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javierpena-inatacvest · 1 month

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Whatever My Wife Wants

Summary: On your honeymoon, Javi decides to break out a new accessory you've never seen him wear before. Little does he know, that seeing him wear a chain for the first time is about to drive you wild.

Word Count: 4.5K

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also its your honeymoon so who am I to say), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, paise kink, literally the biggest, fattest, ugliest breeding kink (I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not), marriage kink (?) creampie, cum play, kind of exhibitionism (like if you SQUINT), talks of starting a family, Javi LOVES his wife, Javi in a CHAIN, Javi on his honeymoon deserves its own warning, did I mention that Javi LOVES his wife?!

A/N: shoutout to my sweet @honeyedmiller for this request after reblogging this MASTERPIECE from @enstatia. It's supposed to be a painting of Din, but it gave me such big Javi vibes, and I really haven't been the same since picturing the one and only Javier Peña in a chain (bc If i can't unsee it, you shouldn't be allowed to either) 😵‍💫 Also shoutout to Lucien Flores for singlehandedly ruining my life today with that new clip from the Uninvited (but also you can't tell me that this outfit is so Javi on the beach coded PHEW)

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

Javi had never been one for jewelry- well, that was until a few days ago when a new golden wedding band had made a home on his hand. Since you had slipped it on his finger, Javi couldn’t get enough of watching it glisten in the warm, tropical sunlight on your honeymoon, a reminder that filled his heart to the brim to know that he was yours forever.

Javi’s new wedding ring was the only jewelry that he had ever pictured himself wearing, until you had mentioned to him in passing while shopping for new clothes for your honeymoon how good he’d look with a chain to go with any of his outfits he had planned for the trip- considering there was no way Javi was going to have no less than 4 buttons undone on his shirt at any given time while basking in the tropical warmth of your honeymoon paradise.

Later on that week, he had dug around in his dresser to find a thin, golden chain necklace he had back from his time in college, that hadn’t seen the light of day in too many years to count. But, given your enthusiasm for the idea of him wearing something like it, Javi had decided to pack it with him in his suitcase to surprise when the time felt right.

Well, after being a few drinks deep at the pool bar from earlier, Javi’s slightly tipsy confidence had him feeling like now was the perfect time to try out his new accessory to see what you thought. Digging through his suitcase, he pulled out out the chain to go with the rest of his outfit for your dinner on the beach, clipping the necklace around his neck as he looked himself over in the mirror, quickly fixing his hair and adjusting his shirt, undoing one more button than probably necessary to show off his new look.

And while he could admit that he didn’t look half bad with it on, and figured you’d like the new surprise addition to his wardrobe, there’d be no way in hell he could have ever prepared himself for the viscerally awestruck reaction you’d have to the thin, gold chain dangling around his neck.

“I can practically feel you burning a hole through my chest, Hermosa.” Javi chuckled, raising an eyebrow at you as he took another bite of his food, giving you a playful smirk at the way you had been ogling at him ever since you had noticed the thin gold chain resting across his tanned skin as you began your walk through the hotel to head to dinner.

“Oh shut up, it’s not my fault you’re so hot. You’re making it very hard not to look, in my defense.” You sighed, trying to get yourself to focus on your food instead of staring at Javi for the rest of dinner, despite the fact that the only meal you had your eyes on was sitting across the table from you. “There’s already something about you being my husband that makes you somehow even hotter than you already were, and now with this?” You picked up your fork, gesturing to the chain dangling between the parted fabric of Javi’s shirt, “I think you may be trying to legitimately kill me.”

“Figured you’d like it. Didn’t think you’d like it this much.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip before taking another bite of food, his cheeks growing flushed and warm as he looked at you admiring him, wondering how in the hell he had gotten so goddamn lucky. “Thanks, Mrs. Peña.” He laughed, taking another bite of his food, shooting you a quick wink.

Mrs. Peña.

God, if that alone wasn’t enough to send you over the edge already, your new last name, combined with the incredibly attractive man you had gotten it from that you now got to call your husband? On top of that stupidly hot chain he had decided to throw on with his outfit? There was definitely something else you were hungry for other than the half cleared plate below you.

It was then that you couldn’t have been happier you had been seated at a table on the edge of the beachside boardwalk, tucked behind a few stray palm trees, secluded enough out of view that you had no problem reaching under the table to rest your hand on Javi’s knee, toying with the hem of his shorts before letting your fingers creep further and further up his thigh.

“Are you almost done with your food?” You asked, your voice sweet and sultry as your hand brushing against Javi’s crotch immediately caught his attention, making his eyes go wide as he sat up straight, setting down his knife and fork to look down in his lap. “Because if you are, I can think of something else I want for dessert when we go back to our room. Something I want really bad. You wanna feel how badly I want it?”

Javi swallowed hard as your fingers wrapped more firmly around his bulge, gently massaging his dick in your grasp, before grabbing his hand and guiding it to brush along the slit of your sundress and closer to your core, aching and dripping with arousal. Letting his fingers creep up the inside of your thighs and ghost over your folds, his eyes went even wider, jaw practically dropping open to feel that you were not only absolutely soaked, but also not wearing any underwear at all. Using every ounce of composure he had to keep from falling apart right then and there at the dinner table, letting out a deep sigh as he cursed under his breath.

“Jesus fucking Christ. Fuck, baby… Yeah, I can be done right now.” He groaned, nodding at your proposition before wrapping his hand around the meat of your thigh as he took a long inhale, staring you down with darkening eyes and a devilish grin across the table.

Never had you been more thankful that the resort you had picked to stay at was all inclusive, because if either of you had to wait a minute longer for a server to get your bill so you could get back up to your room, the probability of impending implosion would have been practically inevitable.

Firmly intertwining your fingers with his as you grabbed his hand, you were nearly dragging Javi through the hotel to the nearest bay of elevators, pleasantly shocked to find no one else waiting with you to travel up to their room, leaving the two of you alone to catch the next elevator back up to your floor.

Without a word, the second the elevator doors had closed, the two of you were on top of each other, a messy dance of tongue and teeth crashing together, Javi’s hands palming the meat of your ass over your dress while yours roamed over his chest, tracing the freckles of his tanned skin up to the golden chain dangling in the open buttons of his shirt, stopping to wrap the necklace around your finger, tugging Javi closer to you.

“Fuck, you look so good with this on, baby.” You moaned, your words hot against Javi’s skin as you nipped at his neck, chain still tangled in your grasp. “I can’t wait to fu-”

Barely aware of the fact that you had reached your floor, the ding of the elevator was enough to catch your attention and cut you off from completing the rest of your thought before the doors slid open, revealing a group of couples waiting for their ride down to the lobby. Frantically trying to play off the fact that if the elevator ride had gone any longer, you two definitely would have been seconds away from fucking in it, you gulped, giving Javi a nudge to his ribs to bring him back to reality, the two of you quickly trying to slide past the other guests without making a scene.

As the door closed behind you, you and Javi couldn’t help but giggle at the fact that you couldn’t seem to take an elevator trip alone without almost being caught making out like a pair of horny teenagers (which, to be fair, a pair of horny teenagers probably would have had more self control than the two of you being newlyweds on your honeymoon).

With your room only being a few doors down from the elevator, Javi began fumbling in the pocket of his shorts for his room key, working around the full hard on he already had under the fabric from how pent up he was. Quietly cursing under his breath until he found it, as soon as the card was swiping over the lock of the door, Javi was yanking you through into your room, instantly beginning to pull down the zipper to the back of your dress as you fumbled your way back to the bed.

Your dress fell to the floor in a crumpled pile before Javi was tossing you onto the mattress, shocked to see that you also hadn’t even bothered to put on a bra, revealing your glowing skin and obnoxious tanlines from your time spent out in the sun.

“Dirty fucking girl, not wearing anything underneath that dress for me. Fuck me, Hermosa. God, you’re so beautiful. So fucking perfect. My perfect wife.” Javi growled, dropping to his knees at the edge of the bed to part your legs, draping them over his shoulders as he admired the wet mess between your thighs, your slick already coating your folds, glistening in the dim light of your hotel room. “My perfect wife and her perfect fucking pussy already so wet for me.

Dragging his fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal as he ghosted over your throbbing clit, you let out a soft whimper in protest, sitting up on your elbows to look down at Javi, peppering kisses along the soft skin of your thighs.

“Javi, fuck- Baby, I wanted to go down on you. You look so good, I-I wanna taste you, Jav, p-please.” You moaned, your argument becoming less and less convincing as his kisses traveled to your center, nose brushing against your aching bundle of nerves before looking up at you with a lustful smirk, tightening his grip around your hips to hold you in place.

Javi shook his head as he laughed quietly to himself, watching you squirm and buck your hips towards his face, so desperately worked up and aching that the mess between your legs was really beginning to contradict your need to get Javi off before yourself.

“Cariño…” Javi tutted, almost mockingly, digging his fingertips deeper into the meat of your flesh, “You’re not going anywhere ‘till I get a taste. I can’t leave my poor wife all worked up like this, can I?”

Before you had a chance to respond, the flat of Javi’s tongue was dragging through your heat in a long, broad stroke, firmly pressing against your clit, looking up at you with a satisfied grin as you threw your head back in pleasure, a soft whimper escaping from your parted lips. As the last of his lick slid through your folds, you shuttered at the feeling of the metal of his chain ghosting over your cunt as it dangled from his neck, only to cry out as you could feel the other piece of jewelry he was wearing on his left ring finger sink deep into your entrance.

“Oh f-fuck-” You whimpered as another finger breached your tight hole, already sucking him in with your warm, wet walls while his digits curled, bumping against the sweet spot inside you that he knew made you crumble.

“That’s it, baby girl.” He cooed, thrusting his fingers in and out of your cunt before diving back between your legs like a man starved, his tongue dancing in a swirling pattern of flicks and strokes between your folds as he lapped you up. You could feel yourself rolling your hips against his hand, whining at how thick and full he felt inside you, even more so now with the wedding band that had made its permanent home on his finger, taking every chance he could get to watch you cover the glistening gold ring in your arousal as yet another way to prove that you were his.

Javi could feel your pussy beginning to flutter around his fingers as your bottom half squirmed against the sheets of the bed, the knot in your stomach beginning to tighten, tingling building at the base of your spine. Latching his lips around your clit, he began to suck at your sensitive nub, his hand thrusting faster and deeper into your cunt, feeling you slowly coming undone under his touch.

“Oh shit- fuck, fuck, Javi, I’m so close baby, oh fuck, fuck, I’m gonnaaahhhhhh-” Just like that, you were falling over the brink of collapse, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave, pleasure flowing through every inch of your veins as you met your high, feeling the smirk of Javi’s smile pressed against your cunt as you soaked his face, his free hand wrapped around your hip, holding you in place for him.

“Fuck, I swear, I’ll never fucking get over that.” Javi mewled, pulling back enough to sit on his heels, admiring the wet and puffy mess your pussy had become, gently pulling his fingers out of your heat, looking down at the way your arousal coated his fingers, covering his wedding band. “Fucking soaked me, Hermosa. You like feeling my ring when I touch you like that, baby? Knowing I’m all yours forever?”

With your chest heaving in heavy breaths, you nodded frantically, blissed out look plastered across your face as you stared up at Javi, lust pooling in the dark brown of his eyes as he brought his soaked fingers to your mouth, tugging at your bottom lip as, opening your mouth for you to suck him clean, the warm and tangy taste of you still fresh on his skin.

“You taste so fucking sweet, baby. Mi esposa sabes muy dulce.” (My wife tastes so sweet) Javi cooed, gently tugging his fingers out of your mouth, standing up to lean over the bed, caging your body under his as his lips crashed against yours in a needy mess of longing and desperation.

You could feel how painfully hard he was through the fabric of his shorts, his bulge straining against the seams of his zipper as he rubbed against your thigh, laying on top of you with one arm propped up beside your head, the other gently cupping your face, thumb rubbing back and forth along your cheek as he kissed you with the tender intensity that set your insides ablaze with desire, longing, no, needing to feel him buried deep inside you as you screamed his name.

It really had been your intention to suck Javi off the moment you had gotten back to your room, to drop to your knees and worship the beautifully handsome man you now got to call your husband and turn him into the same type of moaning, whimpering mess that he had just made you, but with the ferocity of each kiss and the instinctual jerk of Javi’s hips, there was nothing you wanted more than to be filled by the sweet sting of his cock pounding into you, over and over.

“J-Javi, fuck- I need to feel you baby, please. Fuck, I wanna feel you so deep inside me.” You whispered, your teeth tugging at Javi’s earlobe as he peppered your jaw and neck with kisses, feeling the audible groan in his chest at your request, followed by a deep sigh as he tried to compose himself from the mess he was already becoming.

“Yeah? That’s what you want, sweet girl? Whatever my wife wants, my wife gets.” He rasped, a devilish grin spread between his cheeks as he sat back to pull his shirt over his head, followed by his shorts and boxers, leaving him in nothing but the gold chain still dangling around his neck as he reached down to stroke his cock, red and dripping with precum before leaning back down to line up with your entrance.

You could feel your breath hitch as his tip brushed through your folds, rubbing gently against your clit as he collected your arousal to coat his length, looking down to watch as his length sunk deep into your cunt, the both of you letting out ragged moans at the sensation.

Javi paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the sweet sting of his stretch as he filled you, his tip kissing your cervix while his hips met yours. The fullness made your brain go blank, completely at a loss for words as he began to slowly thrust in and out of you, pulling himself out enough to sink his whole length back into your cunt, each thrust making you whimper and moan, desperate for more.

“F-fuck, give me more, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your hand wrapping around his bicep, fingertips digging into his flexing muscles.

“Yeah? You want more, Hermosa?” Javi mewled, smirking to himself at the blissed out mess you were already becoming as the pace of his hips rutting into you began to quicken.

As each thrust became faster, the gold chain draped around his neck began to bounce against his chest, his body close enough to yours to feel the cool metal brush against your face with each snap of his hips into yours, the sight of his necklace dangling over you as you stared up at the furrowed and focused look painting his face. The image alone of him wearing that chain was enough to make you feel like you were going to cum on the spot, but as you lay caged beneath the weight of his broad body, feeling nothing but his warm skin and chain rub against you, you were nearly convinced it was going to be over for you right then and there.

Without even thinking, you lifted your head up off the bed just enough to grab the chain between your teeth, tugging him closer to you, the sudden yank making his eyes go wide in surprise as the two of you came nose to nose, foreheads brushing against each other before his lips were on yours again, entangling you in an all consuming kiss without faltering in his pace.

“Fuck, you look so good.” You moaned, your lips parting just enough from his to whisper your praises into his ear. “You look so hot with this fucking chain, Jesus Christ.”

Your comment had a low, breathy laugh escaping from his chest, shaking his head to himself almost in disbelief at how enthralled you were with him.

“Me? Baby girl, you have no idea.” He cooed, slowing his thrusts to sit back on his haunches, readjusting you to bring your knees pressed to your chest, leaning back down, running his hands along your body, up your arms until he had them above your head, pinned down to the bed in his grasp. “You know how many guys I’ve seen staring at you since we’ve been here? How many dirty fucking looks I’ve had to give them? Maybe this ring on your finger isn’t enough, mi amor.”

“W-what do you, fuck- what do mean?” You whimpered, the new position opening you up in a way that had you feeling every inch of Javi as he sank his cock even deeper into your cunt, splitting you open in the most delicious way possible, your brain barely working enough to let your words escape from your mouth.

“I mean,” Javi groaned, tightening his grip to hold you in place, his eyes growing darker with desire with another deep, long thrust into your heat, “That maybe, I need to fuck a baby into, Osita. Fuck a baby into my beautiful fucking wife, and let everyone see that you’re mine with our kid growing inside you.”

Javi’s words sent a shiver down your spine, the thought alone making you whimper- You and Javi both had undeniable cases of baby fever, and now that you were finally married and had agreed that your birth control wasn’t going to be a part of your packing list, the prospect that in 9 months from now, you could have a third member to your family? That was enough to have you close to finishing right then and there.

A gulp traveling down your throat before a long exhale, trying to find the words to respond to his proposition, your voice trembling in an anxious excitement.

“F-fuck- Oh my god, yes. Fuck a baby into me, Javi. Let me, oh shit- let me make you a daddy.”

“Jesus Fucking Christ…” Javi groaned, gritting his teeth, trying his best to maintain his own composure, taking a long exhale before his gaze met yours again, a fierce kind of determination and promise pooling in the deep chocolate brown of his eyes, leaning his body on top of yours, pushing your knees closer to your chest, opening you up to an even deeper angle as his mouth crashed into yours, beginning to pick up his pace once again as his hips snapped into yours. “That’s what you want, Hermosa? Fuck, I’ll give it to you, baby. Oh shit- Whatever my wife wants, my wife gets, remember? You want a baby? Fuck- I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you I’ll fuck a baby into you right now.”

You could feel the all too familiar tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine once again, Javi’s cock pounding perfectly into your g-spot over and over again, the hairs at the base of his length grinding against your throbbing clit, sending you to the brink of collapse with each thrust in and out of your cunt.

“Yes, oh my god- yes, I w-want it so bad. P-please, baby, fuck.” You whined, starting to stumble over your words as you could feel your pussy beginning to flutter around his cock, the coil in your core tightening to the point of nearly snapping.

“Fuck- say it again. Tell me- mierda- tell me how badly you want it.” Javi moaned, his thrusts becoming slopier and more desperate as he could feel himself on the verge of chasing his own high, knowing all too well you were almost hitting yours.

