a little peek through your peephole when you hear him and Steve, watching as he runs a hand through his hair and ever so slightly looks towards your door before vanishing. 

It’s one night you both happen to arrive home at the same time, the humidity of Colombia sticking to your skin but relieved with the breeze that blows through the streets. He lingers, seemingly happy to chat while you fiddle with the straps of your handbag.

“You want a drink?”

The question is a welcome surprise, and you merely nod in answer, unable to quite force the words out your mouth.

His apartment is… Javier. It’s minimal, no signs of being truly lived in with photographs and knick knacks like the ones that fill your walls and tables, but the air filling it is comfortable and cosy, the music that falls from his record player familiar and calming.

Conversation flows easily.

He’s tired, the bags hanging softly beneath his eyes showing that work has been extra hard on him the last few weeks. You love that he looks relaxed with you, sinking into his couch with his head leaning comfortably on the back as it rolls to face you.

He smiles at your ramblings, laughs quietly at your stories, the crinkles forming at the corner of his eyes hitting somewhere deep in your chest. 

You don’t even realise you fall asleep until later in the night.

You wake only a few hours later, hazy and slightly confused by your surroundings, but instantly soften at the heavy breaths that fall into your ears. He’s asleep next to you, still cradling the half nursed glass of whiskey in his hands. His head rests just beside yours, his lips barely parted and breath washing past your face as you watch him for a long minute.

He needs rest. Carefully, you extract yourself from the couch and gently place your own glass on the coffee table before draping him in the coloured crochet blanket hanging just beside him and pressing a tender kiss of goodnight to his forehead.

It wakes him, his eyes half open when you pull away to leave and the sheer force of his gaze keeps you from moving away any further. He watches you quietly, his dark sleep filled eyes roaming your face before he leans up and catches your lips with his own and steals the breath from your lungs.

He moves slowly, hands roaming your legs and hips before cupping your ass and pulling you down until your knees sink into the cushions beside his hips. You settle in his lap easily, muscles loosening with each curl of his tongue along yours until you’re practically melting at his touch. 

Everything feels right.

Every moment, every kiss, every touch… God, he knows what he’s doing. He devotes his energy to you, uncaring about meeting his own end and instead selfish with the time he spends on your body. He studies it all—what makes your breath hitch, what makes your legs shake, what makes your fingers tighten and tug at his hair.

You savour every sharp exhale and groan that falls from his lips. It's not long until you're spread out on his couch, watching with wide eyes as he tugs at your underwear and throws the soaked cotton over his shoulder with a lazy smirk that radiates trouble.

He loses himself between your thighs, dress haphazardly shoved up and out of the way so he’s free to devour you as he wishes, his tongue rolling and circling over your clit and diving into the weeping entrance of your cunt until you’re breathless and incoherent.

He brings you up and over the edge again and again, until you physically think you can’t possibly give him any more, only to have him force yet another out of your system with his low rumble sinking into your ears.

So good for me, look at you. Let me feel you, so fucking good. Give it to me, come on now, corazón—

You’re bent over the arm of the couch when he finally gets sick of the dress still clinging to your frame, fingers unforgiving as they wrench the dress up and off your body, freeing your skin to his hungry touch.

They roam at their leisure, cupping the soft swell of your tits and pinching your hardened nipples until you squirm against the solid feel of him pressed up against your ass.

He ruts into you without abandon, cock hitting just that bit too far and blessing you with the sharp twinge of pain alongside the blissful feel of him dragging against your walls and you're seeing stars, clinging to the cushions as a means to keep your head straight and not lose yourself to the overwhelming ecstasy threatening to have you passing out.

He cums with his lips on your neck, mouth hot and heavy against your sweat slicked skin as he pants into the curve on your shoulder, before pressing one simple final kiss there. He lingers, pressed tightly against you and crowding you into the firm arm of the couch as he softens within you, his cum trailing a slow, hot path down the inside of your thigh.

You curl into the reassuring hand to rub along your back as you sink shakily back to sit down. You smile shyly when he reappears with a warm cloth, lazily sliding it across your skin and softly cupping it against your tender cunt to calm the ache there.

It’s intimate, the sheer closeness of the action bringing your heart to beat at the base of your throat.

Surprisingly, he asks you to stay, and your heart doesn’t calm until exhaustion claims you after your head meets his pillow, the familiar scent of his cologne and the faint traces of cigarettes clinging to the soft cotton. 

It’s a slow development. 

The next time, he comes to you, knocking on your door in the middle of the night and you let him in without a word. You cuddle into the leftover warmth on your bed long after he leaves for his own apartment to head to work, the ghost of his lips moving over your body following you for the rest of the day.

The time after, it’s his place again, but this time, he cooks. It’s the first time it feels like something more than sex, but it goes unaddressed.

You talk and talk, you learn about his father, his life before Colombia. You admit to finding your life lacking, forever wishing for something more than the mundane ‘find a husband and settle down’ expectations struck upon you.

There’s something there, lingering behind the way you take each other apart.

It follows his touch, oozes from the kisses you pepper each other with. It feels nice, it feels so right. You feel comfortable in his bed, completely nude and not at all bothering to hide any part of you. It feels normal, natural even, when he lays beside you and throws out random topics of conversation with his lips around a cigarette, occasionally offering it to you and chuckling warmly when you’d attempt to inhale the harsh tobacco. You’re both unperturbed by the silence that would sometimes follow.

And that feeling never disappears, it only grows as the weeks go on.

You know you have strong feelings for him one morning when you feel him press a tender kiss of goodbye to your forehead while you’re still half asleep. It has your heart quickening, something soft and sweet and warm curling around your chest. You bathe in the glow of it. 

But it would be addressed later—you’d hate to potentially ruin whatever you have building with him by speaking on your feelings too quickly.

And then, one fateful day, it happens. It all comes crashing down around you and for the first time, you worry you'll never be able to speak the words to him.

The steady beep of the machine is somewhat comforting in the chill of the room. You barely notice it, too consumed with watching the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath the light blanket covering his body. Steady, they had said, after the surgery they had rushed him into.

It hadn’t been expected, the phone call during the morning of another seemingly normal work day. Steve had sounded nervous, a first for your neighbour. He hadn’t been able to give you all the details, all you knew was that it was bad.

Shot. A bullet in his side and one in his chest. 

You had flown to the hospital, rushed in with his name falling in rushed pleas and they had shown you to the waiting room to await a doctor for more information. Steve was there, Connie, too. She had doted on you, guided you to a close seat and ordered her husband to get you a drink, a snack, anything.

Hours went by, and soon a man appeared, kindly reassuring you he had made it through with minimal issues, and was now in recovery. You were beside him within an hour.

He was warm to the touch, his pulse thrumming softly under your fingers as you had gently cradled his hand. He had remained motionless at the tender kiss you had pressed to his forehead, his lashes brushing his cheeks as he remained in the bliss of a hopefully painless sleep.

And you hadn’t moved since. Steve had left after some gentle pressing from Connie, and you had reassured him you’d call the moment he awoke. He had gripped Javi’s fingers softly, giving him one final look of worry, before turning and leaving under the arm of his wife.

Nurses come and go, checking his IV and doing their routine of observations, never worrying about their findings and erasing any of your lingering fear with a warm smile. They bring you coffee as the day bleeds into night, keeping you fed with cold hospital sandwiches and the occasional packet of sweet biscuits. 

You just want him to wake.

It’s normal, they say. Just give him time.

“Javi,” you murmur softly, leaning forward to brush his hair back for the thousandth time, “I know you need some time to get your strength back, and that’s fine, but just so you know—if you don’t wake up, and you die? I will kill you.”

As you expected, he stays silent, but you still smile, lingering to brush your fingers down his cheek softly before settling back in your seat. Your hands wrap around the arm resting in front of you, and you rest to press your cheek on his warm skin, content to watch him sleeping and losing yourself to dreams sometime into the night, too.

It’s a slight pressure on your temple that gently pries you out of dreamy darkness. It moves, sliding along your skin softly before disappearing and returning to where you’d first felt it. Fingers, you realise hazily, recognising the feel of someone stroking your face.

Your eyes flutter open, immediately to be met with a pair of tired dark eyes seemingly content in watching you. Javi.

Startled, you sit up and reach to call for the nurse, only to stop at the raspy voice that tells you to calm down.

“They already know,” Javi says quietly, throat dry and raw. “They just didn’t want to wake you.”

You turn for the jug of water and pour some into the little plastic cup, carefully plucking the straw from the table and holding it at his lips. He drinks slowly, humming from the relief of the cool liquid filling his mouth.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been shot,” he replies dryly, lips twitching at the corners.

“Idiot,” you snark around a grin, returning the cup to the table and linking your fingers through his. “No, really, how are you?”

He sighs, head rolling on the pillow so he can look at you better, “I’m doing okay, corazón.”

You nod, tongue running along your lips as you take reassurance from his words. He’s okay.

You tighten your fingers through his and take a small breath to calm the anxiety in your system, unaware you’re crying until you hear him breathe your name. You mumble an apology, almost embarrassed by the stream of tears, but it’s soon muffled by his hospital gown as he gently pulls you to him.

Carefully, you rest your head on one side of his chest, mindful of the thick bandaging on the other and warm at the arms that come to rest over your back.

Admitting feelings can wait. For now, you’re content to just rest in his arms, listening to the steady beat of his heart under your ear.

“You know,” Javi murmurs against the top of your head, “you’re really fucking cute when you snore.”

“I do not snore!”

-

Yeah this was a mess but I'm into it nonetheless lmao.

I haven't updated my taglists yet soz x

taglist 1: @maievdenoir, @javier-pena, @lv7867, @dihra-vesa, @katronautt, @radiowallet, @januarystears, @missminkylove, @beskarprincessjenny, @mswarriorbabe80, @danidrabbles, @amneris21, @eri16, @absurdthirst, @hnt-escape, @acourtofsnakes, @ezrasbirdie, @mstgsmy66, @lovesbiggerthanpride, @coaaster, @sherala007, @greeneyedblondie44, @wyn-n-tonic, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @shirks-all-responsibilities, @withasideofmeg, @harriedandharassed, @andruxx, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @prostitute-robot-from-the-future, @tanzthompson, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @hope-for-the-best-98, @fangirl-316, @christina-loves, @jediknight122, @hallway5, @xoxabs88xox, @nicolethered, @churchill356, @massivecolorspygiant, @just-here-for-the-moment, @gracie7209, @pinkie289, @lavenderluna10, @goodgriefitsawildworld

[itsharleystuff]

⸻ 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘰

‘ necio porque no eres mía, mi fruta prohibida ‘

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Javier Peña x afab!fem reader (implied hispanic/latina)

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.1k

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Javier can’t stay away from you, even if that means being your sneaky link.

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), sex, p in v sex, porn with barely any plot, unrealistic car sex, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of cheating, feelings (left unsaid), fingering, hair pulling, praising, lots of kissing, pet names (cariño, sweetheart, hermosa), phrases in Spanish (no translations, sorry), mentions of reader wearing a cross necklace (not a rosary or any religious reference, but adding it here in case anyone might be bothered by it), no use of y/n. I think that’s all.

a/n: been listening to lots of romeo santos lately and now we have bad bunny’s new album so expect some nasty works from me (as soon as I get a break from uni cause damn). This os is a bit rushed due to my lack of time, but I really wanted to post something, please excuse my mistakes<3

‘ Is it better to feel everything with great depth in comparison to feeling nothing at all? ’

Occasionally, you think it’ll be easier if you could simply turn your emotions off and walk away. But no matter how many times you tell yourself that you won't go back to him, somehow —every so often in the weirdest ways— he always ends up between your legs. On and off, like one torturous, yet perfect loop that keeps bringing you back together.

Although, you were never actually together.

Technicalities, right?

Things were said and done once you started frequenting each other's beds. Above all else, Javier had clearly specified that he didn't want any feelings involved in the matter (primarily due to his job, plus the dangers that came with it) and you had stupidly agreed to that condition. Because honestly, the main reason why you got involved with him in the first place was the way he made your heart flutter, how he could make your skin tingle just with a simple touch and get your knees weak solely by surrounding your personal space.

It was all in vain, nonetheless. He had it for you, too. Badly. Though his realization came hard and late. You stormed into his life and swiped away any thoughts of having an emotionless relationship; your innocent curiosity, the softness of your touch and the brightness in your eyes whenever you'd stare into his soul while being tangled with him all night, all of it somehow carved your way into his heart.

Even if you were already seeing someone else, trying to move on, he'd still be all over you; chasing after you as if having all your attention was some sort of personal whim of his. The worst part? You'd give in every single time, surrendering yourself to him after putting up little to none resistance.

"Javier, this needs to stop..." were your words actually meaningful if you uttered them between kisses?

His hands coast up your thighs, delicately rubbing the flesh as his lips roamed along your jawline. "Why?" he sighed, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your neck.

"Why?" you mimic him, propping your weight up with both palms to his chest, slightly pushing him back. "You fucking know why."

The agent straightens his posture on the backseat of his jeep, forcing you to readjust your position on top of him. He takes a deep gulp of air whilst staring up at you with low, darkened eyes.

One thing was crystal clear: he had you right where he wanted you. His aviator sunglasses rested on top of his head, crowning his messy hair; the black shirt was ruffled from you tugging at it, a couple of buttons loose. His unsteady breathing and plump lips almost made him appear needy, if it weren't for the firm grip he had on your upper legs and the wide hunger his gaze reflected. Your yellow sundress had ranked up your thighs and the denim material of his jeans felt a tad uncomfortable beneath you. All that could be heard inside the car –parked somewhere next to an incautious road– was the storm happening outside and a song they were playing on the radio.

"Oh, yeah..." he chuckled sardonically. "I forgot I'm now your boy toy."

There was a bittersweet note on his voice despite the joking tone. "Shut up, asshole. It's not like I was ever anything different to you."

He muffled a laugh, his fingertips lingering on your feverish skin. The air inside the car was cold, contrasting with the warm heat of your bodies. Javier couldn't help but think about the irony of the situation; about how you couldn't believe that you meant anything more than a sweet time to him, when in reality, the few moments you spent together were the only ones where he could feel genuine joy. His hand comes up to cup your face, gently stroking your cheekbone with his thumb.

"You think very low of me, preciosa." Oh, if only he knew.

"I wish I did. That would surely make things easier." He shakes his head, holding back laughter.

"Does he know?" your brows knit together in confusion, shocked by the sudden question and the mention of the other guy.

"Know what?" you asked with a quizzical expression.

His big palm lowers to your neck, the other one sneaking under the hem of your dress, all the way up to your hip and setting on your lower back. "About me."

You tsked, rearranging the collar of his shirt, "I'm not sure there's anything he needs to know about you, Peña."

He smirks, charming as ever. "How about the reason why you keep coming back to me?" The pads of his fingers rub soothing circles along your spine, all the while his eyes swallow you whole. "I don't mind being second in line as long as your frontman knows how to treat you properly."

"You're talking nonsense," you run your hands through his locks, brushing the hair out of his face. "You think you're any better?"

"Oh, cariño. I know I am." If it weren't for the confidence in his voice –as if he spoke freely and unquestionably–, you'd probably be laughing. "I'm sure everyone knows." His index and middle fingers trace your collarbones in light, feathery touches and slowly slide down your chest, avoiding the chain around your throat. "And if he doesn't, be sure to tell him."

A shiver runs throughout your body when his thumb sweeps across your sensitive nipple over the flimsy fabric of your dress. The hand on your lower back moves to press you firmly against him, grinding your lower body on top of his and pulling a surprised gasp from your parted lips.

"Javi..." you can't muster up the words nor the courage to push him away before he's kissing all over your neck and shoulders. "God, you're insufferable."

He chuckles, and the sound is not only attractive but contagious, plastering a smile on your face. The thin straps of your dress slide down your arms, making your boobs nearly spill out the front, though neither of you actually care. Both his hands squeeze your ass as he buries his face between your breasts, sucking a mark on the sensitive skin. That, he thought, was something you probably wouldn't want the other guy to see.

You unconsciously started searching for friction, moving your hips in tandem to relieve some of the increasing ache that settled between your thighs. You sighed when his mouth started peppering kisses all over your exposed tits, giving special attention to your hardened nipples. He knew exactly what you liked and how you liked it, your favorite spots and positions; all he needed to do to have you trembling, screaming and begging for more... He knew everything and he boasted on it.

"Oh, you really love me," he mumbles, voice strained with lust as you keep rubbing yourself against him, using him just like he enjoyed best. "Don't you, corazón?"

You pull his hair harshly, forcing him to look at you in the eye, the chain of your necklace colliding against his chin. The gruffly groan that leaves his lips goes straight to your core. Javier loved it when you were a little mean and bossy; it amused him.

"I like you better when you're quiet," you hiss, kissing all over his jaw and licking a long stripe along his throat, taking your time on his Addams' apple and the spot between his neck and shoulder. That, added to the constant, leisured movement of your body against his crotch, had him panting and grunting in seconds.

The sight of pleasure contorting his features as he completely loses himself and starts bucking his hips upwards has you dripping and clenching around nothing. "Fucking lier," he spits out, "you love it when I'm noisy."

He was right, as per usual. But you decided to ignore it. "I'd like you more if you weren't such a cocky bastard. Tal vez así no tendría que buscarme a otro."

A wolfish grin purses his lips and his eyes gleam smugly, "Necia y mentirosa. You're every man's dream."

You lean forward to kiss the crook of his nose, feeling his strong arms enveloping you, guiding your movements just as you both liked best. Your lungs fill with air and you grasp the back of the seat, feeling a certain tension building in the pit of your stomach each time the right amount of pressure was applied to your clit. Javier relished on the way he could make a complete mess of you without even having you naked, his cock twitching in his pants with the mewls that left you; having you all hot and bothered prompted his own excitement.

"Everyone's..." your breath fanned across his cheek as you ducked down towards him, lips so close to each other’s that he could already feel the ghost of their touch on his mouth. "But yours."

If you really believed that, then you were ragingly clueless, for he knew deep down that he'd go to wit's end and back just for you to be happy.

"Especially mine, sweetheart." He doesn't let you reply, swiftly catching your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

It ignited something within you that could only grow bigger and stronger, like a forest fire. An intense feeling that settled in your loins and expanded throughout your body with every touch and every single kiss. It was melting your bones and fogging your brain deliciously. His hand rested on the nape of your neck to hold you close as his mouth explored yours in depth, meanwhile the other slid between your bodies to palm your clothed sex, wet with your arousal.

"Fuck..." he gasps amidst, gliding his index and middle fingers across the soaked fabric, spurring you on.

Despite the fact that he'd done this a dozen times before, the way you'd easily give in to him would always do it for Javier. Your sweet whimpers and ragged breaths were his own sort of addiction, the moans that escaped your lips when moving your panties aside made all his blood rush towards his lower body.

His fingers gather the slick around your entrance and then brings them back to your clit, teasing it with slow, circular motions. He takes his time to play with you, refusing to thrust his fingers in your core and only managing to get you wetter and more desperate by the second, toying with your patience. The moment you try to wriggle, his grip becomes stronger to keep you still, digging his fingertips so strongly that it'll definitely bruise afterwards. At this point you can feel your own arousal smearing on your inner thighs and dripping down his jeans.

"Don't be mean, Peña..." you mumble in complain, your hands wandering over his chest, struggling to keep your mind on track.

"Beg for it," he whispers in your ear. "Be nice and I'll do as you say."

You bite your lower lip to hold back your noises while his fingers drift across your slit. "Please..." you kiss the soft spot behind his ear, raising goosebumps on his skin. "Javi, por favor..."

He hums lowly, pressing his middle and index fingers to your entrance at the same time as he shushes your moans with a kiss. His mouth is all over yours, his tongue running along your lower lip before going past your teeth. You can barely breathe, the feeling of his digits inside you and the sloppy kiss had your head spinning. You're certain that if it wasn't for the rain or the music in the radio you'd definitely be able to hear the sopping sounds of him working on your pussy. Javier curses when your head draws back, not wanting to part from you, the sweet aftertaste of the kiss still lingering on his tongue.

The leather material of the seats cracked each time you moved, and the crystals were starting to mist up from the shock of temperatures. Despite the windows being polarized, the blue, kind of grayish light of today's twilight shone beautifully on your glowing skin, leaving him absolutely mesmerized.

"Do you ever show him this side of you?" he mutters hoarsely, watching you from below as you shut your eyes and claw at his shirt, feeling his thick fingers curling inside, stretching you open. "Does he touch you like I do?" He's quick to find your weak spot and hit it repeatedly, slow and steady at first, bringing back his wet digits to your swollen bud. "Can he fuck you like I do? Please you like I do?"

You shake your head in denial, panting and unable to form any coherent sentences. The warmth between your legs started spreading throughout your belly, thighs quivering and waves of pleasure washing over you.

"Use your words," he coaxes, burying his face on your neck to inhale your perfume, the one that's all over him, his clothes and sheets; like you were marking him as yours. The familiar tickle of his mustache on your sensitive skin, added to the heat and the well-known thickness of his dick underneath you doesn't fail to make your body waver.

"N-no..." you stumble upon your words, "he can't. No one else can... Sólo tú."

"Mhm," Javier kisses your jaw lovingly, the feeling of his chest flushed to yours pushing you over the edge. In that moment, he just knows you're close by the way your cheeks heat up and your brows furrow, as well as how you start squeezing his fingers. "You can come now."

