#two can play this game javi

[withahappyrefrain]

The 5 Times You Flirted With Bob + The 1 Time He Picked Up on It

Summary: You've fallen for your friend and have decided to drop some hints that you're flirting. Unfortunately, Bob doesn't realize that immediately.

Warnings: Language, no y/n, female reader, reader has a callsign (Honey)

Thank you to @dissonannce for this amazing idea. Thank you @acewritesfics for the dividers!

"Your hands are so big."

It took Bob a moment to register that you were in fact, talking to him.

"Oh! Um yeah. My ma made me do piano because she felt I was given the hands for them," Bob wiggled his fingers for extra effect, "Y'know, since they're so long."

Yes, they were quite long. It was one of the first things you noticed about Bob. Well, after you noticed his beautiful blue eyes, his endearing lopsided smile, the way he was so considerate of everyone else, so gentle, and yet there was an underlying confidence about him. He was sure of himself, but he didn't feel the need to brag.

Who could blame you for falling head over heels for him?

You flashed him a smile, hand reaching towards his.

"It's just, your hand is so much bigger than mine. See?" You propped his arm up, allowing your palm to press against his, both your fingers spread out to showcase the difference in size.

"See? My hand is so small compared to yours," You giggled. Bob looked down at your hands. Your breath hitched, your fingers twitching, dying to entwine with his.

"Yeah, there is quite a difference in size," Bob said, giving you that small smile you adored so much. That smile gave you the confidence to entwine your fingers with his.

"I think they fit pretty well together, see?" He wasn't letting go. He was still smiling as he looked down at your hand holding his.

Maybe this was finally it, he'd finally realized that you liked him and would-

"I'm gonna go get some more peanuts, can I get ya anything?"

You mustered up a smile, trying to cover up your disappointment, "I'll take a water. Thanks Robby."

As soon as he left, you shot Jake a dirty look, "Seresin, you said that shit would work!"

Jake, who had been pretending to play a game of pool with Bradley, Javy, and Mickey, put his hands up in defense, "Because it usually does! Everyone knows when a girl compares hand sizes it means she wants you!"

"Everyone but Bob apparently," Javy muttered.

"Maybe you just need to be more obvious?" Mickey suggested.

You sighed. You knew Bob. The last thing you wanted was to be so blunt it would overwhelm him. But at the same time, you two had been doing this whole 'friends but also more than that and I'm pretty sure we're flirting?' for the last month and you were getting annoyed with it how seemed to be going nowhere.

Perhaps Mickey was right. You were going to have to be a bit more obvious.

"Bee? You ready?" Bob called out from your living room. Bob's nickname of your callsign (Honey) always brought a smile to your face, as well as heat to your cheeks.

"Almost! Can I get your thoughts on this top?" You asked as you walked in.

"Yeah, I'm sure you look-oh." Bob's eyes widened as he took in the green top you were wearing.

It was tighter than the shirts you normally wore, highlighting your breasts. The fabric stopped right at the end of your rib cage, showing off your stomach and bringing attention to your high waisted jeans, which according to Jake "did wonders for your ass".

"What do you think?" You clasped your hands together, the action causing your breasts to stick out even further.

"Um the uh, the color is really great on you. B-brings out your eyes," Bob said, his eyes looking everywhere except you.

With the way his cheeks were bright red, it gave you confidence to step forward, your body now inches away from his, "I was hoping it would bring out something else besides my eyes Robby."

"I mean you you look great in everything you wear! So mission accomplished," Bob said quickly, his hands fidgeting with his car keys.

"Anything else you want to say about the outfit Robby? I really value your opinion." You stood on the tips of your toes, bringing your chest closer to Bob's face.

It was the first time since you walked in that his eyes landed on your chest. He cleared his throat, as if he was gathering up the courage to say it.

"You should grab a jacket, it's supposed to go down to the low sixties tonight," He said, turning around to head out the door.

God damn it.

You grabbed your phone, quickly texting the group.

Honey: We need to go to Plan C.

Rooster: Plan C?! You're saying the top didn't work?

Bagman: Dude, your tits were like out.

Rooster: Maybe they weren't out enough?

Coyote: If they were out any more, Honey would be getting a public indecency charge.

Phoenix: Maybe we shouldn't use clothes to express our feelings? Just a thought 🤦🏽

Fanboy: Yeah Nat, that's plan C.

Payback: Can we not blow up the group chat tonight? The finale of Insecure is on.

Your right leg bounced up and down in nervous anticipation, your eyes never leaving the entrance to the Hard Deck.

"You don't think this is too much, is it?" You asked your friends/coworkers.

"Nah, it'll be perfect!" Mickey reassured you.

"You and Bob are going to walk out of here holding hands by the end of the night, guarantee it," Jake commented as he lined up the balls for a round of pool.

It took all your strength not to jump out of your seat when you saw Bob walk in. His iridescent blue eyes scanned the room, landing on you. He always seemed to search for you, which had to be a sign that he wanted more, that he felt the same way as you did.

You greeted him with a smile, patting the empty seat next to him.

"Hey Robby! I got something for you!" You called out.

Bob just smiled as he sat down, "I see you got my signature: water and peanuts. Thanks Bee!"

You giggled, shaking your head, "Yes, but that's not just it. These are for you!"

Bob stared at the bouquet of flowers you were holding out for him.

"For me? These are for me?" He asked, eyes wide as saucers.

"Yes! I was just thinking, like why is giving guys flowers not a thing? Because it totally should be! And no one deserves these flowers more than you Robby," You explained, a hopeful smile adorning your face.

Bob gently took the bouquet, admiring each flower.

"I thought they would go well with your eyes-that's why a most of them are yellow," you explained, trying to hide how nervous you were.

"These are perfect," Bob said before leaning down to smell the flowers.

"Really? Each flower has a different meaning," you began, hoping that by fidgeting with your hands, you'd be able to conceal your nerves.

Bob simply smiled, his face the epitome of saccharine, "Oh, I already know."

Your breath hitched, "You do?"

Bob nodded, "Oh yeah! Alstroemerias symbolize support, sunflowers are for loyalty, and violets stand for intuition!"

He wasn't wrong. You couldn't tell if you were upset by that or the fact that Mickey forgot flowers can have more than one meaning.

Time for Plan D.

"Hey Robby! You ready to watch hot people make poor decisions?"

"Ready as I'll ever-that's new," Bob said softly, taking in the new loungewear you had on for your biweekly Love Island watch.

"Oh this? I think I got it last week," you said as you let Bob into your apartment, "It's super comfy and it has pockets!"

It also was cut low, showing off your cleavage, as well as the tops of your thigh.

"Yeah, the uh, color looks really good on you Bee," Bob commented. The compliment brought a smile to your face. He noticed you, noticed you were wearing something new, and seemed to be noticing your now exposed skin.

"Well, let's go see if these folks gain any common sense," you grabbed his hand, practically beaming at how your hand fit perfectly in his.

"Somehow I doubt it," Bob chuckled.

When he offered to hold the popcorn for while you two watched, you weren't disappointed. Sure, it meant you weren't able to hold his hand. But it did mean you could move closer to him, your thighs practically touching.

"I really hope he doesn't take her back," Bob muttered, his eyes glued to the screen.

"He will. They always do," you sighed, gently moving your head so it rested against one of his broad shoulders.

If your action had any effect on Bob, he didn't show it. Which was the problem.

"I would pick you in the recoupling," You revealed, hoping that would be enough, would finally be enough.

Bob smiled, placing a hand on your knee, "That's kind of you Bee. But I think friendship couples go against the nature of the show."

It took everything in you not to scream.

The rest of the night was just a typical Love Island watch night, no touching, no initiating, no declarations of love, and ending with Bob giving you a friendly hug goodbye.

With a sigh, you flopped onto your bed to check your messages.

Bagman: Bee, please tell us it worked and you're marking sweet love to baby on board

Phoenix: you're disgusting Seresin.

Rooster: why would they stop fucking just to text you Bagman?

Bagman: so we can pop some champagne to celebrate

Fanboy: Why the fuck is would we do that?

Coyote: It's a big event! Bee told Bob how she feels AND Bob's getting laid!

Payback: Can I just get one night of peace? Just one night?

You: No one's doing anything bc it didn't work!

Rooster: Not trying to be rude, but weren't you like almost naked?

Bagman: Like 52% nude.

Phoenix: JFC, we're going to plan E folks.

Coyote: Is that when we just lock them in a closet?

Bagman: No that's plan G

"Hey Bee!"

The cheerful, charming voice always brought a smile to your face.

"Hi Robby!" You greeted him with a hug, the comforting scent of rosemary filling your nostrils, "You smell really nice."

"Oh um thanks," A hand flew to the back of Bob's neck, a nervous (and also adorable) habit, "Wanted to smell nice after doing all those pushups out in the sun."

"Well it worked, you smell great," One of your hands reached up to the nape of his neck, toying with the hair that had curled at the end, "Look great too."

The tops of Bob's cheeks were now a dusty pink, "It's just a white Tshirt."

You took a step forward, placing your hands on his chest, "It's a good look Robby. Shows off your muscles. I like it on you.

Bob's lips parted, then promptly closed.

"Uh, t-thanks Bee." He had to know now that you were flirting with him. It was clear as day.

Feeling confident, your hands trailed down to his, grasping them, "We should dance!"

You didn't wait for Bob to answer, dragging him out to the middle of the floor. The sounds of Bradley covering Frankie Valli (begrudgingly, as apparently Jerry Lee Lewis was better) filled the bar.

After a few minutes, Bob's shoulders visibly relaxed, a smile spreading across his face. You threw your head back laughing as he bust out a goofy dance move.

Everyone thought Bob was shy, but that wasn't the case. He was observant, determined to get a good read on someone so he knew how to approach the situation accordingly. Once he was comfortable, his personality shined and he was a sweet, goofy man who you adored with all your heart.

The grin you had was so wide, your cheeks were beginning to hurt. But you couldn't stop, not when he was twirling you around.

"Where did you learn to dance like that?" You asked, having to say it into his ear so he could hear your voice above the music.

Bob shrugged, "I come from a big family. When you know you're going to a lot of weddings, knowing how to dance helps. That and my mom made me do cotillion."

"Well, all that practice paid off. You're a great dance partner Robby." You rested your chin against his broad chest, looking up to meet eyes bluer than the ocean.

In that moment, all you could do was focus on him. The way the corner of his eyes creased when he truly smiled, his comforting scent, his pink, thin lips that you were dying to feel on yours.

You wondered if he could hear your heart pounding, if he could feel it since your body was practically on his.

His hands found their way to your arms, gently placing themselves on your biceps. Was this it? It had to be.

So you stood on the tips of your toes, your lips now closer to his. Your eyes began to close as you leaned in to-

"I gotta go. Jake stuck his foot in his mouth again."

This wasn't a lie. But it still didn't dull your disappointment. Nor did it sedate your growing frustration at this whole situation.

Perhaps you didn't need Plan G or H Perhaps it was time to go with your original plan.

The next time you saw Bob was when Nat threw a small get together to celebrate the end of a long week.

He was wearing that damn white Tshirt again. Whenever he brought his cup of water to his mouth, the fabric stretched across his bicep.

Was he doing this on purpose? Did he know? Consciously or not, that you had fallen for him ever since you two first met at training?

Either way, you were tired of this game you had been playing for the past month.

"Are you sure about this?" Natasha asked.

You simply nodded before taking a shot of vodka. A little liquid courage was always nice.

"Nat, he's oblivious. Honestly, I don't know why we didn't do this the first time," Jake commented as he took the shot glass out of your hand.

"Because we didn't expect him to be that oblivious," Mickey countered.

"Well everyone, wish me luck." You walked out of the kitchen to find Bob still sitting on the couch, glass of water in hand.

His eyes met yours and he gave you a smile sweeter than honey. Your legs began to wobble, whether it was from that smile or your nerves, you couldn't say.

You walked over, making a beeline for him. Bob's eyes widened, his fingers gripping his cup. Your gaze was so intense.

"Hey Bee-oh!" Bob froze as you sat down in his lap, your thighs straddling his lithe hips.

"Hey Robby," your hands found his shoulders, fingers toying with the thin cotton fabric of his shirt.

"Uh Bee, there's um, there's a seat right there," Bob weakly pointed to the empty space next to him.

"I don't want that," you leaned forward, your forehead grazing his, "I want you Robby."

His eyes widened once more, as if he just saw an incoming train, "M-me?"

"Yes. Wanted you ever since that first day of training, when you offered me a mint," you told him.

"I uh, you looked sleepy and mint is known to wake you up and," Bob paused, "Did you say since the first day of training?"

You nodded, smiling at how you were able to see him process this information.

"The first day of training?" He repeated.

"Yes Bob, all you did was offer me a mint and smile to make me fall head over heels for ya," your fingers now went up to the back of his neck, twirling the curled ends of his hair, "Been trying to tell you that for the last month."

Bob opened his mouth, then promptly closed it, his brain still processing everything.

"You good Rob-" You never got to finish your sentence, as Bob decided right then was the best time to press his lips against yours.

His lips were soft and tasted faintly of vanilla, no doubt from the chapstick you watched him reapply. His touch was gentle, his thick fingers ghosting over your thighs, trailing up to your waist. Every move, no matter how small, made your heart fluttered.

Being so close to him, you could smell his aftershave, a mix of eucalyptus and sage. It was intoxicating and you wanted to be surrounded by it all the time, wanted to kiss him all the time.

When he broke away for air, you had to hold back a whimper, your lips desperate for more.

"FINALLY!"

You turned your head to find Bradley, along with Mickey, Natasha, Jake, Javy, and Reuben standing by the doorframe, in perfect view of you and Bob.

You smiled and opened your mouth, ready to make a quick remark. But Bob's fingers hooked underneath your chin, turning your head back to meet his lips again.

Unlike the first kiss, this one was bolder. His lips moved against yours with more confidence. Your whole body felt warm, as if you were floating. His hands now cupped your jawline, which is how you learned that Bob's hands practically covered your whole neck, a discovery that sent you reeling.

Your hands trailed up to his head, desperate to feel his sun kissed locks, desperate to find out if they were as soft as they looked. But just before you could, Bob broke away.

"What?" Anxiety came rushing back, dragging you away from Cloud Nine, your previous location. Did he regret it?

"Let's go."

He moved your body to the empty space on the couch, quickly getting up. You took his hands, allowing him to help you get up. You held onto one hand as he led you to the front door.

"Bob! What are you doing with my backseater?" Javy called out.

"Making up for lost time!"

Maybe you should be a little embarrassed. But how could you? You had finally kissed the man of your dreams, he kissed you back. He wanted to leave with you.

The sounds of the house party fainted, becoming soft background noise as you went outside.

Bob stopped, turning around to face you. Before you could get out a sound, his lips were on you again. His hands pulled your body to his, closing the gap in-between.

You couldn't help but moan when you felt his tongue slide against your bottom lip, immediately granting him entrance. You could hear Bob's breath hitch, his hands roaming across your body, touching your soft skin.

Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving you desperate for more.

"Why do you keep doing that?!"

"I...." His face was flushed, "I meant to ask you if if you drove yourself here. But you looked so kissable. You still do, God I just wanna kiss you again."

"I'm not stopping you Robby," you grinned, stepping towards him, "I'm not stopping you at all."

"Oh don't tell me that darlin'" his Midwestern upbringing laced his words. You always loved his accent, having found it not just unique but also comforting.

Somehow, despite his lips pressed against yours, Bob was able to walk you back to his car, your back meeting the cool metal.

His broad body draped over yours, his tongue frantically exploring your mouth. Your fingers reached up, grasping his hair. It was soft and much thicker than you expected.

What else was there about Bob you had yet to learn? What kind of toothpaste he used, if he drank tea or coffee in the morning. Did he fall asleep to rain sounds or silence? How many pillows were on his bed?

You wanted to know everything.

But right now, you just wanted to kiss Bob.

Your fingers tugged on his hair in an attempt to pull him closer to you. Despite his chest being pressed against yours, it wasn't enough. You wanted all of him.

"We should get in the car," He said, voice breathless. With the way his chest was rising, one would think he had just ran ten miles.

Bob began moving towards the driver's side of his truck, but he stopped, turning back to you.

"I want to take you home," He stated. It sounded like a confession with the way guilt laced his eyes.

"I would love that Robby."

Instead, he just shook his head, "But I shouldn't because you deserve more than that. You deserve a nice date, like that Italian restaurant we always pass when we go to Bradley's. You deserve that and flowers and a lovely dinner with candles and wine that's older than both of us-"

You cut him off by gently pecking his lips, "It's okay Bob. You could take me to that diner up the room from your place tomorrow morning and I'd be elated because I would be with you."

He shook his head, clearly torn between continuing to talk and continuing to kiss you, "But....it's the least I should do. I mean, after all the hints you were dropping. I thought you were just being friendly and-"

"What friend asks another friend to look at their chest?" You asked incredulously.

"I thought maybe we were just really close! That you were really comfortable around me, which is why I didn't think anything regarding what you wore when we watched Love Island. I mean," his face reddened, "I did think about it. Um I thought about it a lot and if you ever want to wear it again, I would not mind-"

"Bob," you stepped forward, placing your hands on his chest.

"I mean, you got me Violets! Those mean loyalty and devotion, as well as delicate love! And believe me I wanted to kiss you at the Hard Deck, but that is entirely Jake's fault-"

"As most things are."

"And looking back it was so obvious and I can't believe I didn't pick up on it," He paused, "Sorry, I I had to get that out. I can take you home or back to my place, whatever you want."

You giggled, delighted by his ramblings. You wanted to hear more of it.

"And now I just want to kiss you. Like all the time," He confessed, his lips moving closer to yours.

"Robby, get in the car," you instructed.

"Oh, um, okay," Bob unlocked his car, moving towards the driver seat.

"No Bob. Get in the back of the car," you instructed.

Bob's brows knitted together in confusion, "But then how will I drive-oh!"

Who knows if you were going to make it back to his place or yours. All you cared about was getting your lips and hands back on Bob Floyd.

[embrosegraves]

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕊𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕫

Oscar Piastri x Horner!Reader Monaco, Canada and Spain oh my! Oscar decides to continue his quest for world domination (claiming home races) and prove that he's the best boyfriend his ex ever lost.

Warnings: my usual warnings apply :P (for the love Nicole Piastri, please pretend oscar's wearing an rbr suit. i beg)

⋆Ember's Notes⋆ I will try my best to get each chapter out on the weekend of the last race mentioned in the chapter. For example, this is being posted in time for the Spanish GP, and the next should be out in time for Silverstone as that will be the last GP mentioned in the next chapter.

series masterlist | previous part | next part

MonacoGP

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yn.horner He may be a silly goofy guy, but he's OUR silly goofy guy

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user5987 he? HE?

user4351 she gets one dog and somehow also brings home a whole ass MAN -> misshoney.lemon uhhhh Mum says I'm much more than JUST a dog. -> user4351 misshoney.lemon you're so right, that's mb

user2457 mum? w-what happened to dad? -> yn.horner yeah so turns out I can't physically date/marry Javi Gutierrez -> pascalispunk not with that attitude😉

danielricciardo right. what's all this then -> yn.horner yeah nah nah yeah. Nah nah but yeah y'know yeah nah. -> danielricciardo 😨 -> yn.horner two can play that game mf

oscarpiastri how much did you freak out when Pedro commented -> yn.horner freak out? me? i didn't freak out. -> pascalispunk not even a lil bit? 😓😓 -> yn.horner skhdajdag okay maybe i DID freak out -> pascalispunk yay 😁 -> oscarpiastri 😆😆

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redbullracing Picture this: 1. admin's new fit (shoutout to thatcrochetgirl 😘) 2. oscar laid eyes on his one true love 3. max doesn't know how to look naturally cool 4. the hairpin of all hairpins 5. car. 6. that moment when u share a podium w/ ur new dad and his weird spanish sidechick (shoutout to scuderiaferrari for the pic, rbr admin didn't get any 😓)

tagged: oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari

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user5598 Admin really said "yeah oscar got 2nd at monaco, but look at my clothes" -> yn.horner the girlies that get, get it

scuderiaferrari We got you girl 😘🫶 -> redbullracing actually the loml -> scuderiaferrari 🤭🤭 -> oscarpiastri ayo? 🤔 -> maxverstappen1 ayo? 🤔 (x2) -> charles_leclerc ayo? 🤔 (x3) -> carlossainz55 ayo? 🤔 (x4) -> redbullracing look away

user5487 not the redbull and ferrari admins falling in love while their drivers are at each others throats -> redbullracing don't let your drivers stop you from finding the love of your life -> user6842 redbullracing periodt 💅💅

CanadaGP

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oscarpiastri In between races 🤟

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user5827 Oscar soft launching before the mid season hit was definitely NOT on my bingo card -> user7593 but after the mid season was??? -> user5827 user7593 I had hope

yn.horner please tell me you're better at tennis than you were last year -> oscarpiastri yn.horner I'll have you know that my tennis skills have vastly improved 🙄🙄

danielricciardo her shoes look so painful 😬😬 -> oscarpiastri she has assured me they're a lot comfier than they look -> heidiberger where did she get them?? I need a pair rn -> oscarpiastri "I have an extra pair if she wants them." heidiberger -> heidiberger i love her

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redbullracing is RBR making an instagram post of a twitter post? yes.

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oscarpisatri peak content really

user5987 RBR admin is iconic for this

maxverstappen1 "Flex on you with my youthful stride" 🤣🤣

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putting the taglist back on the main posts lmao

TAGLIST (closed)((i really hope everyone actually gets tagged, i'm this 🤏close to just getting rid of the taglist all together 🙃🙃))

@barnestatic @fionaschicken @fanficweasley @sltwins @storminacloud @halleest @formulaal @ems-alexandra @iloveyou3000morgan @christianpulisic10 @fangirl-dot-com @nikfigueiredo @yourbane @purplephantomwolf @eternalharry @cherry-piee @starssfall @33-81 @jpg3 @marie0v @d3kstar @applopie @aquangxl @eugene-emt-roe @woozarts @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @1-800-simpingcowbaby @marshmummy @landossainz @alwaysboredsworld @mellowarcadefun @dannyleclerc @lozzamez3 @spookystitchery @scarletwidow3000 @moldyshorts1997 @hiireadstuff @bearyyyy @evie-119 @hwalllllllelujah @nixily @generalnav @hdigditditdjgd @kqliie @lokideservesahug @littlegrapejuice @halfdeadsage @zzzhealy

[gothcsz]

Dangerous Woman | Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | ~9k wc | Part 2 of the Fantasize series | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Javier does something that warrants a second visit.

Tags: stalking, lots of dirty talk, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (we're taking it raw), some plot snuck into the porn (sorry not sorry), spanking, light slapping, slight breeding kink..., some physical descriptions but overall it's pretty vague, no use of Y/N, reader is a photojournalist, reader speaks spanish, we're altering canon timeline just a bit, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: primas (gn), we're back to being delusional! thanks so so so much for all the lovin the boy is mine got like i'm on my knees for each and every one of u fr 🧎🏽‍♀️ hehe i do plan on posting a final part to wrap this up btw. love the dynamic between these two 🖤 did javi match your freak?! did he match your nasty?!

DIVIDERS CREDIT: saradika

You quit going to his apartment entirely. He expects you to meet him there again, and while the urge to return and take things all the way is enticing as hell; you keep yourself from doing so.

Well, technically, you did go by one time and that visit was the reason why you swore the rest of them off.

You watched from the front seat of your car, further down on the other side of the street, as he rested his forearms against the railing; a lit cigarette between his lips while he stared off into the distance.

Your handsome man who somehow looked sexier under distress. Even from how far away you were you could see those defined, prominent wrinkles between his brows.

He was waiting for you. Looking out into the city and wishing that you were prancing your way back to him.

You wondered then if that was a new ritual of his. If he stood out on his balcony every night in hopes of seeing you again. It made your heart soar and goosebumps to erupt along your skin. 

But you want to drive him crazy with your absence, to have him question if what happened that night in his bedroom was as real as it felt. Gaslighting himself into believing it was all just a dream, something his conscience had made up to relieve him temporarily of the hardships of his job.

Part of the sick enjoyment you get comes from your cat and mouse game, with you being the gamemaster. The one who sets the rules and decides when plays are allowed to be made.

You want him to be vigilant, to shine a light against every shadow that crosses his path in hopes that it’s you, the sexy little thing that’s been preying on him for longer than he knows. 

You want to edge him with the anticipation of your next move.

This move won’t happen until further down the line. Things have been tense in the circumstances that overlap both of your careers. Government distrust grows more and more by the day, the drug traffickers get richer by the second.

You just haven’t had the time to follow him as thoroughly as you have been.

Which is why you sunk your claws into someone in his inner circle, a Neil Stoddard that works directly beneath your agent. It had taken you a few tries, causally bumping into him at the market or during a morning jog, until enough rapport was built and you finally convinced him to feed you information on DEA operations.

He was hesitant at first, but you’ve been told that you can be very persuasive; always knowing exactly what to say, which cadence to use and how to shift your body language to match the conversation. Showcasing your skill, you manage to get just about every little detail that you can from the younger agent before anyone else.

It benefits you both in your career and in your efforts to keep tabs on him.

You wonder if he thinks about you in the same way you do him. Does he constantly replay that rainy night in his head? Does he fuck his fist and close his eyes to think of you, the mysterious woman who broke into his apartment just to get on her knees for him? Swallowed his soul in its entirety and then disappeared off into the night?

Fuck, you hope so, because with each day that passes–– you fall deeper in love with Javier Peña.

You’re walking home from work one day, an extra pep in your step at the good news that one of your projects from graduate school is being looked at by some big name publishers back stateside. The excitement of getting your work published by a well known and reputable paper further inflates your ego and the passion that you have for your career.

So you decide to buy something nice for yourself, a materialized pat on the back for being so good at what you do. You enter a quaint antique store that’s nestled in the small plaza a few blocks from your apartment building, eyeing some of the merchandise they have on display.

You’re contemplating whether you want to purchase a set of stained glass table lamps when a distinct glint catches your attention from the corner of your eye.

You turn to see a beautiful engagement ring on display behind the glass counter, its shimmer immediately drawing you to it. You set the lamps down carefully, walking over to the counter to get a better look at the piece of jewelry.

The ring’s silver band is elegantly slender. Intricate filigree work adorns the outer surface with delicate patterns of vines and tiny flowers that spiral gracefully around it. 

At the center sits a stunning marquise cut diamond, its facets catching the light in a soft, romantic sparkle.

You stare at it in awe, imagining it around your finger after he slips it on, still on one knee, while those captivating brown eyes of his stare up at you in nothing but pure love and adoration.

His fiancée. His wife.

Calling the attendant over, she happily lets you try it on incase it needs to be resized.

It doesn’t. It fits just right, making your hand look very lovely. You wriggle your fingers, giggling as it catches the light.

You purchase it, obviously, having her place it in a small, velvety box that you slide into your bag as you thank her for her help; leaving the shop just to walk a few stores down to where they sell lingerie.

There, you buy a new outfit–– this one much more risque than the leather dress that’s neatly tucked away in your closet.

With a small dent in your account, your career on the path of blossoming, and your delusions for him reaching another peak; you go home and plan your next move.

Stoddard tells you about the raid planned to capture Miguel Rodríguez and the fake out involved, since the last time they had targeted him–– bureaucratic bullshit had gotten in the way and prevented the arrest. Something involving the man hiding in the walls and a DEA agent using a sledgehammer to get him out.

Apparently there’s a mole within the Colombian government that’s making it hard to bring the narcos to justice. What’s new? Amidst all this, he mentions how the boss is going to stay behind while everyone else in the department travels to Cali.

This bit of information piques your interest but you keep your reaction neutral. The velvet box in your bag is burning a hole through the leather, reminding you of its existence. You haven’t worn the ring since you tried it on, saving it for the perfect moment.

Like the one that’s just manifested itself.

You get the details of this operation, specifically paying attention to the times so you know at what pace you’ll have to work with.

If your calculations are correct, he’d be all alone in the office well into the night.

You’re an adrenaline junky, clearly, since the idea of sneaking into a government building just to seek pleasure from the DEA attaché has your entire body crackling with electricity.

You thank him as you go your separate ways. The raid is in two days, which will give you more than enough time to get prepared.

Getting ready mellows you out entirely, the only nerves you feel are those of excitement at the prospect of seeing your agent tonight. You’re currently in the bath, your favorite candle lit and on your second glass of wine.

It’d be a massive win for him if they’re able to follow through with the plan. Two of the head honchos in cuffs and behind bars, even if it was the lax walls of a Colombian prison.

Surely it warrants some kind of reward. You did tell him that he’d see you again whenever he did something that was worth your presence. Worth your body.