“I want you to fill me up, Javi. Fuck, fuck, fuck- I want it so bad. I want you to knock me up and give me a baby, please, baby, oh my god- please.” You were all but panting at this point, your legs starting to tremble as your cunt clenched tighter and tighter around Javi’s cock, the overwhelming sensation of his fullness, promise of pregnancy, and that damn chain dangling in your face was enough to finally send you over the edge. “Fuck, Javi, fuck, fuckfuckfuck, I’m so close baby, I’m gonna, oh shit- I’m gonna cu-ahhhhhhh.”

Those were the last words you were able to muster before you were screaming out Javi’s name as you came, euphoria and ecstasy radiating through every inch of your body, your orgasm crashing through you with so much intensity you could have sworn you were seeing stars.

Watching you fall apart beneath him, soaking his cock in your arousal as you came had Javi only moments behind you, the rhythm of his hips beginning to stutter, the lewd sounds of your skin slapping against each others combined with your wanton moans and whimpers and curses under your breath making him begin to babble incoherently.

“That’s it, Osita. That’s my good girl. Fucking soak my cock, baby. Cum all over me before I, fuck me- fuck myself so deep in you it’ll fucking take. Holy fuck- Fuck, I’m gonna cum too. Gonna fucking fill you up. Give you all of me. Fuck, I’ll give you everyting, baby, mierda- everything you’ll ever wa-ahhhhhh”

With one last final thrust, Javi was spilling deep inside you, warm ropes of his spend coating your walls, milking himself of every single last drop before collapsing on top of you, the warmth and weight and of his body sinking on top of your chest as the two you sighed in sync, trying to catch your breath with long, labored huffs.

As Javi felt himself begin to soften, a groan rumbled low in his chest while he pulled out, feeling the mix of your spend dripping out your hole, coating the inside of your thighs in glistening juices. You let out an involuntary whimper at the loss of fullness inside you, your head falling back on the mattress in blissed out satisfaction, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to bring yourself back to reality after floating away in post-colotial bliss.

“Holy fuck…” You whispered to yourself, lifting your head back up to see Javi sitting back on his heels, admiring the mess of the two of you pooling between your legs.

“So fucking pretty, Hermosa.” He mewled, peppering kisses down the soft skin of your thighs, making his way back towards your core. Before you could even realize what was happening, Javi’s head was back between your legs, one broad stroke of his tongue collecting the tangy, salty mixture leaking out of your cunt and lapping it back into your entrance quickly replacing his mouth with his fingers to push the mixture of your spend even further into you.

Looking up at you, slick covering his mustache and smug grin spread between his cheeks, Javi curled his fingers just enough to make you yelp as he pressed against your g-spot, considering how worked up and overstimulated you already were.

“Gotta make sure I keep you full of me, baby. Can’t let anything go to waste.” Javi smirked, gently pulling out his fingers, resting his hands on your thighs, drawing soft circles on your skin with his thumbs.

You tried to sit back up, propping yourself on your elbows before Javi’s body was caging over you once again, slowly lowering himself down until your back was flat against the bed, cradling your jaw as guided you down with soft, slow kisses, feeling his chain brush against your chin he pulled away from your lips.

“You’re not going anywhere, Momma. My wife wants a baby? Then I’m doing everything I can to give her one. Whatever she wants.” Javi smirked, pressing a tender kiss onto your forehead as his hand caressed your face, brushing your skin just gently enough to tickle you, a little giggle escaping from your lips as your eyes met his sweet puppy dog ones.

“You’re ridiculous, you menace.” You laughed, playfully nudging Javi as he rolled over next to you on the side of the bed, wrapping his arm around you, tugging you to lay against his bare chest, your hand draping over his stomach before crawling up his chest, wrapping his gold chain around your fingers. “Hmmmm whatever your wife wants, huh?” You smirked, looking up at him with a mischievous grin.

“Whatever she wants, Hermosa.”

“Your wife wants you to never take this damn thing off again.”

Taglist:

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @pedr0swh0r3

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merz-8 · 6 months

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my hyperfixations keep me from killing myself so please just let me be delusional and dream of fictional older men and their big brown eyes and massive cocks

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #aaron hotchner #john wick #john wick x reader #tlou joel #javier pena x reader #javier peña #lalo salamanca x reader #lalo salamanca #john wick imagine #fluff and smut #john wick smut #joel miller x f!reader

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endlessthxxghts · 2 months

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Bend Over

Javier Peña x afab!reader || W/C: 4.8k

Summary: Your dresser craps out on you. Your boyfriend, Javier, comes with you to IKEA to buy a new one. Then, he fucks you on it.

Content/Warnings: I think you know what you guys are getting into based on the summary😗. Reader is able-bodied. Slight implied physical descriptors Javi is taller than reader, and the IKEA dresser is slightly bigger/taller than you (everything else is neutral - no size descriptions - ex. "your form", etc.). Pet names (good girl, querida, cariño, baby, baby girl, mama, mi amor). Implied that reader knows Spanish. A little allusion to our favorite contractor, Joel Miller (blink and you’ll miss it). SMUT 18+ MDNI. Public sexual activity (exhibitionism). Finger fucking. Edging. Slight undertones of BDSM dynamics. Javi’s filthy mouth. Thigh riding. Hickey/marking. P in V unprotected sex. Choking. Breeding kink (I’m not sorry). Cum play. Anal play. Brief pussy licking + rimming. Allusion to further sexual activity. I thiiiink that’s it… let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: HIII I’M BACK! I went to ikea to buy a new dresser. And the thots between @javierpena-inatacvest and I ran wild. So, this was born.👹 Also, I no longer have a tag list, but I teased this story TWICE in some WIP tag games, and a few of you were giving me so much love and wanting me to let you know when this story was posted, so I’m adopting the tag list (at da bottom) one last time to say how much I love you all. 🥹 I’m sorry this took me so long. Thank you so much. I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!!

MASTERLIST || NOTIF BLOG

It was supposed to be just a trip to IKEA. It was supposed to be a productive day of building your dresser and rearranging your room. That is what it was supposed to be.

How it ended up with you getting your guts rearranged on top of said dresser—you’re not so sure. But, considering this is Javier Peña you’re talking about, maybe you have a slight indication of why your day ended up the way it did.

It was early this morning when your dresser decided to shit on you; all you did was slide the door open, and it completely pulled off of its hinge. Now, you don’t mind a doorless dresser, it’s modern, you tried to convince yourself, but when you pulled out the second drawer and the wood snapped in half, scattering your panties all over the ground—yeah, okay, it was definitely time for a new one.

You called your boyfriend after you cleaned up your clothes, and asked if he wanted to come with you on your hunt for the new piece of furniture. Why are you even asking? he scolded as he saddled up into his Jeep and made his way to your place.

He stepped out of his seat in the driver side, rounding the hood to pull you in for a lengthy kiss as he pulled the passenger side door open for you. “Well, hello to you, too, baby,” you giggle as you break the kiss for a breath of air. He leaves a slap to your ass as he guides you by your hips into the passenger seat. He even buckles you in, stealing one more kiss before you two head off.

You thought shopping for a new dresser would be simple: get in, choose a sizable one that could fit everything your previous dresser could, and also make sure it matches the rest of your room’s theme. Simple, right? Wrong. As long as Javier was involved, he took his sweet time really studying each option you were pointing out—analyzing it to ensure it wouldn’t crap out on you like your original one did.

“How long did you have this dresser?” He asked as he was pulling into the IKEA parking lot.

“Mmm, I don’t know,” you thought, “maybe a few years?”

“A few years?!” Javier asked, exasperated. “Where the hell did you find that fucking thing?”

You let a beat of silence pass before you answered. “...I thrifted it,” you admit weakly.

Javier puts the car in park, his face in utter shock at what just came out of your mouth. “Querida, what-” he starts.

You pull him in immediately, shutting him up with your lips against his. It works, of course. “Let’s go?” you ask.

“Y-yeah, vamos (let’s go),” he says, flustered.

“Javi, c’mon,” you whine, feeling exhausted after his analysis on your third option since the first two didn’t pass the Peña inspection. “Since when were you a contractor? The first two were perfectly fine, baby, it’s IKEA for crying out loud.”

He scoffs. “Living on the ranch with Pop,” he replies to your sarcastic remark. “You and I are both aware I know my way around some handiwork,” he adds as he looks back to you, a shit-eating grin creeping on his face.

You want to roll your eyes, but you can’t help the way your body ignites to the suggestion laced in his words. “Pendejo,” you mutter to yourself, fighting the heat from making it to your face.

You walk around some more while your boyfriend opens every nook and cranny of the wooden frame, but then right as you turn your body, you find it. The dresser. HEMNES. You quickly make your way to it, running your hands along the dark brown surface, crouching down to open up and see how much space is in the drawers—which, it’s very spacious. The drawer itself is taller than your waistline, probably reaching just at your belly button. It’s perfect. “Baby, wait, come here! I think I found one!” You call out.

Javier follows your voice, intrigued by your excitement—you didn’t show this much enthusiasm with the other ones he was looking at. He rounds the corner and is met with quite a view. You are bending over the top of the dresser, on your tippy toes, trying to feel for the depth of the dresser. He sees you settle your hands at the edges of the top and shake it a little, testing out its durability while also unknowingly wiggling your ass. Fuck me, he thinks. Quickly adjusting his pants, he makes his way to you, situating his body directly against yours as he cages you in.

“Jav-” you softly gasp, not expecting to feel him. Immediately you’re pulling yourself up, still on your tippy toes, but your back is now flush against his chest.

“Ay, Dios mío,” he grunts as he whispers in your ear, “Querida, please get up.” His hands are on your hips, pulling you away from the dresser. You turn in his hold, a giggle leaving your throat as you look at his stressed out expression, realizing why his reaction was so pained.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You ask him quietly. “Saw something you like, huh?” You pull him in by his neck, kissing the side of his mouth before you pull away from him completely. Gesturing to the dresser, you ask, “Does this one pass the inspection, sir?”

He glares at you before he replies. “Yeah, let’s get this one.”

Your eyebrow quirks up. “You didn’t even look at it.”

“I saw enough, cariño,” he says gruff, looking at the tag on the display and taking note of which aisle the box will be at.

You know your man well enough to know when he’s turned on, and that little unintentional stunt you pulled when making sure HEMNES was the right dresser for you—oh, it absolutely sent him over the edge. You decided to let him brew in his own arousal until you checked out your purchase, but the moment you set foot in his car again, you were set on starting something you wanted him to finish.

“Thank you again for coming with me, baby,” you say as he settles back into the driver seat, your hand taking its seat on his upper thigh.

The muscle twitches underneath your palm. “Mhm,” he mutters, voice wavering at your contact. Just as Javier puts the car in drive, he’s immediately pushing it back to park because your hand slides higher, closer, to the hardening bulge between his legs. His hips softly buck into your grasp; you take one look at him, and you can see the veins in his neck popping. A victory smile graces your face as his turns into a scowl. “What are you doing?”

You feign as much innocence as possible. “What am I doing? I’m just saying thank you, baby, I can’t tell you thank you?”

“Right,” he says unconvinced. Your fingers continue to draw little shapes across the strained material of his pants. You go to cup him entirely, but the strength of his hand stops you.

He releases your hand and gets out of the car, the car still running. He is at your side faster than you can take your own seatbelt off. He’s pulling your door open and giving you no chance for debate, his hand wraps around your jaw and pulls you into a bruising kiss—a messy yet calculated dance of teeth and tongue, and in pulling away he’s biting your bottom lip, pulling the sweetest little desperate whimper from your throat. He clocks the way your hips softly grind into his seat.

“J-jav,” your voice shakes, “w-what are you doing-”

His grip on your jaw tightens, giving you a little shake as he speaks. “You had your fun, cariño,” he breathes. “My turn now.”

His hand leaves your face and snakes down the front of your body, unzipping your jeans as you just stare wildly at the sight below you, your breathing erratic as your body anticipates his next move.

“We- we’re in the fucking parking lot still, Javi!” You whisper yell at him, pissed, even though your body is doing absolutely nothing to stop him. He smirks at that fact. You want this.

“Guess you’ll just have to keep quiet for me, yeah?” His fingers slip past your jeans, past your underwear, and you’re fucking soaked. His middle and ring finger bypass your clit, circling your entrance to gather the wetness accumulating before he comes back up to circle your throbbing bud.

“Oh, fuck,” you yelp out, your eyes rolling back and your hips pushing into his hand as you hiss out in the pleasure. At your volume, Javi’s quick to stop his ministrations, cupping your mound and squeezing you as a warning. If the space allowed, you know he would’ve slapped your cunt. This alternative is equally as dizzying.

“Open your eyes, baby,” he rasps. Your eyes flutter open. “You see all these people, huh? You want them to see you? See my good girl getting finger fucked in broad fucking daylight?”

“F-fuck, Jav” you whimper, much quieter this time, as your eyes land back on your man’s as you try and grind yourself on him. Javi’s fingers find your entrance then, sliding in with ease as a new wave of arousal pours out of you.

“Oh, you like that idea, don’t you?” His fingers speed up their momentum as he adds his thumb into the mix, hurtling you much closer to your finish line than you anticipated.

“Baby, I’m c-close, I’m- fuck- I’m gonna cum, Javi, I-” you bring your hand up over your mouth to stifle the sobs that are about to leave your mouth.

“Yeah, baby? Gonna give us a show?” He asks, his breathing just as erratic as yours. All you need is one more little push from his thumb on your clit, and then-

“No!” you cry.

Right as you were about to fall over the edge, Javier completely pulls his fingers out of you, standing up straight as he licks his fingers off. Your hips don’t realize he left you as they buck a few more times, chasing the feeling of what could have been.

“Baby, please, I was so close,” you heave, your heart rate equivalent to that of a hummingbird.

Javier leans down into the car, slotting his lips against yours terribly slow; your taste lingers on his tongue. He pulls away. “Sorry, mama,” he whispers. “Only I get to see you fall apart like that.”

He zips and buttons your pants up, leaving you a stunned, aroused, wet mess as he makes his way back to the driver seat and pulls out of the parking spot, driving back to your place as if nothing even happened.

The drive home is short, but it feels like the longest drive you’ve ever had to endure. He rests his hand on your thigh the entire time, squeezing you every now and then as his pinky leaves featherlight touches where you need him most. He talks to you during the drive—about what, you honestly have no clue, but it seemed the conversation was enough for him to sustain alone.

You’re brought out of your daze when his hand grabs your jaw, turning you to look at him. “You okay, baby?” He asks, knowing damn well what’s got your head in the clouds.

The throbbing between your legs remained consistent—worse, even—on the drive home, so no you’re not fucking okay. You don’t tell him that, though. “Mhm,” you hum, not trusting your vocal cords to string together something coherent.

He pulls your lips to his—a lingering one, one that has your mind slipping further. Breaking the embrace, he says softly, “Go unlock the door, amor, while I carry the box in, yeah?”

On wobbly legs, you make your way to your door, missing the hole a few times but eventually the key slides in with ease. You toss them into the bowl on the entryway table, making your way to the kitchen to grab yourself a glass of water to contain yourself until Javier comes inside.

Apparently, you’re way more distracted than you thought, because one gulp down and he’s behind you—hands on your waist, mouth on your neck. You set the glass down a little harshly, its weight suddenly increasing tenfold with the way he’s on you.

“Baby,” you whine, your head falling back onto his shoulder. “Please.”

Your boyfriend is turning you around then, turning you to face him, and his mouth is on yours, licking and sucking as his body pushes you up against the fridge, your head landing with a soft thud as his mouth starts to descend down your neck while his fingers work your buttons and zipper for the second time today.

He’s pulling your bottoms down to your ankles—they’re loose on your form, so they don’t restrict you too much from opening your legs when he slots his thigh in between you, hitting right against your core.

His lips never leave you, biting and kissing every inch he can reach while his hands find their home at the globe of your asscheeks, securing his grip as he begins a steady pace of your crying pussy back and forth on his clothed thigh.

“Just like that, cariño, I can feel you fluttering on me already, holy fuck,” he groans as he continues his assault on your chest, leaving pretty bruises all over the valley of your breasts. “Making such a mess, pretty girl,” he mutters into your skin.

Your hands snake to the curls at the back of his head, yanking them as he brings you back closer and closer to the finish line. He brings his lips back to yours sloppily, one hand leaving your ass to paw at your chest, his fingers rubbing and twisting at your nipples; they harden in his touch.

Your eyes struggle to stay open, his tight jeans providing the yummiest friction against your clit. “I- I’m gonna- please, Jav, I- I need to cum,” you sob.

His hand at your chest snakes down your body, following the path to your sex. Just as you think he’s about to slip his hands between your legs, his hand changes direction, both hands going up to grip your waist to stop you from moving. His thigh leaves your core, and you’re fighting—your hips chase his muscle, your fingers scrambling to pull him flush against you, but he doesn’t budge. It’s no use. Your high is gone again, painfully forced back to the start line as Javier bends down to grab your panties and work their way back up your legs.

You’re a heaving mess, tears falling from your eyes as pathetic little protests fall from your lips.

Exhausted, you sigh and finally blurt out, “Javier Peña, what the fuck are you doing?”

You can see the faintest shit-eating smirk fall on his face before he mirrors what you did earlier: feign innocence. “Gotta go build your dresser, mi amor.”

“I can fucking build it later.”

“But I’m already here. I’ll do it.”

“Yeah, but your presence is needed elsewhere,” you say, annoyed. You faintly gesture to your sobbing cunt, silenced by your soaked underwear.

“But if I’m here, I’ll do it, so you don’t have to,” he says, placing a chaste kiss to the side of your mouth.

“Javi,” you whine, hoping a thousand different ways of are you fucking serious right now translates to him in the tone of your sexual frustration.

“Just sit pretty for me while I go do it real quick, okay, cariño?”