And he didn't need to tell you twice, for you were already falling apart, tugging at his hair and struggling to catch your breath. His hand leaves the apex of your thighs and starts caressing the smooth skin of your back, giving you chills from the dampness of his fingertips. You lay your forehead against his, and with your eyelids hanging low you press a soft kiss to his temple. For a while, you just stay like that in silence, feeling his strong arms wrapped around your waist and listening to a bolero song playing through the car speakers.

Javier's heart thumps against his ribs whilst the beat reverberates through you in a constant tempo. His natural musk dazes your mind; a mix of cigarettes, fresh soap and manly cologne. The intimacy of everything suddenly sinks in and your lungs swell with all the contained love you had for him, crushing you under its weight. You can't let it crawl back to you, knowing you have to keep it well buried within your bones. 

"Javi..." you purr, lips grazing his ear. "I need you."

"Yeah?" his coarse voice makes you shudder. "I'll take care of you, cariño."

You reluctantly break apart form his embrace and, with a playful smile, you decide to take his sunglasses off, carefully tossing them to the passenger's seat. He appeared invested in your game, his prying eyes following your every move. Then, you suddenly grabbed the hem of your sundress with both hands and took it off in a quick move, discarding it somewhere on the floor and leaving you solely in your tiny, ruined underwear and golden necklace. The man in front of you couldn't be any more swoon over your naked body, his brown eyes now blackened with desire.

"Mi niña hermosa," he coed.

Your smile widened as his palm covered the curve of your waist. It's almost as if he's never seen you like this; though the image of your bare skin is something he could never tire of, your beauty being something he'd describe as ethereal, if he were the artistic or poetic type— which he wasn't.

"You're staring," you say, feeling his free hand coming to grope your breast.

"I'm admiring," Javier replies with a grin, thumb brushing over your peaked nipple. "You're a menace, d'you know that? This body and that face of yours... Engañarían a cualquiera." The cool metal of his watch gave you chills when you grabbed his wrist, guiding his hand to your lips. "No one would believe that you let me fuck you senseless in the back of my car."

You giggle at his words, starting to spread kisses on his knuckles, "People would think you've corrupted me."

The pads of his fingers gently pull your lower lip, the same two digits that were previously inside you. He doesn't need to vocalize what he wants you to do, since you immediately pick up on it. Your mouth opens up steadily, allowing him to press both fingers to your tongue. With no hesitation, you eagerly begin to suck and lick at them without breaking eye contact, his heavy gaze looking at you fixedly.

"Perhaps I have," he murmurs rasps out, brushing the hair away from your face with an uncharacteristic delicate demeanor.

Frankly, you are incapable of conceiving how can he have so much power over you, your actions and thoughts. The way he peers at you with close scrutiny and sincere devotion makes you feel like a woman, in all sense of the word. He's aware of it and is not afraid to demonstrate it, to be at your mercy. And it only made you want him more.

You desperately tug at his belt while he drags his fingers from your lips to your chin and neck, letting you do all the hard work. There's an arrogant attitude to him as he merely 'admires' but doesn't go anywhere near as to putting any effort into it; he wants you to work for it, have your fun with him as you please and then let him show you why no other man can reach his level. He’s very aware of the fact that he's the only man whose dick you'd beg to have inside and he wallows in that knowledge, like a bragging child.

"Shit, Javier..." you fumble with his fly, silently pleading for his help while he absentmindedly kneads at your flesh, enjoying the show you're putting on for him. "Work with me, please."

"Anxious, aren't we?" he scoffs, taking your wrist to place your hand on his crotch. "What do you want, cariño?"

"A ti, Javi," the feeling of his cock throbbing at your confirmation only reaffirms how much he loves it when you verbally express your desires. "I want you."

Both his palms rest on your shoulder blades and his face gets closer to yours before talks again, "Then fucking take me."

His voice gave you butterflies and the way he spoke went straight to your core. A muffled moan vibrates in your chest when you reach for the base of his neck and pull him in for an aggressive, frenetic kiss. It's a blur of actions, a clash of tongues and teeth that happens at the same time as your hand sinks to his lower abdomen, swaying over the trail of hair that runs down his mound, with a touch so light that it makes his knees feel like jelly. The warmth and softness of your palm against his length pulls a groan deep from his throat, finally getting to release some of his pent-up tension and get the attention he's been craving from you.

You swipe your thumb across his swollen tip, surprised by the amount of precome that is dribbling and how easy it becomes to stroke him. Javier gasps at the contact, shutting his eyes and allowing himself to breathe. Just like him, you know exactly what he finds most pleasurable. You know his body as well as you know his mind; his pet-peeves and favorites. So freaking close, and yet— so, so incredibly far from his grasp.

"Cariño," he calls out your name in a languid drawl, clutching to your waist, "don't tease."

"Mhm," you're accustomed to the thickness of him, how heavy and long he is. However, it's always nice to feel how easily riled up he gets because you. "Not so fun when it's done to you, is it?" you purposely trace the vein on the underside of his dick and he snarls through gritted teeth, an unrestrained sound that makes you throb.

"Fucking hell-" the chocolate brown in his eyes is entirely consumed by the pitch black of his dilated pupils.

You drag your index along his jawline, slightly lifting his chin to square his gaze with yours. "Come on, big boy. Lift your hips so I can do this properly."

He can't help but laugh. "What now?" he snarks, doing as you say, nonetheless. "You're gonna talk me trough it?"

The man pulls his pants down just enough to give him the sufficient mobility. You don't have the patience to reply to his mockery, though you're sure he'd love it if you did so. Instead, he pushes your panties aside as much as the fabric permits and you glide the head of his cock between your folds, coating it with your arousal and the remains of your previous orgasm. His hands are still on your hips but they're simply resting there, giving you the freedom to do as you want.

With a firm grip, you carefully guide him to your entrance and sink down his length, drawing a sharp whine from your lips and a low, depraved moan from him. The stretch he provides always manages to send your mind into oblivion, filling you up so good, to the extent that makes you believe no one ese could fit your body so perfectly. Your mouth falls agape and you clasp his shoulders in order to keep yourself grounded; beads of sweat started rolling down your neck and his temples when you rested your forehead against Javier's, eyes kept firmly shut.

"You okay, sweetheart?" he asks once you'd manage to sit every last inch of him deep inside you. "Want me to move?"

You shake your head 'no', gazing back at him to meet his preoccupied expression. "I'll do it," you stammer through the haze of rapture. "There's something I want to try."

His brows furrow in genuine confusion and a tad of concentration, but nods either way. Both his palms lay flat on your ass cheeks as you throw your head back and start moving at a leisured pace, biting your bottom lip and tangling your fingers in between his damp curls. You ride him like it's your first time doing so; grinding slowly and calculatedly, barely bouncing and more like swaying your hips rhythmically, feeling his cock nudge that particular spot that has your thighs trembling.

"Fuck-" Javier inhales heavily, using his strong hands to guide your movements without a change of cadence. "Look at you, sweetheart," he coos, his thumb grazing your clit in a very delicate manner that makes you yelp softly, "you look so pretty when you take it."

A wave of heat pools at the base of your spine, prompting you to tug at his hair. "Jesus Christ- you feel amazing..."

Your fingers slither upwards to pinch your nipple, adding to the slick between your legs. He grunts in annoyance, pushing your hand away and replacing it with his own, ducking his head down to fondle the sensitive area with his tongue. The sounds that leave your mouth have an immediate effect on him, thrusting his hips further into you involuntarily. A high-pitched moan falls from your lips as he meets your rhythm with an intensity that makes you dizzy.

"Such sweet noises you make," he praises in between shaky moans. "Oh, fuck-" is followed by a string of curses in spanish, sounding akin to a growl when you clench around him, leaking onto his shaft. "My perfect girl."

Your hands are never steady, roaming across his clothed back, chest and scalp. His on the other hand, hold onto you like his life depended on it— the fervor of it all, the way you call his name as you bear down on his cock and engulf him in your arms is borderline intoxicating. He lays his forehead on your shoulder, overwhelmed by just how good everything feels.

And that awakes something in you. Javier is not the quiet, laid-back kind of lover. Though he does let you take the lead from time to time, he's never surrendered himself to you like he is right now; panting and whimpering beneath you, murmuring adorations against your skin. And it's so hot for some unknown reason. It makes your pussy a dripping mess.

"Javi, look at me," you pull his hair with mild force and he consequently throws his head back, darting his eyes up to meet your stare. The way you keep bouncing on his length makes the dangling cross on your chain hit his chin continuously. None of you actually care. "D'you think I ever do this for him?"

He doesn't answer, but the grip on your waist tightens and his brows knit together. Then, he shakes his head faintly, "No."

Your thighs are starting to feel sore, but you pay no mind to it, still too drunk on the feeling of fullness, the ravishing sensation of his dick stretching you open and hitting all your weak spots effortlessly. "That's right," you pant, pressing your cheek to his temple. "Only you."

He rubs his nose on the side of your face and you can feel the all-too-familiar scratch of his mustache on your flush skin. You breathe him in, his soft hair smelling of sandalwood shampoo. "Only me," he echoes in a gruff, possessive note.

Suddenly, his pace starts picking up and you feel unable to keep up with him, this new sensation nearly making you cry out in euphoria. Javier moves his head enough to press a sweet kiss to your jaw and you glance down at his lips before going back to his lust-blown eyes. His calloused fingers glide to form tight, lazy circles on your bundle of nerves as he keeps steadily working on your cunt; he muffles your moans with a mere brush of lips that leaves you longing for more.

You cup his face in your hands and lean forward to connect your mouths once again. It's slow at first, filled with fluttering emotions that come bubbling up your chest. You melt in his embrace, your bodies melding together as you explore each other. It's deep and passionate but still controlled; filled with a profound earnest that expresses all that cannot be said between you, but that is throughly felt.

The sensation is positively dazzling, making your heartbeat race like you just ran a marathon. The heat gathers on your lower stomach again, starting to build your second crescendo. His cock throbs inside you when your nails scratch his scalp and the kiss becomes sloppier– wetter. But it isn't the only thing that is. Javier smirks against your lips when he can no longer just feel your slick, but rather hear it too. Each time he snaps his hips, the lewd sounds of your pussy drown any other noise around. It eggs him on.

"Mírate," he forces you to look down at where you're connected and the vision is nothing but obscene. The whole scene being a glistening, sticky mess. "I've truly ruined you for anyone else."

You don't retort, your senses beginning to cloud with every single thrust. You desperately cling to his shirt, your knuckles going numb as he keeps his relentless pace. Faster, harder, deeper. He can tell you're close by the way you wrap around him, how you can't hold back your cries and drop your lips next to his ear.

"Javi, I can't..." you stutter as he soothingly runs his fingers through your hair and your vision becomes blurry.

"It's okay, you've been so good," when he speaks, his voice sounds contorted by his own high overpowering him. "Come for me, baby. I've got you."

And that's all it takes for the coil to finally snap. Your body shivers from head to toe and you go completely limp in his embrace. Your whole world is spinning, feeling slightly lightheaded as your orgasm washes over you. Javier fucks you through it, thrown over the edge by your reaction. He feels your teeth sink mildly into the flesh of his neck and all of the sudden everything in his life comes down to this very moment; all he can perceive, all he knows and cares about right now is you.

As pleasure rushes over him, he whimpers, his hips start to falter and a couple of filthy moans scratch the bottom of his throat. You call his name softly, his head falling back as he reaches his high. He comes in warm, thick spurts inside, coating your walls and spilling from your entrance whilst he works his way through his climax. An odd sense of serendipity overcomes the satisfaction that settles within him when his lungs fill with air and his heartbeat stabilizes slowly.

He hears you murmuring sweet nothings to him, feels your warm, velvety lips spreading kisses on every inch of skin that you can reach. He feels shaky, peaceful and weirdly alive. Your image surges again in front of him, making his chest swell; that characteristic guilt beginning to creep into his system. Deep down, he knows he can't keep doing this to you— holding you back, tying you to him. Though it wasn't entirely his fault.

"¿Qué piensas?" you wonder, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck. He shakes his head, refusing to answer.

Confused, you attempt to move and give him some space, but he cradles you in his arms, keeping you close. Your feel sticky with sweat and his spend dripping down your inner thighs; yet, strangely safe at the same time, letting his cock grow soft inside you.

"I don't..." he talks gently, not directly to you. "I don't wanna let you go."

There's vulnerability in his words, in the way he holds you. "You don't have to."

That's not what I mean, he wants to say. Instead, Javier leaves a tender kiss on your forehead. Push me away. Please, push me away. But you don’t do as he prays for, to his dismay.

“I guess not,” he mutters. “But it’s getting late and I want to take you home before nightfall.”

You reluctantly roll to your side, wincing from the sense of emptiness that comes with the action. “I suppose it’s for the best. I’m going out for dinner tonight, anyway.”

He playfully cocks an eyebrow at you, “With him?” you nod distractedly, taking a box of tissues from the Jeep’s glovebox. “Shit, I might need to fuck you again. Make sure you’re really satisfied and full of my cum when you’re prancing around him.”

You smile, carefully rearranging your clothes. “Well, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

In the end, no matter how either of you feel or whatever may happen in the near future, one thing is very certain: you won’t stay apart for long.

[insxghtt]

any other man — javier peña x reader

She was already getting too used to it, but maybe he just wanted to be like any other man.

warnings: implied smut but nothing explicit, angst i guess, +18

idk what this is ok i have insomnia and this just came out of it. also, english is not my first language so i apologize in advance. tell me if you like it please, leave a comment or something if you want me to continue. i really have no idea if i am good at writing or if this was all just an illusion and in reality i suck at it. idk i am really depressed lately and i am doing mY BEST OK

She was used to it. Javier called her so many times in the middle of the night, desperate for a warm touch, she even lost the count. They didn’t talk much, but she still knew him better than anyone. Better than him, even.  

Javier was one of her favorite clients. He was kinder than most men, always made sure she felt as much pleasure as he did. He also didn’t just fuck her. The first time he asked her to only sleep with him, she found it so fucking weird, even a bit creepy to be honest. After a while, she understood why. Javier was surrounded by a world that sucked all his energy. He couldn’t give himself the privilege of loving someone for free and put them at risk. 

Still, he was a human. So, she did that for him. She was the only one he didn’t fuck every time he met, and she learned to like it. Sometimes when he was gone for too long, she even missed him. 

Although, she was not used to him being so fucking cold. That night he was different, she realized it from the moment she heard his voice on the phone asking her to come over. Maybe after fucking everything out, he would go back to being the Javi she was used to, but that didn’t happen. 

After he reached the peak of his pleasure, he lay down next to her naked body. She, with a soft smile on her lips, rested her head on his chest. They stayed like that for a few minutes, their bodies still sweaty and hot. She looked at him, waiting for him to ask her to stay. Instead, all she saw was his cold expression. 

“What is it, Javi?”, she whispered. He loved that voice, the accent, the tone, everything about it. 

Yet not even her voice was enough for him to respond. She refused to give up, of course, and started to leave soft kisses on his chest. For a moment, he closed his eyes and tried to forget everything, but things were just not that simple. 

“Stop”, he said while getting away from her and standing up. That was not good. He was not a very healthy man, mentally speaking. He was a fucking DEA agent, damnit. It would honestly be concerning if he was totally okay. 

“Javi...”, she tried to speak, but he was quick to interrupt her by getting out of bed and starting to look for his clothes around the messy room. 

“You should go.” 

She laughed. Not a loud laugh, but a weak and low one, not funny at all. Nothing about that moment was funny. Still, she tried to joke. “So now you’re back to treating me like a whore?” 

“I had a tough day, alright?” 

“So now we’re back to square one because you had a bad day at work?”, she said calmly, still trying to understand. 

Her accent, her fucking accent. He could fall in love with her just by hearing it. Except that this time, the words that came with it were slightly brutal. 

“It wasn’t just a fucking bad day, damnit”, he sighed. 

After finally founding his jeans, he put them on and searched for a cigarette on one of the pockets. After finding one, he reached for the bedside table and took his lighter. 

“You’re home now, baby, you can relax.” 

He lit the cigarette, but not even a long nicotine puff was enough to make him calmer. “Don’t call me baby, you wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for the money.” 

“Well, shit, were you expecting something different? Guess you’re looking in the wrong place”, she laughed sarcastically. “You don’t have to ask twice, alright? I’m just doing my job.” 

He didn’t answer, so she just stood up and faked a smile for him like she would smile for any other man. She got dressed without giving him a single look, just like she would do in the presence of any other man. Most importantly, after getting ready, she turned to him and extended her hand waiting for her payment, just like he was any other man. 

He gave her the money. He always paid her, but why it hurt so much receiving it this time, she did not understand. 

She turned his back on him and walked to the door feeling his stare. 

“I killed a kid today”, his words were enough to make her stop immediately. “Fourteen years old. They told me I did the right thing. It still doesn’t feel right.” 

She didn’t look at him, but she also didn’t move, like she was waiting for him to continue. 

“Ask me to stay”, she whispered loud enough for him to listen, almost like she was begging for him to let her in. 

How could he? How could he do that to her? 

“I can’t.” 

“I’m not asking for you to pay me...” 

“I know.” 

She would’ve, she wanted to. Hell, he wanted it.  

“You know...”, she said turning to look at him again. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing his jeans, no shirt on, the cigarette between his fingers. God, she could stare at him the whole night if he only asked. “Every day I realize more and more how... dumb men are.” 

Javi didn’t interrupt. He continued to pay attention to every single one of her words. Partly because he loved to hear her talking, partly because he didn’t really want her to leave. 

“You build this world... this horrific, terrible and cruel world. With your own rules, with your own ideas, all of it just so you could be the ones to dictate what’s right and what’s wrong”, she had tears in her eyes, but she did not cry. She would never cry in front of him. “And at the end of the day the very same world you invented is the one torturing you.” 

She sighed, swallowing the tears while watching the one man she always thought of as unbreakable, tearing up in front of her. 

“If only you could see the real world behind the one you made up, you’d see that there’s no good or bad”, she gave him a sad smile. “Don’t worry, Javi. None of us are going to heaven.” 

And after she closed the door behind her, he felt the loneliness hit him like never before.  

[theorganasolo]

Happy New Year's Eve!

Tagging some amazing fics I enjoyed this year ✨

Learning to Live by @wheresarizona- Bestie I'm so proud to call you my friend and I have loved seeing this story grow to what it is now and of course seeing Javi get the softness he deserves - you write Javi so well and I can't wait to see the adventures he and Cielito get up to in the New Year!

It's Never Too Late by @javierpena-inatacvest - I was late starting this story this year and I'm so glad I discovered it when I did! It's chock full of Javi getting the peace he needs post- Narcos and of course, some girl dad Javi snippets! Looking forward to seeing what happens in the New Year!

Worth the Wait (linking the most recent update) by @kteague- What can I say? I loved this story when you first posted and I love it even more now! I'm so happy you decided to keep writing it, each chapter sucks me in even more!

Because of You by @kteague - Gosh what can I say about this that I haven't already? You write Frankie so so well! I love seeing him with his Girasol and two little girls!

Sweet Creature by @wildemaven - I loved this so much!! You write Dieter incredibly well and I got so happy when I saw a new update cross my dash each time - It was nice to see him settle down and find peace (seems to be a common theme of what I like haha)

Until Now, Until You by @wildemaven- Really looking forward to seeing this update in the New Year! You had me hooked with the summary and the first part of this!

Away by @cool-iguana - I just LOVE seeing Javi in love and in domesticity with his wife it's just so incredibly sweet!

Vampire Waltz (linking most recent update) by @wardenparker - I absolutely adore your soulmate sunday fics and this is such a exciting read - you always have the best AUs!

Stuffing by @palioom - My weakness is husband!javi with his pregnant wife so this was absolutely everything to me!

The Married Javier Peña Masterlist by @lokischocolatefountain - GOSH I love this universe so so much! Every update makes me smile

Home by @liltangerineart- I come back to this story so many times and it always puts a smile on my face!

Honey-Do by @kiwisbell - GOSH I can't tell you how many times I have re-read this Joel fic with the TOP TIER BREEDING KINK

Good to Me by @swiftispunk - The AU I didn't know I needed of Joel as a gynecologist - it's SO FILTHY IN THE BEST OF WAYS

Stripped Down Love by @absurdthirst - I love the trope of reader having a crush on Javi when they were younger and then them getting together when they're older!

The Big Day by @mellowswriting - I love how you write Javi having the biggest wife kink in your fics and seeing the day you became is wife is everything to me!

A Good Man Universe by @forever-rogue- I LOVE LOVE this Javi universe so much! I'm really happy that you updated this year :)

I'm sure I'm missing a lot of amazing fics so please know if I ever reblogged a fic I loved it!

[alltheirdamn]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Thank you bbs for the tag @joelmillerisapunk @mermaidgirl30

Here’s a sneak peek at Part II of Cat and Mouse:

Javier’s fingers brushed over your lower lip eliciting a small whine as you bit back the pain. He continued trailing his fingers up your face, tracing the bruises and cuts until the touch became a phantom as his hand dropped to his side. You studied him, searching through the pools of chocolate in his eyes for an answer to the softness he regarded you with.

“I saw you kill those two men. They didn’t even have time to touch you. So, who did this?” His voice was dark.

You inhaled a pained breath, watching as his eyes fell to your lips. It was apparent that he was angry and more than that… worried. On all accounts, he should be trying to kill you; driving a knife into your chest or sending a bullet through your head…but he looked at you like he cared. And you hated it.

“I’m fine, Peña.”

He bridged the gap, this time a breath away from your body. It would be so easy to fall into his arms and let the day die around you, but that would mean showing your weakness. You couldn’t afford that. You couldn’t let your control slip…again.