It could have come sooner, but between the disappearance of Guillermo Pallomari, Christina Jurado’s kidnapping and then Franklin Jurado’s death; fate had other plans.

He just couldn’t catch a break. For his sake, you hope they’re able to get that motherfucker tonight.

Finishing up in the bath, your skin is smooth like the delicate petals of a flower and you smell like a candy shop, all hydrated and plump and ready to be ravaged.

You go through the motions of doing your hair and makeup, this time aiming for a bolder look.

Sharp cat eye liner, classic red lip, thick lashes. You want to mimic the sultry models you see in the high-end magazines.

Dolling yourself up for him is part of your foreplay. You enjoy watching your own transformation, going from a steadfast journalist to a seductive minx at the wave of a makeup brush.

Would he find you attractive? Not your feline alter ego but the real you. The one that camps out in her car more often than not to stalk him, fast food wrappers littering the seats. The woman who broke into his apartment and masturbated using his pillows. The woman using his subordinate to get information about him and his highly classified work operations.

Would the illusion break after so many encounters? Would the allure of your salacious activities dim until that fire is completely smothered with the reality of what you’ve been doing?

Would he even want you if he knew the truth?

You stare at your reflection in the vanity mirror, not even realizing your eyes have glazed over with tears at these thoughts. Your heart aches at the nonexistent rejection.

No, snap out of it. Now is not the time to be thinking of this shit.

Shaking your head, you swiftly get your act together and change into your outfit for the night.

The lingerie set is the epitome of classic elegance with a sexy edge. It consists of a bra, panties, and a garter belt, each piece meticulously designed to celebrate your natural curves and skin tone.

The bra is a balconette style, the cups a luxurious black lace with intricate floral patterns, sheer enough to tease yet opaque enough to leave some things to the imagination. The underwire provides a gentle lift, enhancing the shape of your breasts, while the straps, adorned with tiny satin bows, add a touch of femininity.

The matching panties are a cheeky bikini cut. The front panel is made from the same black lace as the bra, with a subtle scalloped edge that sits gently against your hips. The back is a sheer mesh, offering a tantalizing glimpse of skin with a small satin bow at the waistband. Your ass looks so good.

The garter belt is the pièce de résistance, tying the entire set together. It sits high on your waist, cinching in to create an hourglass silhouette. Four straps extend down, each finished with satin ribbon accents to hold up your thigh-high stockings securely.

You add the accessories: diamond earrings gifted to you by your grandmother, your simple black stilettos and finally–– the ring you purchased at the antique store.

Now in front of a full length mirror, you can’t help but run your hands all over your body. Fuck looking like the high end models from Vogue–– you resemble a god damn Playboy star; sexy enough to warrant your very own centerfold in the magazine.

Maybe you should invest in some bunny ears. Try and be a conejita for one night.

This is what you’d wear on your wedding night, you think, eyes not leaving your reflection as the ring twinkles beneath your bedroom lights. You wouldn’t even wear it in white, the black lace an homage to the erotic start of your relationship with the DEA agent. Your husband.

Your cat mask sits on the bed, right next to your polaroid camera. After you finish eye fucking yourself, you crawl onto the matress and slip it on; obscuring your face in the sexiest way possible.

With all the fuckery he’s had to deal with as of late, you decided you were going to leave some souvenirs behind. A few visuals for him to look at during lonely nights instead of lolling around on his balcony like a neglected puppy.

You begin taking the photos, contorting your body into different erotic positions, getting the best angles. It all comes to you naturally, you’re good behind and in front of the camera.

After a dozen or so snaps of your tits, your ass, your thighs and some cheeky ones of your pretty cunt, you let them develop and take the mask off, putting on a basic satin slip dress to hide your lingerie. 

You were going to be out in a more public space, you didn’t want to risk something happening and for that to leave you basically naked in the streets of Bogotá.

Tossing your belongings into your bag, you drive to the embassy, parking around the back to keep your vehicle hidden from any prying eyes. How ironic. 

The familiar trench coat sits on your shoulders, tied close to keep your naughty outfit out of sight. Your bag hangs from the curve of the inside of your elbow, the kitten mask nestled at the bottom, just waiting for you to don it once more.

In this moment, you feel like one of those cliché romance tropes: surprising your husband at work with skimpy clothes under a fucking coat.

You snort at the realization, but you’re kind of loving this.

When you push open the door to the building, you notice how quiet and empty it is. At the large front desk, an older officer straightens his posture at your entrance.

“Identificación, por favor.”

You bite your lip, praying to god that this works, and dig into your bag to pull out your press lanyard. It has your name on it, what paper you work for along with a photograph that was taken your first day on the job.

You hand it over and he eyes it then you suspiciously, taking in your done up appearance.

“I’ve got some photographs developing in the lab here. Lost track of time at the office which is why I’m stopping by so late. I’ll just be in and out, no worries.” You explain in English with a gentle lilt, hoping that your status as an American will sway him into letting you up.

He hands you back your lanyard. “I’m not supposed to let anyone who isn't employed here in after a certain time. Lo siento, señorita. Regresa mañana.”

Your eye twitches in annoyance at the denial, your skin prickling with frustration.

You have to see him tonight. No matter what. This senile idiot isn’t going to stop you.

“I didn’t want to do this…” You begin with a sigh, leaning forward against the desk and your coat opens up just enough for him to get a good look down your cleavage, “But I’m also here to visit my fiancé, mi prometido.” You bring your left hand up for him to see the ring that adorns your finger, “He’s been having some tough days and I wanted to surprise him. I’m sure you know him. Javier Peña.”

Now this gets his attention, snapping his gaze from ogling your cleavage to meet your eyes.

“Ah, si, Javier Peña. El jefe de la DEA.”

You nod, seeing his resolve dissipating, and he lazily waves his hand, signaling that you’re good to go up.

“Muchas gracias señor, que tenga buena noche.”

Fuck. Yes. Your nerves morph into excitement as you step into the elevator, hitting the button that goes to his floor.

Pretending to be his to a complete stranger has put you further into a mood, feeling your pulse quickening at the idea of doing it again. Of deceiving the world, warping reality to play into your delusions of being happily engaged to a man who doesn’t even know what you look like.

The elevator comes to a stop, the silver doors opening up to a narrow hallway with various rooms and offices on either side. If you recall correctly, his is further down the hall which is perfect because you need to set your belongings down before making your grand entrance.

You find a place for your things behind the stairwell door, knowing that’s how you’re going to make your escape tonight. You didn’t want to walk past the security guard again and you didn’t want to give him enough time to chase you down into the elevator.

You strip the satin dress, stuffing it into your bag and leaving you just in your undergarments. The polaroids you took are nestled into an envelope and put into the pocket of your trench coat once you have it back on, pulling out your mask and gently bringing it over your face. You apply one final stroke of red lipstick and slip the mesh gloves over your fingers before sneaking your way down the hall.

You press your back against the wall, the tap of your heels muted due to the carpeted floor. Fluttering your eyes close, you force your brain to focus on sound— trying to discern if he is here alone or if he has company.

After a few minutes of listening, you come to the conclusion that he is alone so you just barely poke your head around the corner, eyes scanning the dark room.

It looks like a typical office. Desks sprawled about, a bigger one at the front which you assume to be the secretary’s. The usual fluorescents are dimmed, bathing the room in a transparent darkness.

Across the space is his personal office. It looks like a giant fishbowl at the end of the room, giant windows lining every wall. The blinds are open, giving you a good view of him sitting at the edge of his desk, the phone pressed up to his ear while his large hand nurses a glass of his favorite amber liquor, the familiar cigarette hanging from pointer and middle finger.

You hum diligently. How is he always so fucking handsome?

With catlike suaveness, you move across the room and closer to his office, noticing that the door is ajar, giving you the opportunity to listen in on the call.

Your eyes flit up to the analog clock that hangs on the opposite wall. They’re about to move in on Miguel. 

The tension of this moment, the pure suspense does nothing but aid you and your sexual desires. Whatever news he gets, whether it’s good or bad, you’ll be here to console him… with open arms, and open legs, and an open mouth.

Now that you’re closer, you get a better look at him in his typical work outfit. Rolled up white button up, midnight blue slacks and a loose tie. You wonder if he took off the jacket recently or if he’s been walking around like this for a few hours.

Small details like that matter to you. 

You can’t make out the garbling coming from the phone, but you do see the way he exhales and how his shoulders drop. He closes his eyes letting his wispy lashes fan across his skin. Tension rolls off his body in pure relief as he hears that Miguel Rodríguez has finally been arrested and Salcedo was able to get his family safe. 

He returns the phone to the receiver after a few moments, his thick fingers dragging along the plastic and the simple action has a puddle gathering in your panties.

Standing, he makes his way to the large window that overlooks the downtown area of the capitol, the bustling nightlife illuminating the black night sky.

His back is to you, much like the first time you did this dance, smoke from his cigarette curling around him as he takes lengthy drags in self reflection.

You just watch him, once more under his spell while you remain crouched in the shadows.

He’s been through so much, you know this. All the shit with Escobar, getting into bed with drug dealers and murderers just to catch him, only to be taken off right at the end then returning to finish off Cali. 

God that must have been so… depressing. You wish you would have known him then, before the job molded him into more of a cynic.

You just want to comfort and hold him. To love him with every molecule of your existence. 

Don’t worry, mi amor, I’m right here.

With that, you make your appearance, slowly standing and opening the door further.

The shift in the air at your presence has the hairs on the back of his neck standing and he turns his head to the side, catching your silhouette from his peripheral.

“Hola, gatita.”

His voice is smooth and it drips straight to your clit.

“Hey handsome.” 

You close the door behind you, leaning against it as he fully faces you. His brown eyes scan you from head to toe before he moves to sit in the large chair behind his desk, stubbing out his cigarette against the overfilled ashtray.

“You know…” He grunts out, resting his forearm atop of his head lazily as he leans back, “I prayed tonight’s operation would play out as planned. Not because of the metaphorical nail in Cali’s coffin, but in hopes that the win would lure you out.”

“Is that so?” Your heart is racing at his words and his evident craving for you. You try not falter as you slowly make your way around his office, shutting the blinds as you go.

There’s six windows. You’ve got five more to go.

“Mhm,” he hums, glossy eyes following you around the small space, “I just got confirmation that Miguel is in cuffs. On his way to Bogotá. And not even a few minutes later… well, here you are.”

“Here I am…” you flirt, moving on to the next window.

Then the fourth… third…

“How did you know?”

Only two more until you’re secluded in a little bubble of privacy.

“Call it a woman's intuition.”

His jaw ticks, not liking the answer but also not making a fuss out of it. Yet. He wants to enjoy you tonight, to become the keeper of time so he can drag out the hours and devote himself wholly to you. 

He’s missed you entirely too much. It’s a different feeling, this yearning that nips at him. Hardly ever does he think twice about the women he sleeps with.

But there’s something about you and how you popped up in his life so suddenly. How you turned his world on its head.

A kitten size hole has been left in his heart since you left him on his bedroom floor like a toy you weren’t interested in playing with anymore. 

You finish shutting the blinds, turning to face him as he manspreads himself out on his leather chair, rubbing his palm along his clothed thigh. It makes you want to pounce on it, to rub your wet pussy all over him in the same way you had gotten yourself off on his pillow.

You can practically feel his muscles contracting, the slight flex snapping a sharp orgasm out of you. 

“How are you going to thank me tonight, gatita?” His demeanor is vastly different than last time; he’s exuberating some of that dominance you know he possesses.

You remain silent, your gloved hand digging in the pocket of your coat as you pull out the envelope with your pictures in it, bringing it up to teasingly wave around.

His name is neatly written in cursive against the paper and his brows raise in surprise. He hadn’t expected an actual, tangible token of appreciation.

“This is for all your troubles. I know how hard it’s been in your world recently.”

He doesn’t know what to make of that. Granted, anyone can observe that his job is fucking difficult without knowing the specifics.

But it’s the way you said it, as if you know more than what you should.

You place the envelope in between your teeth, some of your red lipstick smudging against it as your gaze remains locked on his. Your hands make work of the belt that’s kept your trench coat closed, tugging at it until it’s undone. 

The air is charged in pure lustful electricity as the fabric falls from your shoulders and pools around your feet.

“Congratulations on your arrest, agente.”

The grip on his whiskey glass tightens, golden eyes turning an onyx color as he drinks in your scandalous appearance like a man who’s been denied the basic necessity of water his entire life.

“You’re killing me here, bebita.”

You giggle, scrunching your nose beneath the mask and the sound of your flirty laugh has his lips pulling up into a small smile. 

“Come closer. Let me get a better look at you.”

You comply obediently, placing one foot in front of the other before he abruptly stops you.

“Gatea como lo hiciste la última vez.”

Oh shit, your legs turn into jello at the command and immediately you fall to your knees, feeling the scratchy carpet through your stockings. 

“Good girl. Me encanta cuando haces caso.” He praises and you moan softly, crawling towards him on your hands and knees, the envelope still between your teeth.

He takes a sip of his drink, still lounging and keeping a cool demeanor, yet not relenting with the heavy stare he’s laying on you.

His eyes make out every curve of your body, how the shimmer from your lotion makes you glimmer like a shooting star. If he could close his eyes and make a wish right now, he’d wish to know who you really are.

You stop once you’re in between his legs and he stares at you for a good long minute before leaning forward, finishing off whatever was left of his whiskey and setting the empty glass aside.

His thumb and index fingers pinch your chin, moving your jaw to tilt upward so he can look down into your lovely eyes. The pair he sees every time he closes his own.

“Let’s see what you’ve brought me.”

He pulls the envelope from your mouth, your saliva leaving it damp but he doesn’t give a damn.

He opens it up, eyebrows quirking at the sight of the polaroid photos as he carefully analyzes each and every single one.

You’re hanging on to every reaction he gives, the way his eyes map every inch of your figure and how you photographed yourself for him.

It’s there, in the pictures, that he sees it. The ring. His brows pull together in confusion, his gaze flickering down to your hands that are resting on your thighs.

“Let me see your left hand, baby.”

The statement has a warmth blossoming in your stomach. You’re certain he can see your heartbeat pounding against your chest.

Tentatively you bring your hand up, resting it on his knee. 

He sets the photos on his desk then delicately removes the glove, calloused fingers taking your hand in his as he eyes the beautiful ring.

“This wasn’t here last time… ¿te comprometiste, gatita? Been giving that dirty mouth and pussy to someone else, hmm?” He places a kiss on the diamond, his dark eyes now boring into you.

Your thighs clench together at the intensity of the moment and you shake your head earnestly, wanting to dispel those thoughts from his mind entirely.

There is no one else. Just you.

“No. It’s all for you Javi. I just—” Your words get jumbled up, lost on your tongue as the sexy facade slips for a moment while you try and find the right words to explain your possessive, matrimonial fantasy to him.

“All for me, huh?” He’s getting a kick out of your nervous state, dropping your hand and motioning for you to give him the other as he takes the glove off of it too.

“All for you. I’m yours.” You say in a shaky breath, “This ring… it’s my way of pretending that it’s all real… that you’re mine too.” That you want me the same way I want you.

Silence cloaks the both of you, his face set in an unreadable expression.

“You don’t have to pretend, gatita. It can be real. Just let me see you.” He goes to unmask you again but you turn your head to the side to keep him from doing so.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It won’t be fun anymore.” Translation: I’m fucking scared that you’re not going to want the real me.

“So? We could have so much more fun without all this.” His pointer finger traces the lacey cat ears, “Not that I mind this. It’s sexy as hell.”

You look at him again, seeing the sincerity in his stare but you just can’t bring yourself to do it.

“No,” you repeat, a little harsher, “And if you try to take it off again I will disappear and you will never see me again.” 

You rise from the floor, trying to regain some of the control that’s slipped from your grasp. His jaw sets, hands coming up to grip your waist, pulling your body to him until his curved nose runs along your belly.

You gasp softly.

“Tan mala mi gatita bella. Luckily for you I like to work for it.”

He begins to place open mouthed kisses all over your midriff, biting the garter belt and pulling on it so it snaps back onto your skin with a delicious sting.

Your head falls onto your shoulder, enjoying the feeling of his lips. You bring your fingers down to run through his hair, enjoying how silken it is.

His strong hands move from your waist around to your ass, digging his nails into the supple skin while he kneads it, groaning at how soft you are. 

“Didn’t get to touch on this pretty body last time. M’not gonna make that mistake again. Bend over the desk, muñequita. Ahora.” He slaps your ass harshly and you squeal, feeling a fresh wave of wetness soaking your folds.

He relinquishes his hold on you, rolling his chair back to give you room to situate yourself in the position he wants to see you in.

You bend at the waist, your heels making the posture look extra sensual as your breasts press against the wooden surface. 

You hold your breath, anticipating what he does next. 

He gets up from the chair, his touch light as a feather as he traces from the top of your spine down to where the arch in your back is. His hands then go to grip your wrists, moving them so they’re pinned at your lower back.

“Gonna have to keep those pretty pictures on me at all times, gatita. Can’t risk someone else seeing what’s mine. I’d have to kill them.”

His possessiveness further turns you on, and now you want for those pictures to fall in the wrong hands. Just to see how he’d react.

He leans over you, placing kisses on the back of your shoulders, moving your hair to the side to expose more of your flushed skin to him. You turn your head, resting your cheek against the desk as you briefly make eye contact with him.

“That wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” You reply and he smirks, kissing the corner of your mouth.

His lips trail down the same path he just traced, working his way down until he’s kneeled behind you, his breath fanning over your sopping pussy.

Your hips twitch instinctively, the pressure between your legs becoming unbearable. You need to feel him on you, whether it’s that sinful mouth of his or those deliciously thick fingers. Something, anything.

As if reading your mind, he brings his hand up to grope your backside enticingly, running his fingers beneath the band of your stockings, your skin feeling like melting butter beneath his touch.

“Been thinking about this since you left me last time. I should have kept you from leaving, should have buried myself in between your pretty legs instead.”

You lick your lips, “Then stop talking and do it.”

He wastes no time in landing a harsh slap against your ass, the skin rippling beneath the touch and you yelp out in both surprise and excitement.

“Eres una gatita tan traviesa. Voy a tener que domesticarté nena.”

Another harsh slap, then another, then another. With each sting you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your orgasm which is a bit pathetic since he hasn’t even touched you like that and you’re already a buzzing, dripping fucking mess.

Each mewl that falls from your lips urges him to continue until he’s satisfied with the flush on each of your cheeks.

His fingers then move to fist the flimsy material of your panties, harshly tugging it until the thin fabric disappears in between your folds and the slight burn from it digging into your sensitive flesh does wonders for the throbbing at your core.

“Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy, bebita, just like I knew it’d be. Look at her, all wet for me. You like getting spanked, don’t you?”

You moan loudly, completely at a loss for words as you nod your head, cheek still pressed to the desk.

“Use your words, sweetheart. Had so much to say last time.” His palm connects with your ass again, coaxing a verbal reply from you.

“Yes Javi, fuck I love being spanked. Love feeling your hands all over me.”

He hums in content, slowly pulling down the ruined underwear off your legs until you’re fully exposed to him. “Since you won’t let me see your gorgeous face, I want you to show off this sweet cunt of yours. Spread her open for me, gatita.”

Exhaling shakily, you move your hands from your lower back until you've got a good grip on your own body, spreading your pussy open so he can see all of you.

For a split second you feel self conscious, not being able to see his reaction as you lay open and vulnerable to him.

That dissipates quickly, however, when you hear his satisfied keen then feel his nose skimming against the plush skin of the back of your thighs, kissing your wrist.

“Now I’m going to taste you.” He repeats your own words back to you, his voice low and deep and fuck are you in love with this man.

His hot, wet tongue licks the length of your slit and you can’t control the noise that you make, sighing his name out. Your skin erupts in chills when he does it again, the coarse hairs of his mustache prickling against your swollen cunt.

“Tan dulce. Dunno how you’re going to pull me off of her.”

And with that, he fully immerses himself in your pussy. He’s desperate, licking every inch of you that he can, savoring the tangy taste of your sex. He sucks onto your folds before hardening his tongue and rapidly flicking the tip against your clit. This has you struggling to keep yourself spread open for him, writhing at his ministrations.

“Oh my fucking god Javier your tongue, holy shit…” You babble, absolutely blissed out as his strong nose nuzzles against your entrance, the tip of it inside of you.

He groans, absolutely pussy drunk, rendering him a scrambled mess as he further buries his face into you, his big strong hands working your thighs, this time actually ripping your stockings.

Making out with your pussy passionately, your arousal drips from his mouth and down his jaw. He pulls back, a stringy glob of your fluids following like a cut open aloe vera plant. His thumb brushes against your clit as he spits onto your cunt, smearing his saliva all over before he slips two fingers inside you.

You clench immediately, crying out his name as his digits stretch you open. “So fucking tight gatita. You gonna squeeze my dick like this?”

Your knees just about give out at the promise of feeling his impressive girth inside of you. You hadn’t planned to actually fuck him tonight, not wanting to spoil the erotic nature of your visits by just giving him your pussy.

But now, as he’s ravishing and fingering you with such vigor and your vision beginning to blur as a sign of your incoming orgasm, you’re back tracking on that decision entirely.

You need him to fuck you. You might just die if he doesn’t.

He curls his fingers at your lack of response, the tips of them brushing up against that spot that makes you jolt, your chest rising from the desk while your thighs tighten.

“Stay put and answer the fucking question,” His free hand moves to roughly push you back down, his mouth joining his fingers on your pussy.

“Fuck yes baby. Gonna squeeze you til I milk every single drop out of that fat fucking cock.” You whimper like you’re in an X rated film, rocking your hips back against him as your stomach tightens. You’re so close.

Content with your answer, he slips in a third finger and harshly sucks your sensitive clit into his mouth, moving his head side to side. That’s enough to have you spill all over him, your body trembling while a mixture of moans and sobs and cries of his name echo out of you like a cock-obsessed woman that needs to be sedated.

Your acrylics dig into the skin of your ass, leaving crescent shaped marks on the flesh.

He continues his relentless assault on your cunt, eating you out through your orgasm. The blood rushing in your ears keeps you from hearing all the filthy things he’s chanting against your skin.

The ring looks so beautiful next to your spent pussy, querida. All mine.

Pulling his fingers from you once you’ve come down from your high, he places a final, more gentle kiss against your clit and you twitch from the oversensitivity.

“Did so good muñeca.” He rises from his kneeled position, the soft sounds of his joints popping having you blink away some of the haziness from your eyes, your body completely limp against his desk.

His hands run along the length of your body before he’s tenderly flipping you over so you’re on your back, the edge of the desk uncomfortably digging into your waist.

Noticing this, he clears some space to make room then lifts you until you’re fully sprawled out on his desk looking absolutely wrecked.

His mustache is damp with your release, lips swollen from him losing himself in the taste of you and drinking all that you have to offer him. Brown eyes remain dark, gaze swimming with longing.

“So handsome…” you mutter dreamily as he hovers over you, his thumb gently caressing the part of your cheek that isn’t covered by the mask.

“I wish you would let me get a good look at you, gatita.” He leans in, kissing your chin then your jaw until he’s trailing down onto the soft skin of your neck.

“Javi…” you sigh out, not only because his lips feel fucking divine but also because you don’t want to have this conversation again.

“I know, I know. You’ll disappear and I’ll never see you again. I got it the first time.”

He cups your breasts in his hands, gently kneading them as he licks down your sternum. He snakes a hand behind you and you arch your back, letting him expertly undo your bra.

The straps are delicately pulled down your shoulder until the garment is completely off, your nipples pebbling as the cool air of his office nips at them.

He wastes no time in wrapping his pouty lips around the sensitive peak and suckling softly. His tongue traces around your areola, grazing his teeth against your nipple which causes you to whine and bring your fingers to entangle in his hair, pressing your chest deeper onto his face.

Repeating the action on the other, he lavishes your breasts with attention from his skilled muscle. His facial hair is an added stimulant to your pleasure and your clit pulsates, body ready to have him inside of you.

You roll your hips, feeling his erection brush up against your naked pussy and your breath hitches in your throat.

It’s then that you realize that he’s still fully clothed while you’re practically naked. The only things that adorn your body are your ripped stockings and the garter belt along with your heels.

Tugging him away from your tits, you bring his face up to yours, noses brushing against each other. You can smell your sex on his lips, so you lean in to kiss him, tasting yourself and moaning.

“I need you to fuck me, agent.” Your lips brush against his as you speak, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer to you.

His chest rumbles at your request, hands antsy as he caresses and gropes; memorizing all your curves and the feel of your body.

“S’that what my gatita wants? For me to fuck her sweet little pussy?” 

Your answer comes in the form of another passionate kiss with a nod, your tongue intertwining with his then sucking on it softly.  He’s such a good fucking kisser, you could make out with him until your lungs burn from the lack of oxygen.

He pulls back, quickly beginning to unbutton his shirt in which you assist him, your french tipped nails taking over while he makes work of getting his pants undone and off.

Sliding his shirt off his broad shoulders, you pull him back down to you, lips quickly kissing all over the freshly exposed skin, savoring the warmth radiating off him.

You feel his naked cock pressing against your wet slit and your head cants back, a breathless whimper pushing past your lips while he lets out a deep groan.

“You make such pretty noises, muñeca. Wanna hear them all the time.”

He rubs his plush head against the length of your sopping pussy, collecting the wetness of your arousal.

“Gonna let me fuck this pussy raw, gatita? For all I know you’ve been spreading your legs for half the fuckin’ city.”

Your head spins, body overstimulated by his touch and the words that leave him. 

“Need to feel all of you, Javi. I think about it all the time. No one else. Just you.” You whisper out, once more clenching your thighs around his hips and rolling your own to entice him into slipping inside your tight and needy heat.

He curses, his teasing finally getting to him as he slowly sinks his thick, hard cock inside of you.

You both sigh out in pleasure in unison, your fleshy walls contracting around his length and swallowing him in, almost in the same manner in which your throat had all those nights ago. 

Every part of your body is eager to feel him somehow, your obsession and insatiable craving convoluting your being into nothing more than just something to bring him pleasure.

“Goddamn nena te sientes tan rica. Este cuerpecito está hecho para mí.”

He still hasn’t bottomed out and you feel so incredibly full. Your wet dreams have nothing against the real thing. 

“Javiiii, I need you to move. To fuck me hard and fast.” While you know having him rock into you slowly and sensually would feel better than winning the fucking lottery, you need to drop your own self respect and have him take you like the whores he’s so fond of.

He bares his teeth, straightening his posture so he’s no longer hovering over you. He readjusts your legs to sit higher on his waist.

“Was goin’ slow to give you the chance to get used to me baby pero la gatita quiere mas and I can’t help but spoil you, hermosa.”

Without warning, he snaps his hips into yours and you gasp loudly, the burn of him stretching you out adds vicious heat to your already hot cunt.

“Oh just like that Javi please…” you sob as he begins to fuck you just as you asked. Hard and fast. 

“Pobrecita. Can’t even take what she’s asking for.” He fucking pouts, mocking you and you’re certain that you’ve died and gone straight to horny heaven.

The desk moves with every thrust; pens, papers and other items hitting the floor. 

He roughly takes ahold of your bouncing tits, using them as leverage to keep splitting you open on his cock, your arousal leaving a creamy ring against his flesh and the sight has him going feral.

“Fuck this is the best pussy I’ve ever fucked, querida. So tight and fucking perfect. Bet you’ve never been fucked like this before, huh? S’probably why you came to me. Knew I would take good care of you.”

Your hands grip the edge of the desk, knuckles flushed, to keep you from falling off. The scratchy hairs on the base of his cock brush against your sensitive clit, having you shut your eyes out of pure ecstasy.

You never want this to end.

“Abre esos ojos gatita, you’re already denying me so much by not letting me see your lovely face. At least let me look into those beautiful eyes while I fuck you.” One of his hands leaves your breast, lightly slapping you to get your attention back on him.

As if it ever wavered.

Your eyes blink open, the slight sting across your cheek only bringing you closer to your orgasm.

“D-Do that again.” You plead with a small smirk, squeezing your walls around him and he grunts, slapping your face again.

You moan and he matches your smirk, basking in your reaction.

“Ay nena, eres mi dream girl. Where the fuck have you been all my life?”

His praise paired with the harsh snap of his hips driving his cock deeper is enough to have stars blinding your eyesight as your pussy tightens and your orgasm begins to shoot up your spine.

“Aqui, Javi. I’m right here baby.” Your words slur, absolutely cock drunk.

His torso looks perfectly fucking sculpted, like a god walking amongst men. Different muscles tense and jolt at his movements; you want to bite into his triceps and lick all over his prominent collarbone.