Not giving you the chance to respond, he drags you by the wrist to your bedroom, forcing you to get settled in the reading chair you have in there—a prime spot to watch him get all sweaty as he works. Great.

You wouldn’t have riled him up if you had known this was the kind of torturous game he had in mind.

Twenty minutes in, and Javier is sweating alright, but it’s not for the reasons you’re thinking. Yeah, it’s a physical strain building this dresser, but this is fucking light work for him.

No, he’s sweaty, sticky, and disgustingly hot because his dick is at his full potential, throbbing and leaking at everything you put him through—and everything he put himself through, pulling you to the brink of orgasm twice without letting you fully submit to it. He damn near always gets off when you do, and teasing you like this teases him just as much, if not more.

He’s almost done, he just has one more drawer to put together and slide into place, but he takes a step back and uses his arm to wipe the sweat across his forehead, his breathing heavy during the action. It takes everything in you not to completely melt at what he’s forcing you to witness, a faint whimper escaping you at the sight of him.

It takes him barely a minute to get the last drawer assembled before he attempts sliding it into place. It goes in with ease at first, but before it can fully shut, the drawer gets stuck, unable to close by an inch. What the fuck, he mutters under his breath, lifting it up and wiggling to see if it’s just a kink inside the railing. Your jaw falls a little open at the vulgarity of his mouth; you are way too wound up and everything he’s doing right now has your pussy doing backflips, somersaults, cartwheels—you name it. She’s very eager.

Fed up with the drawer, Javier completely opens the drawer and then slams it shut, using his hips to give the drawer a full-force push. The slam of the wood is deafening, but it does nothing to hide the sweet little gasp that comes out of you, his cock twitching at the sound.

A high-pitched, breathy squeak of an oh fuck leaves your mouth, and Javier turns to check on you. He sees your fingers skating down your front, running your middle and ring finger over your soaked center, your clit’s fire immediately reigniting at the contact.

“¿Cariño?” He calls, a sternness evident in his tone. You know not to test that tone. Your fingers’ movements pause, your eyes meet his and they’re dark. “What do you think you’re doing?” Jesus fuck, he doesn’t even know if he has the strength to fuck you like he was planning on, the sight of you touching yourself has a fire igniting through every vein in his body.

Your eyebrows are furrowed, nervousness written all over your face. “I…um, I-” you start.

“Get up,” he cuts you off.

“What?” You say softly, your brain already scrambled eggs and unable to register what he just asked of you.

His singular eyebrow raises as he stalks closer to you, his hard gaze looking down at you as your pussy cries even more at the attention. Now his command registers, and you’ll be damned if you have to make him repeat himself.

You remove your hand from your center, lifting yourself off your chair. He snags you by your waist, pulling your body flush against his front as he steals the breath from your lungs, your tongues meeting hungrily. You moan into his mouth, your hands slowly wrapping around his neck, but before you can grip his sweet curls, he’s pulling away from you, your surprised gasps blessing his ears as he flips you roughly but with ease towards the direction of your new dresser, already in its place secured against the wall.

“Javi,” you whimper again for what feels like the millionth time already.

“Dime qué quieres, cariño,” (tell me what you want) he rasps in your ear, his hands skating down your front and resuming what you so desperately started.

“F-fuck-” you start, “fuck me, Javi, please, please fuck me,” you beg, your heart stuttering as he dips his middle finger into your entrance.

He kisses your temple as your eyes fall shut, a contrastingly sweet gesture for the way he’s about to ruin you right now.

“Then bend over.”

Now that sobers you up a little. You start to crane your neck in his direction. “W-what?” But he’s quick to grab your jaw, bringing your eyes back to your dresser. “Go do what you were doing earlier, baby. Bend over that dresser for me,” he says, soft but stern, then he’s taking a step back, letting you get there on your own.

So hooked on his body heat, you can’t help the shudder that leaves you, but ultimately you’re making your way to your new dresser—picking yourself up on your tippy toes to lean over the top, just like you were doing with the store’s floor model. “L-like this?” You ask, voice trembling in anticipation. You stick your ass out a little extra for good measure.

You hear his belt buckle before you register his deep grumble. “Yeah, baby,” he tells you, slowly making his way to your backside. “So good for me,” he breathes, his fingers hooking into the hem of your underwear and letting them fall to the ground. You step out of them, knowing his next step is gonna be to nudge your legs further open—and he does, using his foot to nudge both of yours outwards.

He runs his middle finger through your slick as he lets his jeans fall, your hips push further into his touch, chasing the pleasure you’ve been buzzing for all morning.

“Baby, please,” he hears escaping your mouth.

“Nuh uh, baby,” he tuts, “I told you. You had your fun already, it’s my turn.”

He runs his fingers through your wet seam, properly soaking his digits before he brings his hand to his own arousal, covering himself in your slick. He groans at the feeling. Javier crowds himself behind you, his tip immediately mirroring the path of his fingers. He catches himself against your clit, and he smirks at the wrecked sounds of your heavy breathing.

He pushes himself into you, slow and steady, getting you comfortable in his size. His fingertips are digging little bruises into your hips—his way of grounding himself from absolutely pummeling into you from the get go.

You two have been together for quite some while, but Javi knows he’s big. It’s evident in the way you mewl and convulse every time he’s inside of you. Too big to get used to, yet perfect for the slight tinge of pain he knows you love.

“Baby, please move,” you pant.

“You sure, cariño?” He says softly, his dominant demeanor fading to make sure you’re alright.

You reach back to grab onto his hand and drag it up your own body, settling his long digits around the base of your neck. With a squeeze of your hand over his: “Fuck me, Jav, please.”

At your queue, he’s pushing himself into you entirely. “Yeah, baby?” He snarls. “Want me to fuck you like this?” His hips form a hard pace, your hips digging into the ledge of the dresser. “This what your pretty little pussy wants, huh? What she’s been fucking crying for, baby?”

“Fuck-” you gasp. “Fuck, yes- Javi, yesyesyes! Amor, please,” you wail, your eyes rolling back as the pressure of his fingers on your neck restrict your blood flow, filling your body with a euphoria only he can give you.

His eyes scan down your body, taking in every inch of you with nothing but pure adoration. The sweetness fades when his eyes zone in on where your two centers meet. He lets out an audible moan at the sight, sending your pussy fluttering at the sound. “Look at you, bebita, fucking creaming on me, holy fuck,” he groans, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease.

“I- I’m close, baby, fuck-” your breath stutters. “Touch me, Jav, I- I need you,” you moan.

“Shh, I’ve got you, mi amor.” Javi’s hand on your throat leaves you and coasts down your spine, his grip fixing itself on the globe of your ass.

He reaches down with his thumb to gather some of your slick, dragging it up to your tight, more inexperienced hole. You gasp when you feel it, your ass bucking further into his touch. “Oh, my baby girl likes that? You like your ass being played with, cariño?” He taunts, hooking his thumb inside. “Want to me to fuck you there next time?”

“Fuck- yes- please,” you whimper, your pussy fluttering around him at his words. His other hand snakes to your front and reaches for your clit, drawing tight, calculated circles on you. “Oh, fuck-!” you yell out.

“That’s it, baby, fucking- dámelo, fucking soak me, querida” he forces out between his teeth. Your body twitches in his grasp, knuckles stark white against your dresser, eyes clamped shut as you cry out in the overwhelming pleasure consuming every inch of your body. “Fuck,” he groans, your sounds forcing his balls to pull taut. Javi’s fingers speed up along with his thrusts, hurtling you towards your long-awaited climax.

It’s overstimulating, him fucking into you so harshly as every nerve ending in your body pops off like fireworks. Yet, you feel the way his cock twitches inside of you, the way his pace stutters for barely a second, and you know he’s close. It’s overstimulating, yes, but you want, no, need him to continue, you need him to chase his own finish line—you need him to root himself so deep inside you, you’ll feel traces of him for months on end.

“You’re close, I can feel it,” you gasp, building your own rhythm of your hips to help him along. “Need it, baby, need you inside of me,” you pant, your voice desperate. You pull yourself off the dresser and push your back into his chest, both his hands leaving your body to grip onto the darkwood, caging you in.

“Yeah?” you feel his heavy breath fan across your cheek. “Tell me how fucking’ bad, querida, wanna hear it,” he says, voice strained.

You look back at him as best you can in this angle, your lips ghosting his jaw as the slick sounds of you grow louder. “Need you so bad even plan B can’t help us- God- please cum inside of me, Javier Peña, fucking give it to me,” you beg, your moans echoing the walls and rattling every fibre of his being, pushing his body into a state of pure ecstasy as he begins to empty himself into you.

“Oh…fuck,” he grunts, his hips coming to a halt as he nearly wheezes through his orgasm. Once the sensitivity calms down, Javi pumps himself in and out of you a few more times for good measure, pushing his load deep inside of you. You can feel the way he slides in with a wet ease, and it makes butterflies in your belly erupt, a small gasp of a giggle, knowing that the soaked sensation isn’t because of solely your own product.

“Fucking perfect,” he grumbles, slowly pulling himself out of you. He takes a small step back to get a look at your used cunt, puffy and glistening. His mouth literally waters.

Javi drops to his knees, settling his broad palms on each of your ass cheeks to keep the view of you open for him. Slowly, he leans in, the flat of his tongue running over your delicate pearl through your cum-soaked folds, a mix of you and him blessing each taste bud on his tongue. He hears your breath hitch.

He brings his tongue back in, collecting up the salty combination, before he’s on you again, mapping out the ring of your puckered muscle before he softly peppers the area in sweet kisses, your rear slightly irritated with his repeated slamming into you.

He pulls himself away, giving you a moment to turn around; your back is to the dresser now. He places several kisses on your thighs, giving a few more kitten licks to your center before he’s rising to his feet and pulling you in for a deep yet gentle kiss. You can taste both you and him, and it makes your heart want to burst at the seams with warmth.

“You okay?” He asks softly as his lips break away from yours.

“Always with you,” you offer bashfully.

“Good,” he says firmly, kissing the tip of your nose. You hear his hand smack the top of your dresser a few times. “I guess this thing is pretty fucking durable, huh?”

“Mmmm, maybe. I think it needs to pass one more test,” you tell him.

His eyebrow quirks up, you can see his mustache twitch, fighting his smirk. “And what test would that be, mi amor?”

Taking a step back out of his hold, you back up into the dresser again, grabbing onto the ledge and you jump, spreading your legs wide open for him to fit in between.

You can see the way his eyes flash impossibly darker. He stalks up to you again, his hands squeezing your thighs before he’s back on his knees, his head immediately burying himself in your core.

Oh, yeah, this dresser passes the test, alright.

Tagging those who showed interest when I posted the WIP !! @honeyedmiller , @punkshort , @joels-shitty-puns , @bearsbeetsbeskar , @janaispunk , @starry-eyes-love

If you enjoyed this, come check out my masterlist for more or follow my notifs blog @endlessthxxghtsnotifs to get updated on when I post new stories! Much love💚

@pedrostories

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joelsgreys · 1 year

Text

Just Friends (Javier Peña x Female Reader)

Part 2

Summary: You’re planning to have sex for the first time and you’re nervous—Javi offers to show you a thing or two, but just as friends of course.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

Warnings/Tags 🏷 18+ only, minors dni. reader is in late 20’s; reader is an agent for the DEA; established friendship, idiots in love lust, overprotective/slightly jealous Javi; Javi is his canon manwhore self, reader is a virgin, talks of virginity loss and her desire for no strings attached sex, a bit of pining and yearning, lots of pet names, a couple insults, friendship fluff; touching, groping, dry humping, reader gets off, Javi does not. I know, I know. I will make it up to him in part dos. this does not follow the timeline of the show accurately, Messina is in the picture, Connie is still around. reader is bilingual, no descriptions of her race or ethnicity mentioned though. *translations at the end.

Word Count: 7.9k

A/N: This took me forever to edit and post because I’m scared lmao.

thank you to @cutesyscreenname for encouraging me to write this idea. I owe you cherry gansitos!

You observed your own reflection in the full length mirror in front of you and let out a curious little hum as you lifted the short, scarlet red minidress, holding it right up against the length of your body. You then held up the second dress that you had clutched in your opposite hand, a stunning, satin black midi number whose length was a lot longer than the first option, the hem of it falling down to your calves.

It appeared rather innocent, modest enough while it was still on the plastic hanger, but it fit you beautifully, just like a fucking glove. The bodice of the garment cinched at your waist and it was tightly fitted, hugging the curves of your upper body so closely that it looked and even felt like something of a second skin whenever you wore it. The billowy skirt of the dress flowed out around you, darling and sweet at first glance, however it came with a borderline dangerous slit in the side of it that stopped about two or three inches above the middle of your thigh near the hinge of your hip. It exposed the entire length of your leg whenever you walked, danced, or moved around in it—Murphy had once referred to it as the infamous femme fatale dress, telling you that it was a far, far more dangerous weapon than your gun could ever be.

You were fairly certain his remarks had something to do with the fact that you’d worn the dress on a number of different occasions while you were out on the job, going undercover in Bogotá for the US Drug Enforcement Administration.

As the only female agent on her team in Colombia and a younger, very beautiful female agent at that, Messina found herself using you to her advantage quite often these days. She would send you out all over Bogotá in that very same black dress with the hope that it would aid you in luring in members of the Medellín drug cartel in efforts to capture their leader, Pablo Escobar.

Tonight, however, you weren’t going undercover.

You were doing something much more frightening than mingling among some of Colombia’s most dangerous men.

Far, far more daunting than that.

You were going out on a date.

“I like the red dress the best,” Javier’s deep voice came from behind you, startling you slightly. He had mentioned to you earlier that day that he was going to some lounge with Murphy for a smoke and some drinks after work hours since it had been a long, draining week for him at the office; Messina had stuck him with an endless amount of tedious paperwork to do and it had just about driven him insane, but nothing a pack of cigarettes and some bourbon couldn’t fix. With the soft, Latin cumbias playing from the old stereo perched on top of the white oak dresser beside you, you had completely missed the sound of the front door opening and closing when he’d gotten home.

You glanced over your shoulder to see him standing there in the open doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. Javier’s dark brown eyes were fixed intently on you, a small, devilish smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he casually leaned up against the door frame of your bedroom. Well, technically, it was actually the guest bedroom of his apartment unit that he’d let you take over several months ago. The housing department of the agency had placed you into a unit in the building across the street from his, right next door to Murphy and his wife, Connie. It had been a special arrangement requested by your diligent supervisor in an effort to make sure that no one found themselves in a compromising situation—she trusted you enough not to get any dumb ideas, but she didn’t trust Peña as far as she could throw him. It wasn’t very far.

While it had certainly been quite nice, and even kind of comforting at times to have Steve and Connie as your neighbors, you’d expressed to Javier one night over dinner at his place that you weren’t all too fond of having to live alone. Without an ounce of hesitation on his part, Javi offered to have you move into his spare bedroom that very same evening after you were both done eating, but only on the condition that Messina didn’t find out about the new living arrangement. She would wring Javier’s neck with her bare hands if knew that you two had been sharing his apartment this entire time.

Hell, she would wring yours too. And you were the favorite child of sorts. Less annoying than Murphy and certainly a lot less problematic than Peña.

She only liked you because she never had to worry about you. On or off the job.

But even though you were Messina’s number one, her star player, that would do absolutely nothing to spare you from her wrath if she ever came to find out that you were living with Javier Peña. She wasn’t a fan of just how close the two of you had become over the last several months; she’d told you herself that she much preferred it if you kept your distance from him while you were off duty. One wrong move on your part or Javi’s and it was game fucking over. Messina wouldn’t hesitate to send one of your asses packing, back home to be assigned somewhere else, somewhere far away from the other.

Pursing your lips together lightly, you turned your attention back over to the mirror. Raising an eyebrow, you lifted the red minidress up against your body once more to get another good look at it, as if you hadn’t just been staring at it for the last five minutes before he’d appeared. “I don’t know, Javi. I don’t like this one all that much to be honest. I’m not even sure why the hell I let Connie talk me into buying it in the first place. She said it was cute,” You remarked, tilting your head slightly to the side. You wrinkled your nose at the diamond cut out design in the sides of it. Whoever designed it must have not had enough money to spring for more a teensy bit more fabric. “But it’s kind of tacky. And it makes me look like a whore.”

“Mm yes, but a very beautiful whore,” Javi stated, his smirk widening as he drank in the gorgeous sight of you before him. He licked his lips, openly admiring the way you were clad in nothing but one of his shirts, his pink button up with short sleeves that you had once told him you loved so much because it was your favorite color; you’d sneakily stolen it out of his closet on laundry day a couple weeks back while all of your clothes had been in the washing machine and had never given it back to him. Not that Javier even really wanted it back at this point—his shirt looked a million times better on you than ever it did on him. Seeing you in it did inexplicable things to him and he fucking loved it when you padded around your now shared apartment in nothing but a pair of panties and his pink shirt. He took another glimpse at you, nearly foaming at the mouth at how it fit your frame, how the hem of it fell to the tops of your smooth thighs, the material hardly doing anything to cover up the tantalizing curves of your hips and your perfect ass. “Hermosura. The most beautiful whore in all of Colombia.”

You narrowed your eyes at him through the mirror, wishing you had a free hand you could flip him off with. “Gee, thanks for the compliment, Peña. You are always such a fucking charmer, aren’t you?”

“Oh, come on. Solo es una bromita, muñeca. No tienes por qué ofenderte. I’m just messing around with you. You know I don’t think you actually look like a whore—and trust me, I know what a whore looks like,” he responded with a deep and hearty laugh. He uncrossed his arms, allowing them to fall down to his sides as he pushed himself away from the door frame. He sauntered his way further into your bedroom, uninvited. “I’m being serious about the dress, though. Go with the red one. El vestido rojo. It’s perfect. Besides, that color would look gorgeous on you, cariño. I bet it would look almost as good on you as pink does.” He laughed again as he added, “Nice shirt, by the way.”