Javier opened his mouth to make some remark, but you cut him off before he had time to even make a noise.

“Leave me alone. Please.”

God, you sounded pathetic. Everything was crumbling beneath your feet, and you barely had the energy to stay afloat. Truth be told, he was the reason why you were drowning; you just wouldn’t admit it.

Javier’s hands circled your waist, holding you firm against his body as he tilted your face to meet his eyes, his fingers gentle around your bruised jaw. He was cradling a ticking time bomb and if he didn’t leave soon you would drag him under the rubble with you.

NP Tags: @lotusbxtch @yxtkiwiyxt @janaispunk @mountainsandmayhem

[prolix-yuy]

My lovely @scorpio-marionette, you are kicking off one of the most entertaining positions this wheel spinner gave us - the Honey Bear! I googled it before and found an explanation but now it's apparently scrubbed from the internet, so you'll have to leave it up to imagination for this one. And maybe an unlikely pick, but I think you'll enjoy where this goes.

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Position: Honey Bear

Word Count: 1043

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, handjob, oral sex (m receiving), rimming (m receiving), prostitution, allusion to sex toys.

Notes: There are some boys that fit the Honey Bear position perfectly (and we'll see them soon enough!) but I wanted a challenge and boy, did it ruin me in the best way.

He only comes to you when he needs something special.

The other girls know what he wants - deep, connected fucking, all hands and mouths and breath panted over skin. He’ll fuck them through their orgasms, denying his own until he’s satisfied that they’ll remember his name. He’s giving, they whisper when a new girl catches his eye, and very good. Could have any woman outside the brothels but DEA makes things tough for him. Give him everything he wants and he’ll make you see stars.

And he does. He gives and takes and leaves everyone in his wake satisfied. Maybe a little sadder to know Javier Peña found solace in them when he can find it nowhere else. 

But none of them know him like you do, because he only comes to you when he needs more.

He’s at your door tonight, halfway through a fresh pack of cigarettes and entering quickly. It’s not a secret that he sees you. No one knows what you do behind closed doors. It’s more of a habit. By the time he’s on your doorstep he’s frayed every last rope he’s holding, and needs to let go. You won’t make him wait.

It starts with a shower. You lead him under the hot spray and massage your fingers into the knots in his shoulders, the stiffness in his back. Soaping your hands, you wash him head to toe, scratching through his hair and tugging at the strands to begin emptying his thoughts. He’s pliant by the end, the darkness receding around the edges. 

Then, you bring him to your bed, spread him out and prop him up. He lets you fawn over him, tucking a pillow under his hips and fluffing the ones supporting his head. His fingertips trail over your skin, caressing as you settle on his lap. His cock fills against your softness, hips rolling instinctively. Pleasure is second nature to him, but you coax him to close his eyes. The hypnotic paths of your lips and fingers even out his breathing, kneading at the base of his skull to relieve the tension. Your lips wrap around one of his nipples and gently suck, eliciting a weak gasp. You know it’s time when he writhes without self-consciousness beneath you.

Dragging down his body, a mottling of kisses to follow, you settle between his spread knees. His cock is thick between his legs, flushed a pretty mauve and leaking. Scratching your nails lightly through the wiry hair, you catch him fisting at the sheets.

“Relax,” you murmur, hands sliding up his thighs to slot behind his knees. His hips cant up a fraction, making you smile. He’s always neediest just before you begin. 

Sliding down, you lift his legs to drape over your shoulders, wiry hairs tickling your back. You lean forward enough to fold his legs toward his chest, baring himself to you with all the vulnerability he cannot offer to anyone outside this room. Only you. 

The wet stripe of your tongue begins on his cock, laving the underside from the base to the tip. He shudders and moans, one shaky hand coming up to stroke the top of your head. It’s a barely-there touch that makes you smile against his velvet skin. 

“That good, baby?” you ask, an agreeing groan following. Spitting into your palm you stroke along his length, paying special attention to the ridge of his head and squeezing briefly at the base of his cock. His hips twitch up at your pace, breath starting to quicken. 

Mouth moving lower, you gently take one of his balls into your mouth, a wide lick over the underside and soft suck punching some choice curses out of his pretty lips. They tighten between your lips, a little additional attention given to the other before you move to your true destination.

This is why Javi comes to you. The first time you did this for him he came all over his chest with a shout, wide-eyed and red-faced. The next time, he asked you for it with a stammer and clenched jaw. Now, he lays splayed before you begging for it.

You take a moment to appreciate his sweet pink hole, fluttering under your attention. Spitting on it, you admire how it glistens in the dim light of your room. The first touch clamps his body around you, the barest of licks to prepare him for what’s to come. Once he’s relaxed again you lap generously, soft and wet to relax his hole for you. Sometimes you suck ever so slightly and the whine he lets out goes straight to your clit. 

When he begins pushing back against your tongue you mouth harder, pointed pressure traveling from behind his balls to prod hard enough to make him gasp and groan. You let your tongue breach the tight muscle, swirling and stretching him enough to make his breath come in staccato pants. All the while your other hand lazily strokes his throbbing cock, precum dripping down your wrist. 

“Do you want a toy?” you ask, rewarded with shaking thighs.

“Just this, right now,” Javi grits out, and you return to fucking him with your tongue, speeding up your strokes along his cock. He quakes around you, rocking his hips as you messily lick up and down, spit slicking your chin and dripping down his asscheeks. He’s riding your face earnestly now, stomach tightening, sweat sheening on his skin, lost to the world with only bliss on his mind.

He cums thick ropes for you, splattering on his stomach as you press your thumb to his asshole to prolong his pleasure. Once his hips stop snapping into the air he falls weakly back to the bed, chest heaving. You wipe him down with a warm washcloth, taking a moment to brush your teeth before returning to him. He motions for you to lay beside him, and gathers you in his arms with  his nose pressed into the crown of your head. You let him ease for many long minutes. The clock doesn’t mean much with the two of you.

“What are you thinking about, Javi?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he answers, the slow drawl coaxing you further into his body.

That’s what he comes to you for.

END

LJ’s Bangathon 2023

[sp00kymulderr]

San Valentín

Part 1

Series masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x afab Reader (no pronouns)

Warnings: 18+, PWP, office sex, oral sex, light angst, valentines day.

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: This is an old fic from a couple years back, reposting after going on a mad deleting spree of my fics last year

You hadn’t planned to end up backed up against the wall in the small, dimly lit supply closet during your afternoon coffee break.

This definitely wasn’t the place you expected to find yourself gasping against bruising kisses from your handsome and persuasive fellow DEA agent.

But here you are.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, gorgeous” Javier utters between kisses, languid and teasing.

“You could’ve bought me flowers” you huff in response, pulling away from him and rolling your eyes.

“But isn’t this more exciting?” he pushes close again.

“Javier Peña, you’ve placed me too close to scissors and staple guns to not be bringing me chocolates and still thinking you can kiss me” you raise your eyebrows at him, but then he grins and you laugh back, pressing your hands against his chest before you kiss again. You couldn’t stop if you tried.

He knows you don’t mean it; your arrangement has never been a flowers and chocolates kind of thing. No candlelit dinners, no grand gestures, nothing sappy and sweet for the two of you. Nothing that involves too much feeling. Both of your lives are too messy for storybook romance.

Instead, it’s this. It’s hedonistic rendezvous in off-the-beaten-track Bogotá bars - drunk and sweaty, dancing so close it’s vulgar. Rushed trysts in between assignments, meeting at your place at 3am after two weeks without seeing each other. Never once saying “I missed you”.

And that’s fine, absolutely fine. Both too busy and involved in your work to be really in it, but the thrill of it keeps adrenaline buzzing through your bodies and the lust never dies out. Sure, it’s complicated in ways you don’t know how to even say yet, but it could be a lot worse if you got really involved. In this line of work, there’s such a chance of heartbreak it only makes sense to take the least painful option.

Javier brings you back to reality with the tickle of his facial hair against your exposed skin and then the nip of teeth on your shoulder. You let your head fall back, groaning when he does the same thing on your neck but harder, sure to leave a mark.

“Careful” you warn, but there’s no threat in your voice at all. In fact it makes you warmer, makes you clench your thighs together as heat starts to dance in your centre.

“Oh you love it, I know you do” Javi reminds you, knowing how you like to admire them when you think he’s not looking.

“Mmmhm” is about all you can manage, feeling his fingers skirting under the hem of your blouse. His skin on yours is wonderful, there’s no two ways about it, his slightly rough touch makes you melt in to him with no control. You always want more of that contact. Drunk on his touch and his lips and his eyes. Everything about the man makes you weak at the knees, and he knows just how to use that to his advantage.

By now, your blouse is unbuttoned revealing your soft skin. Curve of your breasts capturing his interest as he kisses a trail over each and then down between them. You let out a breathy half-laugh half-mewl when his moustache hair tickles against your skin again.

“Javi, we should probably get back to work soon” you tell him breathily, convincing absolutely no one as you half heartedly making an attempt to move about an inch towards the door. His hand of your stomach holds you in place against the wall.

“It’s only been a few minutes, it’s fine” he brushes you off, at the same time unbuttoning your pants. “Fuckin’ wish you’d worn a skirt today. Take those off” he commands, nonchalant, and you oblige without thought. The atmosphere shifts in an instant from playful to something fiery, the heat of it buring you with how badly you want this.

This is an idiot idea, you think even as you step out of the trousers and leave the garment crumpled on the floor. If only you could resist him. If only he could stop being such a fucking turn on.

He drops to his knees, hands rubbing up the backs of your thighs. From there Javier can see exactly what he’s doing to you, the thin fabric of your underwear soaked.

“Now-” he starts, staring up at you, venerating. He runs those hands up over the curve of your ass to your hips, hooking his fingers under the fabric of the lacy panties. You brace slightly against the wall and open your legs to him. He doesn’t have to ask.

“-don’t forget to be very,” stopping to press his lips against the inside of your right thigh.

“very” next stopping to kiss against your left thigh

“quiet” he smirks, pulling down your underwear which you step out of without hesitation.

Fuck.

The man wastes no time after that, enjoying the way you gasp so beautifully as he uses his fingers to part you and then runs his tongue along your sex, ending with a teasing flick against your already swollen clit.

“Christ, you taste so sweet” he groans against you, causing a shiver up your spine.

Your chest heaves, gulping for air while he explores you with his tongue. The way he focuses all attention on this task, devout urgency with which he tastes you, it’s purposeful and his intention is to get you off as quickly and thoroughly as possible. He pushes a finger inside of you, then soon after another, as his tongue presses and circles around your sensitive nub.

You whimper his name, but too loud. That earns you a slap on the ass with his free hand. Of course that only makes you even more needy for him, sending sparks through you. Never mind your moans, the whole embassy can probably hear the thump of your heart against your chest right now.

He looks up at you as he worships you from his knees, your eyes catching each other until you have to press them closed tight, when he makes you see stars. The way he alternates between sucking against your clit between his lips and using his tongue is enough that you feel yourself already on the verge.

“Javi!” you gasp, quiet as you can “You’re so...so good to me. You’re so fucking good. Pl-please, keep doing that”, babbling because at least it stops the whines that otherwise threaten to escape you.

The hands that were pressed flat against the wall behind you now come to run through his hair, grasping tighter than he anticipates. When you begin to rock your hips, to help get you to where you need to be, he moans in appreciation against you and you have to bite down to stop yourself reacting too loudly. He removes his fingers, using his mouth and his lips and his tongue to get you there as you practically ride his face, chasing your rapture.

“Fuck..fuck..Javi don’t you dare stop. I’m- oh my god” you shudder as you fall off the edge and dive head-first in to complete bliss. He drives you through it, still working his mouth on you until the orgasm shakes you and he has to almost hold you up while you convulse with pleasure. You have to hold a hand to your mouth to stop from shouting, it’s so powerful.

When you come out of your stupor and straighten up on shaky legs, Javier is a sight to behold. Lips and chin slick with you, hair out of control on his head. Eyes half-lidded as he stares back with a crooked smile, almost as dazed as you. After he helps you with your clothes and you try to fix his hair you pull him up to you, kissing him and sighing in satisfaction.

“That was better than flowers, right?” he asks, tone playful “Or do I need to keep going?” rutting against you, showing just what he means.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Peña” you laugh, resting your hands on his hips “But you know I can’t keep quiet through that”

Javier nods, memories stirred and he shifts uncomfortably in his tight jeans.

“We’ll have to work on that another time, then. You’d better go first, ok?” he smooths your hair and straightens your blouse for you.

“I could come over tonight? Return the favour”

“Not tonight. I can’t….meeting someone” he looks away, not wanting to meet your eyes when he says it.

Oh. Of course he is, another ‘informant’.

Suddenly, you’re both snapped back to the harsh reality of this world you live in. Your heart sinks, it’s all fine and good when you’re letting lust and need take control but despite it all stupid, stupid you still lets yourself get ambushed by feelings you thought you had buried deep.

“Right” You nod, trying not to let your face show the unrealistic hurt you feel. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Javi”

It’s sadistic, this life. It really is. But you both know you’ll let yourselves get caught in it every time.

Because the thing is, you’ll take the storm of pain in all it’s fucked up glory if it means you can spend even one minute feeling as alive, as free, as wanted as you do in the calm that comes before.

Happy Valentine’s Day indeed.

[pandaskull]

Tongue tied

Javier Peña x Reader (no Y/N)

TW: None, except for my bad english. Also, this is my first fic, so please bear with me.

<800 words

You've always been drawn to Javier Peña's rugged charm, his piercing gaze and his confidence. There's just something about him that makes you weak in the knees every time he walks into a room, which is inconvinient, considering that you have to work with him almost every day. Although it's rather easy to control yourself when you're in the office, it becomes a nightmare when it's just the two of you.

"Can you remind me why I agreed to this? I sound like an idiot" You were in Javi's appartment, reading a small paper that he had written for you.

"No you don't. And you're the one who asked me to help you with your English" He said with that irresistable smirk of his, which only made you feel more embarrassed. "C'mon, read it again, I know you can."

You stared at him for a moment, deciding if you should continue with this or just leave him there. At that moment you made the mistake of looking into his eyes, and you realised that you didn't want to stop looking at them. Ever. You sighed loudly, lifting the paper to take a look at it while you recited in the slowest possible way "Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers. A peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked. If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers. Where’s the peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked?"

"Well" he said, trying to contain his laughter "you definitely tried. Making up the pronunciation of every word, but you tried." When you pulled a face, he bursted out laughing.

"Huevón" (asshole) You muttered under your breath as you got up from the sofa and turned to leave. "Espera, perdona, no quería reírme. Quédate. Si no quieres seguir podemos hacer otra cosa" (Wait, I'm sorry, I didn't want to laugh. Stay. If you don't want to continue we can do something else) He had grabbed your wrist so lightly that you thought you were imagining it. "¿Y qué sugieres, Javier?" (And what do you suggest, Javier?) He slowly slid the hand what was on your wrist in a featherlight touch up your arm, while his warm eyes locked with yours. He was leaning dangerously close to you "I have a couple of ideas".

You looked down at his lips for a second, before sitting back down and grabbing the paper again, hands shaking slightly. How you could resist him was still a mistery to you, but you didn't want to do anything that could make things weird at work, no matter how much you actually wanted it. He sat next to you, much closer that before, and your breath hitched involuntarily. You tried to focus your attention on the paper, but your thoughts were running wild. Despite that, you tried to keep your cool and started reciting, faster than before "Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers. A peck of pickled pekp PUTA MADRE" You cursed frustrated, dropping your head in your hands.

"You know, I know a way to loose a tied tongue." You raised your head, looking at him in disbelief. "I know you want it, cariño, don't try to deny it." Javi's hand moved to your knee, resting there enough to make you go crazy, but trying to be respectful in case he had read you wrong. "Es sólo para ayudarte con el inglés, podemos parar cuando quieras" (This is just to help with your English, we can stop whenever you want)

Your gaze dropped to his lips "Javi, this is not very professional". The moment his name left your mouth in that soft sigh he know he had you. "I won't tell if you won't tell" he whispered, his voice sounding even lower than normal.

You could feel the electricity around you while you waited for him to close the space between you, but he wasn''t moving. And he didn't have any intention on doing so. So you leaned in, trapping his lips in a searing kiss that knocked the air form you lungs and sent shivers running down your body. When his hand that wasn't on your leg moved to the back of your neck, tangling his fingers in your hair, you sighed, opening your mouth just enough for him to properly taste you, tongues finally tying together.

[voirists]

Dude... and here I thought it couldn't get any better than Javier fucking Peña fucking Cielito for a whole fucking chapter.

I am ON. MY. KNEES. for all this fucking domesticity. Fuck, this is so good. The intimacy of just... all that touching just for the sake of touching, all those feelings, the adoration they have for each other... fuck. Makes me so fucking weak. This has to be my favourite chapter yet.

It's kind of ridiculous, really. It's been three days, but it doesn't feel rushed, it just feels right. Fuck, this is so good. Three days and Javi knows Cielito is the one he's going to marry. Three days and Cielito knows she's fucking ruined for anyone but him—and halfway in love with him. Like I am with this story and Javi and the way you write. Three days since I started reading and rereading this series. Fuck, it makes me so fucking soft. Soft Javier Peña will be the death of me, you know what I'm saying? I am ruined. Your writing makes me smile like a fucking idiot and I wouldn't have it any other way. I actually don't know how I'm going to stop reading it. I think I'll get withdrawal symptoms.

And the way they both enjoy getting the other off so much? The way Javi is so worried when she holds him in her throat a little long, and lays between her legs and just spoils her, no rush, no urgency this time? The way he hugs her so fucking tight when it settles in that she is his girlfriend, and how he keeps complimenting the food again and again? The way he asks if he can cold her and pulls her on top of him like that? His hands are so hard and calloused and strong, and he is so fucking warm and kind and gentle and—

Dude. Fuuuuuckkk.

Yeah. Fuck.

Learning to Live Part 5

summary: Taking a break from your naked activities to have dinner and watch a movie, shouldn’t be too difficult. Or is it?

pairing: Javier Peña/f!Reader

rating: E (18+! Smut!! Soft Javier Peña (but he fucks) Oral sex (f & m receiving), deepthroating, vaginal fingering, come eating, dirty talk, praise, multiple orgasms, Javier being a consent king, lots of kissing, FEELINGS, domestic fluff, softness)

word count: 8k+

A/N: This is a direct continuation of part 4. Lots of soft moments, feelings, and spice. We see from Javi’s POV and Reader’s POV. Thank you for reading! Asks and dm’s are always welcome. This story is dedicated to my bestie and light of my life, @juletheghoul . Thank you to my truly wonderful friend and beta invisibleismyname. Next part is done so it should be up in the next couple of weeks. Thank you, again, for reading! I do love hearing what you thought!

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Javier couldn’t remember the last time he’d showered with someone.

The informants were never at his place long enough, and he definitely didn’t at the brothels. The only woman who’d stayed at his apartment for longer than a few hours was Elisa, and they hadn’t, their activities staying in the bedroom and living room.

Was it before Colombia?

Sure as fuck wasn’t after.

Whenever it was, it obviously wasn’t as memorable as this experience. He had to wonder if it was always this intimate, as Cielito’s hands worked the shampoo into his hair, massaging his scalp as she did it. His eyes were closed as her fingers worked, and he couldn’t help the sigh that escaped his lungs, feeling his body almost go liquid under her touch.

She’d washed her own hair but let him scrub her down with her soaped-up purple loofah. He’d kissed her skin before lathering her up with the body wash that smelled like her, maybe spending a little too much time on her tits, her good-naturedly saying, “Really, Javi?” in an exasperated tone. He’d loved washing her and stealing kisses, taking care of her, and now her hands were on him, and he was pretty sure he was in heaven.

“Shampoo is done,” she said, taking him from his thoughts. “Feel free to rinse.” He opened his eyes to see her smiling at him. He did as she said, and she pulled him back towards her when he was done, putting a glob of conditioner in her hand from one of the fancy bottles on the shelf.

He recognized the scent as what her hair smelled like, and it made him smile that she’d use it on him—that he’d go home with a reminder of her. He loved when her perfume lingered in his truck after their dates, and he’d frowned when it had faded away, planning in his mind the next time he could take her out and drive her somewhere.

He ducked his head to make it easy for her to do the same motions as she’d done with the shampoo, and he relaxed into the ministrations again, his hands holding onto her hips. She had a look of concentration on her face, eyes on where her hands were working, and it took all of his self-control not to close the distance and press his lips against her own. Her fingers began rubbing at the back of his neck, and his body shuddered at just how good it felt, tingling and warm.

Fuck.

He couldn’t stop himself.

The need was too high with the way she was making him feel, and Javi gave in, her body close enough to his that all he had to do was bend down a little to have his mouth on hers, kissing her lips. He felt satisfied when she made a surprised sound in the back of her throat, her fingers stopping their motions.

“You’re distracting me,” she grumbled against his mouth.

He chuckled, mouth moving to kiss her nose.

“Sorry,” he said.

He wasn’t.

Her eyes narrowed, and he grinned.

“You’re not.”

“I’m not.”

She sighed, shaking her head with a smile.

“You may wash out the conditioner.”

“Yes, Cielito,” he answered, quickly kissing her then stepping under the water.

“Can I wash your body?” She asked when he was done, holding up the loofah and biting her lip, not looking sure.

“You can do whatever you want to me,” he said, and it was true. Anything she wanted, and he’d bend to her will.