He shifts again, this time throwing your legs over his shoulders and the change in angle has you moaning out like a seasoned pornstar. He places gentle kisses against the inside of your knee, trailing his tongue against the nylon of your stockings before doing the same on the other leg.

This has your pussy feeling tighter and you watch as his own orgasm begins to overtake him.

It’s the hottest thing in the world.

Your left hand trails down the length of your torso until it’s at your pulsating clit, the tips of your fingers beginning to rub small circles against the pearl.

His dark eyes fall onto your movements, his tongue running along his teeth slowly.

“Tan hermosa, nena. Look at how that ring looks against your pussy. Do you touch yourself pretending it’s me, tu esposo, gatita?”

You nod, no longer feeling shy about your perverse delusion of belonging to him in a matrimonial sense. “Si, all the time. Think about you coming home to our house and fucking me on our bed. Ay, Javi I’m about to cum.”

His balls clench, jaw ticking as he too begins to slip into this fantasy of yours. “I’d take such good care of you baby. Make sure all of your needs are, fucking christ,” his thrusts stutter, “met. I’d do anything for you.”

And just like that, your orgasm topples over and your back archs off the desk at the intensity of it. Your vision spots, ears ringing as you douse his cock with your cum.

He fucks you through it, muffled words of praise not reaching you since you’re trying to focus on not passing out from pure bliss.

His cock twitches inside of you, feeling you come undone pulling euphoria out of him too.

“Where do you want it, gatita. You better tell me before I cum in this pussy and make you a mamita.”

Oh fuck, while the offer sounds enticing as hell, you know you need to think with a somewhat clear head so you just say, “Cum all over my clit, please.”

You don’t need to tell him twice, he pulls out just enough for the hot ribbons of his spend to messily land on your exposed clit, some of it getting on your knuckles and ring as you lazily rub it in.

He’s cursing up a storm, a tight grip on your thigh as he empties his balls all over your flesh. 

You both are left panting, his cum dripping down your fingers and pussy onto his desk. Blinking slowly, you meet his gaze and bring your digits up to your mouth, sucking them in and humming in content at the taste of your mixed release.

“Sucia,” he spits out before falling to his knees again, giving you no time to fucking react as he buries his face in your freshly used cunt.

“Javier!” You shout, literally shout, as he eats your cum and his out of your sweet pussy. Your fingers shoot down to tangle in his mussed hair, yanking on it without caring if it pains him or not. 

You don’t even realize it but you’re actually crying. The tears falling from the corners of your eyes beneath the mask and onto your cheek.

You’ve never felt this good. Never had a man, or anyone else for that manner, make you feel as sexy and wanted as the agent that’s currently in between your legs. 

When he finally stands, you’re left an incoherent mess and all he does is smirk.

“We taste good, muñeca.”

You whimper, not knowing how the fuck you’re going to recover from this and if you’ll even make it down the flight of stairs that awaits you for your departure.

Javier’s after care consists of placing soft kisses all over you, whispering sweet words to help bring you back to him. He caresses you again, this time being mindful of your over sensitivity.

He kisses along your thighs and tummy then moves up to each breast. His fingers graze along your skin and when he’s finally at your mouth, your lips meet in a kiss that surpasses any of the other ones you’ve shared with him.

Your mask makes it a little awkward at first but neither of you seem to care, too lost in the feeling of the other. It’s sensual and slow, all the unspoken things felt between the two of you being relayed during this interlock.

He pulls back, resting his forehead against the lace and plastic of your kitten mask. Your red lipstick is smeared all over his handsome face.

The lust in his brown eyes has now been replaced with something else that you can’t quite put your finger on, and that’s enough to snap you out of your trance and you gently push at his chest.

“I have to go.”

He scoffs, not moving from over you, “You don’t.”

“I do, Javi.” You say, a little more forcefully, which gets him to pull away.

Your panties and bra are on the other side of the room and you slide from the desk to retrieve them, wobbling as you go.

You’re going to be feeling him for days.

“How many more times are we going to do this? What’s the endgame here?”

You pull your underwear up your legs, cringing at how uncomfortable the damp material feels against your swollen core.

“There is no endgame. We’re just messing around.”

With your bra back on, you move to retrieve your trench coat which means you have to face him now.

He’s leaning against his desk like he had been when you first arrived, pants undone but up on his hips again.

“So that’s it? You’re just going to sneak in whenever you need a good fuck?”

You laugh dryly, crossing the room to get your coat but he grabs you by the forearm once you pass him; halting you in your spot.

“Javier,” You warn.

“You’re breaking my fucking heart, baby.”

You stare at him, wanting nothing more than to rip the mask off and confess to him how much he means to you despite this being anything but a conventional relationship.

As delusional as you’ve tended to be as of late, you know he’s way out of your league. He doesn’t go after girls like you.

Girls that are easy to dismiss and forget in the pouring rain.

“Same rules as last time: you’re not going to follow me out or stop me. Are we clear?”

He tightens his grip on your arm and you narrow your eyes.

“Are we clear?”

He’s silent but finally lets go and you don’t hesitate to grab and put on your coat.

You’re so eager to leave that you don’t notice your press lanyard has slipped out of your pocket as you’re making your way to the door.

He stands from his seated position and you brace yourself for yet another attempt at him trying to change your mind.

But it doesn’t happen. Instead, you hear the flick of a lighter and that’s enough to get you to turn the doorknob and leave without another word. 

Javier smokes the entire cigarette to calm his racing heart before he lazily begins to clean up the mess you two made in his office.

He’s lost in his thoughts, all consisting of you, until he spots the lanyard in the corner.

Picking it up, he looks at it quizzically before flipping it over. His jaw tightens once he sees your face, the familiarity of your lips and eyes luring him in.

He’s got a clear view now and it strikes him entirely, heart fluttering as he takes in your appearance. 

He reads your name, as if tasting it on his tongue, and the outlet you work for out loud. He recognizes you from somewhere but he just can’t remember where.

This is going to pick at him like an unhealed scab. But at least Javier knows who you are now.

Of course she’s a reporter. Things are starting to make more sense.

Translations:

Identificación, por favor - Identification please

Lo siento, señorita. Regresa mañana - I'm sorry ma’am. Come back tomorrow

El jefe de la DEA - The head of the DEA

Muchas gracias señor, que tenga buena noche - Thank you very much sir, have a good night

Gatea como lo hiciste la última vez - Crawl like you did last time

bebita - baby girl

agente - agent

muñeca - doll

Me encanta cuando haces caso.

¿te comprometiste, gatita? - Are you engaged, kitten?

Tan mala mi gatita bella. - My beautiful kitten is so bad

Eres una gatita tan traviesa. Voy a tener que domesticarté nena. - You are such a naughty kitten. I'm going to have to tame you baby.

Tan dulce. - So sweet

Goddamn nena te sientes tan rica. Este cuerpecito está hecho para mí. - Goddamn baby you feel so good. This little body is made for me.

pero la gatita quiere mas - but the kitten wants more

Abre esos ojos gatita - open those eyes

esposo - husband

sucia - dirty

[missnancychavez]

So I am on my third rewatch of Twisters. So here are some of my own personal headcanons and theories for the movie and some parallels that may add weight to those theories.

1. The original 5 friend group dynamic: Jeb and Praveen have known each other for years and are each others best friend. Javi and Kate are the dynamic duo (basing it on the fact that they were the only ones to do the handshake together). And Addy is everyone's little sister. Her and Kate were extremely close, but in a different way than her friendship with Javi.

2. Tyler Owens is the nephew of Bill and Jo on Bill's side (As we knew Jo didn't have any sibling). He spent his summers with them as a kid, and then as a teenager, he moved in with them full time. He started chasing with them around then, too. He even pays homage to that as he is driving a newer model of Bill's red dodge ram.

3. Boone and Lily have something going on. The way Boone screams her name as she gets picked up by the wind. And their personalities are perfect together. You can't convince me otherwise.

4. Kate and Tyler kiss in the truck after the chase they go on straight from the airport at the end of the movie. (Refer to point 8)

5. Kate puts in her resignation almost immediately, and Javi cuts ties with Riggs and Scott. The wranglers and Kate join StormPAR. Kate and Tyler spend the off-season working with Javi while the others do their own gigs, but during the storm season, they are all chasing and gathering data.

6. Cathy is so encouraging of her daughter because she's been through loss before. They called her Mrs. Carter, meaning she was married. Kate's dad died when Kate was a little girl. Cathy had to learn how to navigate being a young mom and tending a farm on her own. But she also knows that it could stop her from living her life. So she didn't. She grieved, and she learned to live with the grief and still do what she loves. It's why she is so encouraging of Kate getting back out there.

7. Kate stayed in OK for another couple of weeks after the tornado (neither her nor Tyler appeared injured in the final scene, and the truck looks great, all things considered, so clearly they had time tp heal and fix the truck.) They all were forcibly invited back to the farm by Cathy after Tyler and the wranglers went to drop Kate off post El Reno. Cathy took one look at Tyler and forced him in the house. Kate gave herself a headache from laughing so hard. She was then sent inside alongside him. Cathy made everyone stay for as long as they needed. But she did, however, get some free labour from it. It was an unspoken agreement that Kate's was now home base.

8. By the credit scenes, Kate and Tyler are together. Their first kiss was immediately after the two of them went chasing from the airport. Something about their adrenaline rushing, and it being just the two of them. It was electric. It was immediate. It just happened, and when they pulled back, they both started laughing. It reminded him of the first time they chased together, just the two of them. Kate delayed her flight for another two days. She was back home within the month. Tyler quickly realised he would have to start bribing Boone afterwards on the days he and Kate went out.

9. Kate and Boone will play card games at night to see who gets shotgun the next day, when Boone isn't riding with Lily, of course. Turns out, Kate's damn good at playing poker. On the rare occasion that Kate drives, Boone automatically hops in the back of the truck. He won't tell anyone, but he loves it when she drives. She gets this manic energy about her in the drivers seat and his adrenaline always ends up pumping. Tyler loves it, too, but he has no qualms verbalizing his affections toward her.

10. Tyler has nightmares now. Of watching Kate drive into the tornado. Of finding her body, discarded and broken by his truck. Of her slipping through his fingers during a storm. He wakes up sweating and panicking. And it's only when he sees her that he can calm himself down. The two of them, those first two weeks after El Reno, would spend hours each night, sitting in the barn, going over formulas. Or sitting outside on the tree swing, talking until they were both too exhausted to have any nightmares. When she left to go back to New York, she wasn't particularly surprised when one night she awoke to her phone ringing, Tyler close to having a full blown panic attack as he tried and failed to reassure himself that she was okay without her help. They would always call each other before bed after that, usually falling asleep over facetime.

[twistersobsessed]

hiii it's bracelet anon again with another thought that's been bouncing around in my head:) hopefully it's distinctive enough from my other request since it still revolves around giving scott stuff

i was thinking that scott is really susceptible to holding anything given to him while his attention is elsewhere, like tapping away on the tablet or talking on the phone, and reader picks up on this. so it turns into a little prank amongst the team that they're constantly handing scott things to see how long until he notices. after a while they start to notice that while he usually discards whatever he was given by other team members, he pockets what reader gives to him. so he ends up with a collection of random things reader has found on the side of the road; small bones, pretty pebbles, buttons, little toys that got flung out of car windows, coins, wildflowers, etc.

thank you for listening to my ramblings<3

Like Penguins | Scott x Reader

A/N: Combined two requests.

Javi started it. He handed Scott his sunglasses to hold while he was tying his shoe. Scott took them without even looking up from the tablet he was working on.

It became a little game amongst the rest of the team, one centered around handing Scott random things to see what he’d take without question.

Today was one of those days where you were all playing the game. James handed Scott an empty soda can. It took Scott ten minutes to notice what he was holding and throw it out. Matt handed Scott a rock. It took Scott fifteen minutes to notice and discard it.

Then it was your turn. You’d found a sick coin on the side of the road earlier. You handed it to Scott and like the others, he didn’t even look at you as he took what you were offering.

It took five minutes for Scott to notice what he was holding. He held it up and to everyone’s shock, smiled, just a little bit. Then he tucked the coin into his pocket.

After that, the experiment changed. It turned into everyone urging you to keep handing Scott things. So you did. It was mostly pretty and cool rocks you’d found, but sometimes it was other things like coins or flowers.

He kept every single thing you gave him.

The team was loving throwing out theories about why. But the consensus was clear; Scott had a soft spot for you.

You almost never rode with Scott. So you were pretty excited when Javi told you you’d be riding with Scott today. Scott was stoically quiet as he drove, only seeming to pay attention to you when you started going through the center console.

You were surprised to find all the rocks and coins and flowers and other little knick knacks that you’d handed him over the last few weeks.

“Snooping is rude,” Scott’s stern voice broke through your surprise.

“You kept it all,” you said quietly.

Scott was embarrassed, refusing to look at you and keeping his eyes glued to the road. “Well, yeah,” he said, like it was obvious. “You gave them to me.”

“Scott…” you reached over the console to place your hand on his arm. Scott swore his brain short-circuited for a moment when you touched him. “Did you know penguins court each other by bringing each other pretty pebbles they find?”

Scott blinked. “I vaguely remember hearing something like that,” he replied.

“So…” you hummed, waiting for him to put it together.

“So… oh. Oh.” He looked at you with wide eyes. You couldn’t quite read the expression on his face.

“Well,” he began. “I’m not a penguin. So I’m just going to ask you out on a proper date.”

“Oh?” You grinned.

“(Name), would you like to have dinner with me?”

“Fuck yeah.”

————————————————————————

Scott drove you into the town of El Reno that weekend to go to a nice restaurant. You wore a pretty, short sun dress that you never got a chance to wear. Scott actually got red in the face when he saw you. It was off the shoulders too, Scott swore his mouth watered.

Scott had made reservations and everything. You noticed at the table once you were seated that he was nervously flipping a coin through his fingers. A coin you had given him.

You reached across the table and placed your hand gently on top of his forearm. “Thank you so much for taking me out, Scott.”

Scott smiled, his fingers slowing. “You deserve it,” he replied simply. The hand that had been playing with the coin tucked it back into his pocket before covering your hand that was on his arm. His hand was so big and warm and completely engulfed your hand. You blushed. “You’re red,” Scott commented with a small smile.

The moment was interrupted by the waitress, who couldn’t stop giving Scott bedroom eyes. It was irritating you. “What can I get for you guys?”

You and Scott pulled apart and looked at your menus. Scott ordered first, the waitress obviously flirting as she complimented his choice and called him “hun.” When she turned to you she lost all cheerful niceness and flatly asked, “And you?”

You grit your teeth and ordered, not adding your usual “thank you.” You only relaxed when the waitress walked away. “Are you okay?” Scott asked, brow furrowed. “You got really tense.” You avoided his eyes. “‘M fine.”

Scott reached across the table and opened his hand. You took his hand, your hand being engulfed once more. He ran his thumb over the back of your hand. “What’s wrong?”

“The waitress is just flirting with you really obviously right in front of me. I’m trying not to let it effect my mood, I’m sorry,” you muttered.

Scott squeezed your hand and you looked up at him. His beautiful blue eyes were intently trained on you. “Don’t apologize, sweetheart. I didn’t even notice she was flirting, I’m sorry.”

“Just watch how she treats you compared to me,” you whispered as the waitress approached, bringing your drinks. “Here you go, honey,” she cooed at Scott, placing his beer in front of him. Then she placed your glass in front of you without even looking away from Scott. “Can I get you anything else?” She asked Scott, completely ignoring you.

Scott looked pointedly at you. “I don’t know, do you want anything else, baby?” He casually dropped the pet name. The waitress finally looked at you with barely concealed disdain. She gave you a fake smile while she waited for your answer. “No,” you said, addressing Scott and not the waitress. “I’m good, honey, thank you.”

The waitress scowled and left.

You smiled. “Thank you.”

Scott looked surprised. “For what?”

“For putting a stop to it.”

Scott chuckled. “Yeah, someone’s not getting a good tip.”

The rest of your dinner went smoothly and that waitress didn’t come back. A different waiter delivered the check. “Let me see.” You reached across the table to try and grab the bill but Scott snatched it away from you. “I’m paying so there’s no need for that.”

You tried to argue but Scott wasn’t having any of it. “This is a date,” he assured you. “I took you out. I pay for dinner.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

Scott offered you his hand as you walked out of the restaurant. You took it, feeling nervous like a school girl around her crush.

The conversation on the ride home was casual and relaxed. You couldn’t help but notice how sexy Scott looked driving.

You pulled into the parking lot of the motel Storm Par was staying at for the night. Scott got out first and as you fumbled with your purse, he opened your car door for you. You weren’t used to this princess treatment.

Scott walked you to your room, and you both stopped outside your door. You looked up at Scott with a shy smile. Scott’s eyes didn’t meet yours though. They were trained a little bit lower. In turn, you dropped your gaze to his lips.

Scott put a hand on the side of your face and leaned down, practically bending over to press his lips to yours. The kiss was short and sweet and left you wanting way more.

“I hope you had fun,” Scott said, sounding unsure for the first time since you’d met him.

“I really did,” you assured him eagerly. “Thank you for taking me out.”

Scott just smiled. “Goodnight, (Name).”

“Goodnight, Scott.”

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Girl Dad! Javier Peña

Girl Dad!Javi who was once terrified to be a dad to daughters, wondering how in the world he could ever be the right person to raise and protect his sweet girls from the dangers of the world he knew all too well

Girl Dad!Javi who hopes that his girls grow up to be just like you- tough, strong and independent

Girl Dad!Javi who loves spoiling his daughters, and will not stop buying them cute outfits and accessories (especially when they're younger) because of how adorable they'll look in them

Girl Dad!Javi who will happily play anything his daughters ask him to- Barbies, princesses, tea parties, unicorns? You name it, he'll do it. He'll even dress for the part, too, just to make his girls giggle when he puts on a tutu and sparkly tiara

Girl Dad!Javi who loves his girl gang so much, he's always asking if you want to have another baby and give your daughters another sister to play with

Girl Dad!Javi who always lets everyone know how much he loves his girls. His friends and co-workers always used to ask him if he wishes he had a son, or if he gets sick of dealing with his daughters, but they learned to stop asking that real fast after Javi gave them an ear full about how much he loved everything about being a girl dad and what a stupid question that was

Girl Dad!Javi who keeps every single piece of artwork his daughters have ever given him. He's got a file folder in his desk overflowing with scribbles of puppies, rainbows, and god knows how much glitter, but he can't bring himself to get rid of anything

Girl Dad!Javi who constantly sings Disney Princess songs to himself, because after the 74th time of watching The Little Mermaid this week, how could they not be

Girl Dad!Javi who learns how to braid so he can help do his daughter's hair before school in the morning. He'll admit, it's not perfect, and he hates those little clear elastics, but he loves getting to spend a little extra one on one time with his girls. He even practices on you when the two of you are hanging out in bed before you go to sleep

Girl Dad!Javi who loves taking his girls to Chucho's ranch to do chores around the farm, teaching them all the in's and out's of how to take care for the animals, use tools, problem solve and work hard. He's also not above bribing them with extra pony rides as incentive to work a little longer

Girl Dad!Javi who shows up to every single practice, game, recital, and school event the girls are apart of, because there is nothing more important to him than making sure his girls know he'll always be there for them.

Girl Dad!Javi who has to remember to not get too upset when his girls give him sass, knowing damn well they inherited all of their stubbornness and strong will from him

Girl Dad!Javi who has absolutely zero tolerance for any misogynistic bullshit he encounters, trying to do what he can to make the world a better place for his daughters to grow up in

Girl Dad!Javi who teaches everything he would have taught to his son to his girls- how to change a tire, mow the lawn, fix things around the house, toss a football, throw a punch, the list goes on and on. He never wants his girls to feel like they need to rely on anyone else to get things done

Girl Dad!Javi who desperately tries to keep up to date on all the things his girls are into, even if it means listening to one too many boy bands on their trips to and from soccer practice (He'll never admit how much he secretly loves One Direction). Not because he necessarily needs his daughters to think he's cool, but because what's important to them is important to him

Girl Dad!Javi who always encourages his daughters to stand up for themselves. Even if they may end up getting in trouble for something questionable, Javi still can't help be proud of the little badasses his girls are

Girl Dad!Javi who tries to act all cool and tough the first time his oldest daughter goes on a date, but has to keep from crying once she leaves, wondering how his little girl has grown up so fast

Girl Dad!Javi who wouldn't trade being a girl dad for anything else in the world, and is so proud of the amazing daughters he's raised with you 🥹

A/N: I will personally fight anyone who doesn't think that Javi is the king of girl dads. You know that man is SUCH a softie and would love his daughters with his whole heart. I will not be taking further questions at this time. Thank you for coming to my TED talk. Long live Girl Dad Javi 🫡

[cowboybeepboop]

Could you do something with Scott and Reader where the reader is a virgin. I like how soft you write Scott. Kate and reader are like sisters and one night while everyone is drinking the topic of sex comes up and Kate let's it slip the reader is a virgin (shes super drunk). The reader is so embarrassed she runs out crying so Scott goes after her. He ask why she never told him and she told him she was scared he wouldn't want her anymore since she was experienced to that Scott tells her that's anything from the truth that he loves her and says when she's ready they can take the next step she tells him she is and has been that he is the first guy she has ever loved and felt safe with enough to take that step. Scott also makes a comment that it's hot and it's sexy she's a virgin and a turn on. Feel free to add to the idea or take things away to make it make sense.

Pairing: Scott Miller x fem! Reader

Genre: Smut, fluffy and romantic

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: Virgin reader, possessive/jealous scott, oral fem receiving, unprotected sex.

a/n: Not gonna lie, I just now realized you said “like” sisters and not just sisters, but I’ve decided to leave it anyway. I hope you enjoy! As always my requests are open <3

You and Scott have been dating for a few months. And he has made *no* effort to make any moves sexually, other than some hand stuff here and there in recent times. On the one hand, this comes as a relief because you’re still a virgin (something he isn't exactly aware of) but at the same time you really wish he would take things to the next level.

As Kate's younger, more outgoing sister, she's always made an effort to keep you away from her friends. Not wanting you to get involved with anyone romantically, unfortunately her plan failed when it came to Scott. She has been a little less than supportive of this relationship since she doesn't want to see him break your heart and doesn't want it to affect her friend group.

While you understand Kate’s wariness, you feel exhausted with her obsessive worry. It first started when she introduced you to Javi, perhaps because you immediately started to crush on him.

Either way, you’ve completely involved yourself in her friend group, regardless of her disdain for it. The two of you have a rocky sibling relationship at times, but it usually doesn't come up/out in front of your friends.

Today, however, things have been different. You're all hanging out at Tylers place, playing games and drinking. The tension between you and Kate has been building after an argument you had earlier regarding your relationship with Scott.

Kate has been frustrated with you for dating him, even though she had told you not to get romantically involved with any of her friends. You get why but at the same time it's not like you can control who you fall for, right?

“Hey, Y/N?” Scott presses his hand to your shoulder, “Is everything okay?” he shakes you out of your thoughts.

“Hm?” you turn to look up at him with a dazed smile. “Oh, yeah everythings fine, I was just lost in thought.” Scott is slightly amused at how distracted you are, he finds your spacey nature endearing. He takes a seat next to you, a smirk on his lips.

He can tell that something is bothering you, he raises an eyebrow, a little doubtful of your half-truth. His thumb gently strokes the skin of your upper arm idly. “What’re you thinkin’ about, ‘sweetheart’?”

“Nothing important,” your smile grows as you lean into Scotts warm body, “I’ll tell you later.” He chuckles as you practically curl up on him, he finds it adorable how clingy you get. He drapes an arm over your shoulder, pulling you in closer as he gives you a smirk, he can tell that something's off.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just lets his hand wander to your waist. “Is that right? It doesn’t have anything to do with that little argument you got into with Kate…?” you groan.

“You know me too well.” you sigh, hand falling to his thigh, fingers rubbing soft patterns into his leg.

His eyes follow your fingers and he lets out a soft sigh, his mind drifting to other places. He gives you a slight nudge. “Cmon, talk. What was the argument about?” you shake your head in protest.

“I don’t wanna talk about it right now,” you pout your lips at him, chin resting on his chest. His eyes lock in on your lips, he gently cups your chin, his thumb softly stroking your lower lip.

Kate can't help but hear the conversation from a separate table where she's sitting and talking with Tyler. Her eyes drift over to you and Scott, watching the two of you sitting pretty close together. She gets annoyed, watching the way you're clinging to Scott and leaning into him.

She frowns, turning to Tyler who's watching her and you with a raised eyebrow. "You know, it might do you some good to just chill out. Let her have a little freedom." You glance over at Kate and Tyler, seeing her stern stare causes you to straighten in your seat, pulling away from Scott ever so slightly.

Boone’s loud voice breaks up all the side conversations, “We should all play truth or dare.” he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

Kate lets out a groan, "We're not teenagers." Scott frowns and gives your waist a gentle squeeze. He can tell that you’re pulling away from him because of Kate. He really doesn’t like her meddling in your relationship, when it so obviously isn't her concern.

Boone smiles, "Just cause we're not teens doesn't mean we can't have *fun*."

Kate rolls her eyes, despite her reservations she does think it could be a fun game. She's already a little bit drunk from the couple of beers she's had yet she continues sipping on one.

“It really could be fun,” you grin at Boone, encouraging his proposition.

"See, someone gets me." he smiles back at you.

Tyler is also on board for the game, he grabs another drink. "Alright, I'm game. Should we do dares or no dares?"

Kate thinks for a second, she isn't in the mood to do some stupid dare. "No dares, just truths." you roll your eyes at her boring suggestion, everyone knows the dares are the best part of the game.

As the game draws on the conversation drifts to everyone's worst experiences and first times. Kate can see how quiet and anxious you're getting as everyone starts to share their experiences. She's also dreading someone will ask her to spill some of her secrets. You're starting to get restless in your seat, heart pounding fast as you pray no one asks you anything about sex.

Boone seems to be a little annoyed at how no one has been asked anything difficult yet and turns to Kate. "Alright, Kate. Your turn, when did you lose your virginity?" As Boone asks his question Kate can see your eyes on her.

She finishes off the last of her beer and is starting to feel more than just tipsy and a little bit out of it. She's trying to avoid spilling any of her own secrets and takes her time before answering. Javi, noticing her discomfort, turns to ask you a question.

"Hey, Y/N. What about you? When did yo-" Javi is cut off as Kate abruptly interrupts him, a little tipsy.

"She's a *virgin*." Your cheeks turn a dark red as the words leave her mouth. You can feel all the eyes on you, most importantly, Scotts eyes on you.

Scott can’t help the way his eyes widen as Katie blurts out that you’re a virgin. *Of course* he had his suspicions, but they were just suspicions, it’s why he's so cautious about taking things further. But now, now he knows it’s true.

Scott can feel your body tense and his hand on your waist clenches involuntarily. The words ring through his mind as he processes it. “You’re… a virgin…?”

You abruptly stand off the couch, Scotts hand falling from your body as you glare over at your sister. “What the fuck Kate?” tears begin to pool in your eyes as you glare at her before quickly leaving the house.

The rest of the group stays quiet after your exit, not quite sure what just happened. Scott jumps to his feet and dashes out the door after you. He knows he has to do damage control fast, he has to make sure you don’t take this to heart.

He steps outside, the cool air making the blood rush to his cheeks as he spots you near the edge of the porch. “Hey, Sweetheart?”

You don't respond, instead you bury your face into your hands, body trembling as you silently sob. “Hey, hey… ” Scott reaches you quickly and pulls you into his arms. He can feel your shaking, he can see the way your shoulders are shuddering and it makes his heart ache.

He pulls you onto his lap as he takes a seat on the steps of the porch, his hands are gently rubbing your back, trying to soothe you as he pulls you in tighter. “Don’t cry… sweetheart, don’t cry…”

You hide your face in his chest, “I’m sorry,” you murmur, voice muffled by his shirt.

“Hey, don’t apologize. There’s nothing to apologize for.” Scott gently takes your chin with his hand and lifts you up to look at him. He can see the trail of tears running down your cheeks. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You avert your gaze, eyes lowering. “I…” your words get stuck in your throat as more tears spill from your eyes.

“Hey, look at me,” he grips your chin a little tighter, forcing you to look at him, “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks again, more sternly this time. He’s not angry with you, he’s just confused, a hundred thoughts all running through his head.

“I just, *really* liked you,” you begin, eyes searching his, “and I thought that you wouldn't want me if you knew I was..” your voice breaks as you speak.

Scott gently strokes your cheek with his thumb, wiping away the tears, “Sweetheart, look at me, I’m going to ask you something and I need you to be honest with me, alright?”

“Okay..” you bite down on your lips, worried about what he’s going to ask. “What is it?” you hiccup, cheeks still flushed with your embarrassment.