Your annoyed expression immediately softened into one of guilt. “I’ve been meaning to give you your shirt back,” You told him, sheepishly. “Te lo juro, Javi.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you have,” Javier snorted, waving off the little white lie. He finally forced himself to tear his attention away from you and glanced around, observing the current state of your room instead. It looked like a tornado had hit the inside of your closet; dresses, jackets, and high heeled shoes were strewn all over the place. He wasn’t all too surprised by the mess. He knew you like he knew the back of his own hand by now, and this was typical of you when you were searching for the perfect outfit to wear on a free night out in the city. “I don’t remember you telling me you had any plans tonight, bonita. What’s the occasion? Going out for drinks with the chismosas of the office? Or are you going out for a girl’s night with Connie?”

You momentarily hesitated.

“Actually, I have a date.”

Through the mirror, you saw the smile fade from Javier’s face almost instantly.

Here we go, You thought inwardly to yourself.

“You have a date? With who?” he demanded.

Reluctantly, you turned around to face him. “You know Valeria, don’t you?”

The color drained from his face.

“That’s the translator who works up on the third floor, right?” He touched his hand to the back of his neck, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know her, but I’ve seen her around a couple of times.”

You almost laughed at the manner in which Javier tried playing dumb.

Of course he knew Valeria.

He had fucked her three weeks ago.

Javi had tried to keep it on the down low, but loud mouthed Valeria would brag to anyone who would listen all about how Agent Peña had fucked her in her office one evening while they’d been working late together and everyone else had gone home. Not that Javier even needed her services as a translator, he’d just needed an excuse to find himself in her office after hours so he could get his dick wet.

For some strange reason, you felt oddly fucking generous and decided to let Javier have this one, playing along with him and his sheer stupidity. “Yeah, her. She has an older brother who’s visiting the city for a few days. His name is Diego. He’s an immigration attorney who is here on business in Bogotá. She offered to set me up with him,” You explained, keeping everything as brief as possible. “I’m meeting him for drinks tonight.”

Javier frowned. “Have you met him in person?”

“Well no, but Valeria showed me his picture and she told me all about him. It’s not like he’s just some random ass guy I met on the street, Javi. He’s her brother, she advocated for him,” You tried to reason with him, knowing all too well where this conversation was heading. Sure, it was nice to know that Javier cared about you enough to be concerned about you meeting up with someone who was essentially a complete stranger, but it wasn’t like you couldn’t handle yourself. You’d spent many evenings sitting right in the laps of the violent criminals who worked for Escobar—a blind date with a coworker’s brother was nothing for him to make a fuss over. “I really don’t think that I have anything to worry about with him.”

He rigidly shook his head. “Look, no offense to Valeria, but I don’t like the idea of you running around this city at night with some fucking prick that you’ve never even met before. And before you throw all that undercover bullshit at me, just know that it’s not the same thing. You aren’t going out on the job tonight. You’re not going out with your team on standby to watch your back, you’re not going out with me and Murphy armed and ready to jump into action if things head south. What if something happens to you?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at the complete and utter ridiculousness of his drama king antics. “Oh, give me a fucking break, Peña. Diego’s not a member of the fucking cartel, he’s a lawyer. And besides that, you’re acting like I can’t take care of myself.”

“Listen, I know damn good and well that you can take care of yourself just fine, muñeca. But still, that doesn’t make me feel any better about this whole arrangement.” Javier’s hands went to his waist and he let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head once again. “I’m going to need to meet this guy before you go out with him. I don’t care whose fucking brother he is—whichever way you try to spin it, the bottom line is that he’s a still a fucking stranger and I want to check him out for myself before I let you go out with him.” He saw the mischievous twinkle in your eyes and peered at you suspiciously. “Please tell me he’s coming to pick you up here at the apartment.”

You laughed. “Of course not, Javi. I’m not stupid. I already knew you would behave like this. I knew you would go straight into overprotective mode, just like you always do. I didn’t want you scaring him off, so I’m taking a taxi cab and we’re meeting up at the bar instead.” You easily clocked the all too familiar glint in his eye and smiled sweetly at him. “And don’t even think about trying to guess which one it is so that you can show up and keep tabs on me the whole night. There are thousands of bars in this damn city and I can promise you that you’re not smart enough to figure out which one we’re going to, Agent Peña.”

Annoyed by the smugness in your tone and the way it was starting to get under his skin, Javier’s lips pressed into a thin, tight line. He watched you walk over to your closet, subtly swaying your hips to the music as you pulled out yet another dress to add to your rapidly growing list of options.

He could feel the envy prickling at each and every last single nerve ending in his entire body, his frustrations stewing at the mere thought of you going out with another man. His jaw clenched and he forced himself to shove the feeling down knowing damn well that he didn’t have the right to be jealous. Not when you two weren’t anything more than just friends.

If you’d just been a coworker, it would be different.

Javier would gladly, happily, risk mixing business with pleasure as he had so often done in the past with several secretaries—and a translator or two—in his time. But no matter how hard he’d tried over and over again to place you into that box, into that category, he simply couldn’t bring himself to do it.

You weren’t just his coworker, you were his friend.

His best friend.

For as much shit as he gave you, you mattered to him. You were important to him, way too important to ever risk fucking up your friendship by fucking you.

Still. Javier would be lying if he said he didn’t think about it. He thought about it all the damn time. When he discovered that fucking himself into the palm of his hand and moaning your name quietly over and over again under his breath didn’t quite do the job for him anymore, he would find himself standing outside of your bedroom prepared to say fuck it all and make his move on you. But then it happened every single fucking time without fail—as soon as he lifted his curled fist to knock on your door, he started to remember things.

He’d remember the way you could so easily make him laugh with your clever and quick witted sense of humor. He remembered all those late nights you two would spend together lounging on his brown leather couch in your pajamas watching old, poorly made slasher films while indulging in the greasiest, unhealthiest takeout Bogotá had to offer. He remembered how you could read him just like a fucking magazine, how you always knew when something was wrong—and how you would always somehow know exactly what to say and do to comfort him whenever he needed it the most.

He would remember how you’d come to feel like his home away from home.

And then he would drop his hand right back down to his side, whirl around on his heel, and march straight back into his bedroom where he had little choice but to go back to fantasizing about what could never be between you and him.

Snapping himself out of his own train of thought, Javier carefully stepped over the mountains of clothing and shoes on the floor and made his way over to another pile of dresses that were draped over the foot of your bed. He caught a glimpse of the lingerie set on top of them, brand new with the price tag still attached to the fabric; the set was black, made of delicate, see through lace that would leave very little to the imagination when you put it on. He picked up the thong, hooking the thin elastic of it around his index finger. “Something tells me that you’re not planning on coming back home tonight.”

“What are you talking about?” Confused, you turned around and gasped, dropping the dresses in your hands. “Javier!”

“Are these even going to cover anything up?” he teased you with a laugh, his eyes gleaming with pure amusement as they darted between the thong and the lower half of your body. “Falta mucha tela, cariño.”

You rushed up to him and made a dive for the underwear. “Give me those!”

“How come you don’t ever wear anything like this around the apartment, hermosa?” Javi dangled them above your head and out of your reach. “All I ever get to see you in are those cotton panties, the ones with polka dots on them.” He glanced down, getting an eyeful of you and the aforementioned polka dot panties. “Kind of like the ones you’re wearing now—”

“Javier, cut it out!” You placed a hand on his shoulder as the other continued grabbing for the lingerie. “Come on, stop being such a fucking asshole!”

Although he could have easily enjoyed taunting you for hours and hours on end, Javier knew you wouldn’t hesitate to have your knee meet his balls. Not wanting to risk ending up on your floor curled up in pain, he eased up and handed them over to you.

“Idiota!” You hissed at him, furiously snatching the underwear out of his hand. You stomped over to your dresser and shoved them into the middle drawer, slamming it closed so hard the old stereo nearly went crashing to the floor. “You can be a real fucking douchebag, Peña.”

Javier wasn’t bothered by the insults; he’d grown used to those—however any trace of playfulness vanished as the reality began to set in for him. The reality of you sleeping with another a man tonight. “Wait a minute, are you really planning to fuck the guy?” He didn’t even make the attempt to mask the disappointment that laced his tone. “I mean, you haven’t even met him yet. I didn’t think you were that kind of girl, querida.”

“You sound awful judgmental for someone who brings home a different escort every other fucking week,” You snapped at him, placing your hands on your hips. “Oh, and speaking of escorts, I had the pleasure of meeting Alessandra in the bathroom this morning. She asked if I had a tank top that she could borrow since apparently you got too eager and ripped her shirt off last night.” You tilted your head, squinting at him as he started shuffling uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “If you happen to go back to her for a second round, tell her that I want it back. Washed.”

Javier grimaced, looking down at the floor. “Shit. I thought she would be gone by the time you woke up,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “Lo siento, bonita. I’m sorry.”

You blinked. “Sorry for what?”

He opened his mouth, then clamped it shut.

Javier wasn’t all too sure, actually.

He didn’t have anything to apologize for, not really.

He was a single man who could do as, and who, he pleased.

Yet he still felt like a pile of dog shit knowing you’d encountered Alessandra while he had still been asleep.

You would never admit it, but Javier knew that to some extent, it hurt you to run into the women he would bring home. As if having to hear him railing them on the other side of your bedroom wall for hours wasn’t bad enough, having to meet them the following morning and seeing them half naked with their smeared makeup and disheveled hair from the previous night’s activities only made it so much fucking worse.

Having read his mind, you sighed and offered him some reassurance. “It’s fine, Javi. We both know that you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” You said, prompting him to look back up at you. You pointed a finger at him. “I do want my shirt back, though. And then maybe I’ll be nice and give you back yours.”

You expected Javi to scamper off to his room with his tail between his legs in shame. It was what he usually did—he’d avoid you for about a few hours until the dust settled, and then everything would go back to normal. Instead of running off, he stood there and spoke again.

“Are you really going to have sex with this guy?”

You tried to ignore how disheartened he sounded.

“I don’t know,” You confessed, quietly. “I want to have sex with him, but I don’t know if I’ll actually have the fucking balls to go through with it.”

“Por qué? Estas nerviosa?”

Though Javier hadn’t been poking fun at you, you couldn’t help but feel irritated with him for asking you if you were nervous; because you actually were nervous, and him asking you only made you even more fucking nervous. “And so what if I am a little nervous?” You challenged him, lightly. “Sorry that we’re not all just confidently fucking our way through this city like you are, Peña.”

“When’s the last time you had sex, anyway?”

“None of your fucking business, that’s when,” You quipped.

“That’s not fair.” Javi pouted at you. “You know when the last time I had sex was.”

“Not by choice,” You retorted. “You’re right on the other side of my paper thin wall and I left my Walkman in the office.”

Javi waited expectantly for an answer. He wasn’t going to drop the subject, and you knew that.

“You’re such a stubborn son of a bitch, you know that?” You muttered. Feeling a burning heat flood to your face, you decided to give him just about the most generic answer there was in order to get him off your back. “It was a long, long time ago.”

“Okay, but how long ago?” He pressed, curiously. “Are we talking weeks? Months?”

Your stomach began to churn violently, the hidden secret you’d kept to yourself for your entire adult life now at risk of being exposed.

“I-I really don’t remember,” You stammered out in response, averting your gaze away from his. “Can we not talk about my sex life, please? Besides, it’s getting late and I still need to take a shower and get ready for my date tonight. So if you would just kindly fuck all the way off, that would be great.”

Javier took a step back and there was a very brief moment where you had been certain you’d just narrowly avoided what could have been a painful, humiliating conversation. However, just as he was about to turn to leave, Javi’s eyes widened as it slowly clicked into place for him.

“Wait a minute—are you fucking serious?”

You groaned. “Javier, please don’t. For the sake of what’s left of my sanity, please don’t,” You nearly pleaded him, wishing that a large, Twilight Zone style swirling vortex would open up in the middle of your floor and swallow you whole.

“You’ve never had sex before,” he realized. “Have you?”

Your face felt like it had caught on fire.

Not knowing what to say or even do, you clasped your hands together and wrung them anxiously in front of you.

Of all the people to find out your secret, it just had to be Peña.

“Cariño, are you really a virgin?”

Surprised, you looked up at him.

Javi wasn’t teasing you or being a dick about it.

He seemed genuinely perplexed by the fact that you’d never had sex before. Not that it made it any less mortifying.

“Yes,” You admitted, exhaling the breath that you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding in. “I’m a virgin, alright? There, are you satisfied?”

“But how? Going undercover? And informants—”

Despite the circumstances, you couldn’t help but laugh. “I know this might come as a shock to you, but you don’t always have to fuck your informants to get what you need out of them, Peña. It’s not a requirement. I use my brains, not my body.”

“You’re shaming me for using my body?” he joked lightly, hoping it would further ease the awkward nature of the conversation—for your sake, not his.

“Just a little bit.” You offered him a small, crooked smile and felt your tense shoulders finally begin to relax. “You’re probably going to think it’s stupid or maybe even crazy, but the truth is that I’ve always wanted to wait and give it to the right man. Maybe even to a man that I’m in love with. But with the way my romantic life has been going, it just seems like that’s never going to happen for me.” You shrugged. “I just want to lose it already, Javi. I’m almost in my fucking thirties—either I lose it now, or I may as well throw in the damn towel and join a convent.”

“You would look kind of cute in a nun’s habit,” Javi mused, thoughtfully.

You shot him a glare, but felt the corners of your mouth threatening to turn up into another smile.

After a long minute, Javier broke the silence that had fallen over the both of you. “So then, Valeria’s older brother is the man you’re going to lose your virginity to? Tonight?”

“That’s the plan. He’s only here until the end of the week. It’d be no strings attached, so it works out perfectly.” You anxiously chewed on the inside of your cheek. “But only if I can find the courage to actually go through with it.”

“What are you afraid of?”

“Not knowing what to do.”

Javier quirked an eyebrow. “It’s not exactly rocket science, querida.”

You resisted the sudden urge to go up to him and backhand the stupid smirk right off of his face.

“Could you please just take me seriously for one second, Peña?” You huffed out in frustration. “I’m just really fucking nervous about it, alright? What if I can’t—what if I’m not good at it?”

Javi’s bottom lip rolled between his teeth and he stifled his laughter. “Preciosa, you’re being kind of…” He trailed off, trying to choose his next word carefully.

You lifted your chin. “Kind of what?”

“Ridiculous. And before you come over here and start pummeling me to death with those little fists of yours...” He stopped and held up his hands in defense. He took a second or two to let eyes glaze over you from head to toe. “I’m only saying that because you’re fucking gorgeous, muñequita. Any man would be lucky to have a night with you. You have nothing to be afraid of.”

“It’s not about how I look, Javier. It’s about how I perform.” You felt your face grow hot for what had to be the umpteenth time in the last ten minutes. Never did you think this would be a conversation you’d be having with him of all fucking people. “I listen to the way those women you bring home—I hear what they do to you. And I hear how much you like it.”

His lips parted slightly. “And you want to do that to him?”

“I want to make him feel good.”

Javier’s jealously simmered in his veins. But what could he do?

Nothing, that’s what. Just like him, you could do as, and who, you pleased. But if he could just get his hands on you first, at least to some extent, it would help ease the blow. He saw nothing wrong with blurring the lines, so long as he didn’t cross them.

Javi hummed. “If you really want to know how to make a man feel good, I can help you.”

“You can help me?” You repeated. “How?”

“By showing you a thing or two.”

You let out something mixed between a scoff and a laugh.

“I am not having sex with you, Peña.”

He tossed you an innocent look. “That’s not what I was suggesting at all.” He crossed the bedroom and walked over to you, reaching for your hands. He took them in his own and then started pulling you towards your bed. “If you’re really that worried about not knowing what to do, I can give you a few pointers. And calmada, querida. Our clothes stay on,” he reassured you before you could open your mouth to protest. “Just think of it as a friend helping out a friend. There’s nothing wrong with that, right?”

You chewed on your lower lip. “I don’t know about this, Javi.”

Javier’s thumbs softly smoothed across the back of your hands. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“Right now, I’m not so sure that I do.” You paused long enough for him to throw you an exasperated, almost offended look. You rolled your eyes at him and nodded your head. “Yes, of course I trust you, Peña. I trust you with my fucking life. Literally, I put my life in your hands at least once or twice a week.”

“Then let me help you, hermosa.”

You inhaled a deep breath, held it for a moment, then exhaled it softly. “Fine. But remember, our clothes stay on—” You were cut off, all the air leaving your lungs as Javi yanked you forward, slamming you against his chest. You looked up at him, ready to give him a piece of your mind for knocking the wind out of you, but as his eyes met yours, words failed you and all you could do was stare at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

This could not possibly end well.

And yet here you were, going along with it.

He snaked an arm around your waist, holding your body flush against his. Feeling how tense you had become, stiff as a fucking board, Javi gave you a light shake in an effort to get you to loosen up a bit. “First thing is first, you need to relax. There’s no need to overthink this, cariño. Especially not with me.” He reached up with his opposite hand, letting his index finger feather along your jawline. He then slipped it underneath your chin, lifting it ever so slightly and forcing you to look right into his rich pools of espresso. “I mean it. It really wouldn’t take much for a beautiful girl like you to drive me—I mean, drive him wild.”

You tried your hardest to keep your voice from trembling, but between his touch and being in such close proximity, you were finding it a hell of a lot more difficult than you’d imagined. “Show me, Peña. What drives you—I mean, what’s going to drive him wild?”