She smiled.

“Which body wash?” She pointed at a small collection of differently colored bottles, some looking expensive, and all definitely fancier than the stuff he got at the department store.

“The one you used,” he answered.

She nodded. “Good choice,” she said, grabbing a champagne-colored bottle, popping open the cap, and pouring some out onto the shower sponge. “It’s currently my favorite.”

“It’s my favorite, too,” he said.

Her smile got bigger.

“Good to know. Now, I’m not going to spend a ridiculous amount of time soaping up your boobies,” she said. “I’ll kiss them, though.” She leaned into him, kissing over his heart, then moved to the other side, pressing her lips against him. She quickly dipped her head down to flick her tongue against his nipple, and the jolt of pleasure was immediate, making his cock stir as he gasped out a fuck. He grabbed her hips, pulling her into him and moving his head down to kiss her.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Cielito,” he murmured against her lips.

“Sorry,” she said. “Okay.” She nodded to herself. “No more funny business.”

He chuckled, letting go of her, and moving back to give her room to work.

As much as he wanted her again, they did need to eat, and it would probably be good to have a break and take some time to cool down.

Fuck, I’m old.

If he was still in his twenties or, shit, his early thirties, he could probably go all night with minimal breaks. But now? He could feel his age; his back ached, and he needed more time to recover, especially since each time he’s come inside her, it’s felt like her pussy was sucking his soul straight from his dick.

His cock twitched at the reminder.

He really was addicted to her—all of her.

They could probably get in a few more rounds after dinner. He had hours before he needed to get home to sleep for work in the morning.

The thought of having to leave made him frown.

Would she let him come over tomorrow?

Was that too much to ask?

The loofah brushed over his nipple, and it made him shiver, his focus back on her rubbing it all over his chest. It felt so fucking good. His eyes closed, sighing as he smiled again, basking in the feeling of her scrubbing along his chest and stomach like he was under the hot sun—soaking up her affection like warmth from the sun’s rays, making him go lax.

If his brain thought too hard, he was a little overwhelmed by the intimacy of having another person wash and take care of him. Javier couldn’t imagine doing this casually with someone—there was too much vulnerability and too many feelings involved in trusting someone like this. He guessed maybe if it was just sex in a shower, quick in and out, possibly, but when you added in this element, this layer, letting your guard down for another person, it made it seem much more real.

To him, this was more intimate than sex.

Which had to say something about him.

He couldn’t think of a time in his adult life that someone touched his body this much without the implication of it leading to sex. He frowned, because he liked non-sexual touching; holding hands, cuddling, touching another for the sake of touching—fucking loved it, craved it. But his past encounters were generally sexual in nature. It suddenly made sense why he almost felt compelled to constantly touch and kiss the woman in front of him—she welcomed it and showed her affection just as freely, because she simply wanted to and not because she expected anything from it.

She was drawn to him the same way he was drawn to her.

And she liked him.

Fuck, he had it bad for her.

His attention was back on her when she finished washing his front and turned him to do his other side, starting on his legs and working up. He noticed she was staying in one area a little longer than the others.

He twisted his upper body to look down at her behind him with a raised eyebrow and half of his mouth tilted up. “What did you say about ridiculous amounts of time and tits? You seem really focused on my ass,” he said.

“Shush,” she replied, standing up and pinching his asscheek, causing him to jump. “You got your fun with my boobs. It’s only fair I get some time with your butt,” she ended the sentence with another pinch.

He laughed. “Whatever you say, Cielito.” He turned forward again and felt her lips kissing all over his back, making him sigh as his body relaxed. “Fuck, that’s nice,” he whispered, and he felt her smile against him.

It was only a minute or so for his back to be done, him turning around to face her.

“You can get whatever I missed,” she said with a smile, handing him the bottle of body wash.

He chuckled as he accepted it.

“No problem,” he replied.

Once his body was sufficiently washed and rinsed, the shower was turned off, and they quickly found themselves drying off with big soft towels that Javier imagined luxury hotels used.

When he was done, towel discarded in a laundry hamper, he leaned his naked hip against the bathroom counter. His arms were crossed over his chest as he watched her handle her wet hair, which required a lot more maintenance than his own. He was curious, or maybe the more truthful answer was he didn’t want to leave her presence, even to just go sit in another room.

She looked at him in the middle of using a brush.

“You’re going to watch me do this?” She asked, pointing at her head.

“I can wait in the bedroom?” He answered, frowning at suddenly feeling unsure.

Was it weird for the two of them to stand naked in the bathroom, him watching her do her hair?

He wasn’t sure.

He remembered Lorraine did prefer being alone when she did her beauty regimen, and would snap at him if he interrupted. Maybe this was something Cielito also liked to do alone.

“No, no,” she said quickly. “Just not used to an audience.” She gave him a genuine smile. “I’d love for you to hang out with me.” She looked back into the mirror and continued. “We can talk. What do you want to eat?”

He let out a breath, relaxing.

“Whatever you want to make.” He smiled, shrugging.

“Hmmm, pasta or breakfast?” She asked, glancing at him.

“Which is the quicker and easier of the two?”

She laughed. “Breakfast, and it would be more protein-packed, which would be good for all of the bedroom activities.”

“You also have the living room, and I’m sure I can figure out something in the kitchen,” he said, mind going through possible scenarios that had blood heading straight towards his groin. Her mouth fell open, and it made him chuckle. “Breakfast is a good idea,” he added with a wink.

She cleared her throat, shook her head, and continued her task.

“A menace,” she mumbled under her breath, and Javier laughed.

He was comfortable and relaxed as the conversation continued, switching to safer topics that didn’t risk exciting them, agreeing that since they’d missed the movie at the theater, they could watch something while they had dinner. He suggested the cartoon lion movie, and she’d brightened, nodding enthusiastically that they could watch it. This led to him finding out that she had a small collection of other Disney movies that, even though she’d been an adult when they’d come out, she enjoyed them, and he said he’d like to watch them with her, which resulted in him getting a beaming smile and a quick kiss.

It wasn’t long for her to finish with her hair, and Javi felt like a puppy as he followed her into the bedroom, eyes staying on her as she pulled open the top drawer of a dresser and got out a pair of black panties, slipping them on, then moving practically naked across the room to his discarded clothes. He stared at her body as she walked away from him, taking in the lines and curves, admiring the way she moved and how he wanted to touch her all over.

She was so fucking beautiful.

She bent down in front of him, her lace-covered ass on display, and he felt the blood in his body rush to his dick at the thought of touching it, feeling its swell in his hand, grabbing it, smacking it.

She turned, holding up his shirt, and he realized she’d said something and missed whatever it was.

“Sorry?” He asked dumbly.

She had a knowing look on her face like she knew he’d been checking her out, and he was half-hard in seconds.

“Is it okay if I wear this?” She asked again.

The thought of her wearing something of his had some kind of feeling coming over him he couldn’t name, but it made his chest puff out and his blood sing.

He nodded, smiling. “Yeah. That’s fine.”

She put it on, only buttoning enough of it, so it wasn’t completely open, leaving gaps for him to get glimpses of her body underneath. The thought of eating her out in nothing but his shirt, had his throat going dry.

She looked at him, cocking an eyebrow.

“Are you going to help me cook while naked?”

Right, he should put on his pants.

“I’ll wear my jeans.” He paused, smirking when he spoke again. “Don’t need you getting distracted by my bare ass.”

“Rude,” she frowned, and he found himself walking the few strides towards her, cupping one of her cheeks while his other hand grabbed her ass, kissing her mouth until the frown lifted into a smile, pecking her one last time.

“I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” he said, squeezing her ass.

“Sounds good,” she laughed, leaning up on her toes to kiss him quickly before turning towards the door.

His eyes moved to her ass, seeing its roundness under his shirt, and he playfully swatted it as she walked away from him, making her gasp, giggling as she left the room.

He pulled on his jeans, not bothering with buttoning them, and grabbed the empty water glass from the bedside table before padding towards the kitchen.

Javier couldn’t tell she’d only been living here for a week. The place already had a homey feel to it—lived in, almost like she’d been there for years. He didn’t spot any boxes, which surprised him since he still had stuff he hadn’t unpacked upon returning, and it had been over a year. He wasn’t sure if it had more to do with laziness on his part or not wanting to see reminders of his past, but if he had to guess, he’d say the latter.

Her bedroom led directly into the living room, a big green potted plant directly to his right, split leaves rising in a spot that would get a good amount of light when the large window near it was open. There was a grey wooden console table under the window, a record player on top of it, a couple smaller potted plants that had dark green leaflets arranged along rising stems, and two crates of vinyls on the shelf below.

He spotted so many things around her apartment that just made sense.

He could see her nurturing and caring nature proudly displayed with the vibrant plants, her love for music and movies with her collections of records and VHS tapes in the entertainment center, the love and comfort she found in reading with the creased spine book on the coffee table, and her sentimentality and love of the ocean with the seascape paintings.

On their first date, when she was telling him about herself, she lit up talking about how moving to Laredo meant she was closer to the gulf and beach, and if she had that kind of reaction from simply talking about it, how excited would she be actually going? Javier was determined to find out, wanting to see the look on her face when she finally got a glimpse of the sandy beach and waves, knowing it would be breathtaking.

He saw the roses on the table by the front door and made a quick detour to grab them before continuing to the only noise in the apartment.

He found Cielito pulling items from the fridge and setting them on the counter beside her.

She had a galley kitchen—the doorframe from the living room opening up to a wide, straight walkway, with parallel lengths of cabinets and kitchen appliances on either side. On the opposite wall from the door, was a little open area, a window in the wall, and her small dining room table with the sunflowers he’d brought the day before sitting in their vase. He’d walked far enough into the room to stand at the cabinets across from her, setting the roses down on it, and not wanting to get in her way.

She turned toward him with a big smile on her face.

“Okay, I know what I’ll cook. Do you actually want to help?” She asked. “Because I’m fine doing it all, you can just watch and keep me company,” she said with a shrug.

He frowned. He was raised that if someone was cooking and you were in the kitchen, you helped or stayed out of their way, and he genuinely wanted to help. Plus, if his mom were still alive, she’d kick his ass if he didn’t help his girlfrie—

Girlfriend.

The woman smiling and wearing nothing but his shirt and some panties was his girlfriend. She’d agreed to be in a committed relationship with him. When she’d agreed, he was still riding the post-fuck high, the only thing he’d felt was happiness, and it hadn’t really processed. Now that he had a clear mind, he was suddenly bombarded with emotions. The biggest and most overwhelming of them all were shock, happiness, and fear.

She wanted to be with him?

She wanted to be with him!

She wanted to be with him.

How had he not fucked this up already?

How did he get so fucking lucky that someone like her would want anything to do with someone like him?

He watched her eyebrows knit together, lips turning down in a small frown.

“Javi?” She asked, head slightly tilting to the side.

She wanted to be with him, and he wanted to be with her, and when it registered—when his mind finally accepted these words as a fact, a sense of calm came over him; peacefulness; a happy contentedness that went so bone-deep it felt like it warmed his weary soul.

A lazy smile was on his lips as he set the glass he was holding on the counter behind him next to the flowers, and then he closed the distance between them, his arms pulling her tightly against his chest, resting his head against hers.

He sighed deeply because it just felt right.

She hugged him back, her hands rubbing his naked back. “You good, babe?” Came her muffled voice against his chest.

He loosened his hold, moving to kiss her forehead, nose, and finally her lips, a moan slipping up her throat.

“I’m good,” he said when he looked her in the eyes, that smile still on his face. “And I’m helping my girlfriend cook dinner.”

She smirked. “I’m jealous of whoever this girlfriend is.”

“No reason to be.” He kissed her forehead. “She’s you.”

Cielito frowned. “This is unfair.”

He looked at her, confused.

“What?”

“We have to eat dinner, and I can’t just get on my knees and suck your dick.”

She looked genuinely upset, and he had to hold in a laugh, hugging her closer to him.

“I’m sorry, Cielito.”

“I am, too.”

He let go of her.

“We’ll make dinner, eat, and whatever you want to do, we’ll do.”

Her eyes brightened.

“Anything?”

He nodded. “Anything,” he paused, eyebrows knitting together. “Within reason,” he added, thinking about his back.

She smiled, leaning up to kiss him.

“That works for me!”

He remembered something, kissing her quickly before moving from her embrace, walking to grab the glass and flowers off the counter. He stopped in front of her.

“I, uh, got these for you. Sorry about throwing them,” he said.

She laughed, taking the roses. They didn’t look too bad. Only a couple had been smooshed.

“Thank you, and it’s okay, a small casualty to our horniness.” He chuckled. “If I had to choose between sex with you or flowers,” she said. “I’d choose sex with you. There’s no competition,” she replied with a wink.

He felt his chest puff a little bit, that she seemed to enjoy fucking him. He felt his dimple in his cheek as he smiled, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her lips, before going to the sink and turning it on.

He looked over his shoulder at her. “Sex over flowers. I’ll remember that.” He focused back on the water, making sure it was cold as he filled up the cup.

“Or sex and flowers.”

He finished filling the glass, turned off the sink, and was back in front of her in seconds.

“Sex and flowers,” he nodded. “Noted. Now, please drink,” he said, handing her the glass.

She laughed, taking it in her free hand and holding it up in a toast to him. She brought it to her lips, and drank the entire glass in thirsty gulps, Javi’s eyes stuck on her throat, watching it work. She let out a satisfied breath when she finished.

“Thank you,” she said. He watched her walk to the sink, setting the roses down on the empty counter beside it, and refilled the cup with water. She returned moments later to hand it to him. “Please drink,” she said.

He smiled. “Thank you, baby,” he said, raising the glass to her, then gulping it all down, sighing when he finished.

She had a look on her face, and he knew it—the eyes darkening, lips slightly parting, her breaths coming out a little harder.

“Cielito?” He asked, a knowing smile on his face.

She looked away, clearing her throat. “Yes, Javi?” She replied breathily.

“Me drinking water really turned you on?”

She looked back at him with a shocked expression before her eyes narrowed, and she was in his space, poking a finger against his chest while she spoke.

“I told you what your neck does to me!” She accused. He couldn’t help it; he started laughing hard, clutching his chest. “Yes, laugh at my pain. My boyfriend’s walking around tits out, jeans unbuttoned, just Mr. Sex-on-legs, and all I can do is ogle because apparently, humans require sustenance for energy. Just so unfair.” She was pouting, and he found it adorable.

He calmed down, grabbed her hand on his chest with his free one, and kissed each of her knuckles.

“I’m sorry, Cielito,” he said.

She sighed. “It’s fine. Now, how good are you with a knife?”

The flowers were put into a vase and set on the coffee table in the living room, and the two of them ended up standing side by side at the kitchen counter chopping vegetables. He was impressed with her skill using a knife, quickly slicing like she was a professional chef while he went at less than half the speed. Before they started, he’d turned on her kitchen radio, tuning it to a local Spanish station his mom used to love, playing ballads and classic love songs. They talked as they worked, him telling her about when he was growing up, he’d help his mom cook all the time, and she’d host a tamalada, tamale-making party around Christmas. She’d get some friends and family together, and they’d spend an entire day making hundreds of tamales, him helping fill and eventually, when he was older, fold, too.

“A pro at tamale folding by age nine,” he said proudly.

“That’s very impressive. You said they’re your favorite food?” She asked, looking over at him, a fond smile on her face.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Ma’s tamales were the best in town, and it was my favorite time of year when she’d make them. Wouldn’t eat anything else.”

Her smile got bigger. “They sound amazing.”

His chest constricted, and he stopped chopping when it hit him that the last time he had some was before he took off for Colombia.

He frowned.

He’d been so focused on his job—on catching fucking Escobar—he didn’t get a chance to return to Laredo until it was too late and his mom was barely hanging on, wanting to see him one last time before she passed.

He swallowed hard.

It was the hardest day of his life. None of the shit that happened in Colombia compared to seeing his mom so sick and dying.

His throat felt tight at the memory, and he thought of better times.

He preferred to remember the tamaladas.

His mom singing along under her breath to Spanish crooners as she cooked and cleaned.

Him helping her bake his dad’s tres leches birthday cake every year.

Watching his parent's slow dance at family events like they were still teenagers.

The happier times.

“They were,” he finally answered.

Javi sighed.

“Miss her a lot sometimes,” he whispered, saying the truth aloud.

Cielito set her knife down, wrapping an arm around his waist to hug him against her.

Their eyes met, and he could see the sincerity when she spoke. “She was a wonderful woman, and she would have been so proud of all you’ve done. I’m sad I didn’t get a chance to meet her.”

He let her words sink in, wanting to believe his mom would be proud of him, and after a second, he was sure it was true.

His mother had worried when he’d gone off to South America. When he’d talk to her, sounding exhausted and stressed because another lead had fallen through, she’d reassure him that they’d get Escobar, and she’d say it with such conviction like it was a fact that they were going to catch the asshole, it’d reinvigorate him—he’d go back to work with renewed purpose. And she’d been right; it just happened years after she’d passed. The night he got the call from Steve, confirming their work was finally done, Javi had wished he could tell his mother—because she would have been proud.

He was looking at Cielito, her eyes rounded, and her soft, reassuring smile comforting him, and he knew something else that was true.

“She would’ve liked you,” he said, and he knew for a fact his mom would have loved her. She’d been an excellent judge of character and hadn’t cared for his ex at all. His mom was disappointed in him for how it ended, but he knew she was secretly relieved.

Cielito smiled.

“That makes me happy. And Javi?”

“Yes, Cielito?”

“I'll happily listen if you ever want to talk about her.”

He leaned down to kiss her softly.

“Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for.”

He looked at her.

“There’s a lot to thank you for.”

“I will accept that you feel that way.”

She quickly kissed him.

When the vegetables were done, he watched as she got to work at the stove, frying up some bacon in one pan, eggs in another, and having Javi pass her ingredients. They talked, her getting his mind focused on other things, and he couldn’t help feeling like this was so natural—them standing in the kitchen as they made a meal together, talking and joking, her swaying to the songs playing, probably not knowing what the lyrics meant. He felt happy and content, the two of them comfortably enjoying each other’s company and her sharing pieces of cooked bacon with him while the eggs finished.

A song came over the radio he remembered everyone slow danced to at weddings when he was younger. He turned up the volume, then moved to the stove, leaning over her, to move the pan off the burner.

“What are you doing?” She asked face scrunched up in confusion as she looked at him.

“Come here,” he said, grabbing her hands and pulling her into the middle of the kitchen floor. She caught on quickly, smiling as he took one of her hands in his, resting the other on her waist while she held onto his arm with her free hand. He pulled her into him, guiding her as they swayed, moving in a circle to the music—guitar, strings, and a man singing passionately.

She had a sweet expression on her face, eyes round, and that bright smile, following his lead.

“This song is gorgeous,” she said. “Is it a love song? I don’t understand the words, but there’s so much emotion in his voice.”

He hadn’t thought about the words.

He frowned.

“It’s actually about heartbreak.”

Her eyebrows furrowed.

“We’re dancing to a song about heartbreak?” She asked slowly.

He huffed out a breath, the two of them still moving.

“They’d play this at weddings growing up. People would dance, and the tias loved it, always singing along. It’s beautiful, but the lyrics are sad.”

She had a curious expression.

“What are the lyrics?” She asked.

He listened along as the man singing asked questions.

“It’s a man asking his wife, who has fallen in love with someone else, what the other man is like. ¿Y cómo es él? translates to, ‘What’s he like.’ He wants to know how he lost his wife.”

She frowned.

“That is incredibly upsetting.” He saw her thinking. “I can see why people dance to it, though. The lyrics might be heartbreaking, but the passion in his voice and the instrumental make it a bit romantic.”

He smiled, leaning in to kiss her before pulling her closer to him, resting his head against hers. “I get it now,” he said, “Why people dance to it, but as a kid, I was really fucking confused.”

She laughed as they kept moving.

“I can see why. I once went to a wedding where their first dance was to “Every Breath You Take” by The Police.”

He remembered the song from the eighties—there were Colombian radio stations that played English and Spanish hits—and he frowned as he thought of the lyrics.

“That song seems very, uh—“ he paused, trying to find the word.

“Stalkery?” She finished. “Yes. But the bride was obsessed with Sting.”

“That is… a choice.”

“A choice, indeed,” she giggled.

She nestled her head against his shoulder, and he kissed it again as they kept moving, swaying, the song changing to something a little more upbeat. But it didn’t matter, as they stayed in their bubble, bodies pressed close.

It was nice and felt right to Javier. This whole night had felt right, and he was enjoying all of the domesticity.

His mind wandered, imagining lazy Sundays waking up curled around one another. Making breakfast together—him stealing kisses and hugging her while she cooked. Maybe they’d watch a movie, maybe they’d just wind up back in bed. All that mattered to him was he was with her.

And the thing was, he was pretty fucking sure it would be a reality. He was committed to making it one.

He was committed to her.

She was his future.

In this second, holding her in his arms while they danced, he knew she was it.

She was the one.

No one had ever made him feel the way she did. He could truly relax with her and let his guard down. He was comfortable, content, and so fucking happy, for probably the first time in his entire life.

It all scared him.

Fucking frightened him, taking this risk, putting everything he had on the line so soon. He spent years sacrificing his happiness for the sake of his job; hell, he was unhappy before the DEA and Colombia.

Years of being miserable and stressed, relying on his vices of cigarettes, alcohol, and sex to get him through the time and make it somewhat bearable.