Scott takes a moment to collect his thoughts, he chooses his words carefully. “Are you… saving yourself…?” He’s pretty sure you’ll catch his drift.

“I, no,” you start, trying to find the words to explain, “I’ve just never. You know, felt like it was the right time..” you trail off.

Scott nods slowly, his eyes scanning your face as his thumb moves to the corner of your lip. His mind is still processing all of this information, and now he just has even more questions. “Have you ever even kissed someone before me?”

“A few times,” you murmur, hands moving to his sides.

Scott furrows his eyebrows, his head tilted curiously as he looks at you. “How far have you gone with other guys?”

You groan, pressing your head to his shoulder, embarrassed with the question. “I’ve uhm, you know..” you trail your fingers up and down his back, “I’ve done hand stuff and other things.” you whisper.

“Things like…?” Scott can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy as you start to tell him about your past.

“Scott,” you breathe out his name with a soft whine.

Scott’s hand on your back clenches involuntarily at the way you whine his name. He can sense your hesitation. “C’mon sweetheart, tell me more.”

“Well, I’m not entirely inexperienced.” you sigh, “Like I’ve done oral too.. Just never actual sex..”

Scott’s heart clenches as you confess this information. His mind starts to wander to thoughts of you with other guys. “How many guys have you done these things with?”

“A few..” you keep your answer vague, unwilling to let him know all the details.

Scott can clearly tell you’re uncomfortable discussing these topics with him, and the thought of you with other guys has him almost upset. He clears his throat, trying to get the image of you in some other guy's arms out of his head.

“Okay, enough questions, let's get out of here.” He slowly stands up, “I’m taking you home.” you nod and follow him to his car, settling into the passenger seat as he starts the engine.

Scott starts the drive back to your house, the ride is mostly silent as he’s still thinking everything over. He tries to steal a glance at you a few times, still processing everything that just happened.

After a few minutes, Scott breaks the silence. “Sweetheart, can I ask you something?”

“Mhm,” you turn to face him, “Ask away.”

Scott’s quiet for a moment, his eyes focused on the road. “You’ve never… wanted to…?” Scott trails off as he struggles to phrase the question.

Your hand finds its way to his lap, “Do you mean in general?” your gaze going out the window, “Or with you?”

“With me…” Scott feels your hand on his lap and it makes his heart skip a beat for a moment. He glances over at you, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

He pulls into your driveway, the tension in the cab growing with every second you stay quiet “Scott..”

Scott slowly parks the car and turns to you. His eyes lock on yours, his heart beating fast as he waits for the answer to his question. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

Your fingers trace circles into his thigh, hand growing closer to his crotch. “I’ve only ever thought about going all the way with you..” you whisper the last part, cheeks turning pink with the confession.

Scott's breath catches in his chest as your fingers trace closer and closer, his mind races with the information you've just given him. The words you whisper send a shiver down his spine, and he can't help but watch your hand. "You... you thought about it?"

“I’ve thought about it,” you confirm, “You're the first guy I’ve ever loved..” you gulp, this is the first time you’ve uttered the word to him.

Scott's mind reels as he processes your words. This is the first time you’ve confessed your feelings to him. He swallows the lump forming in his throat, his heart beating faster with every passing second as a warm feeling settles in his chest.

He reaches down and gently grabs your hand, stilling it from its wandering. His voice is low and gravelly as he speaks, “Say it again.”

“Scott, I love you.” His breath hitches and he closes his eyes for a moment, soaking in the sound of your voice. He opens his eyes and looks over at you, gaze filled with warmth and affection.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” he softly tugs you closer to him, his hand gently cupping your chin and guiding your lips to his. The kiss quickly turns heated as you move to straddle his lap, hands tangling in his hair.

Scott moans into your mouth, his arms wrapping around your waist as you straddle his lap. His hands glide up and under your shirt, feeling the skin between your hips and your ribs. He feels the heat coursing through his veins as you tangle your hands in his hair, tugging just slightly and he bites your bottom lip in response, a stifled gasp escaping his lips.

Your lips move to his neck, pressing hot kisses into his skin as his fingers send shivers down your spine. Scott groans as you move to his neck, his head tilting back giving you more access as your hot lips work over the skin.

His fingers trail up to the base of your spine, lightly tracing up and down in slow motions, feeling the bumps of your spine under his fingertips. His breaths come out raspy and uneven, his breathing quickening as you kiss along his collarbone.

“Scott, should we go inside?” you murmur between kisses, feeling his hand slip into your shorts.

Scott’s mind is so clouded with desire that he has to take a moment to register your words. He can feel your lips moving against his skin and his breath hitches as your words finally register in his mind. “Yeah, yeah… let’s go inside…”

He gently sets you back in your seat and hops out of the car, almost tripping on his feet in his haste to get to your side of the car and open the door for you. You smile at him as you get out, taking his hand as you lead him to your door and unlock it.

Scott follows you inside your house, his heart still racing and body buzzing with heat. He closes the door behind him as soon as you step inside.

Scott steps up behind you, hands finding their way to your sides as he nuzzles his face into your neck, his hot breath on your skin. You press back into him, guiding his hands down your sides, silently asking him to take things further.

Scott’s breath hitches as you press into him, his hands skimming over your hips and down to your thighs. He leaves a trail of hot kisses along the side of your neck, his teeth gently grazing against your skin.

He spins you around, pushing your back against the door as he moves to press his body flush against you, his hands moving to grip your hips. “You’re driving me crazy, sweetheart…” he whispers into your ear.

“Scott, please.” you moan out, hands going to unbutton his jeans, “I need you,”

Scott stumbles back as you start to unbutton his jeans, his hands roaming over your body, desperate to feel you. The thought of you *needing* him sends a shot of heat straight to his core and he groans, pushing you towards your room.

His hands move desperately over your body as you walk, discarding clothes in a messy trail behind you. Sitting down on the edge of your bed, you unclasp your bra, making you entirely nude in front of him. You look up at him, eyes full of lust and desire.

Scott is completely captivated as you sit down and finally reveal yourself to him. His eyes trail up and down your body, taking in every inch of your skin. He can feel his heart beating faster in his chest, his breath quickening as his eyes roam over your body.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he mutters, his voice husky with desire. He takes a step towards you, his hands reaching out to touch you, to feel your soft skin.

A low growl escapes his lips as he moves to kneel between your legs, his hands roaming over your body, tracing every contour. You spread your legs wider for him, welcoming his movements as you moan at his needy hands.

Scott settles between your legs, his hands roaming up your thighs, feeling the skin as he looks up at you. His eyes are almost black with desire as he looks up at you from his position between your legs. He swallows, his throat dry as he takes in the sight of you, spread out on the bed before him.

His hands move up to your hips, gripping them and pulling you closer to him, his thumbs tracing small circles into your skin. “You’re so perfect, sweetheart.” he says, his voice low and rough.

Your fingers tangle in his hair as you move your hips closer to him, “Please, I need you..” you bite on your lip.

With trembling hands, he gently pushed your legs apart, his gaze never leaving yours. The sight of you, laying bare before him, sent a rush of heat to his cheeks and a thrill through his body. He leaned in, his breath hot against your inner thighs as he whispered, "I've been waiting for this."

His voice was a mix of excitement and nerves, a testament to the importance of this moment. The soft caress of his tongue on your skin was like an electric shock, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

He took his time, savoring every inch of you with the finesse of a man who'd been waiting for this moment for a lifetime. His kisses grew more urgent as he found your sweet spot, making you gasp and arch your back. You could feel his passion, his need to make this first time perfect for you.

As he tasted you, Scott felt as if he'd found home. Each moan and whimper from your lips was like a symphony to his ears, guiding him in his exploration. His hands held you firmly, supporting your hips as he devoured you, eager to give you the pleasure that had been building between you both for so long.

Your legs wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as the intensity grew, your body begging for more. He could feel you getting closer, the tension in your muscles tightening as you approached the edge.

His mouth worked faster, his tongue flicking and sucking with purpose. You were so wet, so ready for him, and the thought of finally being inside you was almost too much to bear. But he didn't rush, not wanting to miss a single second of this intimate dance.

And then, with a sharp cry, you fell over the edge, your body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. Scott held you firmly, his mouth never leaving your sex, as he drew out every last tremor of your orgasm.

You collapsed against the bed, limp and trembling, your nails digging into his scalp as you tried to process the intensity of what had just happened.

He kissed his way up your body, his hands gliding over your skin as he moved over you, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

His eyes searched yours for permission, and finding it, he settled between your legs once more, his erection pressing against your entrance. You were so sensitive now, so open to him. "Are you sure about this Y/N?" His voice is husky and full of caution.

"Fuck, yes, please." You moan, begging for more. He pushed in gently, feeling the resistance of your body as it clung to its innocence. You gasped, your eyes widening with a mix of pain and pleasure.

Scott paused, waiting for you to adjust, to tell him if you needed him to stop. But you just nodded, urging him on with a whisper, "More." So he did, inch by inch, filling you up until he was fully sheathed within you. The connection was overwhelming, a bond stronger than any he'd ever felt.

He started to move, his hips rocking slowly, giving you time to get used to the feeling of him inside you. You moaned, your hands gripping the bed sheets as he picked up the pace. Each stroke sent a jolt of electricity through you, making your toes curl and your back arch. He watched your face intently, reading every expression, making sure he was giving you what you needed.

Scott leaned down to kiss you, his mouth hungry and desperate as he claimed yours. The room was filled with the sound of your ragged breaths and the wet slap of skin on skin.

He could feel your muscles tightening around him, your body preparing for another release. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear, telling you how much he loved you, how perfect you were, how much he needed this.

You moaned against his mouth, your nails digging into his back as the pleasure grew. "Scott," you breathed, "You're so hot." The words slipped out without thought, but the truth was undeniable.

His body was a work of art, and having him take your virginity was the most erotic experience you could imagine. He pulled back to look at you, his eyes dark and intense.

"You have no idea how much I love you," he whispered, his voice filled with passion. "It’s such a turn on for me to be the one claiming you like this." He thrust deeper, making you gasp. "Only me, sweetheart."

You could feel the heat building between you, your body tightening around him as he hit that perfect spot over and over again. His words sent shivers down your spine, the realization that he truly cared for you and was just as invested in this moment as you were.

It was more than just sex; it was a declaration of love, a promise of forever. Scott's pace grew faster, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he felt his own climax approaching. "You're mine," he growled, his teeth sinking into your neck as he claimed you. "All mine."

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as you felt yourself teetering on the brink. "I love you," you whispered, your voice breaking with emotion.

With a final, powerful thrust, Scott released inside you, his body shaking with the force of his orgasm. You followed quickly, your own pleasure crashing over you like a wave, leaving you trembling and gasping for air.

He collapsed on top of you, his weight comforting and reassuring as your hearts hammered together. The room was quiet except for your heavy breaths and the sound of your hearts beating as one. He kissed your neck, his hands never leaving your body as you both came down from the intense high.

You nodded, unable to form words as the gravity of the moment settled over you. You'd given him something precious, something no one else would ever have. And in return, he'd given you an experience that would be burned into your memory forever.

As you lay there, sweat-soaked and utterly spent, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace. Despite Kate's earlier betrayal, you knew that this was where you were meant to be, in Scott's arms, sharing something beautiful and life-changing.

Scott pulled out slowly, his eyes never leaving yours as he looked at you with a mix of love and awe. He leaned over to kiss you softly, his hand cupping your cheek.

You gave him a small smile, your eyes shining with unshed tears of pleasure. "Thank you," you murmur, "For making it so perfect."

He kissed you again, a gentle brush of his lips against yours. "It's only the beginning, sweetheart." He stood up, pulling you with him to tuck you into bed, your bodies still entwined.

You snuggled closer, feeling safe and loved. For the first time in a long time, you felt like everything was going to be okay. Kate's cruelty was forgotten in the face of Scott's gentle touch and the warmth of his love. Tonight, you had found your place in the world, and it was in his arms.

[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want: Part 3.5 - Jake POV

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Warnings: This chapter is written in first-person (warning you now so don't come for me later if it bothers you pretty please) Judgment related to weight. Cursing. Fluff. Angst. Eventual smut (alluded to/or other). Self-esteem issues.

Note: These Jake POV chapters are not necessary to read to understand or follow with the rest of the story!

Words: 1115 (i told ya it'd be shorter)

The One I Want Masterlist

Jake:

“If she doesn’t end up going for you, send her my way,” Javy whispers so only I can hear. 

Turning sharply, I whack him upside the head. I tell myself it's mostly so Javy stops looking at you the way he is, but I know it’s also a way to release my frustration at realizing my brain is only the slightest bit faster than my instincts. My brain just barely held me back from instinctually snapping ‘mine’ the second you walked into the place and I saw the look on my friend’s face. But thankfully it did. Because you’re not mine. Not really. Not at all. 

You don’t notice the smack, and Nat and Bradley have seen the same interaction enough to know it’s not genuine. Although, this time I can’t fully say that it isn’t. Their eyes find you and you blush under all four pairs; mine included, of course, since I can’t seem to manage to keep them off of you anyway. I don’t try anymore. 

“H-Hi,” you say with a lick of nerves. 

The look on your face screams ‘too much; too many people; too many eyes’, and I would instantly feel like an ass if it weren’t for the fact that when you agreed to meet them, you seemed happy about it. After a month and a half, you were finally willing to learn more about my life, integrate yourself into my world, and I wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass me by. But seeing you now, in the aftermath of putting my excitement above your anxiety, the guilt creeps up on me. 

“It’s good to see you again,” Nat says, carefully wiping away the deer-in-headlights expression off your face. Your shoulders settle and, albeit tentatively, you smile. The same smile I thought I would’ve grown immune to by now, but no. It still kicks my heart into overdrive in a way no other has. 

And that’s the problem. That’s the thing not allowing me to surrender in my efforts to open you up to me. I just want more; crave it; each day contemplate how I can coax new pieces of you to the surface. 

There was a brief period in those first three days when I prayed that what I saw in you was merely a challenge. A beautiful woman who doesn’t want me is rare, as ridiculously vain as it is to say. But it’s the truth. I know the game of cat and mouse well. The playful back and forth that inevitably ends up with the woman in my bed. And damn, did I want to play. But what I had allowed myself to assume was a need to conquer grew into genuine interest. It grew so quickly, in such an all-consuming manner, that I didn’t know what to do with myself. 

I still don’t. 

Instead, I act on impulse, and that usually leaves me doing what I must, asking what I must, to get to know you. At times, successfully. Others, not so much. Never before has the phrase ‘one step forward, two steps back’ applied so heavily to my life. 

You ease yourself into the kitchen and Javy takes it upon himself to give you his name and wrap you up in a hug; muscled arms irritatingly just barely bigger than mine squeezing you tight. It’s returned, though much less enthusiastically. 

When his arms have been around you far too long for my liking, my fingers fist in the back of his shirt and tug until he releases you. 

“I’m Bradley,” my final friend—potentially my new best friend if Javy keeps his shit up—offers with a wave.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” you reply.

I feel my lips curve all on their own at the rising confidence in your voice. You entered, took a moment to adjust to the room and the people occupying it, and then found your footing. A familiar adapt-to-survive skill I am slowly learning you possess. 

My friends smile, then look at me. Which is fair, considering the silence filling the room is my fault. I told them not to ask you too many questions. Not to pry into your past. Not to be too curious about your plans while you’re in the area. I left them with nothing and nowhere to go.

“How was your morning,” I ask. 

“Good actually. I got a job.”

I stand a little straighter. “You did?” 

I know I'm coming off a little too eager at that information, but it’s the first indication you’ve given that says you intend to stick around for a while. So far, you’ve not made an effort to find friends, you haven’t bought yourself anything that can’t fit in a backpack, and, until now, hadn’t found a job. It was a developing pattern that kept me in a state of wondering if I’ll wake one morning to find you gone. But if you got yourself a job then that has to be a good sign of things to come. 

You nod. “It’s not much. Just cashier at the gift shop across from the beach, but at least I’ll be able to start paying you for last month's rent.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. You don’t have to pay me,” I say. Because it’s true. Having you around, knowing I come home to someone every day, is enough. And the reality of it is, I don’t need the money. 

With a raised brow, Nat smirks, and I wonder if it’s too obvious. If I’m too obvious. 

“I’m paying you, Jake,” you state with an edge of harshness that has ‘two steps back’ repeating in my brain. And before I can think to argue with you, you’ve muttered something about taking a shower and have disappeared into your room. 

When I look back to the small group at the side, my brows dip in irritation. Nat is still smirking. Bradley is shaking his head. And Javy’s lips are pinched tight to hold in a laugh threatening to burst. 

I sigh as I lean my weight against the countertop of the kitchen island. “What?” 

“‘Oh, don’t worry. You don’t have to pay me,’” Bradley mocks in a voice much higher pitched than mine. 

“You’re making fun of me for being nice?”

“No, No,” he corrects, glancing between Nat and Javy before once again meeting the glare in my eyes. “It’s just interesting. It was only two months ago that you were expecting Brit to pay rent and she had your dick inside of her a few times a week. She never even got a discount, but this chick lives here for nothing.”

A beat passes. 

Then Javy’s laugh finally breaks free. 

---

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @rosiahills22 @oliviah-25 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace

[loquaciousferret]

Little Games

Summary: Agent Peña reaches breaking point after your not-so-subtle teasing around the office, deciding to teach you a lesson you won't be quick to forget.

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Content Warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, degradation, name-calling, rough unprotected sex, semi-public sex, orgasm denial, Javi being mean. As always- maybe more! Read at own risk

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: Javi pulled me out of my Joel thots today, enjoy this short piece of filth

MINORS DO NOT PRESS KEEP READING

“Cut the shit!” Javi’s palm slams into the wall behind your head.

You could see how the man would be terrifyingly intimidating, if this hadn’t been your goal all along.

“What’s wrong, agent?” You gaze back at him innocently with wide eyes, his cock twitching just at the sight.

“Don’t give me that.” He snaps, grabbing your wrist and pinning it against the wall after you had tried to reach out and push his chest back lightly to create space between you.

You blinked. You wouldn’t give in yet.

“Just admit it.” He hisses through gritted teeth, “You may be stupid but not too stupid to know what you’re doing.”

You can barely keep a straight face, it’s practically painful trying to hold back the defiant smirk that wants to creep its way onto your lips.

“I’m sorry Agent, don’t you think I’m doing a good job?” You said, holding on to the pretence a little longer.

“Cut the act.” His tone is menacing. “You know you do a great job, staying late whenever I do, doing my paperwork faster than any of the other agents just so you can come back and see me sooner. Hovering around me in those ridiculously short skirts, driving me crazy. Maybe HR should talk to you like a grown up about professional dress codes.”

“You don’t like how I dress?” You said, playing dumb for him.

“Shut the fuck up.” He gripped your jaw and tilted your face up to him.

“Is this a game to you?”

Involuntarily, your tongue darts out to lick your lips. He can’t bear to look at you any longer and spins you round so you face the wall.

“I’m gonna teach you a lesson.” His hand was roughly separating your thighs, spreading your legs forcefully. “Maybe you’ll learn not to start something if you don’t plan on finishing it.”

You moaned as one of his large hands started to put pressure on your already wet pussy, through your thin underwear. He pushed it aside and thrusted two fingers inside you roughly. You gasped and he hissed at you to “Cierra el Pico.”

Of course he had seen you coming from a mile away that morning, wearing a black pencil skirt that barely grazed your mid thigh, and a white blouse under your blazer that clearly showed the outline of your lace bra. Most of the department were away at an incident, and management had been scheduled in with the President. Being a secretary, you knew everyone’s schedules, and you knew today was the perfect day to take your little game with Agent Peña up a notch. He would already be in a bad mood, frustrated that he had been benched while most of the other agents were out potentially getting into some action today. You used this existing frustration to your advantage and that’s how you ended up here right under his grasp where you had wanted to be all along.

You heard him unbuckling his belt with his free hand and you shuddered with excitement. He removed his fingers from inside you and gripped your panties, pulling them down your legs roughly. You stepped out of them when they hit your ankles and he picked them up, stuffing them into his pocket. You smirked, suspecting that he wouldn’t return them following this encounter.

He pressed on your upper back, folding you more so that your ass stuck out and your chest was pressed to the wall. Your breathing faltered as he slid his erection through your wet folds and lined himself up with your entrance. He pushed into you with no mercy and you whined, unprepared after using his fingers on you for such a short time.

“I thought I told you to shut up.” He sneered.

He immediately set a punishingly harsh pace, pressing you hard into the wall as you held both your hips, guiding you back onto his cock to increase the force of each rough thrust of his cock.

You chewed on your lip to silence your moans of pleasure, there was only one locked door between yourself and Javier and a corridor that could contain government officials at any moment.

“Is this what you thought would happen when you started your little game, huh?” He goaded, continuing to slam into you harshly.

You couldn’t come up with anything clever to say in response, overwhelmed by the intense pleasure he was giving you.

“You can dress up and pretend to be whoever you want but look at you now, huh. Just a whore under all those fancy clothes as soon as someone sticks their cock inside you.”

“Only you, Sir.” You manage to get out, releasing a stifled moan.

He scoffs at that but the intensity of his thrusts somehow increased, as if the idea turned him on even more. If this wasn’t him at his worst then you didn’t think you would be able to handle whatever that would feel like.

He kept one hand on your hip but moved the other round your front to play with your clit, rubbing and applying pressure in circles around the sensitive spot.

“Do you think you deserve to cum?” He challenged.

You nodded, unable to speak for fear of crying out in pleasure.

“Really? After all that teasing? You think I should make you feel good?” He chuckled.

“I think I’d rather leave you frustrated all day, let you play with yourself tonight and wish it was me touching you.”

You whined, “Please, Javi-“

“Listen to yourself,” He taunted, and you could hear his smirk. “Willing to beg for it, you little whore.”

As soon as your orgasm started to build, your legs stiffening and your pussy clenching around him, he removed his fingers from your clit.

You whined at the loss of contact and he laughed and tutted, “This is what happens when you try and involve me in your slutty little games.”

He went quiet then, done taunting you and instead focussed on chasing his own release, slamming his cock into you as deep as it could go, your warm tight cunt getting him closer to his orgasm with every single thrust.

“Gonna fill you with my cum, remind you all day what I did to you.”

You nodded, whining, your pleasure reaching an absolute high.

After a few more thrusts, his pace faltered, and you felt his warm release inside you as he grunted, stilling inside you while he caught his breath.

He pulled out of you and you felt his load trickling down your inner thigh slowly.

“Make yourself presentable.” He ordered as he tucked his cock back inside his jeans and refastened his belt. “And leave me alone, I have more important things to do today than deal with you.”

He unlocked the door and slipped out of the disused file room back into the office. Your mind was already whirring, planning on how you could get him to do this to you again.

[sorchathered]

Break my heart again 🖤

Pairing- Jake “Hangman” Seresin x reader

Warnings- language, angst, Jake being an idiot, Bradley being a douchebag

Summary- Jake broke your heart and regrets it more than he can say, what happens when he sees you again but you’ve moved on? Or have you?

Jake Seresin could be a real son of a bitch. He knew it, everyone around him knew it, and after he broke your heart that rainy September night you knew it too. It played out like a bad romcom, “it’s not you it’s me, I’m just not ready to commit” all the pathetic vague bullshit that really just meant that he wanted to be able to be single and hang out with the boys instead of being “tied down” to you. It hurt, especially when it felt like it came out of nowhere. You had been thinking of forever, and apparently he’d been looking for an escape route. So you did what any heartbroken girl would do, got a new look, drank too much with the girls and blocked him from every social media you could.

That was nearly 4 years and two duty stations ago, all of Jake’s drinking buddies had grown up and had families, and now he was on the outside looking in a very different window. Longing for something he should have held on to, knowing it was too little too late.

He’d been back in California for almost a month, the special detachment had become permanent and it looked like the Dagger Squad was here to stay. He was in his own head while everyone headed out for the day, Coyote finally breaking him from his trance with his suggestion to meet everyone at the Hard Deck for dinner and drinks, a couple of the guys' families had made the move to Miramar and it would be a full house. Jake agreed, still in a fog but at least pretending to be interested in the prospect of meeting everyone.

Every night at the bar seemed to go the same these days, he’d drink a few beers, beat the brakes off everyone in darts, and take some pretty girl home only to kick her out in the morning. It was getting sad if he was honest, he hadn’t planned to be nearly 35 and alone, he figured he’d have a wife and at least a kid by now, he was tired of feeling sorry for himself. He needed to stop this endless cycle of bachelorhood, something had to change. He grabbed his beer from Penny and made his way to the pool tables, jolted from his pity party by the sound of the prettiest laugh he’d ever heard. He knew that laugh, hell it had haunted him for far too long. His eyes scanned the area, frantically searching for the face it belonged to, when there you were. Long hair in loose waves down your back, in a red sundress that could make a supermodel jealous, and your arms wrapped around none other than Bradley Bradshaw himself.

It was like all the air had been sucked out of the room, it was too hot and too loud, Jake felt like his skin was suddenly too tight for his body and he couldn’t seem to school his face to at least look normal. Javy’s wife Britt caught on that something was off, Jake was standing at the entrance of the pool area with his eyes wide and mouth gaping, so she kicked her husbands foot and ushered him to figure out what had his friend so shaken up.

But when he looked at Jake��s field of vision he knew, Bradshaw’s girl had looked familiar when they’d walked in but he couldn’t place her until now. He’d known you were Jake’s biggest regret, and he imagined seeing you in the arms of his biggest rival, probably stung like a bitch. He calmly made his way over, grasping his friend by the elbow and pivoting him towards the side exit, the night air would help, and maybe he could get him to spill his guts in the process.

Fuck this was a nightmare, he’d been thinking of you more and more lately these days, and seeing you in Rooster’s arms was enough to make him nearly throw up the contents of his stomach. He’d never felt this unsure of himself in his life and this was the final nail in the coffin. Coyote was worried, Hangman was never off his game, always the most cocksure bastard you’d ever met whether it be in the air or on the ground but this version of him was someone he’d never seen.

“Man come on, you gotta level with me. Was that y/n back there? I know that’s a sucker punch Seresin but you can’t let this drown you, it’s been what? Almost 4 years? You can’t seriously still be hung up on this” he shook his head in disbelief, his best friend had a wild reputation as a Casanova but somehow 30 seconds around this one girl had knocked him to his knees.

“She was everything. Everything you could hope for if you wanted to start a real lasting relationship and I tanked it before we even had a chance. I wanted to fuck around and sow my oats, what the fuck did that even do for me?! I’ve got nothing at home to keep my going, no one to miss me when I’m gone, and now she’s with fucking Bradshaw? Jesus. I don’t know if I can do this tonight man, I think I’m just gonna head out.” He smacks Javy on the arm and heads out to the lot, hating the sympathetic look he knows he’s getting from his friend.

Back in the bar everyone has noticed Jake’s abrupt exit, especially you. Leaning in to press his lips to your ear Bradley says “Well that took less time than I thought, you sure have got him twisted up honey.” He’s grinning, the little shit stirrer, and while you had expected more of a reaction you knew you were in for it when Jake finally got his head on straight.

You’d met Rooster in Japan, working as a medic while he was on a rotation around six months before. It had been a fun friends with benefits situation, no strings and while you couldn’t deny that the sex was phenomenal you were still in the mindset of settling down. Bradley knew that and had told you whenever you were ready to cut things off he’d respect it, you were a good friend and great company but he wasn’t marriage material and he knew it. So when he’d headed back to California and found out that not only was Hangman there, but that you were still hung up on him he had a golden opportunity. Fuck with Jake a little, and maybe get you your happily ever after, it made perfect sense to him even if you thought he was crazy for suggesting it. You couldn’t deny that it was working, Jake had been rattled and ran for the hills, maybe Rooster’s plan wasn’t so half brained after all.

Bradley made it his mission to irritate Jake as much as possible the following week, making sure to let everyone in his radius know he was taking lunch to his girlfriend, loudly answering your phone calls, even dropping flowers off at your office one day. It was maddening, Jake felt like he’d been deflated, he couldn’t even bring himself to string together a sentence when you were around not to mention how much you being around was affecting his ego.

He still hadn’t spoken to you since you saw him at the hard deck, you were so frustrated, you’d really thought he’d come show his ass and the two of you would have it out but it was almost like he didn’t even care you were here. You were so in your head as you headed for the elevator that you ran smack into a warm wall of muscle, dropping your files and your bag. “Oh shit I’m so sorry, I wasn’t even looking are you o-“ you cut off as you looked right into the pretty green eyes of your ex.