“Well, it always starts with the right kiss.”

You quickly shook your head. “Javi—”

“Kiss me.”

Had he lost his fucking mind?

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” You echoed your thoughts

“Just a friend helping out a friend,” Javi reminded you in a murmur. “Remember?”

You should have said no. You should have decked him for even suggesting such a thing.

Instead, you gave him a small nod. You rested your hands delicately on his hard, lean chest and tilted your head upwards, lightly pressing your lips to his for a split second before quickly pulling away.

“There.”

“That was fucking pathetic,” Javier laughed softly, his warm breath fanning over the tip of your nose. “You’re not kissing your abuela, you know.”

You smacked his chest. “Javi! Leave my grandma out of this.”

“You have to kiss a man like you actually want him, querida. Here, allow me to demonstrate.”

Your throat went dry as his grip around your waist tightened. He moved his other hand away from your chin and it went to the back of your neck, gingerly tilting your head up towards his. Your heart hammered almost painfully against your ribcage, beating way too hard and way too fast for him not to feel it against his own chest. You had to silently remind yourself to breathe as Javi inched his face closer to yours, slowly. You knew that he was doing it on purpose, moving an agonizingly glacial pace to allow your anticipation to build; all the while his dark eyes were staring deeply into the depths of your very fucking soul, causing a fire to set ablaze deep in your lower belly.

Your thighs clenched together involuntarily as the tip of his nose skimmed a spot near the corner of your mouth, his lips brushing the underside of your jawline.

God, he was fucking good.

“Javi…” You uttered his name weakly.

You needed to stop this. Javier was your friend—friends didn’t do shit like this.

Javi sensed your reluctance. “It’s alright, mi vida,” he whispered, uttering an affectionate pet name that he’d never used before. He gave you a small grin as he moved in to finally close the small gap of space between your faces. His lips met yours and every ridiculous cliché of sparks flying and fireworks exploding occurred the moment they did. His tongue swept across your bottom lip, gently coaxing its way into your mouth to begin a slow, sensual dance with yours. Cupping the back of your neck, he tilted your head up a bit further, granting himself better access to your mouth so that he could fully explore it inch by inch.

There was kissing other men.

And then there was kissing Javier.

Whimpering, your body melted against his as he swelled your lips with a kiss that was slow and sensual, yet somehow still hungry and possessive at the same time. Javier’s hands travelled down to your hips, his fingers skimming the hem of his shirt that you wore. He took the opportunity to sneak them underneath the garment, allowing them to meet the warmth of your skin.

Gasping, you jerked back and pulled away from him.

“Javier!” You squeaked out his name breathlessly, furiously swatting his hands away from your sides. You glared at him. “I thought we agreed, our clothes fucking stay on!”

“Funny, I wasn’t aware that I was taking any of your clothes off.” Javier reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. He then took a step backwards and gestured towards your bed. “Lay down.”

Your mouth fell open at his request.

“W-what?” You sputtered out, your eyes wide.

“You heard me. Get on the bed and lay down.”

Javi reached down, sweeping your pile of dresses off of the bed and onto the floor.

“Why? What are you going to do?” You questioned him, shuffling anxiously from one bare foot to the other.

Javier rolled his eyes and let out a small, impatient sigh. “Just do it, hermosa. You can trust me.”

Swallowing harshly, you obeyed him and walked around to the side of your bed, taking a seat. You inhaled another deep breath before bringing your legs up and laying back, your head resting against your decorative pillows. You nervously tugged and pulled at the hem of his stolen pink shirt, trying to cover yourself up as best as you could as you laid there, sprawled out before him; however Javier had other plans. He climbed onto the bed after you, positioning his body so it hovered over yours. He nudged your legs apart with his knee, settling himself right in between your thighs. He grabbed one of your legs and hiked it up around his waist, putting the two of you in a very, very dangerous position. His fingers remained wrapped around your thigh, his touch burning right into your soft flesh as he held your leg in place around him.

“Don’t be shy, muñequita.” His voice had gone low and husky. He trailed his hand further up your thigh.

He grinned, feeling satisfied with himself when he felt the goosebumps erupt across your skin.

“Shut up, I’m not shy,” You fibbed, prompting him to chuckle.

“Mentirosa.” Javi’s hand abandoned your leg and he brought his hand up to the side of your face to cradle your cheek in his palm. His thumb brushed across your bottom lip.

“Kiss me,” he commanded, gently. “And this time, kiss me like you mean it.”

You reached up for him with trembling hands and grabbed two fistfuls of his pewter blue, button up shirt. You pulled him down towards you and lifted yourself up slightly off your pillows, crashing your mouth against his. You allowed yourself to finally release any fears that you might have had before and kissed him greedily and with fervor, as if it would be the very last time you’d ever get to kiss Javier Peña—because it very well could be the last time you would ever get to kiss Javier Peña.

You kissed him deeply, going on until your lungs began to burn—you only broke away from him once they started screaming, demanding oxygen.

Tearing yourself apart from him, you released his shirt and dropped back down onto your pillows, breathlessly asking, “Better?”

“Oh, so much better. Good girl, mi muñequita linda,” he praised, grinning again as he caressed the silkiness of your cheek. He lowered his head and lips ghosted over yours for a moment before he moved them down your neck, feathering kisses to any exposed skin peeking out from underneath his shirt. His hand found your breast and he groaned realizing that you weren’t wearing a bra underneath it. He kneaded the perfect, soft mound of flesh through the thin fabric, rolling your hardened nipple between his fingers. He bucked his hips into yours, causing a loud moan to escape from your lips the second you felt his hardened cock through his tight, light blue jeans. He caught sight of the way you blushed at the sound that he’d elicited from you and his grin widened. “Noises like that? The louder the better. So don’t hold back, preciosa.”

“What else can I do to make you—to make him feel good?”

Javier dipped his face right into the hollow of your neck, thinking it over for a moment. “A woman who takes control can be very sexy. I like it—I bet he’ll like it if you get on top.”

“I think I can do that.” Biting your bottom lip, you placed your hands on his chest and pushed him back, sliding yourself out from underneath him. You guided him to lay back onto your pillows and climbed on top of him, straddling his waist.

Shit. Javier cursed inwardly.

Maybe he’d been in over his head with this idea.

He knew at some point he’d have to stop it from going too far—but would he be able to?

“How do you like it?” You asked him, shyly. This time, you hadn’t bothered to correct yourself.

You didn’t want to know how to please another man.

You wanted to know how to please Javi.

Even if you’d never get the chance to do it.

“Depends on the mood,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders in the most nonchalant manner that he could muster under the circumstances—as if his cock wasn’t rock hard, straining against the zipper of his jeans and begging to be inside you.

“Te gusta despacito?” You start to rock your hips back and forth against his, slowly. “Do you like it slow?”

Javier’s breath hitched in the back his throat. At this point, there was no doubt about it—you could feel him underneath you, throbbing. “Sometimes,” he managed to choke out in reply. “Like I said. Just depends on the mood.”

“Or what about like this?” You grinned down at him, gaining a sense of confidence as you started to move faster on top of him, finding your perfect rhythm. You could see and clearly feel what you were doing to him. Knowing that you were having this kind of effect on Peña was nothing short of a fucking dream come true.

His hands went to your hips, holding on as you picked up the pace, grinding your clothed core down against his bulge.

You could feel your own arousal pooling between your legs, soaking your panties; you wouldn’t be surprised if you’d leave behind a wet spot on his jeans. “How am I doing?”

“Fucking amazing, muñeca,” he answered, earnestly. His long, thick fingers dug into your sides as he suggested, “It helps if you put on a little show while you’re up there, too.” He then pictured you in that sexy black lingerie set you’d bought; he imagined what it would be like to slip that tiny little thong to the side so you could freely ride his cock. The mere thought had him seeing stars.

“A show, huh?” You smirked and popped the top two buttons of your shirt—his shirt—exposing the smooth valley between your breasts to him. “I think I can do that too,” You giggled, pulling the fabric to the side, just enough to give him the tiniest glimpse of the soft curves of your chest but not enough to expose yourself completely.

“Hermosa,” he couldn’t help but groan out. It took every ounce of strength he had inside him not to reach up and tear his shirt right off of you so he could see all of you.

You grabbed his hands from your hips and slowly began guiding them all around your body. You started by placing them on your breasts, giving him permission to cop another feel before moving them slowly down the lengths of your sides and placing them on your bare thighs. From there, you picked up Javi’s hands once more and placed them behind you, allowing him to take two generous handfuls of your ass. Your hands then abandoned his and you placed them on his chest, supporting yourself as you continued to roll your hips against his, riding him through his jeans. You tossed your head back and closed your eyes; the friction of your clit against his pelvis even through all the clothes felt like absolute heaven, and you let out a lustful moan that bounced off of your bedroom walls as you continued to drive your hips harder against his own.

Realizing that this was no longer a lesson and you were actually pleasuring yourself, Javier groaned again. He moved his hands back to your hips and found himself bucking his own hips upwards to meet you halfway—he abandoned any and all worries about taking it too far. He wanted you to come.

He needed to see you come.

“Javi,” You gasped his name, moaning again.

“That’s it, muñeca,” he rasped out. “Just like that, baby. Keep going. What a good girl, what a good fucking girl.”

Any and all common sense had been washed away by pleasure and by your need to reach that sweet, sweet release.

It was so close. You felt him right there, right between your clothed folds, and all you could do was imagine what it would be like to have his cock fill you up and stretch you completely.

His name began to slip from your lips, rolling off of your tongue over and over again with such ease.

Your movements fell in perfect sync with his.

You went down, he went up.

You pulled, he pushed.

No doubt about it, Javier was trying to get you off.

Somehow, you find a voice that speaks in between all your pitiful little pants.

“J-Javi, maybe we s-shouldn’t—”

Javier quickly sat up and wrapped one of his arms around your waist. He slammed your mouths together, silencing you mid sentence. He thrusted upwards, and you whined into his kiss, rubbing your clit against his bulge even harder.

The beginning of your orgasm coiled up tightly in your belly, and you knew it would spring forward any second now.

“Javi, I’m so close—”

“It’s okay, hermosa. Come for me,” he mumbled into your mouth. “I’ve got you.”

Your arms found their way around his shoulders and you buried your face into his neck. Squeezing your eyes shut, your loud cries came out muffled against his collarbone as you unraveled, coming undone with one last cry of his name.

You slumped forward, resting your head on his shoulder as you fought to catch your breath, the pleasure still pulsing between your thighs.

Javier’s other arm curled around you and he said nothing as he held you.

Once you’d finally started coming down from your high, your eyes flew open and a chill went up the length of your spine.

What had you two just done?

Still straddling his lap, you pulled back. “Javi—”

Without warning, Javier flipped you over so you were on your back underneath him once again. He hovered over you, his eyes meeting yours for just a moment before he dipped his head and captured your lips with his one final, deep and sensual kiss.

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about tonight,” he murmured once he had pulled away. “You’re fucking perfect, mi vida.”

He touched the tip of his nose to yours before climbing off of you.

“I fucking hope this guy realizes what a lucky son of a bitch he is,” Javier said quietly before turning on the heel of his boot and walking out of your bedroom, leaving you laying there with your mouth parted open in complete shock.

Translations

Solo es una bromita, muñeca. No tienes por qué ofenderte. - It’s just a little joke, doll. No need to get offended.

El vestido rojo. - The red dress.

Te lo juro, Javi. - I swear to you, Javi.

Chismosas - Gossipers

Falta mucha tela, cariño. - There is a lot of fabric missing, darling.

Mentirosa. - Liar.

Te gusta despacito? - Do you like it a little slow?

#javier peña #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña x y/n #javier peña x you #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña fic #javier peña angst #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x y/n #javier pena #pedro pascal characters #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #javier peña smut #narcos smut #javier pena smut

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joelscurls · 5 months

Text

give in to temptation

pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

words: 5.5k

summary: you're in a relationship now — a good, healthy relationship — that doesn't stop you from texting your ex Javi late at night.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, post Narcos s3, porn with plot, smoking, alcohol consumption, explicit smut, sexting, infidelity (I do not condone cheating, but unfortunately it's hot when it's with Javi), reference to masturbation (f), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, use of pet names (cariño, querida, baby, etc.); lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: hi! enjoy 5kish words of dubious morals bc I couldn't get this idea out of my head :)

Humidity clings to the walls, bedsheets strewn across your legs damp with sweat. You kick at them aimlessly, and the cotton grips tighter to slick skin.

In the curve of your palm rests your phone, ringer switched off and brightness turned all the way down — the last thing you want is to wake your boyfriend, dozing next to you as you text another man.

Your fingers are clammy where they wrap around metal, sweat pooling in the divots between your knuckles.

This is wrong; you know it’s wrong, just like every time preceding this one. But the guilt does nothing to slow the adrenaline racing through your veins. If anything, it makes your heart thump harder.

That, and the words pixelated on the tiny screen of your flip-phone.

Javi [2:03am]: I’ve been thinking about you all day, cariño. Got me so hard.

You’d met Javier Peña just over a year ago.

A young woman alone at the bar, you’d drawn him in like a moth to a flame. He had dark brooding eyes and a savior complex that’d been made more apparent with each story he’d shared about his time as a DEA attaché in Colombia, from which he’d recently returned.

Do you miss it? you’d asked, nursing a martini.

Like hell, he’d said. But I have nothing left to give.

I don’t know if I believe you, you’d countered with a wink.

Not an hour later, you’d found yourself in his living room, dress hiked up to your waist as he devoured you.

Sex with Javi was easy, mindless. For a while, his body served as a refuge for you after shitty days at work and arguments with your overbearing mother. A lone beacon in the fog, he was always more than willing to help you forget the stressors in your life. And your own name.

It was passionate, and filthy, and sticky — left your legs trembling and your head dizzy — each and every time.

With him, you didn’t have to talk. Didn’t have to think. It was just sex, with no strings and no labels. Your relationship, if you could call it that, was perpetuated by the transcendent pleasure you felt in the spaces between words, when your mouths were preoccupied.

But when your birthday came and went and you found yourself another year older, an aching feeling settled in your gut — a feeling that time had begun to pass more quickly than it used to. And on its heels came the desire for something more, something you knew Javi was not willing to provide: a relationship.

The decision to end things was mutual, amicable. It was the easiest “breakup” you’d ever gone through. Maybe because it wasn’t a “breakup” at all.

A few weeks later, you’d met Nathan, a law student with a polite disposition and an eagerness to settle down. He’d treated you well, the type to open doors for you and ask about your day. On all fronts, he was a good man — a little boring, but good.

After a month, you made it official. After two, he moved into your place.

And you stopped thinking about Javi, about the way his large hand had fit perfectly around your throat, the way he’d been able to coax you to orgasm in two different languages. No, you only thought about the man in front of you, the one with the steadily growing collection of argyle ties and the unstamped passport.

Sex with Nathan was admittedly different. He didn’t make you cum as quickly or as easily; your body didn’t crave his with the same amount of fervor it had Javier’s. But it was loving, sweet, what any woman would want…should want.

And it was normal that you thought about your ex sometimes when your current partner laid his weight on top of you, that you imagined a different mouth slotted against your neck or on your tits. Because certainly, everyone did that every once in a while. It was harmless.

As long as you never uttered his name out loud, he’d remain only in your head, lost to time to exist there forevermore.

But then came the day in the grocery store, on your date to the cereal aisle to restock Nathan’s favorite, bran flakes. He’d materialized like a ghost of good sex’s past.

You didn’t dare speak to him, didn’t trust yourself to. Under the bright fluorescent lights, you’d felt your palms begin to sweat, your throat constrict, eyes glued to the selection of boxes in front of you. But while Nathan debated between store brand and name brand, you’d snuck another cautious glance at him.

Javi’s expression was unreadable. He’d looked between you and Nathan as if he were trying to solve a rubix cube. One he was becoming increasingly frustrated by. He’d gripped the handle of his shopping cart so tightly, the skin on his knuckles appeared near translucent.

And then he’d disappeared, tiny wheels on the carriage screeching, noise barely audible over your pulse.

The first text came later that night.

Are you seeing someone? it’d read.

Yes, you’d replied. But that doesn’t mean we can’t talk.

You’d quickly established ground rules: messages would only be exchanged after midnight, never two nights in a row, no calls, and — most importantly — Nathan would never find out.

Okay, Javi had said. Just one more rule: don’t use his name with me.

To your right, Nathan snores, the singular catch of an inhale in his throat, and the noise jolts you, face heating as if you’ve been caught.

Then he shifts, turns on his side, away from you. You feel a strange wash of relief. A semblance of privacy that you shouldn’t be after.

You respond to Javier with your tongue between your teeth.

You [2:04am]: thinking about me doing what?

Javi [2:06am]: Riding me. Your tits in my face. My hands on your ass.

Your breath catches, attention abruptly pulled to the incessant throbbing between your legs.

You definitely shouldn’t sneak to the bathroom and touch yourself. Shouldn’t send Javi a grainy photo of your fingers in your panties. Shouldn’t make yourself cum with your ex-lover’s name on your lips.

Not for the third time this week.

But when your cunt inadvertently clenches around nothing, your judgment is suddenly clouded.

With one last glance at the sleeping form beside you, you clamber to your feet and tiptoe down the hallway, wetness dripping down your thighs as you go.

The bathroom door closes with a quiet click. You fumble for the lightswitch, eyes reflexively squeezing shut when the room brightens.

You hover over the sink, steadying yourself against porcelain with one hand while you type furiously with the other.

You [2:10am]: yeah? you wanna suck on my tits?

The mirror parallel you reflects something out of a thriller, your pupils fully dilated and your forehead glistening with sweat. You almost don’t recognize the woman staring back at you in all her depravity.