And now, he felt like coming back to Laredo was giving him a second chance at life, and he was going to do what made him happy for once, and she made him happy. It was scary, and this was all new territory for him—feelings, relationship, intimacy—but he knew he’d chosen the right person and could feel it in his gut that she was the right one to explore this with. He knew she’d help him, lead him, and he’d happily follow.

It could have been their last conversation or them becoming a couple, how tonight was going or how the previous two nights went, or maybe it was all of those things combined, but a thought came to him. A sentence that when it formed in his brain, he knew it was true.

I’m going to marry her one day.

This had to be the best night of your entire life—at least, you couldn’t think of anything that could top it. You knew it was absolutely the best date you’d ever been on, which was lovely, knowing that the two of you could have such a great time staying in. There wasn’t a need for a fancy restaurant or going to a theater; the two of you were happy to just hang out in hardly any clothes, talking, laughing, making dinner, and dancing—all you needed was each other’s company to have a good time.

And then there were the orgasms. The many, many orgasms; so many you lost track.

You still felt good, your body relaxed, and the only ache you had was between your legs, but it was a good ache—a welcome ache.

The dancing stopped when your stomach growled, Javi kissing the top of your head and then moving to kiss your lips gently.

“I’m sorry I interrupted your cooking,” he whispered like he didn’t want to break the spell by talking too loud.

You smiled, leaning up to kiss him again.

“Don’t apologize,” you replied just as softly. “It was a great interruption. I’d much rather dance with you than eat any day.”

Which was true. It was so romantic and wonderful, slow dancing in your kitchen, moving together as he held you in his arms. You wanted to sigh wistfully when you thought about it.

He huffed out a breath, lips turning up in a smile.

“Better make sure you eat then.”

“Eating would be smart, and Javi?”

“Yes, Cielito?”

“Thank you,” you kissed the side of his mouth. “For the best date, I’ve ever been on.”

He frowned. “I didn’t take you anywhere.”

“And you didn’t need to, which makes it even better.”

His face brightened, giving you one of those smiles where that dimple of his made an appearance, and you felt yourself melt at being the recipient of it.

“Let’s finish making dinner, Cielito,” he said.

“Sounds good,” you replied, kissing him one more time.

You finished cooking, plated everything up, and moved to the living room, where you got the movie started. You and Javi sat on your couch, plates, and forks in hands, sitting so close to each other that the sides of your bodies were pressed together.

You’d been eating for a bit as the film played.

“These eggs are really fucking good,” Javi said as he shoved another bite into his mouth.

You swallowed your own, smiling.

“You’ve said that three times already.”

“And I’ll keep telling you.”

You laughed, digging back into your food.

It was a while later, and the plates were empty and discarded on the coffee table, both glasses of water partially drank sitting on coasters, and you were cuddled against Javi, your head resting on his chest, his arm holding you against him as your finger drew circles on his naked stomach.

“This is a children’s movie?” He asked, and you knew his eyebrows were furrowed, confusion etched in his features without even looking.

“Yes,” you replied.

“This children’s movie has fratricide?”

“Yes. Attempted murder, too. Oh! And full-on murder, but I mean Scar has it coming.”

“He dies?”

“Yeah, at the end.”

“Good—don’t like him. This kid’s movie is dark.”

“But you have to admit the music is great.”

“It’s okay.”

“Psh,” you looked up at him in disbelief. “Just okay? Elton John deserves more respect than his songs being called ‘okay.’ Wait until we get to “Hakuna Matata.””

He looked confused.

“Hakuna—what?”

“You’ll see,” you said, focusing back on the movie.

Javi had liked Hakuna Matata, and during “Can You Feel the Love Tonight,” he whispered, “Are these lions about to fuck?” You’d giggled and told him to keep watching.

You’d seen the movie so many times before that as it got closer to the end, you found yourself unable to focus, Javi distracting you with his fingers under your shirt, moving in patterns on the skin of your back. He probably didn’t even realize he was doing it, but it made you very aware of him sitting beside you in only a pair of jeans. Your hunger had been satiated, and now your eyes were peeking down at his stomach, moving along the trail of hair into those unbuttoned pants and getting a glimpse of his length, soft and welcoming. Your mouth watered at the thought of him on your tongue, and your focus moved to his chest, kissing it, before moving in your seat so you could kiss up his neck.

It delighted you when he turned his head, lips finding yours, making you gasp when he pulled you into his lap, having you straddle his thighs, your arms around his neck. Your body got hot as he kissed you, moaning when he licked into your mouth, your tongues moving together as arousal pooled in your belly. His hands were on your ass, making you grind against his hardening cock, the friction on your clit sending pleasurable jolts through your body, winding you up.

The movie was forgotten, the kissing heating up until you needed air, your mouth moving along his jaw, your hand gently turning his head so you could nibble on his earlobe, making him moan.

“I love your ears,” you panted, kissing and licking up the shell, before nibbling on his earlobe again and moving to lick at the spot behind his ear that made him gasp out a fuck.

His cock was now straining under you, his hands grabbing your face to pull you in for a hard kiss, him swallowing the moan that escaped your throat as you ground your core against him.

“What do you want, baby?” He asked when his mouth came off yours.

You looked at him, seeing his pupils dilated and lips red and wet.

You nipped at his plush bottom lip, and a rough sound came out of his throat.

“I want to suck your dick,” you said. “Can I?” You asked.

He nodded. “Yes. Anything you want.”

You smiled, kissing him quickly, before eagerly crawling out of his lap and onto your knees on the floor between his spread legs. His hands were gripping the edge of the couch cushion, and you rubbed your own up his jean-clad thighs, eyes on his as you moved up and up until you were at the opening, his unbuttoned pants barely able to contain him.

You leaned forward, kissing his stomach, as your hands grabbed the waistband of his jeans, him moving so you could pull them down a little to free his cock, it springing forward and hitting you in the chest. You moved back, his eyes on yours as you licked your palm, and grabbed the base of him, hot and velvety under your touch and so thick your fingers couldn’t fully grip around him, exciting you even more.

“Fuck,” he rasped. “Love your hand on me.”

His eyes were hooded with lust, lips slightly parted as he breathed heavily.

“How about my mouth?” You asked with a smile.

“Fucking love that, too.”

“Good,” you said, giving him a few strokes.

Your mouth was watering, pussy throbbing, as you looked at his cock in your hand. You leaned in, pressing wet kisses along his shaft as you continued stroking.

“Such a beautiful dick,” you said, looking up at him through your lashes.

He was watching intently.

“Yeah?” He asked.

“Yes,” you nodded, licking the beaded precum at the tip and moaning at the salty tang.

You licked from base to tip, swirling your tongue around the head before taking him into your mouth.

Javi groaned, and you grabbed one of his hands, putting it on the back of your head, wanting him to guide you as you hollowed your cheeks, your hands ending up on his hips.

“Fuck, baby,” he gasped, grabbing the hair at the base of your skull, guiding you up and down him, going down inch by inch as you took him deeper and deeper each time you were lowering your head, moaning around him, your hand working what wasn’t in your mouth.

You understood why he enjoyed making you come so much—It was a powerful feeling, intoxicating, and made arousal burn brightly in your body, being the one pleasuring someone, and pushing them towards the edge, making them feel so good. And the sounds? Hearing the moans, groans, gasps, and whines, signs that you were getting them closer to their release, was headier than any drug.

As your head continued to move, you looked up, seeing sweat shining on his throat, his jaw slack, eyes more black than brown as he watched, transfixed, by what you were doing. Sounds were falling from those plush lips of his, and you could tell he was enjoying himself. The look and noises spurred you on, made you want more, and you let him push you down further and further until you were swallowing around him, relaxing as you took him into your throat. His breath hitched when your hand moved off him, going so deep your nose brushed the curls at the base of his cock, and tears streamed down your cheeks.

“Shit, fuck,” Javi groaned, his hand tight in your hair. “You’re too fucking good to me—taking my dick down your pretty throat. Fuck.”

You knew you had him. He was locked under your spell; it made your underwear damp, and had you rubbing your thighs together to ease the ache between your legs.

You gulped, and he whined, the sound shooting straight to your cunt as his cock pulsed, feeling like it got harder in your throat.

“Feels so fucking good, baby,” he moaned. The need for air became too much, and you sputtered, Javi immediately pulling you off of him as you wetly coughed for a few seconds, your saliva and his precum dripping from your mouth. “Shit, you okay?” He looked concerned.

Your face felt wet—the tears and spit—but you didn’t care; your mind could only focus on one thing.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you assured him, smiling. Your voice was a bit rough, but that would be expected. Your hand stroked his hard length, slick and wet, Javi making pleased sounds in his throat. “Loved it. I want to make you come in my mouth. Will you show me how you like it?”

He groaned, eyes closing for a moment, and when they opened, the concern was gone and replaced with burning want.

“Yes,” he rasped, eyes on yours. “I got you, baby. I’ll give you what you want.”

He guided your mouth back onto him, and you hollowed your cheeks again, his hand in your hair moving you up and down, moaning around him as he chose his own pace and how deep you went. It wasn’t too fast, and he wasn’t pushing into your throat again, just until he hit the back, pulling you up and pushing back down, over and over again. Your eyes stayed on him, watching his face, his cock, and your hand a mess with spit and precum, making your hand glide and mouth move easily as you worked him over.

He had a wrecked expression as he got closer, continuing to use your mouth, your moans vibrating around him, and you could tell he was on the edge by his noises and the taste of his precum getting stronger.

“Hermosa,” Javi gasped above you, hand tightening in your hair. “I’m almost there. Your mouth, fuck.” He looked pained, and you made a sound in the back of your throat that you’d heard him, continuing to move, the hand in your hair making you go faster.

Not even a minute later, he was gasping expletives as the first spurt of come hit your tongue, his eyes closing, and you held him in your mouth as he came with a deep groan, filling your mouth, his hand tightening in your hair. You waited until he finished—until you knew you’d gotten every last drop, and when his eyes opened, you let him slip out of your mouth, and then you were opening wide, showing him his spend collected on your tongue.

“Christ, baby.” His voice was deep and raspy, and you watched his throat bob, his chest rising and falling hard. The hand in your hair moved to your chin, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. “Hungry for my come, too. Swallow it for me, Hermosa.”

You happily did as he said, mouth closing and swallowing it down.

He pulled you up into his lap, straddling his thighs as he crushed his mouth against yours. He licked at your lips and chin, getting the come and saliva that slipped from your mouth, his tongue begging for entrance with a sweep across your lip, the two of you moaning when your tongues moved against each other, tasting one another.

You were panting when the need for air became too much, his mouth moving to your jaw.

“So fucking perfect,” he said between kisses. “I’m so fucking lucky.” Your panties were drenched, a wet spot seeping through when he looked you in the eyes, and you could see adoration and want shining brightly in the dark pools. “Can I lick your pussy?” He asked.

You quickly nodded, moaning out a yes, and he practically threw you onto the couch beside him, making you giggle as you laid on your back, head resting on a small pillow, as Javi shucked off his jeans.

You liked your sofa—it was a three-seater big enough you could comfortably sleep on it if you wanted. And now you loved it, since Javi was able to pull your panties off and easily move onto his stomach between your legs, his feet dangling off the sofa arm opposite you, looking comfortable in his spot.

There was no teasing like the times before. His hands pushed your thighs open wide, and he dove in like a man starved, groaning against your wet heat as his tongue parted your folds in one swift motion, going from entrance to clit, and making you moan loudly, your eyes closed as your fingers tangled in his hair for something to hold onto. He was ravenous, licking and sucking, groans vibrating against you, your thighs trembling as he worked you over, building you up and up, pushing you towards your release.

He had you panting and trembling in no time, going from fucking you with his tongue to circling your clit, over and over, until finally, he pulled your sensitive bundle of nerves between his lips and sucked. You shattered, falling over the edge with his name escaping your lips, fingers gripping his hair hard, as the waves of pleasure radiated through your limbs.

His mouth continued languidly moving as you come down from your high, licking up every drop of your come.

He waited for your breathing to even out before he popped his head up, and you opened your eyes, leaning up to see him looking at you with a lazy smile, the lower half of his face glistening in your slick.

“Are you… done?” You blurted out in surprise. Oh, god. You sounded terrible and ungrateful. Your eyes widened in horror. “Sorry! That came out wrong. I meant I’m surprised you had the control to stop! You usually just keep going. I mean, the orgasm was really fucking good. So good. Again, I really love your mouth, and thank you! Thank you for the orgasm!” You were floundering in a post-orgasmic haze.

He laughed. He actually laughed, and you frowned.

“I’m not done,” he said, chuckling. “Can I use my fingers?” He asked.

Your eyebrows furrowed.

“Can you—” You paused, thinking about his question, and the ache between your legs decided to make itself known.

You were, perhaps, a little sore from previous activities.

A sudden rush of feelings came over you, softening you to the point that you didn’t feel solid anymore, because this man cared enough to make sure he didn’t accidentally hurt you or cause you discomfort.

“I would absolutely suck your dick again,” you said.

It was his turn to look confused.

“Is that a no to fingers? I’m, uh, still recovering. I was going to get a couple more out of you while I wait.”

“A couple?” You asked, eyebrows raising.

“Yeah?”

“You do understand you’re spoiling me? Like you’re accustoming me to a life I fear I’ll never be able to give up.”

He laughed again.

“Good.”

“My God,” you said in disbelief.

Yep, he’d ruined you for anyone else.

“Fingers are okay if you’re gentle, and when you've recovered, I’m going to ride you,” you said with a nod. If you rode him, you could control the pace and ensure it didn’t hurt.

You saw in his eyes that he was envisioning it—his pupils dilating, and he nodded back at you.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

He seemed to be done with the conversation, or maybe his imagination riled him up because the next thing you knew, his face was between your legs, and you were moaning as he went to work, your hands back in his hair.

It still shook you, the way he knew how to play your body—he did it as if it were something he’d been doing for years, mastering every way to have you gasping and moaning, legs trembling, and breath stuttering. He could do it with just his mouth or even quicker if he added his fingers—and he fucking knew it turned you on that he was so good.

He started with his mouth, and like you’d asked, he was gentle with his fingers, and even though he wasn’t going as hard as the previous times, he was still just as effective—two digits pumping languidly inside you, rubbing against that perfect spot as his mouth focused on your clit—and quickly all of the nerves in your body activated as bliss consumed you, back arching as you came with a gasp and a tug on his hair.

He only paused for a moment, mouth detaching from you to speak.

“So good for me. So fucking good for me. Can you give me another?”

He didn’t let you answer. He was back at it.

This was another thing that surprised you—he knew what you could take.

You didn’t know if he was reading your body or had some weird orgasm sixth sense, but the man had somehow figured out a way to get you to come multiple times and not overstimulate you. Which was honestly impressive—and daunting at the thought of him having hours between your legs. You were positive that if you both didn’t have to work the next day, that’s probably how you would’ve spent the entire night.

You could hear him working—the wet sounds of his mouth licking and sucking, and his groans of pleasure, knowing he was super into what he was doing. You were lost in the sensations, body still riding the high from your last orgasm, as he built up another with his ministrations, and your climax crashed over you, crying out as you came.

You were panting, sated, arms and legs trembling, eyes closed as he crawled up your body, bracketing his arms beside your head as his own hovered over you. His body was pressed against yours, and you welcomed it.

“Please kiss me,” you said.

He chuckled, leaning down to press his mouth against yours, and it was softer than you expected—gentle, tender. He kissed your nose and both your cheeks.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

You sighed happily, still feeling blissfully relaxed.

“Wonderful,” you replied with a big, dopey smile.

“Can I hold you?”

“That would be amazing,” you replied, wrapping your arms around his back.

You squeaked in surprise when he bodily moved you so he was on his back, and you were laying on his chest, your head over his heart, hearing the strong beats thudding.

One of his hands was under your shirt, rubbing your back, his other smoothing along your arm, and you were so happily content; your body had that warm and fuzzy feeling going on, a smile on your lips.

You felt him kiss the top of your head, and you thought your body may have sunk even further into him.

The orgasmic afterglow, the touches, his heartbeat, the happiness, all of it soothed you and lulled you into such deep relaxation that you drifted off to sleep.

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[mellowswriting]

I saw your request about fic ideas! I love your fics with javi p and his housewife kink so something with that!

a warm welcome

pairing || Javier Peña x f!Reader

word count || 3.5k

summary || After a two week long work trip, Javier is exhausted and desperate to come home to his wife. Luckily for him, you’re ready to welcome your husband home. 

content || no use of y/n, SMUT, housewife kink, unprotected p in v, kind of rough sex, dom husband!Javier, domesticity kink (is that a thing? i’m making it a thing.), ‘grumpy asshole who’s only soft for one person’ trope, sweet and soft but a little possessive, Javi is pussy whipped lmao

a/n || the way this has been sitting in my inbox for a criminal amount of time... but I finally got inspired by the pure sex this man radiates

Javier Peña Masterlist  |  Main Masterlist

The moment Javier slipped that ring on your finger and made you his wife, he thought life couldn’t get any better. He always knew the two of you would strive to fulfill all those promises, vows of love and support, of a warm and happy life together. He anticipated a typical life - longed for it, actually. Mowing the lawn and going out on date nights. Holidays and sleeping in on the weekends. Arguing over what restaurant to order from and negotiating chores. All of the achingly mundane parts of married life came just as he expected, but it also came with so much more. 

Javier never expected his life to have the air of a goddamn Thomas Kinkade painting. 

Nearly two weeks have passed since he’s been home. The damn agency dragged him halfway across the country to speak at a conference and he couldn’t be more relieved to be trudging up his porch steps. He’s exhausted. All of the traveling and schmoozing he was forced to endure has left him tense and jetlagged, and all he wants is to collapse into bed and forget the whole thing. 

All of that melts away the second he pushes open the front door and takes in the sight in front of him. The living room is lit up with the fire blazing away in the fireplace. Blankets and pillows are laid out in front of it in a makeshift bed, the coffee table shoved off to the side to make room. The robust scent of food lingers in the air, something slow-cooked and rich. And you. Oh, you. Leaning against the archway that leads into the kitchen, wearing that soft black robe and the brightest smile he’s ever seen. 

“Welcome home.” You greet him. 

Javier drops his bags right there in the entryway and closes the space between you in three long strides. This is all he needs. The honeyed sound of your voice, the sweet smell of your perfume, the softness of your cheek against his palm - every part of you sends relief washing down his spine. Javier kisses you like a man starved, as if the sustenance to feed his soul lies right between your lips. Fuck, he missed this. He missed you. 

If the agency ever tries to send him off like that again, he just might have to quit. 

Javier wraps his arms around you and holds you close, taking a moment to simply hold you there in his arms. A relieved sigh heaves from you both and for the first time in weeks, he feels whole again. You nuzzle closer until your chest brushes his and a low, pleased sound rumbles in the back of his throat. It’s obvious you aren’t wearing much beneath that robe. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. 

“I missed you, sweetheart.” He murmurs, his hand rubbing up and down your back. Your body relaxes into his and something in his chest expands, preens at the safety you take in his embrace. “How was everything while I was gone?” 

“Don’t worry, I kept all the fires burning like a good little wife.” You tease. It earns you a playful smack on your ass. 

“Oh, I know you did. You’re always good for me.” Javi’s fingers catch your jaw and tilt your head up, and he smiles at the way you lean into the touch, into his praise. “But I want to know how it was, what you did while I was away. I want to know everything.” 

You can’t help but go a little weak in the knees when he gets like this. The dominant air about him is intoxicating and every ounce of your being aches to soften into him, to place yourself into the capable hands of your Javi. He’s just so good. Such a good man, a good husband. He loves pampering you and supporting each of your endeavors, no matter how big or small they might be. The balance is soothing. The equal meeting of needs, soothing of souls. A complementary give and take that leaves you both fulfilled and cared for.

“Well, I finally tidied your office while you couldn’t hover about it. I reread In Praise of Folly for the hundredth time. I tried some new recipes… not all of them were good, but you’ll love the roast I made. It’s warming in the oven, by the way.” You tick down the list, humming contemplatively as you think back over the last two weeks. “Oh, I got a mani-pedi.” 

“Oh, let me see them.” An appreciative hum falls from his lips at the dark polish coating your fingernails. His thumb brushes over them thoughtfully, a little smile on his face. Maybe it's weird, but he’s always loved this; providing for you, letting you use the money he earns to do nice little things for yourself. “Pretty. I like the color.” 

“Thank you, honey.” You sing-song. 

Javier kisses your knuckles. “Go on. I want to hear more.” 

“Let’s see, what else… oh, and I got something for you, too.” A mischievous tone threads into your voice, one he knows all too well. Your teeth nip at your soft bottom lip as you flutter those eyelashes at him - and he knows he’s fucked in the best possible way. Your fingers trail down your sternum, teasing the robe open just enough to expose a hint of white fabric beneath it. White lacy fabric.

 Oh, fuck. 

You slowly untie the robe and let the black fabric slip down your shoulders, a stark contrast to the pure white lingerie you hid away beneath. The lacy chemise hugs the cinch of your waist and flares out slightly at your hips, accentuating the curves of your body that make his mind race. It’s new. You went out and bought something brand new and sexy just for the moment he came home to you, and it does something to him he can’t quite describe. The fabric is so thin and delicate, and he can see everything; the obvious lack of underwear, the imprint of your nipples, every inch of the gorgeous woman he missed so much. Your warmth radiates into his palm as his hand follows the line of your waste and settles on your hip. 

“Oh, look at you…” Javier’s voice is threaded with wonder and he can feel you shiver beneath his touch. He squeezes your hip, careful not to tear the fragile fabric. “My pretty little wife, all wrapped up like a present for me.” 