“Hey, yeah I’m ok, you alright? Here let me help you” he made quick work of gathering your stuff, accidentally brushing your hand as he handed you one of the files. You knew he felt it too by the sharp intake of breath, just being around each other was enough to bring it all back, it made you want to climb him like a tree and beg him to take you back. You were far too stubborn for that so you stepped away from him like his touch had set you on fire, for someone so uninterested in your presence he certainly looked offended by the action, brows creased with that pesky forehead vein poking out that you always used to pick on him for.

This was awkward, you’re not his anymore but being this close to you may drive him insane. Your perfume is the same, your hair is a little lighter but it suited you, and you looked so damn beautiful, just like you always had. He needed to say something, just staring at you was going to freak you out but he couldn’t find the words. Jesus when did he get so weird?! He muttered out a “see you later” and started to head back down the hall, but you grabbed his hand at the last second, yanking him back towards you.

“Ok what gives?! You’ve been so weird since I got here, I know things ended badly with us but you left me remember?”

“Oh trust me sweets, I remember. Biggest fucking mistake of my life.”

“I’m sorry…what?” He had to be fucking with you, this wasn’t what you expected at all.

“I did leave, and it’s the worst thing I’ve ever done. Fuck y/n I think it about it every damn day, I was stupid and thought I wanted to party my life away, all it left me with was a broken heart and an empty house. I know you’re with Bradshaw now so we shouldn’t even be talking like this-“

“I’m not with Bradley.” You blurted out. “I mean we dated for a little while but he knew how much you hurt me and couldn’t help himself. He certainly knows how to get under your skin.”

“Yeah well, I probably deserve it.” He said as he ran his hand over his face.

“You do” you said with a grin, but noticed he hadn’t let go of your hand.

“So you’re saying that you’re single then?” He said with his smug grin, all it took was knowing he had a chance to bring back the Hangman persona, you shook your head with a laugh, he was already reeling you in. “Yeah, yeah it looks like. Who’s asking?” He chuckled as he pulled you closer, hooking a finger under your chin.

“I am baby, and if I have it my way you won’t be for long.”

Stubbornness be damned, you’d had your fun and now all you wanted was to give in to whatever was causing the butterflies in your stomach, so you let him kiss you. Hot, heavy and definitely indecent considering the environment, you basked in what it felt like to have his lips on yours again. He pulled a way a little, reveling in the way you tried to chase his lips; maybe he had affected you more than you’d let on too. One thing was for sure, he wouldn’t break your heart again, he was already dreaming up ideas of forever, it finally seemed like you both were on the same page.

🏷️ Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @attapullman @roosterforme @bradshawssugarbaby @bobgasm @sailor-aviator @goldenseresinretriever @sarahsmi13s @hangmansgbaby @sebsxphia @mynameismckenziemae

[millerscoffee]

soft spot for trouble | hbf!javi

lit a cigarette and gave it a kiss.

6.3k | javier peña x f!reader

masterlist

rating: 18+ MDNI

warnings: dub-con: drunk sex, honey this is all S-M-U-T, husband's best friend, infidelity, dirty talk, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, squirting, piv (protected), brat tamer!javi, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, size kink, praise kink, this is just so horny, smoking (lots of it soz, and shotgunning cigarette smoke – OOPS). no use of y/n.

summary: javier peña is back from colombia and decides to spend some time with you and your husband, his best friend since college. after telling a story you know nothing about, an argument ensues between you and your husband, and you get drunk... both on whiskey, and on javi.

A/N: what can i say, i'm just the worst for narcos's very own javier peña and there's nothing you can do. enjoy!!!!! || [when you click keep reading you don't see the chalkboard i have stashed away stating "i will not make this a series" over and over 🤭]

"Bebita, I know your husband. He's not exactly notorious for making women cum. When was the last time he even went down on you?" Your cheeks absolutely flush at the tone of his voice, the truths he's spilling from his lips. Truths so intimate, you hadn't even told Gabbie about them. You swallow a knot in your throat. "Not saying it's me who should do that for you," finishing off his statements and drink Javi stands up, slipping on his leather jacket. "I'm saying I could." Stepping closer, he bends down to catch your ear. Goosebumps litter your skin as he whispers: "Could make you forget all about tonight." And you very much would like to forget all about tonight.

"Okay – okay! Would you have a threesome?" Your best friend is reading these conversation cards you got her some birthday ago, and you can hear her partner and your husband laugh amongst themselves.

A dinner party is going on at your house, and you and your husband have invited your best friend, Gabrielle, and her partner, Kris. Along with them there's your husband's best friend, Javier.

He was meant to bring a date, but for reasons that were more mumbled out of his mouth than spoken outright, they aren't here.

You're all sat around the dining room table with after dinner drinks and a game everyone agreed would be a fun way to end the night.

"Oh, gosh!" You laugh with Gabbie, both of you shaking your heads in anticipation of what would be said next.

"You gonna tell her or should I, pendejo?" Javi refers to your husband, a cigarette hanging from his lips.

The one you explicitly told him to smoke outside. You heard your husband, Julian, veto the request as you left, allowing the DEA to do what he wanted.

Julian undermining what you wanted... again.

"Tell me what?" You raise your brow, wafting smoke from your face dramatically as if to say, I told you not to do this. Javi doesn't seem to pay it much attention.

"Me and this guy...," in fact he points to your husband with the cigarette, flicking ash into the tray. You blink in annoyance.

"No! You didn't!" You gasp. Your mind races at the thought of them taking someone back to their dorm in college. You curb the ache that tempts your middle at thought of Javier and Julian sharing a woman between the two of them.

But that excitement is fleeting when a more sinister, grueling feeling creeps up your stomach.

"You're right. We didn't. Well, I didn't. I just played wingman. Julian here isn't as much of a saint as you thought." Javi says this to make you laugh, but it does the opposite.

Your eyes catch Julian's who now is looking at anywhere else but you. Knowing damn well before the two of you got married, this man prodded and practically bullied sexual information out of you.

Said it was only fair to know each other's pasts before making such a big commitment.

Within a sentence, a simple – stupid – game, the perception of your husband could shift before your very eyes. Your jaw ticks forward and you take a long, contemplative sip of wine.

"O-kay, let's just put these away," Kris muses, taking the cards in her hands.

"No, let's keep going," you antagonise. Your eyes become dull, tongue sharpening by the second. "I think Julian has a story to tell. It's good to know who you're married to."

You remember the way Julian said those very words to you while he was digging your own history of who you've slept with. Like a secret call directly to him... in front of everyone.

You can see Peña shifting in his seat out of your periphery.

"Well, it was in college," Julian speaks now after shooting the rest of his bourbon. His body language involving everyone in the story, but he finally has the courage to look at you. Somehow that hurts worse.

"There were these two girls at the bar we used to go to, and–"

That's when the tear spills over your cheek.

"Alright, I think she's heard enough." Javi's voice is low to Julian and your head snaps in the direction of him like a vulture who's making a meal of something dead.

"You don't get to decide that."

It's only when Gabbie whispers your name do you take heed. "I think we should leave you two to talk about this."

The guests in your home pack up their things until it's you and Julian. "I'm sorry, Jul–"

"Peña just go, man."

Javi nods sadly at your husband, his hand touching your shoulder as he slips out. He's the last one to go, and as the door closes it feels symbolic.

It's silent for a long time.

You go between wanting to cry, wanting to scream, wanting clarity.

Since your own husband didn't bother to give that to you.

"I never cared," you let out an uneven sigh, searching over your husband's features.

He looks defensive, annoyed and it's totally misplaced. You should be the annoyed one. You are the one who got betrayed.

"It never bothered me to tell you my partners. I agreed with you, even. That we should be open and honest to have a better relationship–"

"You really think you're in the position to be on a high horse when you fuck Javier with your eyes?"

It's deflective. A defense mechanism to take the heat off of himself, and unfortunately, it works. Your mouth is left agape.

"What the fuck do you mean?"

"I mean," he begins, tilting his glass to where Javi sat, "whenever this guy is over, I don't exist."

"This guy, is your best friend. Someone you've known way longer than you've known me. Excuse me for being hospitable."

"There's hospitality, then there's throwing yourself at the first man who walks through the door. It's embarrassing."

His words make you feel small for the first time in your relationship.

It causes a crack, irreparable in nature, and you feel a shift.

Because you don't cry, it makes you angry. Puts you back on track as to why you were having this conversation in the first place.

"Embarrassing?" You stand, wine glass in hand, "Embarrassing?! You just confessed something you knew would make me irate in front of our very best friends. Something personal that I should have known in private. You lied to me and you admitted it in front of people we care about. Made me look like a goddamn fool! Don't tell me about being embarrassed, you don't know the first fucking thing. Fuck you, Julian!"

You could throw the wine glass, but you decide to slam it down instead. Grabbing your purse, keys, and jacket to escape without letting him finish his thought. Door slammed. You've heard enough.

Mature. But you were pissed off, and you knew staying in a house that you made a home together wouldn't solve anything.

Maybe getting some fresh air would help.

Maybe walking to the bar in town would be even more helpful.

Your thoughts were swirling, clouding your judgement on the walk in, sneakers on. Your pleated white skirt brushes above your knees that paired with the black top that made your breasts look concealed more than shown off.

As if the forest green bomber jacket didn't help in making you look modest.

What the fuck did Julian know?! You weren't throwing yourself at anybody.

Because you were not thinking about Javi with his shirt off moments before the truth was told, and he did not infiltrate your dreams occasionally with sexual undertones.

It couldn't happen, and it was not happening.

You had been to this bar a few times before. It's dimly lit, a variety of music pumps through the speakers. There's plumes of smoke, and there's something about it that feels safer than when you experienced it in your home. Like a part of you enjoyed it.

Studying the room, you discover Javier Peña on a barstool, staring into his glass of whiskey. You knew Peña to play dirty, but there's something about the way he's contemplating – or at least looks like he's contemplating – that gives off remorse.

"Didn't know you could do that," you kid, taking a seat beside him. Your eyes scan over his jeans, the buttons undone from his red shirt. The way his chest and neck and NO – no!

"Oh, hey," and his dreamy crooked smile, puppy eyes. Jesus Christ, you needed a drink and fast. "Didn't know I could do what?"

"Think." You try to cheer him up, but it doesn't seem to work. You both keep doing that to each other tonight.

Instead, Javi huffs out a fake laugh through his nose and downs the rest of the amber liquid. His eyebrows flash quickly, showing hints of regret, "You're tellin' me."

"Hey," your say lowly, eyes softening at the signs of his guilt. It feels different from your husband's accusatory behaviour.

It makes you feel like Javi actually cared that he hurt you, or at least hurt his friend. You can see him run his tongue atop of his teeth through his lips when he looks at you. It makes his jaw jut out, strong and chiseled, and you fail at averting your gaze.

"You didn't know that I didn't know. It's not your fault. For either party." You reach out to touch the top of Javi's hand in a friendly manner, and you catch a glimpse of your wedding ring.

A twinge of guilt hits your gut, and you pull away from the warmth as soon as you land.

"You really didn't know?" Javi peers over to you before finding eyes of the bartender, holding up the number 'two' with his fingers.

"Not only did I not know, he insisted on knowing every person that I've ever slept with, where they live, and how many times. Yes you heard that correctly," you nod a thank you to both the bartender and Javi before taking your drink.

Whiskey's not typically your first choice, but it's like he knew you needed something stronger. It's not a typical night.

The alcohol feels good on your tongue, as if it washed away what you just said.

You conveniently leave out what your husband threw at you about Peña before you left. Tonight was awkward enough already.

"Mierda, what a fucking idiot." Javi snickers in disbelief, shaking his head.

"Yeah, I think you taught him some interrogation skills you didn't warn me about." You don't mean for that to come off so flirty, but you see Javier's face change minisculely and it makes your thighs to squeeze together.

"Didn't know I had to look out for you, cariño," he says, charm dripping from every syllable. He offers you a cigarette and it's hilarious, really – him handing this to you after telling him time and time again not to do it in your house.

Even more hilarious that you take it from him. He seems a little surprised by that.

You press the stick between your teeth when Javi has his lighter ready. Pour your stare into his as he starts your cigarette. Allow the inhale to sting your lungs.

You're very composed about it all, really. Really.

Exhaling the air from the side of your mouth, away from his face, you shrug slightly. "I guess you know now." Your words not making complete sense as you dizzy from nicotine, alcohol, and deception.

"Two women...," you trail off, focusing on the neon lights of the bar that create reflections on the shiny, hardwood floor. "Can barely satisfy one." You weren't saying it to chide Julian, you mostly said to to yourself, but of course nothing goes unnoticed with Peña, and he chokes a laugh.

It feels nice to hear a light sound in the midst of something so heavy that you can't help but partake in it, too. The two of you chuckling and you shake your head, taking another drag of the cigarette.

"Well, here's to the ones who can," Javi lifts his glass, and you do the same, just barely picking up what he's hinting while you down the rest of drink. Head swimming now.

The two of you sit in conversation as the piles of people in your town fill seats for a good ten minutes. Most of them know the both of you, and that keeps you on track. You abandon the butt of your cigarette in an ashtray that has at least three of Javi's since he arrived.

Kept on track because the more you drink, the more you realise you want to act on your impulses. Want to go against the things you were keeping yourself from thinking. To make some of those dreams come true.

"You know what your fuckin' problem is?" Javi starts, and it makes your blood boil. Breaks you out of your reverie.

"Maybe start that sentence off differently."

"No," he's quick to reply. So quick you don't notice you fold your own argument. "You're too uptight, that's your problem." he shrugs casually and you shove his shoulder lightly.

"Making it worse, Peña."

Javi brings his hand up to tap his index and middle finger at to the side of your head lightly.

"You're operating too much from here," his arm sweeps down, those two same fingers brushing against your panties from underneath your skirt. You jump back in your seat, gasping in response.

"Need to operate from here."

And there it is. It would seem out of place if it were anyone else but Javier Fucking Peña. Known for debaucherous ways. Known for his vices.

"W-what... what are you doing?" You stare wide, not quite sure you even felt what you did. It happened so fast that when you look around, no one saw a thing.

It wasn't as much of a record-scratch stop to them as it was to you.

You notice that you don't tell him to stop. And so does he.

"Bebita, I know your husband. He's not exactly notorious for making women cum. When was the last time he even went down on you?" Your cheeks absolutely flush at the tone of his voice, the truths he's spilling from his lips. Truths so intimate, you hadn't even told Gabbie about them. You swallow a knot in your throat.

"Not saying it's me who should do that for you," finishing off his statements and drink Javi stands up, slipping on his leather jacket. "I'm saying I could." Stepping closer, he bends down to catch your ear. Goosebumps litter your skin as he whispers: "Could make you forget all about tonight."

And you very much would like to forget all about tonight.

It's only when you stand do you notice how drunk you are. Not completely wasted, but not sober enough to make decisions with your brain. Exactly how Javi wants you. The walk to Javi's apartment is remembered in jolly splices.

---

Your mouth greets the shoulder of Javi's jacket playfully while he unlocks his door. You detect his aftershave in mix with the cigarettes, alcohol, and leather.

A whine escapes you and slick gathers in your panties, even more from the bar if that were possible. Especially when your noises and eagerness pull a baritone laugh from him, "Tranquilo, tigre."

He says that, but as soon as you've crossed the threshold of his door he has you against the other side of it. Fingers playing in your hair. Ever the gentleman, sliding off your jacket to put it... on the ground. Great. You like that jacket!

But you're just as careful and kind to his things as you tug on his belt. Your fingers playing with the brown leather and metal and finally, finally your mouths touch.

A sweet moan, high in octave and breathy, eases out of your throat and it's met with the gravel of his groan in the pit of his own. He feels and tastes nothing like your husband which makes it much easier to forget him.

Truthfully, he hadn't been in your mind since fresh air hit your face on the walk to Javi's.

Smoke, alcohol, and the faint likeness of gum moves over your tongue while your hands multitask in untucking his shirt from his jeans.

"That fuckin' easy?" He quips, but his breath as shaky as yours. Large hands palming the smushed shape of your breasts from the modest top, and it produces a whimper in the middle of your panting.

"It's that fucking easy, Peña. Could've been doing this a long fuckin' time, now." Your hands eclipse his, pushing them further into your tits in effort to obscenely massage them.

This stirs a groan from his lips. In awe of how in control you are like this. How it's different from the woman allowing her requests to be denied in her own home.

Javi disobeyed you on purpose at your house earlier, so maybe you could get it through your thick fucking skull that this is what you really needed.

To watch your desires bubble to the surface, and moreover to let them have space here. He wants you to act on them.

Taking your chin between his fingers, he rolls over the bone. Moustache twitching in a smirk, "Javi, baby."

To say you're wet now is an understatement. Your clit tingles with anticipation, thighs shaking without even being touched.

"Javi," you say it back to him, but it comes out more like a moan. A catalyst for a messy kiss, all tongue and teeth and brushing of his facial hair against the top of your lips while he towers above you. Palm flat against the door above your head.

Somewhere between that and undoing each button on his shirt, you end up in the kitchen – bent over the island. Pouting at not getting the chance to see him shirtless fully.

You shiver against the granite, claw at the edges of furniture for something to land on. To find purchase. A cheek is pinned against the cool texture and you choke a breath the second you feel air flow against your ass. Your skirt riding up just for Javi to view.

"Motherfucker," you hear Javi behind you. The tone amused, saturated in desire. That's when you get your first taste of relief.

The edge of his index finger runs between your legs, rubbing the obvious wet spot of your panties. Your folds, even through the fabric, wrap around the length of his finger from how deeply he's pressing against you.

It flicks a flame in the pit of your stomach and causes more hunger than relief. Your pores open from how hot it's making you.

"You get this wet for him?" Javi's simple question evokes a mewl you've never heard come from yourself. Your hips lift back and roll in need.

"No... no. J-just you, Javi. Just you."

"Just me," he repeats, head tipping to the side as he examines you.

How easy it is for you to handover claim of your cunt. It's instantaneous, him pulling your undies down. Wasting no more time in what the two of you came here to do.

The pad of his thumb collects your slick between your folds. From the top of your hole all the way to your clit at the bottom from how you're positioned, and you bite your lip hard. Cheeks flushed while your ass peeks out from your skirt.

"Is that because this is mine?"

You confidently say Julian has never talked to you like this. You don't think you've ever been addressed like this in your life.

Never been made to feel special in this way, or that your body was someone's because they wanted you. Not because they wanted to have some icky claim of you.

Even more, you don't feel guilty. Not yet, anyway. There's no time for it. No time to pretend from what you've wanted from the very moment this man, whose warmth now radiates behind you, entered the picture.

"It's yours," you say in a rush as your torso drapes and digs into the side Javi's kitchen island. Makes you think you'd say this even in a sober state. "It's all yours, Javi!"

"What's mine?" He's deliberate and torturous, and his voice alone could make you cum. Your ass pushes back languidly, giving him a good view to curse at under his breath, of your cunt and the velvet of your asshole.

"Me, Javi. I'm yours. Everything." Hot tears swell over your cheeks from how horny and desperate you feel. Like if you don't get him now, you could combust.

"Javi!" you gasp, rutting against the outline of his hard cock in his jeans when he grinds against you without warning.

"Get used to fuckin' saying that," he cautions, and it's cocky, but unlike all the other broken promises you've been given, he's true to his word.

Because he pulls away from you, and you're now his ragdoll – putting you wherever he wants. Hoisting you up on the kitchen island, and it feels cold against the heat pooling at your core.

Javi watches as you bring your bare feet onto the counter, leaning back on your hands, and spread your legs apart like he's being called for dinner. And, fuck, that's exactly what he wants.

Because as soon as you do that, as soon as he sees just how wet and pink you are at the core for him, he can't say no to you.

Not that he was ever planning on it.

"That's it, that's fucking it. Jesus fucking Christ."

You get a good view of Javi's chest all the way down to his stomach and jeans in their disheveled state from this point of view. The bulge of his cock difficult to hide in pants that tight, and you are grateful for it.

You shiver at a mixture of the view of him and the air against your soaked skin.

Your cheeks and lips are painted crimson when he pulls up a seat. He wasn't kidding. He was planning on eating you out, going down on you like you were his own personal meal – as if his eyes devouring you weren't enough.

Your manicured nailed comb his hair back once you get the chance to reach him. Feeling exposed, throbbing by the time you feel the smooth skin of his cheek proceed the inside of your thigh. He takes you in, marveling at the way your cunt pulses and clenches over nothing. Fluid floods right from the source. The way your clit peeks out from its hood, just enough that his teeth could brush against it.

It makes his mouth water, and yours too now that you think about it. Pressing slow, teasing kisses on your thighs you sigh in frustration and alleviation. You can't help but wriggle your hips up towards him. "Please," you whimper, and that makes Javi's eyes grow even darker if you could believe it.

"Please what?"

"Javi, please eat me out!"

He doesn't miss a beat. Using his nose and face to breach your folds apart, to take a mess even further, Javi digs in. His tongue flattens against your slick and your sounds are immediate. It's all too sensitive, too unfamiliar for you to fully register how to feel.

He was right when he called your husband out at the bar. Julian made sure you came, but it was rarely with his mouth. Most of the time you were left rubbing yourself off during sex.

So to have someone, to have Javi – your husband's best fucking friend, between your legs. Servicing you with the sluttiest smile on his face, you can't help but slump back on the counter.

To be under his stare is almost too much. Perfect and needy for you. You slip your eyes shut from the intensity.

"Eyes on me, princesa," Javi rolls off his tongue easily, the tip of it digging right underneath the hood of your clit. Making you gasp, eyes wide, popping back open to meet his gorgeous features.

"Did my pussy like that?" He hums in satisfaction, wrapping his mouth around the all-too sensitized nub before mercilessly sucking it.

This leaves you with your mouth hanging open, your eyes crossing as they roll into the back of your head. The same head that's now reclining in sheer ecstasy.

But Javi's quick to make his point as he goes off of you and replaces his sucking with a harsh slap to your cunt. It makes you spring up, makes you pay attention. You pout and writhe at his power over you.

"I said fucking eyes on me. Don't you dare think about anyone else."

"I-I," you try, you really try to say something, but you can't. It feels too good, and you're too drunk to understand you can't use your words right now.

So you comply, watch him as best as you can. Your mouth split open, eyebrows knit together. And he's kind in the way he goes right back – sucking on your clit like it's his fucking job.

Like he hasn't eaten in weeks, and you're sitting at his kitchen counter, on display.

Not using your brain to think, but using your pussy.

"JustyouJavi," you manage. It's slurred, but you manage it because while he's sucking on your nerves, he's rolling the edge of his tongue against it too. Methodical circles, a tempo to die for. Doesn't switch it up, or make awkward transitions. It's just right.

It's inevitable, screaming his name. Feeling your toes curl, the heels of your feet grind into Javi's shoulders. Damn near pornographic in the way you keen your mantra of: yeah, yeah, yeah. The ache explodes into an uncontrollable fit of passion as you gush all over Javi's mouth.

But as he pulls back, you see that it's not just his mouth that's coated. His cheeks, chin, nose. You're spilling down his neck. And he smiles at you like a blood-soaked lion polishing off its prey.

"I know what you can do, princesa," the sentence has far too many words for you to understand what's happening during your comedown, so that's why it happens as a surprise when you feel Javi's two fingers prod against your cunt.

Standing from his chair now, he pushes it back with his heel. Hand in a loose fist around your neck as he makes you watch what he's doing to you. "Don't fucking blink," he grits, and it makes you want him to tighten his grip. To be possessive while he fucks you.

Your head is slightly angled down while he starts. Eyes looking up, mouth wet but not as wet as Javi's and it makes you come apart to watch his skin glisten still from you. Index and middle fingers press inside your wet hole. His wet hole.

"Fuck!" You exclaim, slipping your top lip above the bottom, you open easily for him to plunge deeper, his fingers curling up with no trouble at all in finding that spongy spot of pleasure right at the tips of them. Your eyes gloss from how overwhelming it feels, the repetitions.

"You can squirt for me, baby." His echoes have you in a trance, but that request makes you nervous. "I've... I don't know how...," you manage the words and he massages your insides in a way that makes you discern you're being primed for something.

"You can do it," Javi leans down, and the encouragement makes your mind reel at how simple words can create such an affect on you.

"Pull my cock out and slip those pretty lips around it, hermosa. You'll forget about anything else."

A part of you isn't ready. To see his cock would mean that things were progressing, and if they were in a standstill you could soak up this moment for longer. But the way you can hear your cunt slosh in between thrusts has you curious if he actually could make you do this.

You look down first. See the bulge more prominent and close in his boxers from his unbuttoned jeans. Eager to break out, you pull the fabric down enough to send the leaking head of his cock to slap against his abdomen before it springs out in front of you to tease.

"Holy fuck," the moment before the freefall, your body becomes alert of the sheer size of him. It was even better than the dreams of you getting railed by him from behind.

You can't help but take a moment to appreciate this. To brush your face sluttily against the warmth of his cock. Your lips teasing him until the precum lands on your tongue and your jaw instantly burns from how sore it is to be open like that.

Saliva falls on your shirt, not yet found the time to take it off.

He tasted heavenly, your hand cups his balls while his moves from your throat to the back of your head.

And it's delicious to watch his face. The way his jaw relaxed open before grinding it back shut, exhaling sharply through his nose. Javi tests your gag reflexes then, gripping the back of your head and sending the shaft of his cock down your throat.

"Mierda," he falters in keeping both rhythms from how hot your wet mouth is. "Knew you could handle my cock, baby, but fuck."

Between the sounds of you gargling him and the squelching of your pussy he is relentless in using, your body is distracted and slack enough for him to pull out of you.

"Ay dios mio, bebita. That's fucking it, there you go." The way he's nodding, proud and spasming in your mouth has you cumming again. This this time clear liquid sprays from you when he tugs his skilled fingers from you and you vibrate such moans from Javi's cock he has to pull out to stop himself from cumming, too.

A wail replaces your moans as the sound of your voice is more prominent in the space. "Javi!" You can't help that you're crying obscenely now, tears flowing from the intensity and the treatment he'd been giving your throat. Mascara running down your cheeks.

---

"Good fucking girl, bonita." You don't realise it straight away from you cum-drunken stooper, but he's picked you up now. Showing you how strong his lean frame is by carrying you to his bed. Tossing you onto the mattress like it's nothing.

"All of this off. Now." Yes, sir. You bob your head yes frantically, knowing how fucked you must look. Mascara running, your panties... somewhere. Your skirt soaked from a new trick Javi just taught you.

You catch a glimpse of the man who did this to you, equally a mess. His hair in all directions, neck red as beads of sweat tempt his broad shoulders, and fuck, he was naked now. You don't mean to, but you drool – this time without a cock in your mouth – too fucked to notice, or care.

"Take a fuckin' picture, baby." Javi softens his knees to curve down at your ear, "Off. Last warning."

You begin to wonder what he would do if you didn't do as he said.

"And if I don't?" You challenge, a lascivious grin crosses your face and you raise a brow.

Mistake. Big mistake.

Because that makes Javi's grin fade. Ripples a new sense of foreboding into the air when he takes your skirt off just as easily and swiftly as he did your undies, but the skirt isn't unzipped so it bursts from the force and you yelp at the sensation.

"Javi, you broke my skirt!" You whine. Naked from the waist down he ogles you before tutting his teeth sarcastically.

"It really bothers me, hermosa," Your shirt is slung overhead and abandoned somewhere on the floor.

"Good girls don't talk back."

You can tell he's drinking you in from the moment he stands back, but he's pulling away more and more until you don't feel his warmth anymore and you realise the error you've made.

"W-wait... come-come back!" Your words dejected, giving him doe eyes as he mimics them way better than you could.

"Bad girls get punished. Rub your clit, get yourself off." It drives a pathetic sound from your mouth before you plead to him.

"Please, no. Please – Javi, Javi please. I'll be good. Please, Javi!" Sitting up, you beg him, undo the sheer bra so your tits pop out from it. Both of you bare in his bedroom.

You can see that makes his cock undoubtedly ache.

"Oh, querida. You're gonna have to do better than that." Arms crossed, he watches as you part your sticky legs, exposing your folds to him again and he hums in approval.

"Let me see how you do it."

You're so deep in it with him, it feels like you've been doing this regularly. How he knows your body, helps you discover little things you didn't even know you were into.

It relieves you to let out wanton moans, your fingers spanning your slick, opening yourself up on cue. Fingers roll, pinch, glide your clit in a hypnotic motion.

It sends you close to the edge, but you can't quite find it with the prospect of Javi inside you.

You keep staring at his cock.

The way precum collects at the head, the girth of him. You could only imagine how deep he would be. Unsure if you could take him all.

"I need you, Javi. Javi, please. Please give me your cock. I'm sorry, I wanna be your good girl!" Torture rocks your throat, and right before you force a dull orgasm from yourself Javi takes your wrist, pushing it away from your core.