You slump to the floor. Rest with your back to the side of the tub.

Javi [2:11am]: Dying to. Always felt so fucking perfect in my mouth.

Desperate fingers slip under the hem of your shorts, into your panties. The phone balances precariously in your other hand, thumb stumbling over buttons on the keypad.

You [2:12am]: I miss your cock.

Javi [2:13am]: That’s right, querida. Best you ever had, huh?

You [2:13am]: Yes. Always made me feel so fucking good.

Javi [2:15am]: Fuck. Are you touching yourself?

You swirl two digits at your entrance, amply coating them in your slick before dragging them up to your swollen clit. You can’t stifle the moan that slips past your lips.

You [2:16am]: yes

Javi [2:16am]: good girl

The phone distractedly tumbles from your grasp, clinking against tile as you begin to work yourself toward the brink.

And then — there’s a knock on the bathroom door.

The room spins, walls suddenly shrinking in on you as you wrench your hand out of your panties. Nathan’s voice on the other side is muffled, by the exhaust fan and by the ringing in your ears. But you can just decipher his words, his voice laden with sleep.

“Babe? Are you okay? I thought I heard-“

“Fine, I’m uh, I’m fine,” you say, scrambling to your feet, wiping wet fingers on your shorts.

The doorknob jostles, and it dawns on you then that you’d forgotten to fucking lock it.

“No! Don’t come in,” you sputter. The door hitches, less than an inch cracked. “I just had a stomach ache, but I’m okay now. I’ll be back in bed in a minute.”

“Oh.” He yawns. Pulls it shut again. “Okay.”

You brace yourself against the sink, struggling to slow your racing heart.

With a flush of the empty toilet, Nathan’s footsteps recede down the hall and out of earshot. You wash your hands, then, fingers shaking under the stream of lukewarm water.

You dry them hastily, not bothering to pick up the towel when it slides off the rail and onto the floor.

You [2:21am]: gotta go. sorry.

Javi [2:22am]: ???

Nathan is far too kind the following morning. He sets a plate of buttered toast and a mug of peppermint tea out for you on the kitchen table, and presses a nauseatingly gentle kiss to your forehead as you eat.

His amber eyes scan you like he’s searching for any indicators that you’re still hurting, fingers anxiously carding through his sandy hair.

You’re sure he’s clocked the dark circles marking your undereyes — not that he knows the real reason for them.

“I’m fine,” you promise when you feel him staring.

“Are you sure?” he probes. “The noise you made was…intense; you sounded really pained.”

Pained? Not exactly.

“I know.” You stuff the last bite of toast into your mouth. Tilt the empty plate toward him.

“But I’m okay; see? Even have an appetite this morning. It was just a weird bug or something.”

The lie burns on the way out, scalds your throat. But Nathan buys it. Doesn’t ask any further questions.

Still, he tells you to take it easy today on his way out the door.

You can’t look him in the eye when you insist that you will.

You call out of work, too sick with self-loathing to show your face in the office. Instead, you mope around all day, attempt to distract yourself with the overflowing hamper of laundry in the closet.

It’s futile though, your brain paralyzed by thoughts of Nathan finding out about the affair, and the clothes remain unwashed.

He returns that evening with a plastic bag in his clutch, the local pharmacy’s logo printed on the front.

“Here,” he says, pulling out a brand new heating pad. “I realized last night that we didn’t have one of these laying around.”

You know, at that moment, that you need to end things with Javi.

Nathan is good to you. He loves you with actions, not just words. Thinks of you before he thinks of himself, in every situation. And you — you’re cheating on him. Taking advantage of him. Not even trying to be what he deserves.

You’ll try harder. To love him, to think of him. No longer will you give in to brainless, animalistic needs. Surely, you can mimic the passion you have with someone else if you just try.

Try, try, try. You can do it.

Sleep evades you that night, coming in brief stints and leaving you breathless when you wake.

In those conscious moments, the analog clock in the corner of the room taunts you, glaring red neon making your head pound.

After three straight hours of tossing and turning, you decide it can’t wait any longer.

You fish your cellphone off the nightstand. Snap it open.

You [3:23am]: We need to end this before things get ugly.

You’re sure he won’t be awake this late; not without reason. But then — the screen blinks.

Javi [3:24am]: Nothing’s going to get ugly. Please, cariño.

You [3:24am]: I almost got caught last night. I don’t want to hurt him.

Javi [3:25am]: Can we talk about this? Javi [3:25am]: In person?

Your heart palpitates. For a moment, you swear it stops altogether.

You [3:26am]: What the hell? No Javi, I can’t.

Javi [3:27am]: C’mon. Just talk. Don’t you think you owe me that?

Your eyes flit to Nathan.

You watch him for a long moment: the steady rise and fall of his chest, the slouch of his shoulders, the gape of his mouth.

He’s well and truly asleep. You’re sure you could sneak away without him waking. Slip out the door and get a cab to Javier’s, talk things through, and be back in bed before the sun rises — before Nathan even knows you’ve left.

And then everything will be just as it was before you messed this up. You can leave Javi in the past, where he belongs.

Of course, you’re not just going to talk. Deep in your bones, you know that. Know that when he’s there in front of you, you’ll be too weak to resist any of his advances.

Still, you play coy. Ignore the spring of excitement tightening in your abdomen.

In a move of finality, one which you know you won’t be able to come back from, you stand. Make your way into your closet to pull some pants and a t-shirt on, your cell phone clutched in your hand.

You [3:30am]: Fine.

Javier sends you his address — as if you’d have forgotten it. As if the name of his apartment complex isn’t permanently etched behind your eyelids, along with the wide slope of his shoulders and the plush of his bottom lip.

When the cab pulls up to the curb, the driver is visibly concerned. His bushy, gray brows thread together and his narrowed eyes catch yours in the rearview more than once on the drive across town.

It’s only when you reach Javi’s building and hand over your fare that the man speaks.

“Are you alright, sweetheart? Quite late for you to be out on your own.”

His voice crackles, the smell of cigarette smoke heavy on his breath, and it’s strangely comforting.

“Yeah,” you promise as you push the door open and step out.

He rolls his window down, anxiously watching as you maneuver your way to the front door. And then he’s driving off, headlights vanishing into the thick night.

Javier lets you up on the first buzz. He’s waiting for you in the entryway of his apartment, leaning with a large hand pressed to the doorframe.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him: shirtless, bronze skin cast in the dim yellow light of the corridor.

His eyes rake over you the moment you’re in front of him, lingering when they catch on your collarbone, your breasts, your legs. He looks so imposing like this. You find yourself unable to move; frozen under his silent, lustful gaze.

“Are you — can I come in?” you ask meekly.

He nods then, a slow lift of his chin. Steps backward into darkness. You will yourself to take one step, and then another, following him over the threshold and past the point of no return.

It feels so odd to be here, in his space, with the intention of doing anything other than fucking. If you look close enough, you swear you can make out the shape of your body imprinted in the couch cushions, can hear lingering echoes of climaxes reached with your face shoved into one of his decorative pillows — can feel them, too.

Arousal pulls between your thighs. You ignore it.

You wonder how many other women have been here since you, have taken Javi in their hands or their mouths or their cunts. How many names that aren’t yours has he chanted in the throes of passion?

And — moreover — why do you care?

You don’t. You definitely don’t.

Javi pours you a glass of wine, fills a crystal with whiskey for himself. He flicks a lamp on, casting the room in an orange glow, and settles into the couch You follow his lead, perching yourself on one of the arm rests apprehensively.

“So,” you start. “About what we’ve been…doing-“

He cuts you off with a quirk of his brow, a flinch of his jaw.

“Javi,” you try again. “This has to — we can’t-”

“You’re sure you want to break it off, cariño?” His voice comes out low, dark.

And the thing is — you’re not sure. You wish you were, wish you had the strength to tell him definitively that it’s over, to go home to your boyfriend and block Javi’s number on the way out.

But the flex of his bicep when he hooks his arm behind his head, the knowing smirk playing on his lips, his cock — which you can’t see, but know is long and thick under his jeans — it all makes your head feel heavy.

You let the weight of it drop between your shoulders, hang there as you silently search for just a particle of sanity left in your being. You come up empty.

“Fuck,” you hiss, claw your fingers into your scalp. “This is — fuck.”

Leather groans under Javi’s weight. He stands. Steps in front of you.

You don’t dare look at him, not until he pinches your chin between two fingers and forces your gaze to meet his. His eyes are charcoal-black, something devious swimming behind blown pupils.

“Baby,” he croons. “Why did you really come here?”

You play dumb. “What do you mean? To — to talk.”

His thumb skates along the underside of your jaw, soft and placating.

“We’re not really gonna talk — are we?”

Your head spins, mind clouded by Javier’s words, his touch. You sense yourself losing resolve just as he pulls you upright by both hands.

You’re so close like this; can taste the whiskey on his breath, can feel the warmth of his exhale against your skin.

His mouth moves to the shell of your ear, voice a mere whisper when he speaks again.

“Wanna know what I think, querida?” he asks, palm flattening at your lower back, pushing you flush against him. “I think you came here because texting wasn’t enough anymore, huh? Think you missed me.”

And the truth is, you have missed him — painfully so. You’ve missed the timbre of his voice, the caress of his hands, the stretch of his cock. All just in reach, tangible for the first time in so long.

Your need for him borders on carnal. The feeling snakes its way up from your stomach into the cavern of your ribcage, splays its weight across your delicate, pounding heart.

And then the rational part of your brain whirs weakly to life.

What are you doing?

“I have a boyfriend,” you say. You’re not sure who you’re reminding.

“Mhm,” Javi mutters, deft fingers peeling the fabric of your t-shirt up, up, up your body. You don’t stop him.

“And does your boyfriend —“ he kneels down, presses a kiss where exposed skin meets denim — “make you feel as good as I do, cariño?”

You can’t answer that. It wouldn’t be right. Because any of this is.

“Javi — I,” you try, cut off abruptly by dull teeth in the flesh of your waist. You yelp, the sweet sting quickly dissipating as he pauses. Pulls back.

“You can say it,” he goads with a wicked smirk. “I won’t tell him.”

“He — no,” the words leave you before you even feel them in your mouth, and then you’re cursing yourself. You can’t take it back — it’s too late. Javi knows, you know. The only one still in the dark is Nathan.

Javier says your name. His tone is different, soberingly serious.

“Tell me to stop.”

Fuck.

“Tell me to stop,” he repeats, “and I’ll stop.”

“I can’t,” you whisper, so quiet you barely hear yourself.

“Cariño-”

“I can’t,” you stammer, louder. “I — fuck, Javi. Please.”

“Please?”

He knows what you’re asking for; he just needs to hear you say it.

“Please fuck me.”

In an instant, he’s standing back up, grasping at your sides and impatiently guiding you onto the couch. He brackets you against the cushions, one hand splayed next to your head on the backrest, the other popping the button of your jeans open.

You lift your ass as he tugs them down your legs, pulls them past your ankles and leaves them in a heap on the floor. And then he’s moving down your body, kneeling at your altar and prying you open for him.

You surrender to him willingly, desperation growing when he pulls your panties aside and gazes at your glistening sex, transfixed by you.

“This gorgeous pussy,” he hums, leaning down to taste you.

“Yeah?” you breathe. “You miss it?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he groans. Dips his tongue into the apex of your heat, refamiliarizing himself with your nectar before licking a languid stripe up to your throbbing clit.

You writhe under him, beg with wordless whines and whimpers for more. He knows your sounds, knows their tells, soothes you with a gentle shh against your cunt.

His lips wrap around your clit, then, envelope it completely as he starts to suckle, and the sudden sensation makes you buck your hips.

“Javi — fuck, oh — holy-”

He retreats, mouth shiny with your arousal. “What is it, baby? Your boyfriend doesn’t eat your pussy like this?”

“He doesn’t,” you admit breathlessly. Javi clicks his tongue. Faux-pouts at you.

His lips reattach to your clit and you curse.

“Fuck, Javi, he — he’s never-“

The half-admission stops him in his tracks. He stares back up at you with narrowed eyes.

“Cariño, don’t tell me he doesn’t go down on you?”

Your face heats. “He — he says he doesn’t like to do it.”

Suddenly, Javi looks livid.

His fingernails dig into the meat of your inner thighs mindlessly. You watch his lip twitch and his eyes roll to the ceiling.

He’s unaffected by much these days — but Javi clearly doesn’t take kindly to a man not pleasuring his woman. Especially when you are the woman in question.

“Pendejo,” he murmurs.

“Javi,” you whine. “Please.”

Your pleading voice seems to snap him out of it. Or at least remind him of the task at hand.

He returns his attention to your dripping pussy with one final huff. “Gonna take care of you baby, don’t worry.”

You anchor yourself with fingers of one hand twisted in the dark, sweaty curls at the crown of his head. Two digits on the other pinch at one of your hardened nipples, just as Javier begins to swipe his tongue back and forth over your clit.

“Fuck,” you sigh, draping your trembling legs over his shoulders.

He licks your cunt like he fears you’re going to melt, lathes over your clit again and again with the wide flat of his tongue. The wet squelch of him slurping at you, eager to catch every last drop of your arousal, bounces off the walls obscenely.

You hope, fleetingly, that his neighbors are heavy sleepers. Better yet, that they’re out of town.

Maybe he’s putting in extra effort because he knows now that your boyfriend isn’t doing this for you at home. Or maybe he’s just better at it than you remember. Regardless, you find yourself completely overcome with ecstasy, close to falling apart on Javi’s tongue in a matter of minutes.

As soon as he curls two fingers into your cunt, you’re gone, cumming so hard your vision pulls and your thighs shake.

You sing Javi’s name like a hymn. It rolls off your tongue effortlessly, naturally. Like it’s made for you to recite.

He lets you come down, soothes you with gentle hands stroking along your thighs, soft lips pressed to your sensitive mound.

When your breathing evens, he lifts off of his haunches, motions for you to lay flat on the couch with your neck supported by the armrest. And then he shucks his pants off, his cock immediately springing up to his stomach, a trail of precum dripping down his navel.

You’d forgotten how gorgeous it was — the heady, pink tip shiny with arousal, veins running along the underside of the thick base prominent. It twitches in interest as Javier leans down to kiss you, prods against your slick inner thigh when his tongue presses into yours.

You hook your legs around his back, desperately attempting to pull him closer, attempting to drag him into your achingly empty cunt.

He grins against your lips, hand moving between your bodies to guide himself to your entrance.

“Impaciente,” he mumbles.

You whine, nails digging into his shoulders. “Please Javi, need it.”

“Yeah?” He pauses with his cockhead right at your seam. “How bad?”

“Fuck — so bad, need it so bad.” Your nails burrow deeper into flesh. He hisses.

“God damn, querida; that much, huh?”

“Yes, Javi,” you groan. “Please just-”

He bottoms out in one deep thrust, effectively knocking the air out of your lungs. You moan in unison, his head falling against your shoulder as he slowly begins to move.

Your cunt sucks him in greedily, clenching around him over and over again. It’s intoxicating, the feeling of his cock nudging your g-spot with every roll of his hips. You wonder how you went so long without this. Fear you won’t be able to again.

He pulls all the way out and snaps into you before setting a new, brutal pace, one that leaves you babbling underneath him.

The room grows palpably warmer, white heat licking at your neck, your chest, your back — where it sticks to leather. You find yourself lost in the way your bodies move together; a dance you’ve done so many times before; one you’d perfected all those months ago.

“Shit,” Javi slurs. “Take me so well, cariño. Like you’re — ahh — made for me.”

I am, you want to say.

“Fuck,” you moan instead, “so good, baby. Feels so fucking good.”

And it does. You’re going to snap soon, going to cum for a second time, soak his cock.

You tighten around him, a silent warning. He slips out and you whine at the loss. But then he’s hiking your legs over his shoulders, spreading you wider for him and delving back in at a new angle that makes you scream.

You can feel it building now, like a snowball in your abdomen. You can’t fight it, can barely warn Javi, his name spilling brokenly from your throat as your orgasm crests.

He talks you through it with praises whispered in your ear. So beautiful, princesa — that’s it. So pretty when you fall apart on my cock. There you go; let it all out, baby.

Fucked-out and boneless, you beg for Javi to please cum inside.

He growls, low and primal, gripping tightly to the flesh of your waist as his thrusts begin to falter. “That what you want, querida? Want to — shit — want to go back to your boyfriend with me dripping out of you?”

“Yes,” you chant thoughtlessly, yes, yes, yes.

“Dirty. Fucking. Girl.” he grits, each word punctuated by a jerk of his hips.

He spills inside you with his teeth in the crook of your neck. There’s so much of it, filling your cunt, leaking out around his cock and onto leather. It sates you in a way you didn’t know possible, as if your womb needs to be claimed by him and only him. Nobody else will do.

You almost resent the feeling of your eyesight returning and your breaths steadying. You don’t want to come down — not if it means you need to go home.

But the sky outside is turning purple, bruising with the threat of a new day on the horizon, and you know your time together is nearly up.

“Javi,” you mutter, his chest still heaving against yours, cock softening inside you.

“Up.”

He shifts, pulls out in a devastating loss, and retreats to the opposite side of the couch.

You begin to knead the muscles in your aching calves, Javi fumbling with the pack of cigarettes on the side table next to him. He takes one out and lights it, the end glowing faintly.

“What do we do?” you ask. He rubs at the crease in his forehead, definitely set there by years of chasing after drug cartels. Maybe also by running away from meaningful conversation with you.

“You can’t go back to him,” he mumbles.

You scoff. “I can’t? I have to Javi, Nathan is my-“

“Don’t say his name,” he snaps, abruptly ashing his cigarette and turning to face you. He looks wrecked, his eyes wide and his lips downturned.