There’s no mistaking the undercurrent of desire that rumbles low in his voice, beneath the praise and appreciation. You lean into his touch, your shoulders subtly pushed back to give him the perfect view of your breasts. Something hungry and aching cleaves through his chest at the glimmer in your eyes. He knows what you want, what you need. He can read your body like the well-worn edges of a beloved novel. Reading familiar lines time and time again, only to feel that same surge of emotion: the love, the awe, the comfort. 

No matter how many times he gets to hold you like this, see you like this - Javier can never get enough. 

There is a fragile balancing act that hovers in the air between you in moments like these. You gaze up at him with that demure heat burning in your eyes, a hint of a coy smile tugging at your lips. He stalks after you slowly as you lure him into the makeshift bed of pillows and blankets layered out in front of the fireplace. The flames send heat licking up the bare skin exposed by the slow work of his fingers unbuttoning his shirt. You reach for him, your gaze roving over his chest with an obvious hunger, an appreciation that still has his breath catching in his throat after all this time. Your fingertips brush his stomach as you slowly undo his belt and unbutton his jeans. 

It isn’t until you teasingly rub his cock through his briefs that the fragile balancing act finally tips and shatters. Javier surges forward and captures your lips in a rough, desperate kiss, his hands fumbling to strip away the last of his clothes. He drags you down onto the floor, drinks in the surprised giggle his manhandling brings out of you. The amusement doesn’t last long. Not when his teeth drag along that sensitive spot on your neck and his fingers find their way between your thighs. 

Javier’s presence is all-consuming, evokes a pure reverence that sucks the very air from your lungs. He brings out something base in you, something that runs on pure animal instinct and lust - and he isn’t any better off. There’s a wild light in his eyes as he drinks in the sight of you beneath him, all wrapped in lace and eager for his touch. He rucks the chemise up and out of his way, and his self-control nearly snaps over how wet you already are. He has barely laid a finger on you, yet you glisten in the low light of the fireplace. So eager. So ready. 

The muscle in his jaw jumps with the clenching of his teeth. Nearly two weeks without the feeling of your wetness on his fingers and the heat of your pussy fluttering around his fingers - never again. He swears he’s addicted to your body. He practically went through withdrawals without having your slick cunt to bury his face in. His fingers curl up into that sweet spot harshly and you gasp his name, your thighs closing around his wrist. 

“No, open up for me.” Javier rasps, his voice rough and demanding. He’s too impatient, too strong; his other hand wrenches your thighs back open before you can even obey him. He plants his hand firmly on your inner thigh to keep you nice and spread out for him. “That’s it, let me feel you, honey. I missed this perfect fuckin’ cunt.” 

The pad of his thumb rubs a light, teasing circle against your clit, and the harsh contrast from the rough thrust of his fingers makes you tremble. You whimper his name but Javier can’t draw his gaze away from your body, from the sight of his fingers sinking inside of you or the shift of your breasts with every harsh breath. He can’t stop himself from leaning over and kissing your sternum before trailing his lips over to tease your nipple through the thin fabric. His tongue is hot against your sensitive skin. Your spine curves, arching to chase his touch, and your fingers grasp the soft hair at the back of his head. 

 Curses and begs fall from your lips in a broken mess of sentences, each plea bleeding into the next as you beg him to just take you already. Those cries pry at his willpower, at the rationality that still holds his actions captive. The rampant desire that sings in his veins doesn’t distract him from his tenacity as a thorough lover. He wants you nice and ready for him, all warmed up and soaked from his talented fingers. 

He shakes his head hesitantly. “I should… I should get you ready, sweetheart. Don’t wanna hurt you.” 

You huff a frustrated sound. Before he can tease you for being so desperate, your hand blindly feels around the mess of bedding until you produce a familiar clear bottle - the lube he usually keeps stashed inside his bedside table. He shakes his head with a disbelieving grin as he snags the bottle from your hand. Of course, you would be so prepared. He wasn’t the only one going crazy without his other half.  You have been wanting after him just as much as he has - if not more. 

Javier doesn’t bother wasting any more time. The shock of cold lube is quickly erased by the heated glide of his cock along your pussy and you moan his name. The sound sets his jaw on edge, sends sparks of possessive desire arcing up his spine. Those pretty brown eyes meet yours as his cock nudges your entrance and he can see his own desperation mirrored in your face. It’s all the fuel he needs to finally sink into your cunt in one fluid thrust. 

He can make time for teasing later - once the basic need to take and fuck and claim has retracted its claws from his skin. 

The harsh bite of your nails into his skin makes him hiss and thrust into you sharply, a pleasurable punishment that you take beautifully. Your thighs just tighten around his hips and rock into his thrusts, and Javier is reminded for the millionth time just how much he loves you. He doesn’t let up. Every thrust jolts through your entire body. The only thing that keeps you from sliding up in the blankets is the bruising grip of his hands on your hips. An even, steady rhythm that leaves your mind hazy and drunk on him. Javier watches, attention rapt as your lashes flutter and your hands twist the blankets in a vain attempt to steady yourself. You should know by now that he won’t give you the opportunity to gather yourself. No, he wants to see you in a fucked out daze. He watches the flash of surprise across your face at the grind of his cock against your g-spot. Even as you whimper and writhe and tighten around him, he can’t take his eyes off of you. 

He just can’t get enough. He needs more. 

His thumb finds your clit with practiced ease and you tighten around him so fiercely that he damn near spills inside of you right then and there. It’s been too long. His stamina is all shot to hell. Every quiver of your cunt, every tremble of your thighs, every wrecked sound you give him - he’s consumed by you. Left feral in the heaven of your body. 

“Just like that… fuck, you feel so good…” The honeyed praise sweeps through him, has him slipping onto his forearm just to feel you closer. His forearms bear his weight as his face buries in the crook of your neck. The change in position is slight, but it sends your back arching up into him nonetheless. It’s all too much, too good - the kind of sex where you just can’t get close enough, can’t feel enough of your lover’s skin against your own. Rushed and messy and so full of love that it almost hurts. You hold him close as he fucks you senseless, one hand buried in his hair and the other anchored at the back of his neck. “Oh my god.” 

Pride burns hot in his chest. He knows that sound, that tone. All high and whiny and begging so pretty. You’re close - he can feel it in the short, rapid pulses around his cock, the sweet beckon of your body asking so sweetly for just a little more to push you over that edge. You deserve it -  his beautiful little housewife, keeping the fires burning at home, being his safe haven in this crazy, fucked up world. You have him wrapped around your finger and there isn’t a single place in the world he would rather be. 

Every stroke of his thumb against your clit sends shockwaves through you, forces those rough, high-pitched sounds from your throat, and Javier loves it. He leans back just enough to get his eyes on you, his nose brushing yours as those bright eyes consume you. This is his favorite way to see you - expression twisted with pleasure, skin slick with sweat, unencumbered by self-consciousness. Just you and him and the filthy, slick sound of sex in the air. 

“You’re close, aren’t you sweetheart?” Javier murmurs when he feels your fingers tighten in his hair, sees that familiar flash in your dazed eyes. His teeth nip your jaw teasingly - he just can’t help himself, even when you make a disgruntled little sound in response. He just rubs your clit faster and you melt for him all over again, your cunt tightening so harshly that he hisses your name out through grit teeth. “That’s it, that’s my girl. Fuckin’ come for me, come all over my cock.” 

You do. You break for him with a strangled sound and Javier doesn’t stop. He couldn’t even if he wanted, even if you begged. He watches, awed at the sight of those tears finally spilling from your pretty eyes as you writhe and shudder beneath him. Your soft sounds of pleasure soothe those maddening instincts, the ones that first reared the moment he became your husband. It vibrates low through every atom of his being, rumbling in his chest in a pleased hum. He draws out your pleasure just to hear more of those lovely little sounds, all high and delicate. You blink up at him through dazed eyes and you smile, adoring and purely intoxicated. 

Javier kisses you softly, drinks in the happy hum from your lips. A sweet lull in the neediness, a moment to take you in like this. Warm and happy and fucked out in his arms. Your lips are soft against the stubble on his cheek, a stark contrast to the teasing nip of your teeth against his jaw. Javier looks down at you, an eyebrow raised as he takes in the glint of mischief in your eyes. Neither of you needs to say it. He knows exactly what you want by the look on your face and the light smack you give his thigh. 

And he’s more than happy to give it to you. 

His spine straightens as he yanks you down by your thighs. Javier pins you with his hands on your hips and fucks you deeper, his cock hitting so deep that your lungs damn near collapse. Your eyes roll and that dark, possessive fire sparks in his chest. There’s nothing he loves more than taking you apart with soft, tender touches - but this… this is a close second. Holding you down, keeping you in place so you have no choice but to let him take, take, take. 

“Fuck.” You whine, clawing at the blankets as the stimulation wrenches through you, overwhelms each of your senses until you’re left trembling. Every plunge sends you reeling, but you can’t help yourself - your hips lift to take him deeper, your knees dig into his ribs, your nails bite into the back of his neck. You take him beautifully - like you were made for him. Made to be his wife, to be fucked on the living room floor next to a blazing fireplace. Made to be his. 

All his, forever.

A rough sound grits out through his clenched teeth as he comes deep, his moan breaking with the last of his last sharp thrusts. Your cunt pulses around him rhythmically, only serving to draw out his pleasure until he’s trembling above you. Javier lets you coax him to melt into you, his hips still fitted seamlessly with yours as he lets his full weight sink into you. Your arms wrap around his shoulders. You just hold him as his breathing slowly returns to normal, as his softening cock slowly slips out of you. It’s calm. Peaceful. 

He has no idea how long has passed when he finally heaves himself off of you. It doesn’t take you long to tuck yourself into his side. Your body molds to fit his; your thigh hitched over his, your cheek resting on his shoulder, arm slung over his chest. Javier curls his arm around your side and traces the intricate patterns in the lace over your ribs, even as you squirm away from the ticklish touch. 

“Javi, stop…” You whine, propping your chin up on his chest to give him those puppy dog eyes. 

“No,” He sighs nonchalantly. It isn’t easy to resist that cute pout of yours. “Can’t keep my hands off you, baby. Missed you too much.” 

That melts your resolve. Your gaze softens so much that he damn near chokes. He isn’t a bashful man by any means but the way you look at him as if he hung the moon and stars in your sky… he can’t help the pink tinge that blooms across his cheeks. You’ve softened him over the years. Kneaded at him until he became tender and pliant, and maybe a bit of a romantic. Javier brushes your hair out of your face and the back of his fingers caresses your cheek slowly. 

“You hungry?” He murmurs. That urge to take care of you is never quite sated. Now that you’re well fucked, he plans on making sure you’re well-fed, too. 

“Mm, I could eat.” You shrug. 

“Stay here, I’ll bring you a plate.” Javier gives you a quick smack on your ass before dragging himself to his feet. He can feel your eyes on him as he stretches, all too aware of your appreciative gaze on his naked body. He calls out as he makes his way into the kitchen, “Then I’m having you for dessert.” 

The sound of your laughter brings a smile to his face as he sets about making plates for the both of you. He couldn’t imagine a better life, something he would want more than this. Good food, a beautiful home, and most importantly - his amazing wife.

[lavendertales]

Blood on the dancefloor—Javier Peña x f!reader

Chapter 10 of the Unholy series

summary: Javier still struggles with the secret he’s been holding. But when you call him and ask for his help, he can’t help but do so in an evening that goes south very fast.

word count: 5.2k

warnings: ANGST; character death, blood, panic attack, also soft!Javi, a surprise twist at the end.

gif: @joseph-quinns 

series masterlist | AO3

He shouldn’t have done that. He should not have done that.

And you certainly should not have done that.

But you wanted to. You wanted to get down on your knees before him and please him just as he had pleased you in that very same room, in the very same sinful manner.

Javier was weak. In that moment, vulnerable and exposed, he was at his weakest. Every glare of yours, as well as every touch or word, made him weak, raising an inexplicable craving within that required him to be around you at all times.

Yeah, this was no means to an end. Javier cared about you. Deeply.

I’m so fucking screwed.

The realization could not have come at a worse time. What the hell is he supposed to do now? How is he supposed to break the news to you when there’s more than rivalry involved? Now that he knows there are feelings in the middle, how the hell can he explain to you the truth about what happened to your father and that he cares for you?

He knows you won’t believe him. At least that second part won’t be believable for sure. Then again, you probably won’t believe a word that comes out of his mouth regarding those two topics.

Yeah, I am royally screwed.

So by the time the weekend arrives and he has to get ready for the undercover raid, he’s more exhausted than ever. He does the motions robotically, putting no sentiment or determination into them.

“Here’s the plan,” Carrillo says out loud to the team. “Trujillo and I will be inside with the ladies, observing in the background. “Peña and Murphy will be here, listening in to the operation. Remember, our goal is to catch Blackie and his group alive. Nobody intervenes unless absolutely necessary. Be careful. There is nothing these guys won’t do to make it out alive.”

Javier quickly glances at you making sure your vest is properly strapped to your body underneath the jacket, and gulps. He doesn’t like sitting idly by, but orders are orders, and he just doesn’t have the strength to argue against anything in that moment.

“Everything okay, Javi?”

He’s surprised to see Sofia addressing him directly, and so cutely too. He musters enough courage to look at her and nod carelessly.

“You sure? You don’t look so well.”

“Tired.”

“Ah. Of course.”

He sees you flash a brief smile at him in the background, and his knees nearly go out on him. He takes a deep breath, which does nothing to soothe his nerves, and sees Sofia inspecting him up close.

“I guess you’re used to being in the middle of the action huh,” she smiles.

“What can you do? Gotta follow the plan.”

She gets ready to leave, but then Javier finds he’s somehow not in control of his own bodily motions anymore.

“Have you ever had a big, dark secret that just… eats you alive? And you know you have to get rid of it, but you don’t know how?”

Wordless, Sofia stares at Javier, a sudden memory hitting her.

“Kind of,” she admits, curious as to where he’s headed with that. “Is it something that you know it’s bad, but also makes you feel the best you’ve ever felt?”

Javier frowns. “A couple of weeks ago, I would’ve said yes, but now the secret turned kinda grim.”

“Does it have anything to do with a certain female agent?”

She raises her brows suggestively, eyes following your figure around the office, and Javier gulps. He doesn’t do any gesture, nor does he say any word about it.

But Sofia is very receptive, more than she gets credit for.

“I see,” she concludes. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

“I didn’t say—that’s not what I—meant.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything about it. I can tell.”

“You can tell? What do you mean you can tell?”

Sofia giggles, inching closer to him so that no one gets to hear this less-than-official conversation ensuing between them.

“I kinda thought something was going on between you two,” she confesses. “The glares, the need to prove to each other who’s the best… but let’s be honest, you’re actually dying to prove to each other the positive influence you have on one another.”

Javier’s frowns deepens, failing to understand Sofia’s point of view.

“Why would I compete with someone just to show them how much better they make me?”

“Alright, let’s get a move on!” Carrillo shouts.

On the verge of leaving, Sofia can’t help but throw in one last line.

“Didn’t you notice that you run by her every single thing that you do? And that she does the same? Kinda like you’re dying to let each other know about your day, or kinda like you want to spend all your time around each other…?”

He’s not an idiot; he figured out that his care for you runs deeper than he would’ve ever considered possible, but to hear it from someone else hits like a hammer at the back of his head.

He watches the team take off as Sofia gently pats him on the shoulder, and he feels utterly disarmed. He can’t help but remain guilty even at the slightest glimpse of you, willing to do the right thing and come clean to you.

He just has to find the right moment.

But when is the right moment when each minute could be your last?

“Here,” Steve awakens him from his daydream and hands him a pair of headphones.

“Thanks.”

Steve takes immediate notice of Javier’s grumpiness, but he doesn’t bring it up this time around. Plenty were the times when he pushed too hard and it only resulted in more anguish and rage. So now, Steve decides it’s best to treat Javier like a deer in the wilderness: you have to let it come to you.

“How’s Connie?” Javier asks, setting up the equipment.

“Good, good. Safe and sound.”

“Good.”

The momentary lack of conversation puts even more pressure on Javier. Usually he’s not the most talkative guy in the world, but this information he’s holding onto is too big to handle on his own. Of course, he won’t start blabbing around the office about it, but he knows he can confide in Steve.

“If I had something important to tell you about someone you love, say… Connie, would you want me to tell you?”

Still a tad preoccupied, Steve stares at the monitor as he rummages the question.

“Do you have something important to tell me about Connie?” Steve then asks.

“No, that’s not—you missed the point.”

“Fine, then get to it, straightforward.”

Javier huffs and rolls his eyes, a trademark sign of his frustration.

“Nevermind,” he says.

“No, come on, say what you wanna say, man.”

With a deep breath, Javier shifts his attention back to him, a little hesitant now that he has the chance to speak up.

“So if I had important intel about someone you care about, something that you actually do want to know… would you wanna hear it from me?”

Steve ponders over the question, analyzing it from every point of view.

“Well, if I want to have that information and you have it, then… yeah, I’d want to hear it from you.”

“Even if we’re not friends?”

Though confused, Steve doesn’t yet require more details. “Yeah. As long as you mean well, I don’t see why not.”

“And even if that information will potentially destroy you and make you hate me?”

Okay, maybe now is the time to ask for more details.

“Jav, what did you do?” he asks, slightly concerned.

“Don’t ask.”

“Ah, so it’s about a woman.”

“Not everything is about that.”

“Not for most people.”

Boy, he resents that affirmation. More so because it’s factually true. Even in the middle of the war on drugs, Javier’s existence seems to revolve around a woman.

But not just any woman.

“I did something bad, okay?” he nearly lashes out. “And I didn’t even know it was bad till recently.”

“Huh. Something bad that might piss off a woman… did you sleep with her best friend?”

God he wishes that would be the worst case scenario.

“No,” Javier replies, mildly annoyed.

“Knocked her up?”

“No! Fucking hell, just stop guessing.”

“C’mon, I’m just teasing you. What’s really going on?”

He shouldn’t say it. It’s not his story to share. But then again, Steve did mention it to him first, so he wouldn’t be breaking any rules technically.

But he still can’t say it.

“I can’t tell you,” Javier says. “It’s classified.”

“Oh! Now I get it.”

Javier’s attention is solely on Steve now, afraid that he might’ve been too transparent with all of his questions.

“It is about a woman, but it’s not one of your lady friends from downtown, isn’t it?”

As much as Javier dislikes his cocky tone, he can’t argue against something that’s factual.

“You got it bad, my man,” Steve tries not to laugh.

“Shut up. Are you getting any service on this thing?”

“Hang on… try now.”

Javier went completely mute after that. In spite of all the follow-up questions Steve posed, Javier wouldn’t budge. He couldn’t bear talking about you anymore, not when his own head still required clarifications.

So he welcomes silence like an old friend.

The two men stared at the monitor for what felt like eternity. Once in a while, one of them would ask something like “Do you want some coffee?” to which the other would respond slyly, “Not unless it’s whiskey,” then share an exhausted giggle.

But Javier’s mind remained restless as it still thought of you. Whenever he thinks of you now, there is undeniable guilt attached to your figure, and it eats him alive. More and more, with each passing day, the secret devours him, swallows him whole. He knows he has to tell you, he’s not that much of an idiot. But he cannot seem to find the right time. His last attempt didn’t turn out so good.

Actually, it turned out spectacular if you think in terms of pleasure. But to Javier, it felt like he had somehow taken advantage of you. It’s not true, a tiny voice told him, but it did not help soothe his nerves. Especially when he thought back to Sofia’s words earlier that day.

Didn’t you notice that you run by her every single thing that you do? And that she does the same?

Kinda like you’re dying to let each other know about your day, or kinda like you want to spend all your time around each other…?

The only thing missing from that conversation is Sofia smacking him across the head and actually telling him that he cares for you.

Which… he does. He knows he does. There’s no other reasonable explanation. He cares for you. But his growing affection for you poses a number of risks: starting with the loss of your jobs and the imminent danger of your lives ending, the risk of losing you to that secret seems the most pressing matter to Javier.

It kills him to think that you might truly despise him after hearing what he has to say.

But he has to tell you. Even if it will hurt, even if means it’s the end for anything that could happen between you two. He will tell you the truth about your father.

The phone rings, and Javier picks it up mindlessly.

“Peña,” he says.

When he hears your voice, he shifts in his chair, straightens his back and listens closely.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

You falter. He can hear your breathing on the other line, and it’s making his stomach twist and turn in unimaginable ways. His gut tells him something’s not going according to the plan.

“So far, so good,” you say after a little while.

“Then why did you call?”

Again you falter, and Javier grows more unsteady. He says your name firmly, trying not to give away his increasing concern.

“I don’t know, something feels off,” you reply. “We might need backup.”

“Keep your position. Murphy and I can send the—“

“No, listen. Whatever armed guys you’ll send here, they might not be able to get in, and definitely not without permission, so it’ll be useless.”

“Then we’ll come.”

There’s silence, and Javier’s stomach drops completely. He calls your name again, and he exhales as he hears your shaky breath.

“How fast can you get here?” you ask.

“Fifteen minutes.”

“Make it ten.”

“Done.”

“I’m counting on you, Javier.”

His stomach disappears altogether; he gulps, foolishly nodding like you could see him do so, and he hangs up.

“What happened?” Steve asks.

“Nothing yet, but apparently things are going a little too well.”

Steve frowns, and Javier is quick to clarify, “When did things ever go smoothly around here?”