"We have to use a condom, baby." It's his way of telling you yes, and you sit up zealously, understanding and willing to do whatever it takes.

Because in reality, he's right, and that almost causes you to stop. Like those dreams you have where you wake up and instantly flock to your husband. Overcompensating.

But this wasn't one of those dreams, and you wanted this so badly it stung.

Javi goes to his nightstand, slicking lube on his cock before sheathing it in the rubber protectant. You certainly don't feel upset that you have to use it, but it leaves you curious what his skin feels like slipped inside of you.

Already coveting his presence before it even began.

But that's the thing, there's no slipping here. When he comes around to make sure you're both lubricated enough for the barrier, you see just how fat his cock is as it bulges from the condom.

Your legs unfurl, chin lining forward as you watch him. Javi keeps you on your back for now, draping your legs over his shoulders. No, he doesn't slide inside of you, he stretches you to such completion your body pulses repeatedly, coming completely undone.

It almost feels too much at first, this position – as deep as it was, but the way you're groaning has you both believing you can take it. Just in time for your sex to push him out of you.

Your muscles all too tight, beginning to worry he's too big.

But that doesn't stop you.

"Mierda, you need it that fucking bad, bebita?" His words make you weak. Because immediately you go between your legs, inviting him back into the innermost part of you without him needing to do it himself.

Javi's lips crash against yours, taking time in burying himself all the way to the hilt. But he doesn't move a muscle.

He stays there, admiring above you. The way your mouth parts, nipples becoming alive at the sensation. "Eres hermosa," more of a mumble, his lips brush and decorate the inside of your calves. The tip of his nose slightly bending against the skin.

It starts to become unbearable, your hips shifting up, but you find it is working. That your muscles relax and are able to take. "I can take it," you incline, not noticing you're heaving shallow breaths until the words leave you in pieces.

"Can you?" Javi asks condescending, thumbprint teasing the split of your clit, rasping at the way you convulse your whole body from contact.

He can't take it anymore, your hold is too strong over him. Javi, compelled to fuck you, drives his cock in, proprietorial in its approach.

You're almost oversensitive, unsure of the statement you just announced because you find yourself swallowing hard, your throat dry. Fingernails claw at his forearms as his large paws grip your waist for leverage. Your pelvis bucking up because like his fingers before, his length is hitting your g-spot and it's too much – you have to screw your eyes.

But Javi doesn't reprimand you for it this time. Instead he hovers over you, sending your ass off of the bed and him deeper than ever before. Right against your cervix now. Causing your mandible to unhinge, pitiful sounds expel your lungs. It's just too good.

"You can take it, baby," Lustful words right there at your ear, you beg in way that makes you want more.

You stroke his hair, tugging the strands – scratching his scalp. His body mercilessly colliding with yours. All sweat and skin, balls eager to tap against the curve of your ass, and all of those sounds fill the room. The sounds of your sex.

"Javi, please. Tell me." It's magic, he doesn't hold it against you that you're not being completely direct. He's understanding, and wants this for you again. The gears connecting that you need to be talked and fucked through it.

"Tell you what, cariño? How I want you to cum for me?" His glistening covered brow presses against yours, hairs stick to both of your foreheads. "How I make this pussy feel so perfect you have to explain why you're limping tomorrow?"

Fuck, you're a mewling, writhing mess.

"Let go for me, ángel," his dark, pleading eyes invite you to jump over the edge, "That's it. That's fucking it, baby. Cum for me."

Your skin trembles like a live wire. He's pulling another orgasm out of you and you don't even know where it's coming from or how he could get you to do it again. But you are. It shows up in your fingers curling, your thighs fluttering until streams of your sex leak from around his cock in your climax.

You're speechless. Moans come from you, yes, but you're so fucked out there's no words that could be put together to describe how fucked you really are.

Your legs fall on either side of Javi's waist, and there's a moment of cognition as your hand reaches to touch Javi's face. "You are so handsome," it slips out before you can stop it, but you don't want it to. Your thumb finds the divot at his bottom lip. Recall the way he tastes of you now. The tops of your fingers stroke his clean shaven cheek.

A face so hauntingly beautiful for a human up to no good. You knew snippets of his past, but his pout nudging against your palm tells you more than any story. Lets you know exactly who he is. You knew the truth.

"Get on your back, honey." You encourage, coaxing his cock out of you – still hard and dying for release.

Surprisingly, he does what he's told, unable to stop himself from kissing your cheek and you swallow down words.

No need to complicate things further.

So you climb on top of him instead. "Shit, cariño. Look at you." That makes you blush, his warm and strong palm splays on top of your breast to brush a digit over your nipple and you shiver. Tentatively, you take him back in and make an oomph sound. He somehow feels deeper like this.

You're intentional in the roll of your hips, but the pace is far too slow for Javi. He needs you, needs the chase of something. "Let me," he grits, pulling your chest onto his and pins your arms behind you in his own bear hug.

The way he digs his heels into the mattress to fuck you, to use you to get himself off is borderline degrading but his quiet praises against your skin has you lit up again in ways you don't anticipate. He slaps your ass hard enough to leave a mark before petting where you connect. This leaves your sticky sweetness to cover his lap in no time.

"Hermosa, h-hermosa," his voice staggers at the shell of your ear, hips erratic while it feels like he's fucking you into oblivion. "So fucking good for my cock, pretty girl."

You have orgasmed so many times now it feels automatic when it happens again, but this time you take note of his arms tightening around you. A hand in your hair. "Just like that, just– fuck. Take it." It almost sounds like a resignation, but his waist pounds you both into another wave of pleasure until he emptied inside of you, filling the condom.

You both stay still. Spent. Relaxed. Eyes bleary, the two of you collapse into assuage.

A pile of shuddering, panting limbs tangle together in the wake of something devious and beautiful.

"Pretty, pretty girl." You hear him say into the top of your head. The hint of affection aches at your heart.

It's then you become acutely aware of how tight your wedding band feels around your ring finger.

---

Javi lights a cigarette in the middle of your afterglow, and it's intimate, him sharing it with you. You hold it, sobriety taking your head, and it frightens you when you don't pull away from him as you begin to think more clearly.

In fact, you roll onto your stomach. Body half-slung onto his, your tits pushed together perfectly as you sit up your elbows.

Taking the cigarette between your lips, you inhale, leaning to him as you push the smoke to billow into his mouth. He exhales the rest through his nose and your tongue tastes the plush lips in front of you because, fuck, it might be the last time you can.

"What do we do?" You ask after a while. It's quiet, and you give the stick back to him by dangling it between his lips.

"I was gonna ask you the same thing." His words muffled by it, he takes a drag before leaving it to burn between his fingers. He puffs the smoke away from you. "You stay with him, bebita. You work it out. And when you need to be fucked, you call me. When he's being a cabrón, you call me. I'll make you forget about him."

Your survey the curtains in his room, the blue glow of dawn tempting to bring another day forward. You don't like his idea, but that doesn't make it wrong.

"You mean you don't want to run away together?" You joke, your eyes conveying, no really it's a joke. I swear. And he runs his fingers across your cheek to pinch it lightly, lips pressing together when he shakes his head 'no'.

"You know we can't do that."

The words bring Julian back to life. Shows his existence in a way that doesn't make you want to push him away. Through the love Javi has for him.

Despite it all, love. A common goal the two of you have for the man who is probably worried sick over you.

Just before guilt tempts to wrap its vengeful claws around your throat, Javi stops it in its tracks.

"You took what you wanted. That's all."

You nod compliantly, not willing to argue in order to savour the moment. Your head brushes against his chest and you close your eyes. If only to capture this feeling a little while longer.

You allow his words to integrate, and swallow down the antagonist of his statement: that there was more you wanted. You were certain the chase of this, the irrevocable quench from throes you shared with Javier, would not just die down.

Terrible that you didn't want it to. You would take what you wanted.

[missmarveledsblog]

It's fate part two ( Bradley bradshaw x reader)

summary : bradley can't stay away and well jake soon finds out leading to a blow up game of dogfight football

warning: none its still goofy fun well one fight but other than that it's fluff

previous part

Never had he been sure of anything then fact was he sitting across from his future wife. From the way she laughed to smile , how she animatedly told him of the different kids in her class and how each was a character in their own right . he imagine would she talk like that about their kid albeit he was getting a little ahead  since he hadn’t even asked her on the first date nor did her brother his fellow aviator and well close friend he was even talking to her in the first place .  yet in that moment i wasn’t on his mind , jake wasn’t on his mind as he sat in the cafe on what was the third time he was meeting with the woman he couldn’t get out of his head. 

“ i’ve not let you get a word in have i ?” she chuckled looking up as she took a bite of her brownie . 

“ seriously talk away it amazing to hear about little katie and her overcoming the sandpit but i do wanna know if little zack got his dog cat yet?” he smiled almost dreamily as she laughed  the way her head fell back and the way the sound literally warmed his insides better then any coffee he’s drank so far taking full advantage of his weekend off  not caring to go to the beach  or beat jake in dog tag football like he usually is no bradley is content with sitting in a cafe listening about kids he never even saw . so lost in her not even the buzzing on his own phone snapped this spell she had on him till her own went off . 

“ sorry let me take this” she smiled before bringing it up to her ear. “ hey idiot … yeah i can come and bradley can bring me  .. what he’s here with me know  yeah jake we will be there soon” she rolled her eyes before hanging up . “ my dumb brother wants us to meet him at the beach something about some game” she shrugged as bradley came crashing back to earth. 

“ yeah sure  lets go i’ll follow you” he smiled as took got ready to leave watching as she walked out. “ well i guess i’ll see my parent quicker than i thought i would “ he sighed  leaving a tip on table  before slowly heading to what was going to be his doom . 

From the look on jake seresins face when they arrive on the beach well doom was the right and accurate world to describe the following . 

“ I’ll sit with little seresin ..hey i’m natasha you can call me nat”  phoenix smiled really not wanting to be caught in the crossfire of what was about to come as Mav called the two captains to only be jake and bradley . 

“ i told you she’s off limits chicken “ jake glared getting in position . 

“ i told you it’s fate bagman “ rooster almost copied as the two glared it didn’t matter who was on side no this was between them two and them alone in this game .  the moment javy passed the ball throwing it to bob who ultimately tried to throw it back to jake only for fanboy to intercept and throw it to payback then in turn threw it too rooster .  well with who he was determined to impress stood on side lines rooster ran playing probably the best he had since he ever came across the game . 

“ 1 point to roosters team “ Mav called as y/n cheered making her brother pissed off . 

 Throughout the game both men done whatever in their power knocking each other over diving and dotting  til the scores where tied both panting and glaring at each other as their teammates honestly was happy to call it a tie . 

“ is it usually this … violent” y/n asked nat worried for both men . 

“ well there a more push rate here” nat winced instantly catching her on to what it  was . 

Once she watched as the two began head to head like to bulls charging til it was no longer just pushing and well fist started fly sending the men over pull them apart both men yelling at mav with bruise cheeks and egos and she walked closer. 

“ he’s dating my sister” 

“ it’s not a date …yet she’s an adult asshat” .

“ a girl really grow hell up both of you” mav rolled his eyes as the two began shouting back and forth . 

“ sorry sir may i try  “ she smiled sweetly up all doe eyes and sugarly sweet . 

“ i’m willing to try anything kid knock yourself out “ now what mav didn’t expect was the loud whistle  that shut the boys up or the fast she grab both of the men by the ear . 

“ now y’all gonna talk like adults or am going to show you how we treat misbehaving children  “ she looked between the two sternly as they instantly shut up . 

“ you can’t date rooster , one he’s old as hell and two he’s my friend” jake huffed. 

“ jakey buddy you have slept with  i could easily name five of my friends and another five co workers   another think if i wanna sleep with or date someone i will choose myself i am adult seem more of an adult then you” she crouched. 

“ i said that , i’m not old as hell ” rooster spoke up . 

“ and you well goading my brother and hitting him ain’t gonna happen again because idiot or not i kinda love him is that clear “ she  stood as he gulped and nodded. “ now  shake hands and grow up because i will give that man my number and jake can tell you how my mama kept his ass in straight line” she stomped over to Mav. 

“ sorry chicken “ jake grumbled. 

“ sorry bagman” . 

“ like you mean it jesus “ she rolled her eyes . 

“ sorry bradley .. shit maybe if she dates you  be less well that” .

“ sorry jake … dude i might marry you sister today” . 

“ you can take me on a date first bradley brooster radley “ she chuckled gathering her things. 

“ have you ever thought of joining the navy?” Mav asked shocked at the scene before him . 

“Oh and bradley pick me up at 7 “ was all she said before she headed up the beach . 

“ yessss ma’am… my wife is so pretty” he sighed happily . 

“ you aint married her yet” jake chuckled 

“ i’m gonna i’m telling you its’ ….” 

“ Fate “ the all groaned . 

Now as first date would be, he was never a ball of emotions as he was now almost pacing a hole in jake seresins floor as he waiting for her to get ready . 

“ really man i’ll lose my deposit you keep that up “ the blonde huffed eyes on the game that played on his television . 

“ sorry my nerves are gonna dent your income man i’m freaking out and all while in the chicks living room in front of you “. 

“ man where was confidence from earlier look for some weird reason she really likes you so i’m pretty sure even you couldn’t screw this up “

“ yeah thanks for the shiner really what my outfit needed “ he grumbled . 

“  you ready” she called and god she almost knocked him on his ass as he took in the sight of her man she could wear a potato sack and still look like a queen . the white sun dress hit her thighs or the red lips that paired well with her nails like something straight out of his fantasy . 

“ yeah .. yup ..yes.. Lets go “ he sighed ignoring the weird look jake was giving him or the way she was hiding her amusement . 

“ home by midnight” jake called . 

“ i’ll be home whenever i want to” she called back as door shut .

“ jesus he really is gonna be my brother in law” the blonde groaned .

part three

[goldenseresinretriever]

False Confidence: Chapter 13

Pairing: Javy “Coyote” Machado x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: The Athletic named Javy Machado the fifth sluttiest player in the NHL last year. He’s a known playboy who leaves every game with a different girl. As far as he’s concerned he’s living the dream, playing his dream job with the dream lifestyle. Unfortunately his friends and bosses don’t agree. At 33, they think it’s time for him to settle down. You’re a kindergarten teacher at an esteemed private school. You don't expect much when you finally accept your colleague’s invitation to attend her husband’s hockey game but when you accidentally get separated in the post-game rush, you find yourself in a compromising situation with the last person you’d ever expected to meet. When his PR rep suggests a mutually beneficial agreement, your hands are tied. How long will you have to keep up the act? And how long will you be able to?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, angst, fluff, fake relationship, suggestive language, anxiety, school system inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 6.1k

A/N: I’m back!!! Thank you to everyone who waited so patiently for this update! It’s been a long time coming and I’m glad to be settled to the point where I can start writing again!

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

Not many things in your life have been as hard as having to leave Seattle the morning after Valentine’s Day. You and Javy had stayed up all night, walking around the Seattle center after the Space Needle, and eventually heading back to his hotel room. Despite your initial nerves, the two of you had sat on his couch and simply talked until Josie knocked on the door to let you know it was time to go. You’d felt the physical heartache as you forced yourself to walk through his door and you know it must have been showing on your face because Javy simply grabbed his jacket and tagged along in the Uber to the airport, keeping an arm around you without another word. Despite that extra half hour together you still held him tight as the Uber lingered for Reuben and Javy at the deserted drop-off area.

While you’re extremely thankful to Josie for the Valentine’s Day surprise, it’s made the rest of your week unbearable, and you could barely do anything but watch the clock, waiting for Friday. Things have gotten even harder now that you know that Javy’s back in town. He’s just on the other side of town and you can barely hold yourself back. You still have a day of work and Javy’s probably exhausted from the road trip. You tell yourself that he’s at home, asleep, and you shouldn’t bother him, that you shouldn’t be so desperate, and yet you’re aching to text him and ask if he wants to grab dinner because you’re not sure you can wait until your plans tomorrow to see him.

You’ve resorted to turning your phone off and banishing it to the bottom of your deepest desk drawer and throwing yourself into your teaching to try and keep your mind off him. It was working, for the most part at least, but now that your students have been dropped off in the cafeteria for lunch and you’re faced with your empty classroom, your thoughts run wild in the space. Josie’s not even here to keep you company. She took the kids off-campus for lunch to meet up with Reuben. You have no idea how Josie’s done this for ten years, and you’re even more impressed with how adaptable the Fitch kids are. You’ve always known it must be hard, not having their dad around so much, but now that you’re right there alongside them in the trenches, you feel their pain acutely.

You drum your fingers on your desk as you debate releasing your phone from its prison if only just to distract yourself from the silence in the room contrasting with the loudness of your mind. Your fingers itch for the distraction, and you’re so in your own head that you almost miss the knock on your door. Head whipping up from where you were scrutinizing the wood grain of your desk, your heart leaps into your throat as you meet the pair of dark brown eyes peering through the window into your classroom. Your body moves before your brain, tripping over your own feet and your chair as you scramble towards the door as it swings open. Your legs give up their struggle with the chair and you go tumbling into Javy’s arms as he runs over to catch you and you let out a screech of surprise.

“Hi,” you breathe out on an exhale as you stare up at him where you’re crumpled awkwardly as he holds you up.

“Hi,” he says fondly as he smiles down at you and you bask in the warmth of his expression as he helps you find your footing.

“What are you doing here?” You can’t keep the wonder out of your voice as you’re tempted to reach out and touch his face to make sure he’s really here. He chuckles as he leans down and bumps your foreheads together.

“I missed you,” he says like it’s nothing but it sends your heart racing and you swear he can feel it pounding through your skin.

“I missed you too,” you feel your cheeks heat at the admission, at speaking the words that have been echoing in your head all week and you’re heart stops as his face brightens into a boyish smile at your words. You can’t stop yourself from kissing the smile off his face and he leans into your touch, reciprocating in kind. Kissing Javy feels like making up for lost time, it fills you up in a way that feels like bottling up sunshine, reenergizing you like you run on the solar energy that comes from simply being in his presence.

When you break apart, you can’t tear yourself far, hovering close to him and he seems to feel the same way until he pauses like something’s just occurred to him and he turns behind him and you follow him with your eyes as he scoops up a brown paper bag that’s fallen onto the floor and comes back over to you. “I brought lunch,” he explains and you’re glowing all over again as he leads you over to your desk and hands you the sandwiches he got from a place near his apartment. The food tastes spectacular but you’re pretty sure that has more to do with the company than the food itself.

Javy asks about your week and you ask him about his. You’ve had at least some idea of what he's been up to since you spent Thursday evening at the Fitch’s to watch the Colorado game together. He leans into you conspiratorially when you ask how Denver was and you try to ignore the way the proximity makes your heart skip. “I think Bradley almost proposed,” he whispers and your eyes widen in surprise. You don’t know Bradley as well as you know Zam, now that you’ve been welcomed into a group chat with the other girls since your art show, but you know from Zam that she and Bradley are particularly close.

“Didn’t they just get together a few months ago?!” You squawk indignantly and Javy laughs as he nods.

“They even broke up for a bit in December, but that’s Bradley.” Javy shrugs.

“Wait how do you know? Did he tell you?” You ask and Javy barks out a laugh.

“Bradley’s a locked vault, Meep, and only Zam has that key. But according to her, next time they go out for pizza in Denver, the team has to come because a certain someone has no self-control.” He shrugs nonchalantly but you can see conspiratorial mirth dancing in his eyes and you can’t help the giggle that bubbles out of you. The two of you sink into a comfortable silence as you eat, content just to be in each other’s presence after the time apart before Javy breaks it.

“By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask,” you arch an eyebrow silently as you chew, “do you think you’d be able to come to our away game in Dallas next month? It’s on a Saturday so you’d be back in time for school on Monday, and I’d take care of the tickets, but it could be fun.”

“I’d have to look at the exact date, but I should be free, yeah.” You say, smiling shyly at the fact that he’s inviting you to an away game. Somehow it feels different than going to a home game. “Of course, I’d love to come,” your heart thuds at the ease that those four letters fall off your tongue. The relief on his face is apparent and you’re confused by how it contrasts the excitement dancing in his eyes. Your head cocks in suspicion but where you’d normally bury the feeling and wallow as your anxiety sows the seeds of distrust, you feel the urge to confront Javy. Maybe it’s because he’s always been painfully honest with you. No matter how well he seems to think he is at hiding his secrets and emotions, he wears his heart on his sleeve. Maybe you can learn to do the same. “There’s more, what aren’t you telling me?” His eyes widen in surprise and you feel your heart thunder in your ears at his confirmation that he’s hiding something. It makes your stomach turn sour even as your brain screams for you to hear him out before you pull away, retreating into the hermit-crab shell in your mind.

“I…” he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s not that I’m hiding it, I just…” he shakes his head. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you, especially when you’re still at work, and I didn’t want you thinking that I was making assumptions or moving things too fast.” He’s still walking around the truth, treading carefully as he tries to slow you down and grab your metaphorical hand before you can run for the hills.

“And?” You hate how small your voice sounds. You’re supposed to be getting better. Javy’s brought you out of your shelf over the past month along with all your new friends, but it seems old habits die hard. You see something you can’t read pass through his eyes at the tone of your voice.

“My mom wants to meet you,” he says with a resigned sigh, and your brow furrows in confusion. You’d expected a lot of things, but not this. “Well my sisters too, but my mom specifically. I told her about you, about us,” you watch his hand twitch like he’s holding back from reaching for yours. “And she said she wants to meet you. The whole family usually comes up to Dallas for our away games there and she asked me to bring you.” He pauses before adding, “If you want to obviously, she didn’t ask me to kidnap you or anything.” The last addition makes a small laugh bubble up in your throat and you let it slip out to watch Javy’s shoulders relax at the sound.

You nod after a pause. “Sure, Javy, I’d love to meet your family,” your heart squeezes gently as you watch the nerves holding Javy stiff release him from their grip and you wonder if that’s what you always look like to him. “Thanks for telling me,” you murmur, a mirror of what you tell your students when you successfully get them to open up. He nods, but you can tell something’s still bothering him so you reach over and take his hand in yours, rubbing reassuring circles on the back of his hand.

“I didn’t mean to lie to you, I mean it.” You give him a gentle smile but he’s not looking at you, instead, his eyes are focused on your joined hands. You reach your other hand to guide his chin up to look at you, trying not to get distracted by the feel of his smooth, warm skin under your fingertips.

“It’s okay, Javy. I mean it. I didn’t like you trying to keep it from me, but I understand why you did, and you apologized and I accept that apology. You’re okay. We’re okay.” You reassure him and you watch his deep brown eyes search yours before the uneasiness slowly creeps out of them. His fingers close around yours in his lap and he turns his head to brush his lips against your fingers still on his chin.

“Thank you,” His voice is soft like he’s still a little unsure, but then he shakes his head like he’s fighting to keep words inside his mouth. “Are we still on for tomorrow, Meep?” You can’t stop the way your face blossoms into a smile at the mention of tomorrow and you nod enthusiastically.

“Are you going to tell me what you have planned?” You ask, trying to hide how desperate you’re becoming. Javy’s promised that he has top-secret plans for your belated Valentine’s Day plans but he’s been annoyingly vague about them since he asked you to save the day for him.

“And ruin the surprise?” He raises a cocky eyebrow that makes you scowl. He brushes another kiss to your fingers. “Not a chance.” You pout at him and he looks like he’s fighting a grin. “So impatient,” he mocks and you roll your eyes, removing your hand from his chin with a scoff that lacks any real strength. Your attention is caught by the beginnings of movement outside the classroom and your heart aches subtly at the realization that he’ll have to leave in a moment and you’ll have to return to your work like he didn’t just blow through the door and lift your mood exponentially. Once again you feel the urge to ask him if he has dinner plans but your anxiety holds you back from possibly overstepping. He’s already taken time out of his precious day off to come and bring you lunch, you don’t want it to feel like you’re smothering him. Javy’s eyes dart to the window in your door, clocking the motion outside as well and you’re convinced that you see his shoulders slump slightly, but it’s likely your own delusion. “Guess I should get out of your hair,” he says, before coming back to look at you. Normally, you’d feel uncomfortable, being the subject of a person’s undivided attention but you don’t with Javy. His eyes rove over you like he’s recommitting your features to memory and you feel your cheeks heat as you take advantage of his distractedness to do the same. You can see the exhaustion from the past week lingering under his eyes and your heart aches slightly at the idea of how exhausted he must be as guilt twists your stomach. He should be home, asleep, or at the very least getting some rest.

“Get some rest, Javy,” you implore softly and he smiles gently in response.

“Don’t you worry about me, Meep, you just have a good day.” Your brows pinch together indignantly.

“I mean it, Javy.” Your voice is sharper, your teacher voice slipping through.

Javy chuckles. “Yes, Ms. Roadie,” he sing-songs, imitating your students and you roll your eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” Your brow relaxes and you nod.

“I’ll be there,” you assure him before adding, “That is as long as you tell me where we’re going.” You give him a pointed look.

He gives you a mysterious smile, “All good things to those who wait, Meep.” You’re about to protest again but the sounds outside your classroom rise in volume and you know your time together is almost up. Anxiety at the idea of Javy leaving knaws at your stomach and before you can stop yourself, you’ve reached out, arms wrapping around Javy in a tight hug. His body starts with surprise under you but he reciprocates before you can draw away and second-guess your decision. “I’m tired of waiting,” you know you sound petulant as you grumble the words into his chest, but his chuckle in your ear reassures you that he knows your words go deeper than your plans tomorrow and he feels the same.

“I’m tired of waiting, too, Meep.” He reassures you and you heave out a sigh, relishing the feeling of being in his arms for a moment longer.

***

Your knee bounces particularly hard and slams into the steering wheel as you drum your fingers on it, waiting for the light to turn green. You’ve spent the last week brainstorming ideas of what Javy’s grand plans for today would entail but instead, he surprised you by texting you last night to meet him at the arena, which seems odd since he has the day off, but you didn’t question it, knowing he probably has something in mind. He told you to dress warm but the anxiety gnawing at your gut has your brain convinced that the sleeves of your sweater are itchy. You scratch your arm for what seems like the hundredth time as you gaze at Hard Deck Arena looming ahead of you as the light finally turns green.

As expected, the private parking garage is almost empty but you spot Javy’s Land Rover and you park next to it. A quick peer inside the neighboring car confirms that Javy’s not there. You’ve been to the arena a few times now but you still can’t shake the feeling that you’re intruding as you step out of the car, wiping your sweaty palms off on your jeans before you make your way to the door and swiping the guest pass Zam hooked you up with a few weeks back.

The hallways are eerily quiet with the day off and the normally raucous atmosphere of the players and staff being absent. You pause, halfway down a dimly lit hallway, fishing your phone out of your pocket before you call Javy. You don’t hear a phone ring in your vicinity and you can’t help but feel a sense of foreboding. Did he stand you up? Even worse, are the lights about to come on and reveal a hidden camera? Is this all a prank? A familiar sense of unease twists your stomach and your heartbeat is so loud in your ears that you miss the click of the line picking up.

“Meep, are you here?” Javy’s voice in your ear makes you jump and you spin around like you’re expecting him to appear behind you.

“Javy?” You question the shadows around you. He chuckles in your ear.

“Hold on, Meep, I’m coming to get you. Hang tight.” His voice stops but the line doesn’t cut, a quiet reminder that you’re not alone except for the sounds of his muffled footsteps on the other side of the line as you do your best to ignore the dimly lit hallway around you as you await his arrival.

Contrary to his explicit instructions to you, Javy’s wearing a fitted t-shirt, arms bare and glowing under the dim LEDs as he jogs down the hallway towards you, grinning boyishly. He takes you by surprise when he doesn’t stop, barreling into you and sweeping you into his arms as you let out a squeal of surprise, arms instinctively reaching for his neck to hold on tight as your feet leave the ground. “Hi,” his voice is breathless with giddiness as he greets you, dark eyes boring into your own, mouth spread in a wide grin as he holds your body against his, the heat radiating off him a comfortable aura that you’re shamelessly drawn to.

“Hi,” you breathe back as the air comes back into your lungs and you gaze at him, lips slightly parted in surprise. Your mind goes back to yesterday and you nervously let the words on your tongue escape, heart fluttering at the vulnerable honestly. “I missed you.” His face is like the sun as he beams at you, surely a mirror of yours yesterday when he let the same admission slip. He rubs his nose against yours affectionately, the warmth rolling off his skin in waves meeting the shy heat of yours.

“I missed you too, Meep.” Your body relaxes instantly, reassured the moment he reciprocates. He puts you down then, but even once your feet are safe on the ground again, he keeps you caged in his arms, pressed tightly against him. He doesn’t seem keen on inviting space between your bodies and you’re hard-pressed to argue.