“What do you want from me, Javi?” you bite, pulling your panties back into place and reaching for your jeans where they lay on the floor. “You want me to be at your beck and call forever? Cheat on him until one of us dies?”

“I —“ Javi sighs. “No.”

“Then what?” You pull your pants on: one leg, then the other. Pull your shirt back down to cover your breasts.

“I — want you.”

You nearly choke on your own saliva.

“What?”

“All of you,” he clarifies. “When I saw you with him for the first time in that grocery store — my heart sank. I didn’t — didn't realize how serious my feelings were for you. Fuck, I shouldn’t have let you end things that day.”

He stands. Braces pleading hands on your shoulders.

“I know I’m an asshole,” he continues. “I thought I could never be someone’s partner. That I wouldn’t…wouldn’t be good. How could I be when I’ve done so much bad in my life?”

You sink into his touch. His words.

“Javi-“

“No, cariño — I need you to hear this. I want to be good for you, know I can be. I’ll do anything. I just — I can’t let you get away again.”

You feel as if you’ve just been struck by an arrow. Or, more accurately, a train. Your bones hurt and your insides twist.

You’re silent for a long moment, watching as his eyes desperately search yours. You know you need to say something eventually, put him out of his misery, but you’re too afraid to find out what happens next.

The undeniable fact that you want to be with him too is almost too much to bear. You’ll have to break it off with Nathan, split his heart in half. He doesn’t deserve it, you think, over and over.

But then, maybe you don’t deserve to remain unhappy. Unfulfilled.

Maybe you need to hurt him once in order to stop repeatedly hurting yourself.

“You’re good, Javier,” you say then. “You’re a good man. You deserve good.”

“Yeah?” his voice cracks. Tears prick in the corners of his eyes. He retracts them with a deep breath in.

You grab the sides of his face. “Yes. And I — I want you too.”

Javier kisses you, so deep you think your lips might bruise. There’s finality in it — you’re his and he’s yours — and no longer will you pretend that’s not the case.

He drives you back to your place, unwilling to let his girl get in another cab alone before daylight.

Laredo looks beautiful at dawn, all dozing buildings and empty roads. You pass by your workplace and groan at the realization that you’ll have to be back there in a few hours; you can’t call out again. A stack of unfiled reports will surely be waiting for you atop your desk.

That dread doesn’t last long, though, not when you look to the man in the driver’s seat, the one who makes your mouth water and your heart skip.

When he catches your gaze, corner of his mouth turning up at you mischievously, you know for certain that everything will work out just fine.

Javi turns onto your street slowly, moreso than he needs to, a possessive hand gripping your thigh.

“Will you let me know how it goes?” he asks when the car pulls up to the curb.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I mean, I think it’s safe to say it won’t go well, but-“

“I know. But if he gives you any more trouble than he needs to, you call me.”

Your eyes flit up to your bedroom window, blinds drawn up and curtains pulled aside. The room is still dark, Nathan no doubt still asleep.

You’ll go up in a second. After you kiss Javier one more time.

He seems taken aback when your lips catch his, maybe because it’s crazy to do this here, now. But you can’t help it. Can’t keep your hands — or your mouth — off of him now that you have him.

He relaxes into it after just a second, licking into your mouth to deepen the kiss, his hand moving from your thigh to the back of your head to hold you against him.

And then — he abruptly pulls away.

“Shit,” he curses, staring wide-eyed at the window.

You follow his eyeline, freezing when you see what he sees: Nathan, tall and shadowy, looking straight at you.

“Well,” Javi laughs nervously, “I think he knows.”

end notes: ty so much for reading! pls consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment if you enjoyed :)

tag list: @janaispunk @kajashe @amanitacowboy @planet-marz1 @littlegrungegirlaf @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @wethairjoel @catchallfangirl @pamasaur

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x f!reader #narcos fanfiction #javier peña x you #narcos fic #javier peña narcos #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal as javier peña #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #javier peña smut #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier pena x you #javier pena smut

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talaok · 10 days

Note

Okay so I’m thinking Pedro x Actress!reader where another famous guy/actor says in an interview that he has a crush on us which makes Pedro a bit jealous and then we all end up at the same event - maybe Pedro gets abit angsty with him but he’s super loving and affectionate toward us…

warnings: jelousy

a/n: it goes without saying that i apologize for the wait babe, i really loved this request

It wasn't that he hated him, it was just that if anything were to happen to him he wouldn't be the one to cry, that's all...

and maybe he'd thought about punching that smug look off his face one... or twice... or every time the thought of him came up.

But it still wasn't hate

Hate is a strong word, and Pedro wasn't not one to throw it around easily, he was all for peace and love and everything but this guy... this guy was really pushing the limits

And what the actual fuck was he even doing here tonight?

"You're staring"

Your soft, amused voice pulled him out of his own thoughts, his eyes sliding to you

"I just don't get why he's here"

You stifled a laugh as you answered "The same reason why we are baby"

"he's not even nominated" he grumbled,

"neither am I" You smiled, placing your hand on his cheek, feeling his soft scruff graze your palm "It's not a big deal babe, he probably said my name just because it was the first one that popped into his mind" you shook your head "I bet it's not even true"

Yeah right

He would have believed that if you were anybody else, but you... fuck- it didn't take him even a second to fall in love and you expected him to believe that that guy didn't have a crush on you? He would have sooner begun believing that Mark Zuckerberg was one of those lizard guys.

You were everything anyone could have ever dreamed of, you were funny, so incredibly smart it made him feel like a fifth grader in comparison, and god you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen

he knew what you did to men, he knew what you did to men because that's exactly what you did to him,

and he didn't even mind that much, he'd never been the jealous type, but the problem with Shawn wasn't that he liked you (because he clearly did), but it was that he had the audacity, the smugness to fucking say it out loud, to admit it in front of a camera for anyone to see, like the woman he was talking about didn't have a husband, like he wasn't her fucking husband.

"I saw him look at you before"

This time, you did let out a little snort

"what, how dares he?" you mocked him, laughing again as his face remained completely unamused "It's your big night babe, don't let this silly little thing ruin it, please"

But just then, just when he was finally starting to let go a little, the focus of all of his loathing appeared beside you

"I'm sorry to interrupt-"

Then fucking don't

"I just wanted to introduce myself"

Shawn's eyes were only on you, as if he didn't even exist, as if your hands hadn't been on his cheeks but a moment prior

"I'm Shawn," he said, offering his hand to you "I'm... well, I'm a really big fan" he ended with a soft laugh, smiling in that charming way that surely made women all woozy

"Hi Shawn, it's a pleasure to meet you-"

As you shook his hand, Pedro was closing his into fists

This fucking guy-

"Hi pal"

Pedro's voice didn't sound even a little bit not completely pissed off

"I'm Pedro," he said "her husband"

The flicker of amusement that sparked behind his eyes made Pedro seriously ponder whether or not a little punch was that bad of an idea

"Oh, I didn't know you were married"

Andrew's eyes were back to you, and god it was taking all of Pedro not to grab him and throw him to the other side of the room

Just the fact that he was looking your way seemed too much,

How dare he look at you, at his beautiful wife, at the love of his life?

It felt wrong, it was wrong, and it was making him furious

"I'm sure you didn't" Pedro grunted, taking a slow step closer to him "Shawn right?" he asked, even though he knew much too well who he was "What exactly are you doing here?" Pedro's eyes narrowed, his head tilting "I didn't notice your name in any of the nominations"

"baby" your soft warning was met with a soft smile from him, one that faded into a stoic/murderous gaze as soon as your husband's eyes were back on the man before him

"I'm just asking a question sweetheart, that's all"

Shawn seemed to accept Pedro's challenge in the blink of an eye

"I'm here with a friend, he's the one that got the nom"

Pedro nodded slowly, "ah. Right," he said, his hand going to your back and drawing gentle circles on it

He didn't miss the way Shawn followed the movement

"And why exactly are you talking to my wife Shawn?"

Now that, that seemed to take him aback a little, but he recovered quickly

"What?" he laughed "is no one allowed to talk to your wife without your permission or something?"

"Oh absolutely not, my wife can talk to whomever she wishes," Pedro spoke "I'm just not very fond of her talking to men that have openly admitted to liking her" he shrugged as if his eyes and voice weren't yelling murder

You, in the meantime, were busy looking for the fastest way out of this place

"You've seen the video," Shawn said more like a statement

"I sure did" Your husband nodded "I especially liked the part where you described her as your "dream woman""

Shawn sighed loudly, shaking his head

"listen, man-"

"No, you listen, man" Pedro interrupted him "How 'bout you get the fuck away from me and my wife, mh?" he said more like a threat "How bout that?"

Shawn let out a loud breath before responding

"whatever man" he sighed, his eyes moving to you "It was nice to meet you y/n, maybe we can meet another time..." he glanced to the man on your right "when the guard dog isn't around"

"yeah" Pedro scoffed "Go fuck yourself, buddy"

You both stared at his back as he walked away, but after no more than two seconds, you couldn't help but let your lips pull into the smile you'd been holding this whole time

"that was a bit harsh"

Pedro only grinned as he brought you flash against him with his hands on your waist

"Like you haven't done worse" he smirked

Yeah... while Pedro wasn't usually jealous, you were... let's just say you were not exactly on the same wavelength

"you looked ready to kill him" you chuckled, wrapping your arms behind his neck

"mh" he hummed, ghosting your mouth "Who says I wasn't" he teased, his lips crashing with yours in a long, deep kiss that Pedro absolutely didn't wish for Shawn to be witnessing

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sp00kymulderr · 15 days

Text

closer to light

Javier Peña x f!reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+. pwp, truly no plot. sleepy spooning sex, thigh riding/grinding, dry humping, handjob, cum play, the tiniest hint of a breeding kink, pet names and fem coded language for reader throughout. Unedited.

Words: 1300~

Summary: Javi can't help waking you up in the middle of the night

He’s been awake for hours. Never sleeps even with you there. His mind thrums with the what, the when, the why only worsened by the silence of night and blanket of darkness.

It’s easier when you’re in his bed; Javi can get lost in those soft long breaths you take as you sleep. His body responding to yours; warmth upon warmth, heart upon heart. The presence of you stirs better feelings in him, the kind that make him wide awake for easier reasons. The twitch of him when you push back in your sleep, ass rubbing against his half hard cock which is waking up even more rapidly than him, even when it’s 3 in the morning.

His lips find their path across your back and to your shoulder before he even realises it, it’s a trail he’s committed to memory by now. Large hands grasping the meat of your hip, keeping you pulled back against him. You’ve said it before ‘take me as you want me, Javi’ but still he lets out a held breath when you stir and murmur, eyes fluttering open as his lips make contact with your neck and nip ever so. He likes you asleep, all sighs and softest breaths, but he loves you on the cusp of awake even more - soft and pliant and so sweetly giving.

“Mm…Javi…” You moan a sweet little sound out, pushing back slowly but more purposefully and his cock stiffens more, aching throb of it rutting gently against your backside now.

“Shh. I’ve got you baby” Javier murmurs as his lips skim your warming skin, delving to that precious place where your shoulder meets your neck. Always makes you shudder when his mustache tickles there and this time is no different even with your eyes still closed, barely out of your dreamworld.

Fuck, your scent as he breathes you in is intoxicating. Makes him forget everything except you, every time. It makes his hard-on throb almost painfully so he’s pushing harder against you.

“Feel what you do to me, angel? Even when you’re sleeping…prettiest little thing in the world for me” He whispers low in your ear, deep rumble of a voice vibrating down to your core. Oh god, you whimper and tremble as you struggle to piece together the real world and your dreams. Is it your Javier, manhandling your thighs open, slotting his own thick one between them? Or is that your dream Javier, pulsing against you as his fingers trace the front of your underwear? Whichever it is you know even in your state of reverie you’re warm and wet and ready for him, as always, cunt fluttering in anticipation.

His hardness grinds desperately against your ass now, as his fingers delve into your underwear and find you slick. The groan he lets out is sinful, hot breath against your ear making you mewl in want

“Fuck” Javi grunts, planting kiss after kiss across the expanse of your shoulders and upper back, thick finger swiping across your clit to feel it twitching.

“Woke her up, didn’t I baby? Woke that pretty pussy right up”

Your body shivers in pleasure at his words, a rush of heat coiling tight in you as his fingers swirl circles over your sensitive clit. Your lids are heavy with sleep, still recovering from the sudden awakening, but he’s right, the rest of you is wide awake and burning for him.

“Y-yeah” You sob needily, arching your back so your ass is pushed further against him now as he continues to rut.

“Please, Javi. Need you. Need it…” Your whine makes his heart thrum with desire, with love, with want beyond anything. He only sees you, only feels you, only cares about you.

“Shh, shh, pretty girl” He whispers back, lips and teeth against the shell of your ear still. He uses his big hand to tilt your hips, adjust your position just so, and then he’s flexing his thigh and…oh…a spark lights inside you as he holds you by the hip and encourages you to move them.

“Woke me up, just to tease me” You’re all pouts and sighs, tilting your head to look up at him.

“Oh, poor thing” Javi laughs softly. His hands guide your hips to keep moving, his dark eyes gazing lovingly up into your still-sleepy ones. The roughness of the fabric of your underwear plus the flexing, muscular expanse of his thigh beneath continually catching your clit makes you gasp softly, and then louder and louder.

“Come on angel, get yourself off on me. You can do it, just for me”

Your mouth hangs open, eyes closed as you focus in on the two simultaneous feelings; his erection still pushing hard against your ass every time you move back, and the grind of your pussy against his leg. You’re a vision to him. A beautiful thing, angel come to rid him of his fears and worries. Fallen, just how he likes it.

“That's it, like that. Good girl” He encourages your every move, sinful and rough voice vibrating against your back as he nips at the back of your neck.

You breathe his name in beautiful sighs, he says yours like worship. The quiet of night interrupted by two people falling apart together, pieces to be picked when the sun rises.

You are the first to tumble, Javi makes sure of that. Your body tenses, a muffled wail into your pillow as he keeps you moving, makes sure you feel him all the way through your orgasm. He mutters filthy praise in your ear, as you soak through your panties, slick wet covering his thigh.

“Fuck, there it is. Perfect” He coos, fingers gripping your jaw to turn your head towards him, see those beautiful eyes look back at him, your fucked-out, tired expression is his favourite thing in the world right now. The only thing in the world.

“Mm” You sigh in to his mouth as his kisses you, taking your hand in his at the same time and bringing it down to his cock. So hard for you. Impossible not to want you, every moment you’re in his life. The brightest thing to ever grace him.

He guides your hand on his leaking length, slicking it up and wrapping your fingers around him, his hand around yours. He knows you're tired, he doesn’t mind helping you out. It won’t take long anyone, he’s already brought to the edge by the effects of feeling you fall apart on him.

When he comes, it’s with the rough kind of grunt that flickers new heat within you, lips finding yours as he spills on to your fingers, on to the sheets. Javi rests his forehead against your shoulder and moans, kissing your warm skin again. You feel the weak groan of your name and it makes you tremble.

All goes quiet apart from his heavy breaths for just a moment before you realise he’s taking your hand which is sticky with his warm spend, guiding it between your legs.

“Don’t wanna waste it, angel” He mumbles sleepily, encouraging your cum soaked fingers into your panties and the push of them against your entrance. Your lids are heavy too, but you don’t deny him, fingering his load into yourself with a lewd squelch that makes him moan again.

“Good girl” you hear him say, as he brings a strong arm over you and pulls you flush against his chest once more.

His breathing calms after a moment, a fresh sense of peace washing over him now. He’s always so tranquil in the moments after - the heady satisfaction saturating the air, blanketing you both in comfort. His mind is empty enough now, nothing but thoughts of you running through it, that he’ll sleep for a few hours.

You’re sure to be woken up again by him in the morning. You don’t mind one bit.

#javier pena x reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x you #pedrostories #this is trash lmao don't look at me I still can't write properly

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undercoverpena · 1 month

Text

going to make you sweat

javier peña x f!reader | main masterlist

summary: it's the hottest day of the year; you and javi want to make it hotter.

rating: 18+/explicit warnings: explicit smut. somewhat established relationship. jo's spelling, jo putting to practice her spanish. wordcount: 1.9k

It begins with the sound of the fan.

Whirring. Whirring. Blowing nothing but warm, sticky heat around the over-boiled place.

For four days, the sun has been beating down relentlessly, acting as another unforgiving tyrant ruling over Colombia, forcing waves of heat to seep into homes, regardless of whether doors and windows are closed.

All but forcing everyone to seek refuge from the scorching onslaught.

It's why he's home.

It's why you didn't protest when his hand found your lower back, guiding you out to the passenger seat of his vehicle.

The unspoken understanding between you both fizzes in the air. All silence, discreet.

Just like the rest of the clandestine nature of your relationship.

Now, you’re lying as still as possible. Not even considering sliding your leg over to touch his—even if usually, you’d have done it a handful of times.

Cool showers offered no relief—your skin was already slick with dampness before you finished drying off. Every movement made the heat feel unbearable, trickling down your neck. Your limited attire, stuffed in a spare drawer at his, offers no relief; the white tee and panties cling to your skin, feeling like additional layers you long to peel away from your bones, not just your skin.

Your eyes flick towards him at the sound of his lighter—at the paper burning at the end, before the scent greets your nostrils.

Normally, it would barely irritate you, but now it twists your annoyance into a knot and uses it to fuel its fury. A glare not forcing him to stub it out, your mood souring, further making beads of perspiration collect along your collarbone and drip down the valley of your breasts, all but pooling where your body bends and creases as you remain on the sofa.

You can feel him watching.