He then of course realizes that it was almost never the case. Silence in high stake missions was not good. And certainly not at a club.

So the two grab their gear, strapping their bullet vests to their chests, and get in the car with not a single word exchanged in between them. And it’s better this way.

Javier. You said his name. Not Peña, not Grumpy, not some ugly name-calling. You said Javier.

I’m counting on you, Javier.

He heard it clearly. This time he really heard it, not like that time you moaned his name and he had to do everything in his power to pretend like he hadn’t heard it, or that it burned through him faster than anything else.

He chooses to focus on that on the speedy drive to the club. Any other potential scenario he makes might just ruin his focus, so the gentle, yet firm mention of his name coming from your sweet mouth is what he chooses.

“Did she say anything specific?” Steve asks as they’re getting out of the car, parked conveniently down the street for extra security.

“She said she has a bad feeling.”

“That’s it? We can’t blow the mission based on instinct.”

Javier freezes in place, glaring at his partner in the coldest, most serious way.

“She’s got impeccable instincts. She never failed. If she says something feels off, then something’s off.”

Steve grabs his arm, trying to steady him.

“Look, I get your history with her and this rivalry thing, but this isn’t the time to let your feelings cloud your judgment, Jav.”

Javier wiggles his arm free from the grip, the same cold look on his face now radiating anger as well. “It’s not about that. But I know her. Trust me. Trust her. We need to be here.”

Steve finally concedes, and silently follows Javier inside. They walk carefully by the entrance, inspecting the territory. Nothing out of the ordinary seems to be going on. The music is booming from inside, and the people dance and drink carelessly. The pair of agents decides to find a way through the back for a swifter entrance.

Though his heart is pounding in his ears, Javier moves steadily. He knows this dance, he’s done it thousands of times already. Yet he can’t help but think of you on the inside along with Sofia, Carrillo and Trujillo.

“Javi,” Steve calls out in a whisper.

He forces the knob of a seemingly rusty door in the back, and to both their surprise, it works. They enter warily, guns concealed so as to not create any panic. The music gets louder and louder, the lights more colorful and playful, and the smell of cigarettes stronger. Javier’s eyes scan the crowd, but it’s Steve who manages to locate Sofia first, sitting at a secluded table with Trujillo, and you and Carrillo on the dance floor.

Javier watches you dance with the Colonel, admiring your moves, the way your body sways naturally to the music. He sees the Colonel’s grip over your waist and hand, and he gulps. Luckily you don’t take notice of him, but you do seem engaged in a conversation with Carrillo, your faces in a much too close proximity for his own taste.

He shakes his head briefly, willing to snap out of that mood. It’s not the time or place for this shit, Peña.

Unbeknownst to him, Carrillo does notice the two agents in the background, but does nothing to reveal that. Instead, he looks at you almost as if demanding an explanation. He spins you around and brings you back to his chest, then glares at you.

“Peña and Murphy are here,” he tells you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you finally see them, and your heart jumps in your throat, your hands suddenly going cold.

“They should be on surveillance,” Carrillo continues.

“Backup couldn’t hurt, right, Colonel? Just in case.”

His glare is questioning you somberly, but you maintain your tough stance, even as your eyes follow Javier in the background.

“You and Peña have a complicated relationship, it seems,” Carrillo remarks. “Rivals by default, but you cannot stay away from each other.”

Your attention draws back to the Colonel, a frown creasing your brows and forehead. “We work together.”

He shakes his head, a little smile breaking from his lips.

“You call, he answers. He calls, you answer. This dance you’re doing around each other, it’s not rivalry. It’s not something I’d do with someone I pretend to be in competition with.”

“There’s no pretending. We do compete with each other, we—“

You lose your train of thought as your eyes lock with Javier’s in the distance. You blink a few times, partially from the smoke stinging your eyes, but also to make sure he’s still there. Oddly enough, his presence brings you unknown comfort.

“Peña cannot function unless you’re there,” Carrillo clarifies. “I’ve known him for over two years, and I have never seen him work so hard only to impress someone.”

Your confusion persists. “Why would he want to impress me?”

Carrillo smiles widely, spinning you again and then leaning in to whisper, “Why does any man want to impress a woman?”

You remain silent when faced with the realization.

“His feelings are a big part of the reason why he’s here tonight,” he adds.

“We might need backup.”

“We might. But as I said before, you call, and he answers.”

The Colonel’s sympathetic smile emanates pity, and you dislike it so much, but you can’t fight it. Your eyes find Javier again, noticing he’s moving through the crowd to get to you. Your hand still in Carrillo’s, you freeze the second you hear the first gunshot.

Then the second.

Carrillo’s body acts as shield, so you do not need to duck, not right now. You see the team alert, taking their guns out, and some people dropping dead around them. The music remains booming, almost covering the sounds, but not that effectively. Soon, people start to realize there are dead people on the dance floor, and panic emerges.

You remain lightly pressed against Carrillo, and you only begin to break away from him when you see Blackie pointing his gun at the back of his head.

“Greetings from Pablo,” he says, and his voice is dark and manic in a sense. You can tell, now that the music had stopped.

Another gunshot, followed by a fourth one. You scan your surroundings and see Javier pointing his gun, and Blackie falling down to the ground. You split from Carrillo, and his body collapses to the floor as well. Horror is imprinted on your face when you remark all the blood on your clothes, and the blood on Carrillo.

More gunshots ensue, and Javier speeds to you, wrapping his arms around you and concealing you both under a table. Mouth ajar, you glare at the Colonel’s lifeless body on the floor, people trampling him or falling next to him. Javier tries to bring you back to reality, but you’re too much in shock to acknowledge the hell that just broke loose.

“Hey, hey! Look at me!”

Javier’s voice is harsh and loud, but it’s exactly what you need right now. You stare at him in a trance, glancing at your bloody chest and arms.

“You came,” you say somewhat out of it.

“You called.”

His reply is something along the lines of “what else was I supposed to do?” and the Colonel’s last words pound in your ears. You call, he answers.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, inspecting you however he can from that crouched position.

When you fail to respond, he grabs your arms and shakes you slightly. He needs you alert and present, and you know it, but you can’t seem to get out of that shock.

“Are you hurt?!” he exclaims. “Did they get you?! Tell me.”

“No. No, I’m—I’m alive.”

You feel like crying, but you fight back the tears. You cannot break, not now when there’s gun fires and madness all around you.

“Escobar’s outside!” you hear Steve yell.

Javier stands from under the table, extending a hand to help you as well, and he takes your hand into his immediately after.

“Go, go get him,” Javier rushes his partner.

Steve glances at your bloody clothes and your pale face, seeing the shock radiating from your body, and then looks back at Javier.

“Just go!” Javier screams, and Steve follows suit.

You look around the place. What was a happy, carefree space five minutes ago, now is a murder scene. At least a dozen bodies lie on the ground, glass broken everywhere, smoke and pain. You cannot help but stare at the Colonel’s lifeless body, the crushing urge to cry overcoming you. Then you notice Blackie’s body in his vicinity, and you shudder.

Javier takes notice, and wraps his arms around you again. You welcome the embrace, trembling with many emotions all at once.

“You should go with Murphy—and the rest. If Escobar’s out there—“

“They’ll either get him or he’ll be still out there tomorrow. What’s the rush?”

You look up at him, the tears blurring your vision a little. Javier holds you tighter, helping you make your way through the mess.

“I got a phone in the car,” Javier says. “I should… call the embassy, let them know about Carrillo.”

“Yeah.”

You’re a walking zombie at this point, even if Javier holds you close to him. You keep replaying the moment Carrillo’s life tragically ended right there in your arms over and over, remembering your clothes and skin are tainted with his blood while Javier is on the phone, updating Wysession and the new ambassador, Claudia Messina, on the situation. His glare never leaves you, wishing the official conversation would just end already so he could focus on what’s important at the time.

He mentions the ambush, mentions Carrillo’s shocking death, the chase for Escobar going on as they speak, and how he needs to make sure you get home safe, since you got the short stick of it that evening.

“You know… you’re taught in school in biology class how much blood the human body has,” you say in a hollow voice after Javier is done talking on the phone. “One point five gallons max, ten units to be precise. But you don’t realize how much that is until you have someone’s blood on you.”

Javier listens to you speak absentmindedly, visibly shaken by the events. He sucks in a deep breath, moving towards you carefully, as if somehow afraid to not scare you.

“Let me drive you home,” he says.

You look at him with blank eyes, your whole body cold.

“I’ll drive you home, help you clean out your clothes and get you into bed.”

“You’d do that?”

You call, he answers.

“Today’s been a lot,” he says. “You shouldn’t be alone. If you want me around, of course.”

Without you realizing, you’re the one who wraps their arms around his torso, thus pulling him into a warm, tight hug. Though surprised, Javier reciprocates and holds you as close as humanly possible to his chest. He’s aware that he blood on your clothes is tainting his own, but he couldn’t care less about it right now.

He’s aware he’s been perhaps a little reckless in terms of professionalism, but he couldn’t help it. Not when he saw you dancing with Carrillo, quite literally dancing with a dead body for a few good seconds before awareness kicked in.

Without further ado, Javier gets you in the car and he starts driving. He puts some music, just to have something distracting you both, or at least maintain your feet on the ground, rooted in reality. A cruel one at that.

Whenever you look down at your hands and see the blood on them that’s starting to dry out, you start to shake. Luckily, you’re in the parking lot of your building and you can soon get into your bed.

All your moves are subconscious, mechanic. Javier remains by your side, guiding you inside the building, opening the door to your apartment. He only hesitates when he sees you undress, unsure how to act. Usually in this situation, he knows exactly what to do and what’s about to happen, but now, given the circumstances, Javier has no clue how to act. He’s seen you naked before, so shying away isn’t believable. But also staring at you while you undress seems coy, so he can’t do that either.

Eventually, he remains frozen in the living room as you approach him in your underwear, reminding him that his clothes are slightly bloody as well. So he mindlessly removes the bullet vest and the shirt underneath, followed by his pants and boxers. Hand in hand, you both head to the shower, taking turns in scrubbing the blood and exhaustion off each other. For the first time, there is nothing inherently sexual about the moment. On the contrary, it feels intimate, a private display of care.

Javier is not sure how or when, but you end up cuddling at his chest while the water runs down your naked bodies. He holds you close once again, stroking your wet hair and hoping his presence somehow coaxes you.

He knows yours does.

After a while, when you’re both wrapped in towels and your clothes are in the washing machine, you get under the covers, and you cuddle up to him. Javier allows it; he allows your body to use his as a heater. He’d let you use him however you want, truth be told. Whatever you need, he’ll provide you with.

And right now, in this moment, he’ll provide you with comfort if that’s what you need.

“Is it okay if I spend the night?” he asks, somewhat afraid.

You shift slightly so you can look at him better, a light smile on your face.

“Yes,” you agree. “Thank you, by the way.”

“For what?”

“For… coming. For being here.”

He notices the breakage in your voice as you thank him, and he moves so that he can look better at you too.

“You called,” he says. “You said you’re counting on me, so I—“

He momentarily forgets all the guilt and shame he carries in his heart. He only sees your beautiful face regaining its color, fresh out of the shower, though still shaken up.

“And you didn’t let me down,” you respond. “Thank you.”

“I just did what anyone would’ve done.”

You call, he answers.

“Not everyone,” you say.

Slowly, you move back closer to him and lightly press a chaste kiss on his lips. It’s all you’re capable of mustering at the moment, and Javier understands completely. He doesn’t push for more, nor does he want to. He just wants to hold you, remain locked in that moment forever as an escape from the pain and the guilt that will inevitably consume him again tomorrow.

Suddenly, he hears you wheezing. He looks down at you and sees you struggling to breathe, and he returns to his alerted state, realizing you’re probably having a panic attack.

No words come out of his mouth as he takes your hand and places it on his chest. “Do you feel that?” he asks you.

You only look at him somewhat shaken. Javier strives to get an answer.

“Do you feel my heart beating?”

“Yes,” you reply.

“That means I’m alive. I’m here, and I’m alive.”

He proceeds to put his hand on your chest, gently touching the skin.

“I can feel your heart beating too, which means you are also alive. You survived. And you’ll keep doing it like the stubborn, cocky person I know you are.”

The statement manages to steal a chuckle out of you, though laughing was the last thing you would’ve envisioned yourself doing that evening.

“Thank you,” you say fondly. “Your heart’s beating pretty fast though. I guess tonight was a lot for us all.”

Javier swallows harshly, barely managing to do so. “Yeah, that’s why.”

“I know this must be way out of your comfort zone so you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t have anywhere else to be. Besides, if I’m gonna lose sleep, I might as well be here with you.”

You smile again, though it’s nothing short of sadness and guilt and shock.

“Plus, I got no clothes to put on and I don’t feel like driving around Bogota naked.”

You giggle, nuzzling up to him and hoping you could somehow fall asleep.

“I still don’t like you, best remember that,” you tease him.

Javier exhales through a smile, surprising himself with that. “That’s too bad, cause I love you.”

Silence installs itself between you two, followed swiftly by a shock wave. When you look at Javier, he seems too dumbfounded by his own words to react in any way. You are just as much, but you still have some sense in you to ask follow-up questions because… what the fuck was that?

Javier then clears his throat, avoiding your eyes. He shifts further away from you, though he doesn’t get out of bed.

“Javier, I—“

“Get some sleep, okay?”

He turns to the other side, avoiding you altogether. You suddenly ache to see his face, to try and figure out whatever is going on inside his head that prompted such a shocking and unexpected confession.

It doesn’t help that it’s the second time you’ve said his first name in the same day, causing a tsunami of emotions inside of him whilst doing so.

“I wanted to say—“

“Nothing. You should try to get some sleep.”

He doesn’t leave you any wiggle room for questions or additional statements. But you don’t have the energy to fight him on it, so you turn to your respective side and go over the entire evening’s events, and the moments that led to the previous one.

Sometime during the night, when you hear the faint exhale of Javier’s breath and you figure he fell asleep, you turn towards him, still wide awake. You’ve never felt warmer and safer in your life, and there’s no room for anger in your heart anymore. You ponder whether it was truly ever anger.

“I love you too,” you murmur, and finally close your eyes.

previous | next 

[littlemisspascal]

Mailroom Crush Part 6

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

Word Count: 3500+

Summary: A story about Reader who works in the mailroom of the embassy and her encounters with a handsome, brown-eyed DEA agent.

Warnings: Language, fluff, angst, making out, anxious Reader, consumption of grilled cheese sandwiches and alcohol, Spanish translation at the end, this is only loosely based on canon of Season 3 so the timeline does not 100% match the show’s

Author Note: Thank you everybody for your amazing support and encouragement! I appreciate every word and I hope y’all enjoy this segment 💝

PART 5 | PART 7

It’s a typical, unnoteworthy Wednesday when Javier decides to surprise you by asking you out. You find him leaning against your car when you leave the embassy, looking like a cover model with his tousled hair and form-fitting clothes. The smile that lights up his face when he sees you nearly has you face-planting onto the asphalt, knees going weak when confronted with such heartstopping beauty. 

And then you’re kissing him. You aren’t sure if you leaned in first or if he did—maybe it was a mutual leaning in—resulting in a soft, chaste kiss between a boyfriend and a girlfriend on a cool midsummer evening. 

“I’m taking you out tonight,” Javier says when he pulls away, grabbing ahold of your hand and tangling his fingers with yours. 

This close you can see the spattering of freckles along Javier’s throat, feel the warmth of his breath upon your cheeks. Unable to concentrate, you blink at him dazedly. “What?”

“I’m taking you out tonight,” Javier repeats, the corner of his mouth lifting up. “I know this nice little hole in the wall with the best food in the whole city.”

“Oh,” you say, heart performing a nervous flip in your chest. “You–You mean like a date?”

“Well, I just thought it’d be nice seeing each other outside of the embassy,” he says in a rush, glancing down at his shoes with a frown. “If you’ve already got plans or you just don’t want to then I understand. We—”

“I do want to, Javi,” you interrupt, squeezing his hand. “It’s just…”

He raises an eyebrow when you trail off with a grimace. “What?”

You gesture with your free hand towards your clothes. They’re rumpled from a long day spent speed-walking up and down the embassy corridors trying to locate the ambassador’s staff in order to have them sign an important document, and there’s also a mysterious stain on the hem of your shirt you’re not sure the origins of. God, you must look like a total mess right now.

Javier catches your chin and gently tilts your head up to meet his gaze again. Your breath catches when you see the fondness of his expression, no hint of teasing or impatience. “Tesoro, you’re always beautiful.”

Your lips curl into a bashful smile and your shoulders lose some of their stiffness, but your self-doubt stubbornly persists, refusing to be silenced by a few sweet words. “Javi…”

He tilts his head, gaze roaming across your face in search of something you don’t know. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, mouth opening and closing hesitantly before he finally says, “Do you like grilled cheese?”

Baffled by the subject change, you simply nod your head. 

“My apartment’s about ten minutes from here. Would you…” Javier clears his throat, looking anywhere but your face now. “Would you like to come over and have sandwiches?” A brief pause. “With me?”

Maybe it’s the shy, awkward way in which he asks, or maybe your selfish desire to be different than Javier’s past sexual conquests is clouding your judgement, but either way you can’t help but think he doesn’t invite people over often. The mere idea that you could be the first to see his home, his place of escape outside the hectic world of cartels and political mind games, fills your stomach with a fluttery sensation of excitement. 

You nod again, giddy and so totally gone for this man. “Yes, I would, Javi,” you tell him, leaning forward to press another kiss against his lips. His eyes are half-lidded when you pull away, like he’s just as enamored as you feel, and something pleasantly warm starts weaving itself through your rib cage and around your heart. Love, maybe, but you don’t dare speak its name aloud. 

“Sounds like a perfect first date to me,” you say instead, playfully nudging your nose against his to seal the deal.

That earns you a beaming grin, crow’s feet appearing along the corners of his eyes. “Only the best for my girl.”

~~

You spend the short drive to Javier’s apartment giving yourself a pep talk. “It’s just grilled cheese sandwiches,” you say when braking at a stoplight, tapping your fingers anxiously against the steering wheel. “No more, no less.”

Except…what if it does turn out to be more? It’s been a long time since your last relationship, what if the rules of dating have changed in the interim? Worse, what if Javier is expecting there to be more? And what if he becomes upset when he finds out you’re not ready for more? What if— 

The honking of an impatient driver behind you interrupts your stream of worrisome thoughts. You keep on driving, doing your best to focus on the traffic instead of your racing heartbeat. I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine.

Parking on the street outside of Javier’s apartment, you sit in your car for a long moment, holding onto your keys in a clenched fist so tight you can feel the metallic grooves digging into your palm. You peer out the window, up at the beige and white complex. It’s a nice place, but like most apartment buildings, including your own, it lacks a warm and inviting aura.

You give yourself one last look-over in the mirror, pasting a too-wide smile on your face to conceal your nerves, and then you’re on your way to experience your first date with Javier, praying it doesn’t also turn out to be your last.

~~

Javier’s apartment is the definition of nondescript. There are no photographs on the walls or pinned to the fridge with magnets. No plants in the windowsill or unread mail out on the counter. The furniture looks like it’s been here for years, left behind by the previous occupants. 

You think of your own apartment, of its mismatched assortment of furniture and accessories bought cheaply at shops and street markets. Of your little collection of movies stacked next to the television and pictures of your family members preserved in cute rectangular frames lining the living room wall. A stranger could walk inside your home and leave knowing a dozen facts about your life. The same cannot be said about Javier’s.

Honestly the only clue in the room that gives the impression Javier even lives here is the bookshelf in the corner overstuffed with books on true crime and new methods of criminology. You run your finger over each spine, silently reading the titles while Javier starts preparing to make the sandwiches in the kitchen, humming under his breath. 

You pull out Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood from its place in-between Edwin Sutherland’s Principles of Criminology and the biography of Dr. Edmond Locard, noticing the abundance of dog-eared pages. A quick flip-through reveals several passages highlighted or underlined or sometimes both, confirming your suspicion this is a favorite of Javier’s. You smile to yourself, tucking away the piece of information in the corner of your mind where the rest of the precious details you know about Javier are safely stored. 

Javier’s kitchen is too small for two people to comfortably move around in without bumping into each other with every turn. Upon realizing this, you take a seat on the other side of the bar, idly swinging your legs while watching him generously butter slices of bread. There’s something strangely mesmerizing about watching him wield the knife, scraping at the yellow square until every inch of the bread is thoroughly covered. You wonder how many times he’s done this. If it’s another favorite of his.

“My mamá taught me there was an art to making a grilled cheese sandwich,” Javier explains without pausing his task, as if reading your mind. “I ate them all the time growing up.”

“Could you teach me?” you ask, keeping your voice purposefully light. Rarely does Javier mention his mother and you don’t want to accidentally cross a boundary. “Most attempts I make at cooking turn out looking like charcoal. Give me a head of lettuce and some vegetables though and I can chop you up the best salad of your life.”

Javier glances up at you with a smirk. “Yeah? I might have to take you up on that offer.” You smile back shyly, resting your chin on your palm and listening as he gestures towards the skillet resting on the stovetop behind him, explaining, “Lesson number one, tesoro, is to cook the bread on low heat. You remember that, you’ll be golden.” He snorts, eyes shining with amusement. “Get it? Golden?”

You groan, shaking your head at him. For all his good looks and thoughtful insights, his sense of humor is an ever-changing trait depending on his mood. Sometimes darkly sarcastic while brooding over a cup of coffee, other times lighthearted and punny like the kind of jokes found on the back of sugary cereal boxes. “That was terrible, Javi.”