“So,” your curiosity bubbles to the surface from where it’s been percolating all week. “What are we doing here?” You ask, and you watch boyish mirth dance in Javy’s eyes as his lips quirk into a ghost of a smirk.

“So impatient,” he teases, leaning down to peck your cheek as your skin tightens beneath his lips as you scowl at him, no anger behind the twist of your lips. He chuckles as he pecks your pouted lips, effectively sending your brain into a tizzy. It’s still getting used to all this casual attention after years spent lacking it. “Alright then, my little roadrunner, let’s go,” your body instantly bemoans the loss of contact he pulls away but he makes up for it, sliding his hand unto yours and lacing your fingers together like he too can’t bear to not be touching.

He leads you down the dimly lit hallway with a familiarity you envy. Your feet almost stumble as you reach a slight incline and then you catch sight of light at the top. When you emerge into the arena, the contrast of the blindingly bright LEDs compared to the dimness your eyes have adjusted to makes you blink rapidly, struggling to adjust quickly to get your bearings. The cooler air confirms your suspicion until your eyes adjust to the blinding sight of the lights bouncing off the white of the ice rink. Javy waits patiently next to you as your eyes adjust and your frown of discomfort shifts into one of confusion. He clocks the difference and leads you through a clear door into the bench area. You’ve seen it through the glass before but you’ve never been in here. It seems laughably small considering that it’s meant to house several dozen men in bulky gear. You make your way to the boards that you’ve watched the boys swing over effortlessly, eyes widening as you see where it falls in comparison to your body, realizing exactly how much upper body strength it must take. You’re not sure you could do it, let alone piled under the extra pounds of hockey gear. You shake your head in disbelief before turning to where Javy’s watching you, seated on the bench.

“This is amazing,” he grins at your words.

“Just wait until we get out there, Meep.” He says, grin widening as your stomach drops and the puzzle pieces start falling into place.

“Out. There?” You squeak even as your brain has already descended into chaos as you glance from Javy’s smiling face to the white ice stretching out ahead of you. Anxiety rises up and claws up your throat as you realize exactly what Javy has planned. “Oh,” the word is a soft exhale and it must betray your fear because Javy reaches for your hands, pulling you closer and turning you to face him. “I can’t skate.” The words flood past your lips, splattering into the floor between you, laced with nerves and fear and you watch Javy’s eyes soften. He rubs circles into the flesh of your hands where they’ve started to tremble in his hold.

“I know, Meep,” he says and it doesn’t reassure you. “Nat told me, so I figured maybe I could teach you.” Your eyes widen in surprise as you slowly put things together. You look away from his gentle gaze back to the rink, the bright expanse daunting as it glows back at you. You swallow, fear sticking in your throat. Javy lets go of one of your hands, reaching to turn your chin back towards him, cupping your cheek, and sweeping his thumb across your trembling skin. “It’s okay,” he soothes gently. “I won’t let you fall.” The words are like hot water, thawing the ice of the nerves encasing your heart. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You believe him.

His smile turns rueful as he squeezes the hand still holding yours. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, though.” Your heart squeezes painfully. “We can get out of here, forget it ever happened. We’ll go get some dinner and then we can eat at my place.” He keeps up the gentle strokes of fingers against your skin. Your nerves are still present, deep in your stomach, licking painfully at your gut but your heart glows at Javy’s words. “Don't worry about it, either. This day is for you. If you’re not comfortable, it’s not worth it.” The aching of your heart is overwhelming, drowning out the twisting of your stomach and you shake your head.

“No, I want to.” Your voice doesn’t sound convincing so you clear your throat, squeezing his hand in yours. “I’ll be okay. I want to try at least.” He smiles, soft, as he scans your face, looking for any signs that your words aren’t genuine. When he’s convinced you aren��t doing this for him, he tugs your hand, gently, standing and switching places, carefully guiding you to sit on the bench as he stands in front of you.

“Sit tight,” he says and you nod as he steps over the bench to fuss with something behind you. While you wait, you nervously bring your gaze back to the ice rink. It looks cold and unforgiving. A thought pops into your mind as you wait for Javy.

“Javy, I don’t have skates,” the words die on your lips as he steps back in front of you, and your eyes fall on the box he’s holding in his hands. It’s clumsily wrapped in pink patterned paper with a bow awkwardly perched on top and he hands you it, an embarrassed smile on his face.

“Sorry, it’s not the neatest job. I probably should have just gone with a bag, but I’d already committed to the paper, and I figured since it was just a box it couldn’t be that hard.” Your eyes soften as he blubbers in front of you and you take his hand in yours, squeezing gently.

“I love it.” You reassure him and you watch the nerves seep out of his body, shoulders slumping in relief. You let go of his hand so you can unwrap the box on your lap, being careful not to tear the paper too much. You know you’re going to want to keep it. Maybe you’ll try your hand at a mixed-media piece and you can find a way to incorporate it. Adding some of his work into yours. The box inside is nondescript and you open it, breath catching in surprise as you unfold the tissue paper inside to reveal its contents.

The blades of the skates sparkle under the bright lights and you reach a curious finger out to run along the surface. The skates are simple but beautiful. As you reach to pull one out to examine it better, the paper falls away and your heart clenches as a simple detail catches your eye. Along the ankle portion of the skate is a custom patch depicting the Looney Tunes Roadrunner. A surprised laugh bubbles up your throat as you run a revenant finger along the patch. When you lift the skate, you see a matching patch of Wile E. Coyote on the other skate. Your lips quirk into a smile as you look up at Javy where he’s watching you.

“They’re perfect,” you assure him and his smile widens. “I love them, thank you Javy,” you reach for him awkwardly, trying not to drop the box on your lap and he closes the gap so you can give him a hug. When he pulls away, he drops to one knee in front of you, easing the skate box off your lap and placing it on the floor by your feet he holds out a hand, and you flush as you offer him your leg, feeling silly as you watch him carefully remove your shoe and guides the skate onto your socked foot, lacing up the skate, glancing up to make sure he hasn’t pulled it too tight.

When he finishes, he takes a seat next to you, lacing his skates up with a practiced speed. Then he stands, and you gawk, looking down to see how he’s standing balanced on the blades, your nerves quickly resurfacing at the idea of having to do the same. He clocks your expression and gives you a gentle smile as he steps over to you, holding out his hands. “I told you, Meep. I won’t let you fall.” You swallow, hard, before placing your trembling fingers in his. Javy’s brow furrows and he bends down, rummaging through the box at your feet, before he produces a pair of gloves and guides them into your shaking hands. Then he laces your fingers together again. “Ready?” You nod and he squeezes your linked hands and pulls, gently helping you ease off the bench. You’re surprised when balancing isn’t as hard as you expected.

Javy carefully leads you across the rubber flooring to the small door in the boards, slipping through and holding it open with his hip and you stare at the ice. “Whenever you’re ready, take your time,” Javy says comfortingly, waiting patiently for you. You swallow before raising a trembling leg and placing your skate on the ice. You feel the blade slide through the ice and gasp. Javy’s hand tightens on yours and you look up from the ice to meet his eyes. “I’ve got you,” he reassures you and you squeeze his other hand and carefully step your other foot onto the ice. Your footing is much less sure now, and your legs tremble like a baby deer as your wide eyes go from the ice to Javy’s. “There you go, look at you, Meep. You’re doing it.” His pride is a little premature, you know that, but your chest still swells under his praise. “You ready to move?” You swallow, throat feeling dry, but you manage to nod anyway. He carefully pushes off, still holding tightly to your hand and he skates backward, effortlessly, slowly pulling you after him.

“Javy!” The surprise of how easily he moves and the strange feeling of gliding behind him forces the cry out of your mouth. Your weight feels unbalanced and your feet not having a proper grip on the ground is disorienting.

Javy slows to a stop, pulling you in so you’re close to him. Your hands grip his forearms tightly. “Easy, Meep, I’ve got you. Okay so to balance you’re going to want to bring your center of gravity lower, kind of reach for your knees. I’m going to let you go and-”

“NO!” You shout, fear gripping your heart at the idea of having to let go of Javy.

“Hey, hey,” Javy placates gently as your wild eyes find his. He’s calm and you force yourself to focus on him, to even your breathing. “Even if I let go, I’m right here, okay? I won’t let you fall. The moment you need me, I’ll be right here.” You swallow, hard. You’re scared which you know is ridiculous. The worst thing that can happen to you is that you fall and Javy’s reassured you that he’ll catch you if you do. You need to trust him. You do trust him. Despite the racing of your heart, you nod weakly.

“Okay,” you hate how small your voice sounds. “Okay, I can try.” Javy beams down at you.

“That’s my girl,” he praises and you feel your entire body go hot. His words echo in your ears with your heartbeat and you feel stronger. “Okay, I’m going to let go, okay? Just reach for your knees, you won’t fall.” Your heart thunders as Javy’s fingers slip from yours and you feel yourself start to wobble. “Reach for your knees,” Javy’s voice breaks through your panic and you feel your center of gravity shift as you alter your stance, the wobbling evening out. Your eyes widen in surprise.

“I did it!” You cry, grinning giddily up at Javy and he grins back.

“You did it!” He reassures you and then skates back a few feet, holding his hand out. “Now try to move. See if you can come over to me. Just remember, it’s not like walking. Think about how you used to skid around in your socks as a kid.” You decide against pointing out that you still do that now. “You’re going to move with your knees and push.” He skates over to you slowly and your brows furrow in concentration as you watch his motions, committing them to memory so you can try and replicate them. “Here,” he skates over to stand beside you, “just copy me, and if you start to slip, I’ll grab you.” You watch his leg and follow with your own. Your attention is glued to his legs and replicating his movements. “There you go, you’re doing it!” Javy’s cheers snap your attention from his legs and you realize how far across the rink you’ve moved. Your eyes widen and you forget to move your feet. Unfortunately, unlike on the floor, when you stop moving your feet, you don’t stop moving and you continue to glide forward. You squawk in surprise as you realize you have no idea how to stop.

“Javy! Javy, I don’t know how to stop!” You shout and Javy’s quick to skate in front of you.

“Okay, easy now,” Javy says as your panic rises. “You’re going to bring the tips of your skates in, like the point of an arrow, and keep your weight in the center.” You fight the doubts warring in your mind and try to trust Javy’s instructions, moving your feet slowly, and to your surprise, you slow to a stop right in front of Javy. You gape at your skates attached to feet that don’t feel like yours before looking at Javy who’s wearing a proud grin. “Attagirl! You did it!” He cheers, wrapping you in his arms and you sink into his before realizing that’s probably a bad idea as your combined weights are unbalanced. Javy shifts his weight almost instinctively, keeping the two of you from bowling over. “What did I say, I won’t let you fall, pretty girl.” You feel your cheeks heat as you relish being in his arms. “You did so well, Meep, I’m proud of you.” His pride warms you from head to toe and makes you feel confident. “You all skated out, or do you want to try some more?” He’s giving you an out and your new-found confidence has you shaking your head.

“I think I want to try some more,” you see pride and joy sparkle in his eyes and he helps you rearrange your weight so you can stand on your own again.

“Well then, let’s see what you’ve got, Roadrunner,” he grins at you. “You think this Coyote can catch you?” You know he could without breaking a sweat but you play along.

“We’ll just have to see,” you tease as you carefully start moving across the ice again and Javy follows right behind, sticking close.

***

An hour later, you’re exhausted and your legs are trembling from that rather than nerves as you and Javy sit side by side on the bench, unlacing your skates and trading them for your shoes. Strands of your hair stick to your forehead that’s somehow managed to get a little sweaty despite the chilly air.

“So, did you have fun?” Javy asks as he scoops up his skates, offering you his free hand to help you back to your feet. You nod, a giddy grin still on your face. You weren’t anywhere close to his level of skill but by the end, you were a lot more confident moving across the ice. And Javy had kept his promise, you hadn’t fallen once.

“Thanks for this, Javy, really. I loved it.” He pulls you into his side, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“It was perfect,” he agrees before he pulls away so he can see your face as he asks, “What do you say to doing this again next weekend, maybe with some more company?” You cock your head, confused before he explains. “Next weekend is Family Day, where all the guys bring their girls and their families to the rink. We all just hang out and skate. There’s a potluck after and it’s just a team bonding event. I’ve been meaning to ask you to come but I knew you didn’t know how to skate and I didn’t want you to have to feel pressured to learn in front of a bunch of strangers. So I planned this, and I’d say you’re more than good enough to come if that’s something you want to do.”

Your heart pounds even as it aches at Javy’s concern for your comfort. You nod without a second thought. “I’d love to come, Javy.” You squeeze his hand in yours. “And thanks for looking out for me, I really appreciate it.” He smiles, the relief on his face is like watching the sun come out from behind the clouds and you smile back. “I can’t wait.” You assure him, snuggling against his side and he wraps you in his arms.

“Me neither,” he says and you can’t help but feel that despite the nerves and jitters, today has been perfect. You’re glad you didn’t let your nerves and anxiety ruin this perfect day, and you’re even more thankful to Javy for making you feel safe enough to have this much fun. You wouldn’t have been able to do it without him.

A/N: And with that, the Valentine’s Day festivities come to an end! But there’s plenty more to look forward to on the horizon! Which are you most excited for?

[jolalibrary]

viii. tomorrow I'll be gone, save tonight

javier peña x f!reader | chapter eight of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: fluff. flirting. continuous romcom vibes. fluff. falling in love. idiots in love. we're approaching the sadness ✨ wordcount: 3.4k.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

It takes longer to get going the next day—mainly due to the number of times one of you begins pulling the other close.

A simple kiss here, a nuzzle there.

The morning ticking away as the two of you remain blissfully happy under hotel sheets. All undressed, sated and smiling.

Now, he’s basking in your laugh.

Laughing at him as he tries (poorly) to explain and rationalise his low score on Snakes. The game you had told him about to begin with.

Tears falling from the edges of your eyes as he tries to argue his case repeatedly. Your little wheeze making his heart clench with joy—your head shaking, hand cupping your mouth as each noise slips out.

“You’re clearly just not good with your fingers.”

He pinches you teasingly. “You know that’s not true.”

You're still smiling, your laugh fading as shyness begins to fall over your features. It starts with your eyes dropping to the bedsheets hiding both of your bare skin, and he waits for the feeble ‘stop’ that’s usually accompanied by a swat.

It never comes.

You lift your gaze back up instead, something twinkling, sparkling in your eyes. “Give it to me.”

“What?” 

Gesturing for his phone, you take it, all devious smirk with a wiggle of your shoulders. Throwing his arm behind his head, sighing—all blissful and content—as he leans against the headboard before you begin shifting in the sheets. Watching as you begin moving so your bare skin is on show as you do so. Slowly, and teasingly, you begin positioning yourself between his legs, as he sits up so your back connects with his chest. 

“Watch the master, okay?” 

He smirks, snorting. But he still slides his hands around your waist, feeling you twitch from the first feel of it before you relax. 

“So what’s the—“

“Shh,” you say, his lips sliding to your cheek, smelling the lingering scent of your perfume from dinner last night—and the two of you. 

His eyes fix on the screen. Watching the digital serpent slide around the screen to the sound of your key clicks—each pixel-bit collected as the tail grows longer. Your movements are quick—far quicker than he can text, never mind play this—

“Wait, you can go through walls?” 

“This one… this one you can,” you reply, words dropping off, concentration hanging on each syllable. 

It’s odd to be in awe of someone in how they control a snake across a screen. But he is. The score racked up, far surpassing the one that took him an embarrassing amount of time. 

Then, the screen flashes, your groan so cute—grunting out of you as you shake your head in annoyance. 

“You should take this off me.” 

“Competitive, are we?” 

Smirking, you hand him the phone as he casts it to the side with relative ease. More focused on keeping you here, close, skin to skin. 

“How am I even meant to beat that score?” His lips find the skin behind your ear.  

“You’ll have to try real hard.” 

“You’re devious.”

“I prefer menace.” 

He’s about to agree, your mouth connecting with his—stealing them. Feeling the way you’re trying to punctuate something to him with your lips. Fingers brushing over his cheek, over the edge of the hair above his lip, before you slowly stop, lashes lifting to shower him in something which both shatters him and heals him all at once. 

“I should shower. Alone.” 

His mouth twists as he fights a smirk, all reluctant to let you leave this time. Like he had been the last time, his fingers softly holding your wrist, as you mumble about being quick, that if he was taking you out for the day, you wanted to not stink of sex. 

Something he wouldn’t have complained about, personally. Until he remembers the scent of your body wash. The one which has been burying itself inside of him, a flurry of softness and sweetness that if he ever smells a single ingredient of it, he’ll think of you. 

“I do wanna take you on all the dates, baby. So, go. Shower. Otherwise, I’ll never get the chance.”

You look over your shoulder, bent over your case. “All of them?” 

“Need to cram in all I can until…”

His words fade as he feels himself lurch. The noticeable hole in his chest began to widen—the one first appearing when you fell asleep in his arms last night.

Now, though, he gets to watch your reaction too. A front-row seat to your bottom lip wobbling, eyes averting him—as though you’re splitting apart two.

He doesn’t think. He just moves. Javi's feet kick the sheets free as he walks over to you. “Yeah, let’s… let’s not talk about that.” 

Burying his lips against yours to rid you of any remainders of it, as he positions your body back against him where he can. The wall greeting your back, his palm boxing you in until the two of you forget all about the impending deadline—and only about the now. 

“Javi…”

He groans, pressing his forehead to yours. “I know. You want a shower.”

Your fingers tap his chest lightly, forcing his head to lift, lips pressing a kiss to your hairline before turning. 

Sighing, he runs his hand over his face—hearing the bathroom door close—as the sheets crinkle back beneath him, blending with the falling water coming from the room next to him. 

He was happy. 

Ridiculously so. It runs through him together with looser muscles and more relaxed nerves. It swims inside his chest and balloons his heart. Mainly, it sits in his cheeks—the ones slowly beginning to ache from how often he’s been sporting that grin only you can pull from him. 

should I be worried about how long youre in the store for 

The woman in front of me is returning her entire life and then using coupons to buy a new life. Kill me.

cant. unfortunately I would miss you 

You’d replace with me ease. Have you seen your face?

can’t replace you hermosa but hurry up before I begin taking a bite out of each of the donuts 

You wouldn’t dare.

Id dare because the glazed one looks good 

“We could do nothing.”

It’s not that he hadn’t thought of (or planned) what the two of you could do together, he just hadn’t expected to burn through them all so quickly.

It didn’t help that it had been a while—too long—since he’d dated a person. Rarely ever making it past the first date. Most of them being dinner or coffee, or not even making it to either and finding himself getting what he needed without learning their surname.

Smirking, he runs his tongue across his teeth. “Nothing isn’t a date.”

“Not that way, we do nothing,” you retort, and he shakes his head as he grins. “We’ve done a restaurant, a museum, a picnic. We’ve done a lot.”

“We could go to the cinema?”

“But that means I can’t talk to you for over an hour.”

Javi smiles, hand running across his jaw. “Could make out at the back, though?”

Pulling a face, you sigh. “You drive a hard bargain, you do. But—”

“Fine, no movies. Another time?”

Grinning, you lean back in the booth of the diner, the one you’d requested—determined to make your way through the menu before you left.

Smiling, you sigh contently. “One day, we won’t even need to question it. It’ll be like a weekday date thing we do—once a month, on a Wednesday.”

“You thought about it?”

You hum, glancing back over the menu—brows knitting as you attempt to choose. “What?”

“Us. Dating.”

Your eyes flash up, all wide, full of panic. “Is that… I guess—I mean, like I know this isn’t conventional in the slightest and—and we haven’t, like, talked about it. I… I’m fucking up, aren’t I? Shit—“

“Fuck, hermosa. No. I mean… us going on dates, together. After this week—in one location, a setting a plan.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Swallowing, you shift in your spot. “Um. Yeah, I have. The location is foggy, naturally.”

“Naturally.”

Your eyes fall to the table, fingers tapping along the plastic as you do. “I—I know… well, because I know you have the ranch and your pop, Javi.”

He swallows, rolling his lips as you try to fake a smile. 

“So, I know what that means. As I’m sure, you do.” 

He doesn’t, not a single clue. His brain racks to find it—what it is that you mean—but you clear your throat, eviscerating any further attempt at a push for that information as you smile, significant—all beautiful and charming. 

“What about bowling?” 

“You’re a cheat.” 

Coming up behind you, he spins you on the spot. Welcomed immediately by your grin, the one he’s been able to admire on your face for the last hour.

“Don’t be like that, Spare. You did well. Only 28 points behind.”

Shoving a finger at his chest, shaking your head, “You blindfolded me for one.”

“So, I could kiss you.” 

Smirking, you slowly wrap your arms around his neck, his arms finding their place on your hips. A place they’ve come to know as home. “You were worried about me winning, weren’t you?” 

“You were showing me up.”

“Bet if we went shooting, you’d beat me—Mr DEA,” you say, the latter all a whisper. 

“You’d go shooting?”

“Oh, fuck no. I can barely be trusted at the fair to shoot those little tin cans off the stand—you should not, I repeat not, put a gun in my hand.”

Beaming, he draws shapes with his thumbs. “Alright, noted.” 

Watching you from the corner of his eye as you grin, fidgeting with your jacket before you look up, and come to a stop. Something flashes across your face, glee—excitement—your head twisting to meet him. 

Then your hand slides inside his, the other hand wrapping around his wrist. He doesn’t fight the way you pull him towards it. The little photobooth you’d eyed up in the bowling alley. 

“Please?”

As if he could ever say no. 

Your legs over his, bodies crammed in the small space as he slides the dollar in. Your face is full of glee, your body bursting with excitement. 

I’ve always wanted to do one of these. 

There’s no decision on poses, you pressing your cheek to his as you slap the button, and the two of you grin on command. FLASH. Then after, it’s a quick reposition of movements that the two of you both seem to understand as you both pull a silly face. FLASH.

The next, he’s sure time slows for. Javi’s head turning, eyes lingering on you as your laugh blossoms across your features. His heart thundering in his chest, hammering so loud and heavy as that familiar, wanted, feeling flares up inside of him.

It isn’t until the next flash does he realise how wide he’s smiling. Feels it in his cheeks, as the light illuminates the flecks in your eyes—the ones he wants to fall into and never leave.

Then, time resumes, you leaning in—hand on his cheek, nose tip to his: the almost kiss.

FLASH.

Neither of you move. The two of you hovering as the photos finishes, the machine whirring—

“Kiss me,” you whisper, lips ghosting over his.

And who is he to deny you? Javi would kiss you forever if he could, so he slants his mouth over yours, feeling that rush of warmth in his chest that he gets when he kisses you. When he gets to, your smile presses against him, his fingers sliding up your neck. 

“You’re so handsome, Javi.” 

He smiles, thumb brushing your cheek as the machine spits out the two copies. Your arm diving, body twisting from him as you do—taking them, handing him one. 

But he doesn’t even stare down at his own copy. Javi just watches as you take in yours. How your eyes flick down each one, alternating smiles as you take them all in—lingering back up to the third. 

Just like he is. 

“We look good.”  

You grin, swallowing. “We do.”

You married yet?

shut up murphy 

Tell her I said hi. 

Javier Peña had wished for a lot of things when he was in Colombia.

A lead. A break. To catch Escobar. To take down the cartel. To keep himself intact—to leave with his head held high.

Then he wished for nothing. No reason to, no hope or want that even allowed the thought of one to appear, never mind to request it.

Now all he was doing was wishing.

As each hour of your last day together ticks on, he longs for more. Prays for a phone call that tells you that you can stay—craves a justifiable reason to throw you in his truck and take you back with him.

There isn’t one.

Just a looming goodbye and a prickling pain that’s biting at the edges of happiness and adoration.

He’d wanted to take you for food, but you’d insisted on drinks. Finding your leg between his as you tell him about your friend moving for her new job, about your childhood and how you had a goldfish once.

In the last few days, the two of you had shared so much, that the missing pieces of who the other is began to fill. He’d told you bits about Colombia, his Mom, Laredo.

You’d told him about work, about the people you meet—the issues you have to sort. The things in your apartment, the things you do with Aish and the life you live.

But, the confession that gets to him, is spoken softer, dropped into conversation nervously—as though you’ve been worrying about speaking it:

I like all the things we’ve been doing, but I have missed doing the crossword with you.

It’s that declaration that makes him talk about why. Allows him share that he likes doing them with you too, having done them for something to do—no pressure after Colombia, just a puzzle that needed solving.

Javi isn’t stupid, he knows there’s a bigger reason as to why he likes doing them, and with you. Why they have fallen to the wayside as soon as he had you in his arms. It pulses in his chest and drums along his bones.

And then you take his hand, as though knowing it too. Clutching it tight, a thousand questions bubbling about Colombia, but are never spoken. Because you don’t ask, don’t push.

I know you’ll tell me when you’re ready.

Your words make his heart soar. Make the beer on the table fall over as he leans across to kiss you, to cup your cheeks and thank you with his tongue behind your teeth.

Now, he’s glancing over at you���watching you with your legs crossed, eyes shimmering from alcohol. You wrap cheese around your finger, licking it from your skin before taking a large bite. 

“This pizza may be the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

His mouth slides into a smirk, all about to make a comment when your eyes land on him. 

“Second to you, of course.”

“You been around me a week, and look at the tongue you have on you.”

“Yeah, you’re a bad influence.”

Leaning back, he wipes his fingers on a napkin. “You mind?” 

Shifting his weight on the floor, he watches as you chew—the back of your hand covering your mouth as your eyes roll, chewing more furiously. He shifts again, feeling something digging in, moving his hand to his back pocket of jeans, only to pull out a strip of photos.

The ones taken a day ago. 

His fingers unfold them as he hears you clear your throat, reaching for your red cup filled with wine as his eyes land on the third one down. The one where you’re laughing, spotting how he’s looking at you—not sure if he ever remembers seeing that look on his face in any other photo or in the mirror. 

“No, I—”

“Baby.”

He doesn’t mean to interrupt, but it's sitting on his chest again. Rising and falling like waves, and he’s tired of waiting for the storm to pass. Especially when he doesn’t want it to.

Javi wants it. You. Him. So much so, it’s close to erupting from him. The confession which has been sitting there, growing with each minute he spends with you until it thumps independently to his heart and feelings. A thing which has grown, expanded until it's now filling the space in him that he always imagined would be vast and empty. 

“Javi…”

“I want those dates with you. Cinema ones, once a month.”

Watching as your mouth falls open, hand furiously wipes the pizza dust from your fingers onto a napkin as you turn on your hip to face him. 

Clearing your throat, you sigh. “Me too. But, I know you have feelings on long distance, but—“

“Wait. What? What makes you say that?” 

Shrugging, you avert your eyes, lips rolling together nervously. “You said the other day, about how you almost got married. Before the DEA. That you were glad. That the distance wouldn’t have worked, and it meant you could focus.” 

His brow raises, waiting, wondering. 

Thinking there’s more—there has to be. The pieces not fitting, until they slowly slide into view. Your words in the diner, I know what that means. As I’m sure you do.

“Baby, no—”

“Did I… Did I put two and two together?” 

Taking your hand, pizza dust be damned, he sighs. “I… it was complicated. I just… I didn’t wanna marry her, but I didn’t want you to think I was an asshole for that. For leaving her, the way I did—I probably didn’t explain it well. But, it’s different with us. I want to make this work with you.”

His grip tightens on your hand, fingers lifting your chin so your eyes have nowhere else to look other than his. 

“So, we don’t see one another every week. We’ll plan it—talk like we did before, and make sure we have phone dates.” 

Nodding, he watches as your eyes fill with tears. Shimmering, making the flecks in your eyes stand out even more. 

“You don’t think I’m too much?”

His eyes widen, face softening—realising he's doing it again, the puppy face (as you so eloquently called it a day ago).

“No. Not in the slightest. I told you—baby, I never think that. Haven’t once.”

You look surprised, but you swallow it—smiling instead. “It won’t be easy.”

And he wants to laugh. Because he knows that. He knows hard. He’s faced hard, run through and been smacked with hard.

This with you, it could never be described as that. It’s easy, like breathing or existing.

So he cups your cheek, seeing you visibly sobering under the conversation. “I think we can do it.”

It’s more a statement, than a question. Watching you think it over, all unreadable, anxiousness fluttering in his stomach.

“I know we can,” he adds. “Until one day…”

“One day,” you repeat, as though turning the words over on your tongue. “Are you… are you sure?”

Looping his fingers around your neck, he presses his forehead to yours. Intimate, close—romantic. “Of course, baby. I want this—you, us. Do… Do you?” 

A tear falls, skidding down the apple of your cheek as you smile. “Of course. I… I may have cried in the shower this morning… because I didn’t want to say goodbye.” 

He sighs, light—shifting the weight which had been resting on him and closing the hole in his chest. Pressing his lips to your forehead, thumb and fingers stroking your cheek. 

“I can’t let you go, baby,” he whispers, resting his lips against your forehead. 

His ears hear the faint sound of me, either, before your fingers wrap around his wrist, forcing his head to move back before your lips burn the reply against his.

Over, and over, again.

It begins tender, warm—tinged with other words he’s not sure he’s meant to hear—before it moves to something that burns. Your touch is like flames, leaving marks against him he never wants to vanish or be rid of. It grows messy, his tongue licking into your mouth as the pizza lays forgotten as you move into his lap. 

Thighs on either side, fingers in his hair as he grabs your waist tight, pinning you close, until he makes you stand. 

Then the bed is dipping, the sheets crinkling, and he has you close to him. His name falls from your lips as he whispers yours, the two names merging together—blending, just as the two of you are. His fingers spanning your hip, keeping you flush with him, nails in his hair.

Then he hears it, breathy and right up against his ear. 

Mine. 

His head pulls back, eyes staring into yours. “Todo mío.”

if you haven't already, please check out this gorgeous piece that was gifted to me by @ghostaholics 🩵 for this reason, this chapter, the many dates and the way they're falling, is dedicated all to you, G.

[lincolndjarin]

fine art

javi gutierrez x moviestar!reader - installment #1 of sparrow's spectacles

main masterlist - other spectacles - kofi

summary : you were an up and coming actress, javi is your biggest fan, he'd do anything to have meet you.

word count : 3.9k

warnings, tags : dead dove do not eat, !! dark fic !! mdni 18+, noncon, stalker!javi, kidnapping, capture, stockholm syndrome, m&f masturbation, sex toys, briefly mentioned periods, exhibitionism, voyurism, so much internal thought processing regarding readers situation, briefly referenced suicide, reader is undescribed other than briefly being mentioned as young in her acting career, in my head she's late twenties, probs other tags i missed sorry. tldr: you have spent so much time with javi against your will that you unwillingly start fantasizing about him and give in to destructive urges in an attempt to escape him, everything is bad here.

a/n : is this stupid and probably bad? who knows, i have a terrible sense of self judgement lately so i'm just gonna post this and hope it's good. also can you tell that i blatantly stole the set from You LMAO. anyhow this is the first installment of my little 'horror' series. but it's less horror and more just odd little stories i wanted to write tbh

Desk, bed, lamp, television, door, chair.

Desk, bed, lamp, television, door, chair.

Desk, bed, lamp, television, door, chair.

On days where you’re feeling particularly bored you list the things you can see. Unfortunately for you, your surroundings rarely change. Of course you could change that, if you asked him for something he’d give it to you, anything you wanted. Unless of course it was something he thought you could hurt yourself with or contact the outside world with. 

You didn’t often ask. 

Whenever you can have a conversation with him he always says the same thing. 

“If you stopped being so stubborn you might actually be happy.” 

“I would do anything for you.” “Then let me out.” “Anything but that.” 

“It’s not as terrible as you make it out to be. It isn’t an actual cage, it isn’t so bad.” 

So you don’t talk to him unless you have to. 

But some days you’re just so painfully, agonizingly, bored and you can’t help yourself. So you scream at him, or you pound on the unyielding plexiglass, or you hold your hand up against it, hoping he’ll touch the other side and you can briefly imagine yourself having physical contact with another human being. 

Sometimes you’ll even play his games. 

You’ll read the scripts he slides through the small square opening in the cage that can’t be more than a foot wide, and act out scenes with him simply because it gives you something to do and for fucks sake you’re desperate for something to do. It’s so easy to get caught up in him, if it wasn’t so easy you’d probably let yourself do it more often, thankfully, it’s so fucking scary. If you spend too much time in the box you’re worried that eventually you’ll forget that you aren’t a doll and you'll grow to like your box. So you do your damndest to maintain a wall between the two of you, but when that wall is glass it is destined to break eventually. So you scream and you fight until you get tired, and then you let the walls down as you rest, before returning to your struggle. And everytime you let the walls down they take longer to put back up. 

At the end of the day it never matters how you treat him, he loves you all the same. 

Even on days where you scream your throat raw and throw your furniture against the walls, if you ask him to get you takeout from your favorite restaurant, or watch a movie with you, he always will. You asked him about it once. Why didn't he just make you do what he wanted? Why didn’t he just make you obey? He had looked genuinely offended, as if he couldn’t believe you thought him capable of such a thing. 

And he told you that he loved you.

More than anything. 

That you were his most prized possession. 

That he would never do anything to hurt you, it would be like if he were angry and he threw a priceless vase, the only person it would hurt is himself. 

You had nodded as if he was making any sense and you’d turned back to the movie he’d picked out. 

You were a vase. 

You were a collectible. 

A priceless, collectable. He kept you in perfect condition and never took you out of the box. Not even to play with you himself. A small, rather demented part of you, is starting to wish that he would. Of course you don’t want him to force himself upon you, you aren’t that far gone. (Yet.) But it’s been so long since you’ve touched another person. You would give your left arm just to be held. If your calendar serves you well, it’s been just over two years since you last saw someone who wasn’t Javi. 

And Javi wouldn’t touch you. 

Not ever. You were too perfect to be defiled in such a way. He would sometimes hold his hand against the glass when you held up your own, he even kissed you through it once. (Although it had been rather awkward and neither one of you ever talked about it again.) But he never touched you. 

Sometimes you can’t help but wonder what would have happened if you’d met Javi in a social setting. He is rather handsome, and though you hate to admit it, when he isn’t leering he’s almost charming. 

Almost.

Everyday you slip further into the fantasy where Javi does something to break up the monotony. Is that his goal? To make you so desperate for human connection that you eventually snap and beg him to touch you? You shudder as you wonder how long that would take. After the first year you stopped wondering what would happen when he got bored of you. You know deep down that that will never happen. If anything his devotion  for you only continues to grow with each passing day. If it’s possible he probably loves you more now then he did at the start of your stay here. Despite everything he takes care of you, in his own strange sort of way. 

Like how he tracks your cycle, always making sure you have anything you need on those days. Sometimes he even knows it’s starting before you do, he’ll bring you baskets with blankets and candy and any other little trinket or gift he saw that made him think of you. 

Jewelry, little plush toys, and books. Anything to try and make you feel anything other than the misery that constantly loomed over you as you waited for his next visit. He never goes more than a few days without seeing you and he always apologizes when he does. He returns with your favorite shampoo or lotion to make it up to you, but it never really changes how you feel about him. It’s nice to fantasize a world in which you enjoy your only source of company but you’re careful to never let that fantasy bleed into reality. 

If he were actually your partner you’d have locked him down ages ago. A part of you knows that he doesn’t want that kind of relationship with you though. He doesn’t want a girlfriend, you’re much more than that. You’re more like a goddess in a cage to him than an actual human being. A beloved pet bird. It’s clear he feels something more than simple love for you. It’s a devotion, a conscious effort to worship you. 

You are to be kept in pristine condition. 

Of course that doesn’t mean he can’t look. 

Two and a half years. 

That’s how long it took for the looking to escalate into something more. You were watching a movie. 

50 First Dates

You had picked it out, Javi liked action movies but would never complain when you wanted to watch a rom-com. You were on your bed, curled up under the blankets in a hoodie and sweatpants. You haven’t worn makeup since he took you, you rarely brushed your hair, you never put much thought into your appearance, and Javi wouldn’t give you a mirror. 

You had one, a long time ago. Within the first week you’d smashed it, threatening to slit your own throat if he didn’t let you out. All that resulted in was you no longer being allowed to have breakables. Plastic cutlery and paper plates were wordlessly passed to you from that point forward.

You had been watching in silence, he sat on the couch outside the cage like he always did and it wasn’t until you heard a shuddering groan that you turned around to see him kneeling beside the cage, one hand pressed up against the glass, steadying himself, the other wrapped around his cock.  

You were frozen in place. 

What are you supposed to do in that situation? 

You watched, slack jawed as he took his time. His gaze made you feel naked, like he could see through the layers of blankets and baggy clothing. 

He had looked you in the eye when he finished. Briefly staring wide eyed before his eyes squeezed shut and with a long, drawn out moan and a strained cry of your name. His cum painted the glass and before you could form any sort of response he was already stuffing himself back into his pants and standing. You want to say something, anything. Something to hold him accountable for what he just did, but you can’t think of anything, and he’s already leaving. 

Before you can even blink he’s gone, without so much as a glance in your direction. And you’re left alone, in the lamp light, unable to escape the sight of his filth on the glass. Covering your head with a blanket as you waited for it to be late enough for the power to cut out and leave you in a safe, and comfortable darkness. 

A part of you hoped that the white speckles would be gone when you woke up but you weren’t that lucky. 

You faced away from that wall, with your head buried in a book until you looked at the clock and knew it was almost time to face him again. When he returned he had an aura of shame around himself, his arms were full of grocery bags and his eyes were red rimmed and teary. 

“I’m so sorry- I just- I love you so much, I don’t know what came over me.” If this was a normal relationship and the two of you had maybe gotten into an argument or something you would have forgiven him. After all he looked genuinely remorseful as he stared at you, going through the bags before setting down several takeout containers with labels you recognized. He had gone out and gotten all your favorites. Your favorite fast food place, as well as a high end chinese restaurant you loved for special occasions, and a clear plastic case with a slice of your favorite flavored cake from a small bakery near your apartment that you frequented. (You’d never asked him to get you anything from there before, you’d never even mentioned the place to him.) 

Through his mumbled apologies he set down your favorite bubble tea flavor and a water bottle. 

He had passed everything to you through the opening in the cage with trembling hands as he sniffled. Once you had everything he sprayed the drying remnants of his release with Windex, pulling several paper towels off the roll and wiping it until it was as if it never happened. By the time he was finished his cheeks were red and big tears rolled down his face. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Before you can stop yourself you’re comforting him, as if he’s the victim in this situation. 

“It’s not okay, I don’t want you to think that that’s why you’re here.” He mumbles sadly, letting his forehead hit the glass. Through your disgust for your own words you sense something else.

Opportunity. 

The only chance you’re going to get for escape involves him unlocking the door. Something he hasn’t done since he put you in here in the first place. You’ve tried in the past. Not often, there weren’t very many chances, you had everything you needed here, running water and a bathroom, any other sustenance was provided by him through the little opening. There was so rarely an opportunity, and when there were he always anticipated your plans before you got to put them into motion. But you’ve never tried deception. You think you would have, considering you’re an actress but it had never crossed your mind until just now. You can’t half ass this though. If you decide to do this you will get one chance to do it right. 

Go big or go home. 

“No really, it’s okay. It’s sort of… flattering.” His face drops the second you say it and regret starts creeping in. You’re going to die here. He’s going to keep you here until the day you die and no one will ever know what happened to you. A young starlight, taken out in her prime. 

“It’s not, it’s disgusting.” He tosses the paper towels away, sniffling to himself as he stands with his hands clasped in front of him, swaying anxiously back and forth. You take a seat on your bed across from him, fighting the urge to put your hand on the glass. You don’t want to lay it on too thick, he’ll see right through that. 

“It’s fine, it’s- it’s natural.” You’re struggling to find the right words that make it feel real. At one point you were a rather talented actress but you’re out of practice. “Seriously. Especially from you. It’s really sweet.” Fuck, are you doing too much?

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he chews his lip as he stares at you, you can tell he’s skeptical. He should be. You so rarely speak to him and when you do it’s never to be kind. 

“Actions speak louder than words.” 

Someone said that in a movie Javi picked, you had sat and let him read the scene to you afterwards. 

He wants an actress, you can give him that. You can perform, as long as that’s all it is. If it’s a performance you can keep your wall up. You stumble off the bed, your legs feeling like jelly as you pull open the drawer on your nightstand. 

This plan feels stupider by the minute but you need to commit.

He didn’t gift you sex toys the way he did with other little things to make you happier. But they were always just sort of there. In their original packaging, shoved in your nightstand drawer with a few batteries he’d left as well, they’d been here when you woke up in the cage. You doubt you’ll be able to relax enough to do this without a little help, and you have to be convincing. If you aren’t believable he’s unlikely to trust you in the future. If you fuck this up now you’ll never get another chance. 

It’s a pale pink rabbit. You’d probably never buy something like it for yourself, it looks… expensive. The silicone is smooth against your fingers as you rip open the packaging, twisting the base open to pop in two batteries. Rushing in an attempt to not lose your nerve. When you gather your courage you risk a glance up at him, just fast enough to watch his tongue dart out and wet his lips.

So he does want this. 

Good. 

Pressing the button on the toy makes it buzz to life.  

Okay. 

This isn’t so bad. It’s just masturbating, if you do this for him you can take advantage of the obvious attraction he has for you. Even if it doesn’t work immediately, eventually this ends with him letting you out, or at the very least letting himself in, which is all you need. 

So you get back into bed, and you lean on a stack of pillows before really focusing on him. 

And you ask him the question he didn’t bother to ask you.

“Is this okay?” You hope the trembling in your voice comes off as endearing. 

His throat bobs as he nods. Maybe he doesn’t mind that you’ve been laying it on a little thick. Maybe you’ve denied him your affections for so long that he doesn’t want to risk rejecting any advance from you. No matter how out of the blue it seems/.

You push your sweats down to your ankles before kicking them off the bed. No time for embarrassment or regret now, if he senses hesitation none of this will be worth it. He’s moved to be sitting on the couch directly outside the cage now. His knees pressed together as he sits with his hands in his lap, looking almost comically polite. 

No sense putting off the inevitable. 

It’s been a while, there’s a camera in the corner of the cage so you don’t masturbate often, and when you do it’s late at night, once the lights are off and you can hide under your blanket. You can’t do that now though, that would defeat the purpose. 

You leave the toy off as you shove it down the front of your panties. Pressing the soft head of it against your slit, finding it surprisingly easy to tease your entrance with it. 

Are you wet? 

It’s been a while, that’s why. 

Javi certainly hasn’t wasted any time. If he were sitting any closer he’d be fogging up the glass, his hand is shoved down his pants, his face already flushed red. His usual rigid posture is lost as he leans back into the couch cushions, refusing to tear his eyes off of you. Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth you push the toy into you, holding back a gasp as you swallow. At least it feels sort of good. Good enough to make you wish you’d swallowed your pride and used this before today. 

Your body moves instinctually as your free hand reaches forward to push your panties down and turn the vibe on in one motion, the silicone attachment pressing against your clit as you press the toy deeper into your pussy. It’s a little too easy to relax suddenly. Javi now slowly strokes himself, his cock in his hand, looking painfully hard as he squeezes the base of his shaft, almost as if he’s scared of blowing his load too soon. 

Good. 

The less time it takes the better. 

At least that’s what you tell yourself as you angle the toy, letting the tip of it brush against your g-spot and drawing an authentic moan from you. Fighting the urge to cover your mouth in surprise, you repeat the motion. The combination of sensations making your toes curl and your back arch into the mattress. 

“Fuck-” Your voice catches in your throat, your fingers twitch against the button to turn the vibrations up a level. 

Once you find your rhythm it’s easy to forget about the nerves and what’s at stake. It’s easy to get lost in the sensation and the sight of Javi shuddering as he gasps. It’s easy to focus on the attractive parts of him for a brief moment, to make things easier. And it’s easy to wonder if his cock would feel better than the toy that hums and makes your body tense up deliciously. 

It’s actually terrifying how easy it is. 

It’s enough to make you horrified for just a split second. He wasn’t lying when he said you could be happy if you stopped fighting. Twisted into the pleasure you’re feeling is something else. Relief. Relief for the peace you find when you stop fighting him. You could feel this good all the time if you wanted, you and Javi could have your favorite food for dinner, you could watch your favorite movies, and act out your favorite scenes. 

You could feel good. 

You could have nights like these where you watch him jerk off his pretty, thick cock and know that someone loves you enough to take care of you like this. You could let him buy you pretty things and toys that make you feel so so so good. 

And that thought terrifies you. 

If you stayed in this cage you would eventually become entirely complacent. 

It might not be tomorrow, or next week, or next year, but eventually.

You will be happy to flutter about your cage once you’ve forgotten how to fly. 

His pretty little bird. 

It’s your orgasm that snaps you out of that living nightmare. You hadn’t even realized you’d still been fucking the toy, pleasuring yourself to that little daydream. This wasn’t a good idea and you shouldn’t have done it but it’s too late for that now especially when you’re groaning out his name as you remove the still buzzing toy, now slick with your wetness. Javi’s eyes are wide as he clearly can’t hold back any longer as he dirties his shirt and pants with his own release. 

As you quickly reach for the toy, turning it off, you pull your panties up in a hurry. Maybe you should push your luck and ask him to come into the cage now. A sense of dread is settling in your stomach as you realize that you can’t be here much longer, who knows how quickly you’ll crumble if you keep letting yourself do this. It’s best to make this a swift process where you don’t have any more time to sink into the hell that is acceptance of these four glass walls. 

You’re about to do it. About to tell him that he should join you, that it would feel better for the both of you if he was in the cage as well but you don’t get a chance to as he zips his pants back up.

“Go to bed, when you’re asleep I’m gonna leave you a gift.” He stands abruptly, giving you a reassuring smile before pressing his hand up to the glass. You don’t hesitate to crawl up the length of the bed and press your own to his, it’s brief but you can feel the connection here. 

This is just the beginning. 

After today you’ll put more effort in. You’ll make it happen and you’ll make it happen fast. You can put the time and effort in, it’s not like you have anything better to do. You’ll convince him that it’s real before you lose yourself entirely and when the day finally comes where he opens the door you won’t waste the opportunity. 

You’ll leave your room. 

You can figure out the logistics of it later but for now you take the sleeping pill he slides through the opening every night he visits. You don’t usually take it but you need sleep and this will be easier if he thinks you’re compliant. With a sip of your drink the little pill goes down and your eyes close. 

And you dream that you’re a bird, flying through a blue sky.  

You sleep better than you ever have before in the cage. 

Until you wake, the lamp being on is the only indicator you have that it’s daytime. Your hair stands on end as you sit up. He was here. Things have been moved, little things, noticeable things. Your empty drink is tossed in the bin and it smells of cleaning supplies. He doesn’t ever come inside the cage, that goes against everything he tells you. Your head is spinning as you try to figure out what’s different. How long were you out? The pills have never made you feel this fuzzy before on the rare occasions that you’ve taken them, you do your best to focus but it’s difficult when everything’s so muddled. So you do the one thing you know will clear your head and you list the things you see. 

Desk, bed, lamp, television, chair.

Something’s wrong, different. 

He said he was going to give you a gift. What the fuck did he do? Did he leave it in here? Was it too big to fit through the opening? Is that why he came into the cage? 

You don’t catch it immediately, but there is a note taped to the inside of the glass. 

I knew you’d learn to be happy : ) 

See you tonight.

Love, Javi 

You look back around the room, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Desk, bed, lamp, television, chair.

Desk, bed, lamp, television, chair.

Desk, bed, lamp, television, chair.

Oh. 

i no longer have a tag list, follow @lincolndjarinnotifs for updates on my writing!!

[chronically-ghosted]

will it help?

rating: explicit 18+

pairing: javier peña x f!reader

word count: 1962

summary: javi can't sleep. he doesn't ask you but you help him anyway.

warnings: blow jobs, smoking, no y/n, ball tug

a/n: from @onmysluttyknees 's request: Peña prompt - “Everything in excess is bad, except you”

🤍Masterlist

In a post-Escobar world, things had changed. 

Cali was snatching up the remnants of the empire left and right. The crimes were dirtier, sneakier, and backed up by the government. Allies were enemies and now enemies were allies. The whole game had been changed overnight and while the DEA was playing chess, the cartels had three boards of parcheesi going on under the table. 

And, perhaps in the most horrifying change of all, Javier Peña buttoned his collar up all the way. 

He didn’t smoke. 

He wore nicotine patches.

He wore ties now.

He wore suit jackets, for christ’s sake. 

He walked hunched and in silence through the office hallways now. He didn’t drink with the team and he was often the last one at the office. No one in recent memory could remember the last time some woman called the office looking for a “Señior Peña”.

It seemed, to everyone who knew him, Javier had become a respectable agent. He reigned in his “machismo”, as it were. He had learned something about restraint. Call it the effects of war, post-war syndrome, but Javier was a changed man. 

Nope. 

To you, who actually knew him, Javier just got better at hiding it. 

He still smoked like a goddamn chimney.

“Those things’ll kill you, you know that?” 

He glances up from the floor, shirtless, in jeans, case files and documents spread around him like debris, smoke rising from in between his fingers. Three more burnt out nubs curled around gray ash in the tray. 

It’s past two in the morning. He only does this when the insomnia is particularly bad.

There are dark circles under his eyes as he lifts his gaze up your bare thighs. You didn’t take his shirt to be particularly distracting; it was the only thing you could find in the darkness and eyes bleary with sleep. But he sighs as he looks you up and down. 

“Did the light wake you up? I’m sorry – I’ll go into the kitchen next time,” he shakes his head. “Those fucking chairs are murder on my back, but –,”

“Did you already sort by date? If they’re making specific drops, there might be a pattern.” 

You sit down on the other side of the paper half-circle surrounding him against the couch, taking up the files nearest you. He watches you in the low light, his mouth not yet curled up, but his eyes are bright.

“You don’t have to do this. You can go to sleep.”

“And those things’ll kill you,” you reply, not looking up. 

He chuckles softly and puts out the half burnt cigarette. With a sigh, he picks up a few papers, collecting them and handing them to you. You notice his piles have been organized by location so you include those in the groupings, your thumbnail in your mouth as you try to see a higher pattern, a more digestible informational system. Head down, you miss the faint grin splitting his mouth open. 

With a groan, he eases up onto his feet. As he passes by you on his way to the kitchen, his fingertips trail up your shoulder, ghost up your neck, intertwine with the loose ends of your hair, nails offering a hint of pressure against the back of your skull where he knows it makes you whine. 

You arch your back up against his leg, your head against his thick thigh covered in jeans, his touch encouraging a feeling that oscillates between warm pleasure and hot arousal. Your eyes slipping close, he thumbs the line where your hair meets the skin of your forehead.

“You know I’ve cut back,” he hums quietly. 

“Mhmm, on the days that don’t end in ‘y’.” He massages the rigid bend of your skull behind your ear and you bite back a moan.

“Are you going to tell me next that I drink too much? Sleep too much?” His eyebrow arches lazily, his tone answering his own question, as he drops the pad of his finger tip across your forehead. 

You crack open an eye to look up at him. He’s smiling. 

“You know sleeping in until noon is excessive.”

He snorts. “Everything in excess is bad.” Javi’s grip slides down your cheek, his middle finger pressed against the corner of your mouth. He taps once. “Except you.”

Inhaling the warmth and burn of the cigarette still between his fingers, you reach under the cuff of his jeans to his ankle. Fine hair, just above, a dusting over the arch of his foot.

“Will it help you sleep?”

“Does that matter?” 

You dig your nails into the soft skin under his ankle. “I want you to sleep.” 

His dark eyes harden, an exposed vulnerability tugging at the corners of his eyes, his mouth, making him look younger than he is. 

“I don’t know if I can. But I want to try.”

You nod, satisfied with his sincerity. Another reward for knowing Javier the man and not only the agent; he never lied to you.

He breathes through those parted pink lips as you tuck your legs underneath you and roll up onto your knees. He stands there, an observer, as you rub your palm up his thigh, the muscles tense in anticipation and exertion. Your eyes caught with his as though tied together, you cup his half-hard length through his jeans, intentionally pressing the zipper into his growing erection. Javi swallows, a grunt so obviously caught in his throat. He doesn’t want you to have that just yet, he wants you to work for it. He needs you to make it rough. 

You unbutton his jeans, fingers grazing the trail of hair that sinks beneath the waistband. He barely twitches. You unzip, the sound almost strikingly loud in the silence, over the distant wailing of sirens, over the almost buzzing heat of Bogota. You drop his gaze, wanting to watch this part, your lower muscles cramping in excitement. Javi breathes sharply through his nose when you reach in and bring out his cock.

In the days of Machismo Javi, there was a secret office bet going around about what his cock looked like. Shape, color, length, girth – there was money to be made all around. You are pleased to say that no one ever got it right.

Flush, darker than his skin, but redder than his nipples, you can honestly say you drool at the size of it every single fucking time. 

You swallow, your mouth flushed with spit.

“Hey, save some of that for me.” Oh, the bastard is smug. But his touch is tender, affection as he rubs his thumb under your bottom lip. 

You eye him as his grows, lengths, aroused by just you looking at him. You nip at his thumb, hands squeezing his thighs.

“Yes, sir.” 

You aren’t sure if the noise he makes comes from your words or the fact that you swallow him nearly to the hilt in one go. Fully erect in your mouth, hot and pulsing, Javi’s eyes roll back in his head and he drops his head against his shoulders. 

“Oh, fuck, baby, that fucking mouth on you,” he groans. 

You breathe out through your nose, pleased at his reaction. You shift higher on your knees, the pressure between your legs already verging on uncomfortable. There is a reason you loved riding him; with this fucking cock, it felt like he was going to split you open, his feet planted, hips bucking up into you.

Fuck. Focus. 

You drag your mouth back, taking time to drag as much spit and drool along his length as possible. You come to the end, swirl your tongue as if you are sucking up the curve of an ice cream cone against the thick vein underneath his cock and he audibly moans, the sound like the plates of the earth shifting to relieve volcanic duress. 

His hands fly to your hair, his hips bucking to chase the heat of your mouth, but your hands at his thighs hold him back. 

“Fuck, sorry.” 

You accept his apology with the tip of your tongue catching on the head of his cock – he trembles under your palms – before taking him in half way, then all the way, then halfway again. You fuck him with your mouth like he fucks your cunt. His fingers tighten in your hair, nails scratching your scalp. 

“Tha’s it, suck my cock, baby, suck it.” 

You slide all the way down, your tongue rubbing against the ridges, your cheeks hallowed in, your mouth a vacuum seal, and your nose brushes the short, harsh hairs around his groin. And then you do, indeed, suck. 

His hips lurch forward, you are expecting that, knowing exactly what that does to him, but still, he pounds the back of your throat and you gag, mouthful of him. Your eyes water, lashes suddenly wet, but he wipes them with his thumb, turning your jaw up to look at him.

Eyes pitch black, mouth agape, chest heaving, Javi looks like you could ask for the moon and he’d go out and find his best lasso. He swallows, the air jagged as he gulps it down. 

“Eres tan sucia. Lo tomas sin que te lo pida. Te lo tomas tan bien.”

You can’t help but grin, spit dribbling around the corner of your mouth. He’s started speaking rapid, almost unintelligible Spanish, it won’t be long now. 

He continues spewing filthy dirty things at you so you drop your jaw out of his grip, pull back out all the way, a string of spittle caught between your lips and the head of his cock, and kitten-lick the precum from his flushed skin. He punches out a groan. With your hand thoughtfully placed on the inside of his thigh, you lick him again, tug his balls just barely, and then release your jaw to swallow him entirely. 

His knees buckle, a pink flush erupting up his chest, and he spews down the back of your throat with such force, you gag again. But you hold on, your nails digging into his jeans, eyes streaming until he stops, his hips slow in their thrusting, his fingers tightly latched on the crown of your head. 

You can’t really understand him but you catch phrases in both Spanish and English as his body relaxes.

Oh my god

Holy shit

Fuck fuck fuck

Oh my god

You drag back mindfully of his sensitivity, your cheeks and jaw damp with tears. You finally swallow when he’s gone from your mouth, but it’s too much and his cum leaks out of the corner of your mouth. 

“Oh, baby, what a fucking mess.”

He drops to his knees, wiping your lips clean with his thumb. He sucks his own thumb once before dropping his mouth to kiss you hotly on the mouth. Javier was always better at using his body, his actions to express how he feels than using words, and you can practically taste the praise, the appreciation, the awe he transfers in that kiss. 

He’s shaking a bit when he pulls back. He continues back, pulling you with him until you’re both on your backs, looking up at the popcorn ceiling. 

His thumb is tracing lazily whorls on the back of your neck.

“If you think those chairs on murder on your back, this floor is going to annihilate you.”

He chuckles, the sound warm in his chest beneath your palm. 

“I know, cariño.”

“Do you think you can sleep?” 

He rubs his face as he sits up. You follow him and take his hand, intertwining your fingers. He looks at your hand in his, contemplative as ever. But the storm clouds often present in his eyes aren’t there. He looks, shockingly, relaxed. 

He nods.

“I’m willing to try.”