“I am going to ignore that rude remark,” he says with a sniff, pointing the butterknife at you because he’s ridiculous, “since it’s time for your second lesson.”

He sets down the knife and grabs two bread slices, holding them up in front of you with a wide grin. 

“Thanks,” you say, only a little bit sarcastic, privately thinking he looks like a little boy excited for show and tell at school. “You’re too sweet to me, Javi darling.”

Javier fumbles with one of the bread slices, nearly dropping it on the floor. “O-Of course, tesoro,” he says, voice coming out strangled sounding. He blinks a few times, seeming to regain control of himself. “Now, watch carefully, okay?” 

He lowers one of the pieces of bread onto the skillet butter-side-down. He pulls a slice of cheddar cheese free from its packaging and sets it on top of the bread, waits a few seconds, then places the second piece of bread on top of the cheese. It’s so quiet in the room, you feel like you’re in the middle of a documentary, almost expecting to hear David Attenborough’s voice start narrating Javier’s movements.

When the bread turns a light brown color, he flips the sandwich over with an easy gracefulness you don’t think you could ever mimic. A few minutes later, with both sides golden and the smell of melted cheese filling the air, he slides your sandwich on a plate over the bar.

“Ta-da!” Javier announces, looking proud of his achievement, but your eyes don’t miss how his hands twitch nervously against his sides. “Un sándwich de queso a la parrilla para mi chica.”

“Hmm, lemme get a good look at this.” You teasingly make a show of slowly turning the plate this way and that, observing the sandwich from all angles like a contest judge. It looks far more appetizing than anything you’ve tried to cook, not one hint of burnt texture anywhere to be found, and your mouth can’t help but water in anticipation of eating it. “Well, Mr. Peña, consider me very impressed. I’ll give you an A for presentation.”

“I’m honored.” Javier bows his head humbly before he gestures towards the plate with an impatient look. “Now would you please take a bite and tell me how it tastes before I lose my mind.”

You roll your eyes, but indulge his demand, taking a large bite of the sandwich. The flavor combination of melted cheese, butter, and toasted bread fills your mouth, coating your tastebuds, and you accidentally let slip a low groan as you chew.

“Oh my God,” you say after swallowing, unable to recall eating a better tasting sandwich, and promptly take another, bigger bite. “This is so delicious.”

Of course, with how your cheeks are currently stuffed with food like a chipmunk, your words come out sounding something like thit isso delisus. 

Still, Javier seems to understand purely based on your happy expression and the way you’re scarfing down more bites of the grilled cheese. Some of the tension in his body loosens, a smile blooming on his face, and he says, “Good to hear. Give me ten minutes to make a few more and then, uh, I guess we’ll see where the evening takes us.”

The food in your mouth abruptly tastes like ash as a pang of nervousness strikes you square in the chest. Is he flirting? Maybe that’s his master plan, seducing me with food so I’ll spend the night. Or maybe…maybe I’m overthinking things and he’s making innocent conversation.

You set the uneaten crust down on the plate, appetite lost for the moment. “What do you have in mind?”

“Honestly?” He looks at you over his shoulder, mid-motion of preparing a second grilled cheese, one eyebrow arched. “I was hoping we could talk.”

“Talk?” you repeat, positive you misheard him.

To your surprise, the tips of Javier’s ears turn red with uncharacteristic bashfulness. He fumbles for words for a moment, then waves a flippant hand, a forced chuckle pushed out of his throat.

“Yeah, you know, talking,” he says, and maybe he would have appeared nonchalant if not for the restless drumming of his fingers on the counter and his tremulous voice. “I heard people still do that on first dates.”

You lean back in your seat, unable to mask your surprise. “What,” you begin, hesitantly. “What do you want to talk about?”

Javier directs his gaze towards the skillet once more, laying down a bread slice to start cooking while simultaneously hiding his face from your scrutiny. “It’s probably obvious, but I’m not good at this. Dating, I mean. It’s been a long time since I met somebody I wanted to know better. And even then, it didn’t exactly turn out great.”

“I’m not exactly an expert on dating either, Javi.” Your mouth twists sympathetically. “But maybe we could figure out what works for us? You know, together.”  

“Together sounds perfect, tesoro,” he agrees with a nod and warm smile. 

Ten minutes later, the two of you sit side by side on his living room couch, a plate full of grilled cheese sandwiches and a couple of beers within easy reach on the coffee table. Good food and good company, you honestly couldn’t ask for a better first date.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” This time there isn’t an undercurrent of trepidation in your voice when you ask the question. There’s no reason to be scared when it’s just you and him, figuring things out step by step. Together.

Javier takes a sip of his beer, seeming to think about it for a moment, forehead scrunching. 

“Anything and everything, tesoro,” he answers at last. “Whatever comes to mind.”

~~

“The whole toilet was covered in golden angels and shit,” Javier says, and insists over the sound of your wheezing laughter, “I’m telling you the truth, tesoro. I saw that fucking thing myself in La Catedral.” He tilts his head, smirking. “Used it, too.”

“Javi, you didn’t.”

“Of course I did. You really think I’d pass up the once in a lifetime opportunity to piss in the gold toilet of a world-famous drug lord?”

~~

“Fuck no. You can’t be serious right now.”

“What? The Monkees are a valid choice,” you say, torn between defending yourself and bursting into laughter. 

“Not when the question was do you prefer the Beatles or the Rolling Stones!” Javier counters grumpily, shaking his head like you’ve just given him the worst news of his life.

“I liked their tv show,” you tell him, and when he lets out a derisive snort, you tap a finger against your chin, mock thoughtful. “How’d the theme song go again?”

“Don’t—”

“Here we come, walkin’ down the street–”

“I swear tesoro, so help me—”

You keep singing, purposefully pitching your voice louder than his protests. “We get the funniest looks from–”

Javier chucks a pillow at you, putting an end to your impromptu living room concert.

You laugh so hard you nearly roll onto the floor.

~~

“You know, back in the kitchen,” Javier starts, words leaving his mouth slowly, a hint of a smile curling at the corners of his mouth, “you called me ‘Javi darling.’”

“I did?” You bite your lip, unsure how to feel about that. Shouting your feelings for him from a rooftop would have been a subtler approach than calling him such an affectionate nickname.

He nods his head. “Yeah.”

“Oh, well,” you scratch the back of your head, “I’m sorr—”

“I liked it.”

“—ry. Wait, what?”

He nods again, smile widening yet still soft around the edges, full of fondness. “I like it. I like being the only one you call that just like I’m the only one who calls you tesoro.”

You don’t have the heart to tell him about Stechner’s attempt at poisoning the nickname when he’d visited the mailroom. No, really, your heart is currently melting into a puddle right now, completed wooed by Javier’s sweet declaration.

“So, it’s settled then,” you say, laughter slipping into your voice as a thought occurs to you. “We’re going to be one of those disgustingly affectionate couples with cute nicknames for each other. Riley’s going to start writing poetry about us.”

“Oh yeah, did I ever tell you she threatened to staple a whole list of my most sensitive body parts together if I ever upset you again?”

“Oh my God.”

“Right?” Javier says, shuddering as he recalls the traumatic encounter. “For someone so small, she’s fucking terrifying—”

“I need to buy her a cake or something to thank her.”

“What.”

~~

You’ve been rambling about a documentary on butterflies you saw last week for five whole minutes and Javier hasn’t looked away from you once. His eyes flicker between watching your gesticulating hands, mouth tilted up like he finds your movements entertaining, and watching your face. Your whole face, not just your mouth as some of your previous dates were prone to do.

You try not to trip over your words or lose concentration, but it’s challenging because Javier is mere inches away, looking at you, and you’re still not used to being seen. It’s almost an intoxicating sensation, having someone as intense and mysterious and beautiful as Javier interested in plain, unremarkable you. 

Distracted by your thoughts, you don’t realize you’ve stopped talking until Javier’s leaning closer, squinting to see you better. The dim lighting of the nearby table lamp highlights half of his face, that one brown eye molten and piercing. Your breath catches in your throat.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks softly, one of his large hands curling around your knee.

You stare back at him, thinking, Because you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And immediately after that, you wonder if maybe you’re not the only one unused to being seen. It’s an idea that makes your heart ache.

“Haven’t you heard?” you answer after a moment, leaning further into his orbit to lay a hand on the side of his face, thumb brushing along his cheekbone. “I’ve got a crush on you.”

“What a coincidence.” Javier presses a kiss to your palm. “I’ve got a crush on you, too.”

“Is that why you look at me?” you blurt out before you can think about the potential consequences and future embarrassment of asking such a stupid question. 

Javier freezes, lips still pressed against your skin.

To say you’re flustered is an understatement. No, you’re leagues past the state of flustered and well into the pit of mortification. Your heart is racing, your stomach has dropped somewhere on the floor near your shoes, and you’re torn between leaping out the window or sprinting for the door—unsure which escape attempt would put a quicker end to your misery.

You’re startled out of your thoughts by urgent lips slamming against yours. You react on instinct alone, your other hand wrapping around the back of his neck and tugging at the hair there. It’s not like the kiss you shared in the parking lot earlier, there’s nothing chaste or gentle about this, just something desperate and insistent, like he’s trying to convey a message from his soul to yours.

“Javi darling,” you manage to gasp out between kisses, squeezing his shoulder, “I need words. I need to know–”

He tears himself away with a low growl of frustration, pinning you with a look of such fierce intensity you’re struck silent. “Fuck,” he says in reaction to whatever expression is on your face right now. He leans back in again, like he just can’t help himself, nose brushing against yours before he tilts his head up to press a searing kiss against your forehead. “Tesoro, sweetheart, isn’t it obvious why I look at you?”

Your eyes connect with his. A sudden tension grows between you two, like his words have created a gap and the only way to cross it is to understand what he’s not explaining. It feels like time has frozen, granting you this fragile moment to collect your thoughts, except there’s nothing in your head except Javier.

And all at once, like a switch has been flipped, you understand. It shouldn’t be possible without words, but you do. Because it really is as obvious as Javier said it was.

That unspoken feeling you’ve been holding in your heart, a four-letter word you haven’t found the courage to say, worrying it’s too soon, that it will scare him away—

He feels it, too.

__

Un sándwich de queso a la parrilla para mi chica. -- A grilled cheese sandwich for my girl.

[absurdthirst]

FIRST of all, congratulations on 11k! That’s absolutely incredible and you deserve every single one of them ❤️

Second—I have some masterlist recommendations. In no particular order:

@starlightmornings writes some of the softest, heart achingly beautiful stories I’ve ever had the privilege of reading. My very favorite is her Magic Markie series, and NOT just because she wrote it as the most thoughtful birthday present I’ve ever received. She captures every Pedro boy with a unique voice and it really shines here with all of them involved. Also—World Enough and Time is an absolutely gorgeous time-travel fic and her Pero is just delicious.

@mothandpidgeon comes up with incredible AUs. Helter Skelter and Looking are just two that I go back to over and over. Also, if you’ve ever wanted to get into the darkness of some of these guys, Mothy is your girl. She digs so deep into their psyche and her characterization is just second to none.

@lowlights is where you want to go for softness with just the tiniest bit of angst. Her Gardener Din AU and Love and Dumplings in particular stay with me wherever I go. ALSO Mi Media Naranji has some gorgeous scenery and the sweetest Javi G I’ve ever read.

@thewayofthemandalorian is truly one of the best people I know, and was one of the first writers I found here when I came to the fandom. She has some incredible AUs as well and is just so prolific, but right now I’m absolutely obsessed with All’s Faire. Modern teacher Pero Tovar is truly something to behold. Oh!! And Ineffable—her Ezra is just dreamy.

@iamskyereads makes me weak with her prose. She is also arguably one of the most amazing Javier Peña writers in existence. She has a remarkable ability to nail his voice and actions, as well as write interesting and complex and believable reader/OCs to go with him. And not just Javi—Pero, Dave York, and Ezra also get the same treatment. It’s like she’s studied them all for years.

@unhinged-summer-fun has the unique ability to nail a story and the characterization of everyone in it every damn time. Every time she gives me something new to read I gobble it up like a greedy rat. She gave me the most beautiful series in the world—Triptych. She took The Thief and made him into someone I trust enough to love Marcus Pike the way he deserves.

@the-scandalorian writes Din Djarin the way I desperately want to write Din Djarin. Simone just gets the man and I think I’ve read everything she’s put out at least twice. And I’ll read it again and again and again. Especially monster!Din.

@leslie-lyman ruined me with Stranger at My Gate. Truly one of the people I read and go, “Wow she gave this to us for free?” And every morsel of something new she gives me I devour and wait patiently for more. She has a way of writing a sentence that can stab me in the heart and I’ll thank her and ask for more pain, please, because I know she’s just going to fix it.

And these are just a handful. I have so much love for so many writers, but I’d be here ALL night if I listed everyone. Again, congrats on 11k!! ❤️

MasterList by @starlightmornings

MasterList by @mothandpidgeon

MasterList by @lowlights

MasterList by @thewayofthemandalorian

MasterList by @iamskyereads

MasterList by @unhinged-summer-fun

MasterList by @the-scandalorian

MasterList by @leslie-lyman

Thank you so much love!!!❤️

[pitaparka]

sex headcanons

note — NSFW. whelp. if anyone wanted proof of me being clinically insane, this is what you could show them. not only has all of my free time been devoted to watching anything with pedro pascal in it, this is also what i think about while watching these anythings. i know there are people out there who have loved him for longer and are even more obsessed than i, so i figured i would share my personal headcanons for the PPCU (pedro pascal cinematic universe, duh). big love for any fans of pedrito - nat

MANDO

- VIRGIN with a capital V

- did you see how he reacted when grogu touched his face? this man has not been touched since he was a child

- he grew up with the mandalorians but he was exposed to suggestive behaviors because, helloooo, bounty hunter

- you have to coax him into it, but it doesn't take much, since he plans on keeping you around long term

- plus, you're so good with the kid

- you provide him a safe space to explore both himself and also your body and he has no idea how lucky he is for it

- doesn't make very much noise, but loves to listen to you

- he won't last long, he’s so sensitive from years of going untouched, but this man's recovery time???

- unparalleled

- he also has the dick of a space porn star and doesn't know it

- but seriously, rice purity score is NOT lower than 90, and most of the boxes he checks are "running-from-the-police" related

- he really wants to be held and have someone run their hands through his hair and kiss his neck and hold his hands is that too much to ask???

EZRA

- his words are where he gets you

- who knew dirty talk could sound so elegant??? and poetic??

- what a tease he is, too

- he pants so heavily right in your ear holy sweet lord

- and loves to laugh during sex

- he doesn't take himself super seriously unless he gets super into it, which has been known to happen from time to time

- safe words have been used between you two, which there's no shame in, but he's so good to you afterward

- he loves aftercare, and being gentle and sweet after a rough session

- asks you what you want and makes you beg for it

- makes you feel like you're in control but really, he's the one in control

- will make you cum before he does

- kinky kinky boy, almost always willing to try what you want him to

- loves to pin you down, but after he loses his arm it becomes a bit harder, so he settles for holding you flush against his chest as you squirm in his strong grip

FRANKIE

- a little soft spoken, but will whisper in your ear in public because he knows it gets you riled up

- will stare you down from across the room with bedroom eyes

- he's got that pilot's precision if you know what i mean aha

- he's honest with you about what he likes and has no qualms about telling you up front

- gives off switch energy, but you're gonna have to really make it worth his while if you want to fuck him

- a very gentle touch, which he would love to be reciprocated

- he aches from years in the service, his back, his knees, his shoulders

- would probably drop dead if you gave him a massage as foreplay

WHISKEY

- what an arrogant piece of shit

- "gorgeous, darlin', sweetheart, sugar"

- he will butter you up like a roll on thanksgiving goddamn

- so straightforward, and very up in your face, but it got you to sleep with him the first time you met him, so you can't say it doesn't work

- not the best with his fingers, but dear lord that tongue does wonders when he's not talking

- is a man on a mission to please you

- will spend an absurd amount of time between your thighs, and loves to feel you try to push him away when you get oversensitive

- loves it when you get feisty

- pull his hair, bite down a little harder than usual, push him down onto the bed or forcefully unbuckle his pants and this man will be putty in your hands

- is SO LOUD, and expects the same from you

- doesn't understand that because you're not screaming to the heavens doesn't mean he's doing a bad job

- associates volume with pleasure which isn't always the case

- that's something you'll have to work on with him, but he's a patient man

JAVIER PEÑA

- keeps condoms and lube on hand at almost all times

- ohhhh boy is this man willing to go at it wherever, whenever, you name it

- will fuck you until he sweats, and keeps going afterward

- and will definitely do you right

- he fucks to feel in control, so good luck trying to take control with this one

- almost tries to distance himself from you at first, but really it scares him that he cares so much

- there's just something about orgasming at the same time as you that just makes his whole week, and your hole weak (ahaha)

- likes to fuck you from behind and fuck you roughly, hands both occupied at the same time, mouth on you, and dick inside you

- very hands on, but can be sweet afterward

- this man kisses like no other you've ever kissed before, he leaves you breathless

MARCUS MORENO

- leads by example wink wink

- will show you what he wants done to him, and is pretty vanilla, but in a good way

- is big on foreplay and also aftercare, probably one of the sweeter ones on the list

- he's almost methodical in his sex, very routine, but willing to deviate for you

- gentle, but deep, languid strokes

- thinks he's quieter than he actually is

- always has a lot on his mind, so he really appreciates it when you can ease some of his tension

- secretly was really experimental in college

- very attentive to your needs and likes to tease

- morning sex is his thing. when he gets home from a long day, he wants to eat and relax and sleep. but in the morning? before anyone is up and before breakfast is even being considered, he likes to wake you up with sweet bruises and roaming hands

MARCUS PIKE

- marcus is the type of man to respect your boundaries fully, keep copies of toys he knows you like at his house, and surprise you at work with flowers and a dirty quickie in the bathroom because you've wanted to try it so badly

- a more traditional way of thinking on sex, and semi-reluctant to do anything involving his ass, but will try it for you if you really want him to

- a very quick learner, this one, and incredibly intuitive

- what he lacks in skill he makes up for in enthusiasm

- it's almost like he can read your mind, when he uses just the right amount of pressure and uses just the right motion to make you cum for him

- you have no idea how anyone could give this up, let alone break his heart

- his favorite thing is having you ride him, your face buried in his neck as you grind your hips down as he whispers praise in your ear

- marcus isn't super kinky, but i'm sure you can convince him to try something new every once in a while

MAX PHILLIPS

- OFFICE. DESK. SEX.

- "a private word with you in my office, please."

- so very seductive. the hand on the small of your back gets you going and he knows it, but he'll have to be more subtle if he wants to keep you

- another one who will butter you up to get you to sleep with him. he's very obvious about it, so it may or may not work first time. regardless he's up for a challenge

- pays so much attention to your neck. you will have to invest in many turtlenecks if you want to be with max

- big on eye contact, except for the exception of fucking you senseless over his desk

- obviously, a vampire, so he's absolutely magic between your thighs

- is very personable with everyone else, mainly because he's a business major, but he LOVES to make you jealous, this man LIVES off of it

- will one hundred percent expect you to be putty in his arms immediately, and treats it as a competition if you aren't

- he WILL take it personally and will make it a personal goal of his to get you to like him and want to fuck him without using his powers

- a game of cat and mouse

- does not care at all about being loud in the workplace, but he likes to see you struggle to keep quiet, even if everyone else can hear you anyway

MAXWELL LORD

- has suCH a praise kink wow

- his favorite thing is to hear you moan and tell him he’s doing a good job

- a little more vanilla than his counterparts but does like to take control and be a little rough

- a switch sometimes, falls into ruts where he just wants someone to take care of him

- but he WILL NOT ASK FOR IT. his pride won't let him

- at first, he’s not as mindful of you as you’d like him to be

- his sex is fast and unpleasant with hands everywhere and mouths and teeth and touch

- so you sit him down, and show him what you like. very slow and sensual

- you take your time with him, and he eventually starts to do the same with you

OBERYN MARTELL

- remember din's rice purity score? yeah, oberyn's is maybe ten. which is pushing it

- when you meet him, he knows what he likes, and is very particular about it

- he's done his fair share of experimenting, but he's willing to try new things, if there's anything new to be tried

- takes control inside and outside the bedroom

- not afraid to show you your place

- he's the kinky one in the relationship, and he will let you explore his body all you want

- if he doesn't like it he will kindly redirect you, his hands on yours, stroking and tugging and redirecting pressure and placement so that you learn his body in and out

- loves to watch you with his girls and boys. what an exhibitionist this man is

- for most people, they have to choose between quantity or quality in their sex lives. oberyn martell is not most people

- he is a prince, and will not let you forget it, but likes it when you talk back and he has to punish you

PERO TOVAR

- the roughest one on the list, but not the kinkiest

- sex to him when he's at his worst is just a way for him to feel good and relieve stress

- when he's at his best, it's a way for him to make you scream his name

- very possessive about what's his, and if he has to show it in front of everyone else for them to know that he will do it

- this man fucks like a rabbit. how does he find the time??? nobody knows

- his libido is so high. you have no idea how he isn't absolutely spent at the end of a long day of fighting and training and wandering, but he'll fuck you where you lay if you let him and you're too tired to move

- once you accidentally walked in on him stroking himself, and the AUDACITY OF HIM

- he smirked, groaned, and asked you to help him out

- who could resist a man like that