Eyes likely following the path of sweat descending under your top—because even in unbelievable temperatures, you’re sure he’s mentally undressing you.

Because he looks wrecked, even with the cigarette burning between his fingers/.

Javier Peña's usually put-together look of swept-to-the-side hair is currently stuck damp to his forehead as sweat drips off the end of his sloped nose. The look is so reminiscent of what you’d imagine he'd look like if he had a full free day to fuck you; if it wasn’t rushed quickies or long, drawn-out nights before the two of you collapsed into sheets before doing it all over again on three hours of sleep.

At some point between coming home early and sitting beside you, his barely buttoned shirt has been discarded, leaving him in a pair of shorts he’d pulled on when he’d been grumbling about the fucking heat, paperwork and bureaucracy all in the space of a minute.

The fact he'd shed most of his layers allows you to trace your eyes down his body. Glance at the soft curve of his stomach, the firmness of his chest and those biceps you see flex when he’s leaning when he’s doing all he can not to flick his eyes from your face to your tits.

He's already caught you.

Taking a drag on his cigarette for a suspiciously long time before blowing the smoke out in one smooth movement. Eyes on you. Fixed. Never unfocused.

And fuck, if it doesn’t make you want him that much more.

“It’s too hot.”

“I said nothing.”

You snort. Loud. Full of intent.

Mind a scrambled mess of want, as your hips shift when your eyes flick south of his neck and land on his thighs.

“C’mon, Cariño,” he drawls, stubbing out his cigarette—punching the lit end out until it’s snuffed, “Come sit on my lap.”

A battle ensures in your skull. It’s weak, both the for and against, which is how you find yourself straddling him, palm flat to your thighs—finding the heat from his body no more intense than the sweltering environment around you.

“This what you want, me all sweaty on you?”

He chews his cheek, a glint in the dark of his eyes, a blip in the pool of desire—and your heart pounds in your chest. Breaths coming in short gasps, matching the rhythm of the fan in the corner.

"I'd have you on top of me however I can."

"Course you would," you retort.

His fingers flex, itch. Sneak in inches up your skin as he continues to breathe slowly, in and out, out and in.

You’re not sure who moves first, but your lips find his—passionate, fiery. Teeth almost grazing but your tongue slides in and licks past his teeth, swallowing his moan, his hiss, as you roll your clothed pussy over his hardening cock, tasting nothing but smoke, coffee and mint, a combination you know to be him.

“Mm—fuck,” he groans.

He sounds pained when he drags his mouth from yours, his fist full of the back of your sweat-soaked tee as he drags it off over your head—throwing it, it landing on the tiles with a wet slap, forcing your head to snap to the sound.

But he’s on you.

Mouth latching to your nipple, tongue swirling, before tracing a line up your breast and across your collarbone.

“Taste so fucking good, cariño.”

It’s stifled, the moan—forcing your best smirk to show, “Put your head between my thighs and say that, Peña.”

And he considers it.

Your words.

Head tilting marginally, the slightest of movements that he’ll pretend never occurred. But he moves, shifts. Practically bucks his hips into you as he repositions, and you land on your bare back on the sofa with an oomph.

A comment arrives on your tongue, almost fizzling before it’s swallowed at the way forces your knees together and yanks your panties down your thighs. Soaked, ruined—both from the mere existence of him and the heat. Discarding them, throws them into some dark space as he glances down at the place between your thighs.

“Even in this heat, she’s pretty.”

You try not to turn away, bury your face in the smoked-scented cushions of his sofa as his words meet you. A sudden desire to hide, to cover—

“You not like that, cariño, when I call her pretty?” His knuckles part your folds, teasing, dragging them up and down as you squirm, whine his name. “Tell me.”

Somehow, all fucking unknown to you, more heat floods your cheeks. It's embroiled in embarrassment, shyness—two things you’re sure he spends most of his time trying to fuck out of you, but has failed to do so thus far—

He says your name.

Not your nickname. Not agent.

Eyes snapping to him, throat dry as he continues to tease, as his thumb presses on your clit and makes you hiss.

“No—ffff-feel embarrassed, alright? Fuck.”

You hear his tongue click—it’s the last thing you hear before ringing. Before two fingers slide into you, slide with ease as they delve deep, his frame coming over your body as he moves them, as he curls them. Doing his best to undo as his eyes come into focus, the top of his tongue dragging over his parted lips.

And the ringing dies down.

Forced to as a pebble of sweat falls from his nose and drips to your breastbone.

“No need to be embarrassed with me.”

Your hips try to buck and seek.

“Impaciencia,” he groans—moisture glistening at the base of his throat, palm keeping you down, still, fingers curled inside of you as you gasp. “You’re… fuck. I need to taste you.”

The breath of his words sweeps over your inner thigh.

“Javi, don't tease—“

“I’ve got you, cariño—don’t worry. I’ll make you come again, and again, and…”

You’re not sure if he speaks the last again—or if it’s buried into your pussy. A high chance you blank it out with other noises as his tongue fucks into your hole. Finger on your clit, swirling, drawing shapes your brain can’t manifest or conjure as you become aware of your moans.

Out of instinct, your fingers find his hair—slick with sweat, trying to curl between your fingers as his tongue flattens. All precise, taunting. Forcing you to the edge and dangling you before pulling you back.

It almost makes you thrash, forcibly lift your hips against him when his face lifts—face slick with your want as he smirks.

“Lo sé, cariño.”

“Please.”

It leaves your lips undignified, dignity gone, transformed into more raw, desperate—a plea that cuts through heat. One answered as he lifts your knee over his hip, feeling bare skin, red hot body heat and the nudging of his cock at your entrance.

He steals your breath, it stammering as he sinks into you in one fluid movement. Your fingers grasp, finding the hair at the nape of his neck again as his mouth comes to your ear, hearing it, the hiss between clenched teeth.

When he moves, your lips find his. It’s different, softer and almost gentle. All measured movements gone, lost, thrown out when you breathe him in, when your mouths are open, moaning into each other's throats as your heels dig into his lower back.

And you want to hold on.

But he’s driven you mad. Teeth grating over his shoulder as you tug on his hair. Tasting it, sweat, sex and salt. Your neck further coated in the slick of the heat, the moment; perspiration trickling, sliding over your skin as his hand grasps your hip firmly. Tightly. Practically noticing the hints of intimacy the two of you pretend aren’t there, but rumble and thrum whenever the two of you are alone.

And the thought adds to the feeling of that impending wave rising inside of you again, more angry, needy than it had been before—

“So good for me, cariño. My good girl.”

“Yours.”

It snakes out, too late to retract. Not even caring that it’s there, staining the space between you both, polluting it. Because it’s the truth.

Some days the only thing you can full on believe—

“Yeah, that’s it. Mine, right? All fucking mine?“

His hips thrust into you harder, matching the tone that makes you even wetter than you were seconds before.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

“Yes. Yes. Ye—”

“Fuck, cariño.”

You‘re close. So close. It almost blinding in the way it tries to force your eyes to clench shut, but you can't look away. Not from him. Each flex of his muscles, the way his teeth grit as he fucks into you, makes your body both taut and boneless.

“Wanna feel you, cariño,” he groans, breath ragged, tortured out. “Let me feel you come, baby. Please.”

Tightening around him, fingers jerking on his hair, he meets your eyes.

Not able to fight it, not able to stop it from unravelling as it begins to crest—

"Let me feel you come, baby. Please." His tone all full of gravel, insistent, demanding. Practically unwilling to bend as it brushes itself into your ear.

His name cracks out of your throat like thunder, slamming against the walls as it rips through you. Making your back arch into him, hearing him groan; hearing him hiss and fucking moan as you shake, thighs quaking around his sweat-tinged skin before he grunts as he spills into you.

It’s silence, except for heaving breaths.

The dull noise of the fan comes back to you, replacing the ringing from before as you slowly peel your legs from his body.

You’re not sure what you expect when he lifts his head, but it isn’t the look there. The one matched with a smile, sly but still a smile—chest rising and falling as he kneels, staring down at you.

Taking you in, flicking his eyes to the place the two of you had just been conjoined.

“Fucking hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

And even if you roll your eyes, you hide a smile behind the back of your hand, whispering a "Cállate, Peña."

#javier pena x reader #javi peña x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x you #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña smut #javier pena smut #javi peña smut #narcos x reader

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janaispunk · 16 days

Text

glitch

pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

word count: ~1k

summary: Prequel to nights are so starry, blood moonlit. How you and Javi became neighbors with benefits.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), smoking, alcohol consumption, able-bodied reader, a hint of dom!Javi, unprotected p in v, kinda rough sex, ass slaps, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), Javi is a menace, a hint of angst and feelings because of who i am as a person

a/n: written for @iamasaddie’s writing challenge 2.0 with the prompt "never knew you were such a freak", and since my first story about these two was also part of one of aly's writing challenges, it just made sense to revisit them :)

dividers as always by @saradika-graphics <3

find my full masterlist here and follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates!

It had started out with fleeting glances in the hallway, quick greetings when your apartment doors opened at the same time, then short conversations on your adjoining balconies, late night talks with your feet propped up on the railing and his back leaning against it, sometimes exchanging a cigarette or a light, or occasionally a bottle of beer when one of you had run out.

Of course you noticed the ridiculously tight jeans that really shouldn't look that good on him, the way his broad shoulders strained against his clothes, and the way his shirts always revealed a little too much of his golden-skinned chest. You couldn't deny the fact that your neighbor was incredibly attractive, and that he knew it.

You probably should have said no when late one evening, after Javi had found you on your balcony, smoking and watching the glistening city lights, he invited you to share a glass of bourbon. Together. At his place.

He had been flirting with you, which you suspected he did with every woman he met, and you had tried not to pay it any mind, but you were well aware of how this evening would end if you accepted.

You should have said no, and a stronger, less lonely version of you might have, but you craved human contact, craved to be touched by someone else than yourself, and if the sounds that traveled through the thin walls from his bedroom to yours frequently enough were any indication, Javi knew what he was doing.

You should have said no, because it became clear to you very quickly that Javier Peña would ruin you for all other men.

He was more gentle, more caring than you had expected him to be and he prioritized your pleasure in a way that you had never experienced from any man before. He took you to heights that you hadn’t thought possible before, and it was addicting.

You should have said no, but you hadn’t, and now you keep coming back for more.

You keep coming back for the way his skin tastes under your tongue, for the way his lips press against yours, swallowing moans and whimpers, for the way his fingers and his cock reach so deep inside of you that you still feel him hours later, when you have said your good nights and crawled under the covers of your own bed. Never his, never crossing the line to a different kind of intimacy.

It’s another one of those nights, a soft knock on a door, a mutual understanding passing between you, gentle touches that burned under your skin until they got more demanding, until you both gave in to that pull that kept you coming back.

He’s already made you come on his tongue twice, until you were dripping onto his sheets, his name the only word in your mind and on your lips. You’re on your hands and knees, limbs shaking, trying to accommodate his length and the harsh rhythm that he’s setting.

“Taking me so fucking well,” he pants, running his hands down your back and over your ass. You chase his touch, goosebumps forming in its wake, your moans filling the air as he keeps hitting impossibly deep inside of you.

His palm connects with your skin, nothing more than a playful swat, but the sensation sears through you, lighting your nerve endings on fire as you all but scream your pleasure into the softly lit bedroom.

“Oh?” His voice is low, rough in his throat. You don’t need to turn your head and look behind you to know that he’s smirking down at you right now. “You liked that, huh?”

You nod eagerly, too far gone to be ashamed of the way your hips are bucking back against him, working desperately to feel him deeper inside of you.

He slaps you again, harder this time, and you feel yourself clenching around him, feel the way a new wave of slick is coating his cock. His fingers dig into your shoulder and he pulls you up, until your torso is pressed against his, his mouth moving against the delicate skin of your neck.

“Never knew you were such a freak, baby,” he whispers, his lips curling into a grin, teeth nipping at you.

“Shut up.” You try to hold your voice steady, ignore the throbbing need between your thighs, but he just chuckles and presses another kiss against the side of your throat before he loosens his hold and pushes you back towards the mattress.

His hands grab your hips instead, pulling you into his thrusts, filling you so deeply that you see stars behind your eyelids.

“You want me to do it again?” You hate how smug he sounds, would love to deny him the satisfaction, but god, you do want him to.

“Fuck– please, Javi.” You’re breathless, reduced to a mess of trembling thighs and desperate whimpers, and you wish that you could stay like this forever.

He slaps your ass twice in quick succession and deepens his thrusts at the same time, punching all air from your lungs. His hand snakes down to graze your clit and you’re overwhelmed with sensations, pure pleasure coursing through your veins so suddenly that it’s almost disorienting. You collapse onto the sheets, your pussy pulsing around him as your body shakes through its third orgasm of the night and you’re whimpering his name as he buries himself deep inside of you and comes with a groan, painting your insides with his release.

After more kisses, more touches, and a shared cigarette, you get dressed and eventually, his apartment door clicks shut behind you. You lean your back against the wall, closing your eyes and breathing deeply for a moment before you enter your own place.

Again, you know that you’ll be coming back for more. And that no matter how many times you come back, it will never be enough.

thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!

#writing challenge 2.0 #janas fics #fic: glitch #javier peña #narcos #narcos fanfiction #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena smut #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x female reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrostories

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spacecowboyhotch · 1 year

Text

Blue Scoops: Chapter 3

summary: sometimes others are the only ones who can see our purpose.

pairing: eventual f!reader x javier peña, chucho peña

contents: 18+/nsfw/minors dni, food mention, depression, grief, brief mentions of drugs/substance abuse

WC: 2.2k

AN: happy blue scoops day! (yes im early but i was just too excited). thank you thank you for the patient wait for this chapter. as the end of the semester approaches I'm hoping to be able to stick to posting a new chapter every 10th of the month as ended but i appreciate everyone's understanding. we are a bit farther away from blue and javi meeting than i anticipated, but as i was writing this chapter, the importance of blue and chucho's bond really stood out to me. her allowing chucho into her heart is what makes her relationship with javi possible and its important to take time to develop it.

chapter 2 | series masterlist | misc. masterlist

You’ve memorized every single word of the business card that Chucho’s given you. You’ve traced the letters of his name and ran your finger over the shiny golden cow silhouette that sits above his name.

Chucho Peña. Little Cattle Farm. 956-458-2384.

Your hand has hovered over the landline more times than you can remember. You aren’t sure of the reason for your hesitation– you crave that warm feeling you had when Chucho sat in your kitchen, smiling and talking as if he had no better place to be. And he’d made it clear that you’re welcome to call him at any time, that he was waiting for you. But, perhaps your nervous system outweighs your heart, remembering the emptiness that followed. Those alarms of self-preservation blare loudly, identifying even the potential similarity between your relationship with Chucho and your grandfather as a threat.

Has your heart not been fractured enough? Has the grief not settled itself deep enough? Has it not swallowed you whole and changed you so much that you left the only love left in this world for you?

The battle takes a week.

Back and forth, many internal talks with yourself. Bargaining, reasoning, crying. In the end, you somehow convince your brain to believe that you’re doing this for him. That he said you owed him dinner and who are you to argue with a man who’s been doing you and your family repeated favors for years now? Your hand shakes as it hovers over the phone, trembling so violently when you start to push the buttons that you have to start over a few times. It feels dramatic– it's a simple phone call. But, it holds so much promise, it opens another door that you were sure you never wanted to open again. The line rings and rings and rings and you’re just about to hang up when someone picks up the phone.

“Peña.”

“Hey, um, Chucho. It’s me. Blue, I mean, the woman from the house that you take care of. Are you free for dinner anytime soon?” You cringe at the shaky sound of your voice, waiting for his reply.

He chuckles at the way your words rush out, “Sure, mija, how’s Saturday?”

“Saturday’s good.”

He gives you directions from your house to the ranch and bids you goodbye. Saturday comes quickly and despite the nerves that invade your stomach, there’s an excitement in you. The road that you’re winding down slowly but surely crumbles beneath your tires, turning from a smooth road to bumpy gravel to dirt. As it does you see miles of green fields and buildings in different various states of condition. All of it is fenced in, and in the distance, you see the river.

Chucho’s waiting for you on the porch and to your surprise, he scoops you into a hug that is brief but tight enough to convey just how happy he is to see you. Though, if the hug wasn’t enough of an indicator then maybe his smile is. He guides you inside, giving you a quick walk down the hall to show you the bathroom before he leads you back to the front of the house. The living room and kitchen are separated by a small dining space that is a round table and four chairs. Fit for a family.

He gestures, “What’s mine is yours. I haven’t cooked much in a long time, hope there’s no cobwebs.”

You chuckle, shaking your head, “Nothing a little soap and water can’t fix. You go sit, I’ll take care of things here.”

With those words, Chucho leaves you to it, going to putter around the house.

You had decided on roast chicken when you’d gone to the store. You went as soon as you hung up the phone with Chucho, knowing that if you’d given yourself any more time to think about this dinner you’d cancel and avoid him. It would drive you to do what you’ve already done, leaving this place behind. Except this time there would be nowhere to go. Nowhere with even the traces of those that once loved.

Once you’ve got a soap mixture of water and an all-purpose cleaner on one side of the porcelain sink, you give everything a quick cleaning. It’s a practiced routine– cleanest to dirtiest– starting with an array of dishes you’ll need, the counters, the stove. There’s not much grim or grease on anything, just a light layer of dust.

This recipe is reminiscent, its muscle memory, and though it forcibly reminds you of your grandfather, you attempt to find comfort in it. It's one of the first things he’d ever taught you to make. As you cut fresh herbs, rosemary, thyme, and parsley, the woodsy smell takes you back to that memory. You see yourself, small, no older than 10, standing at the counter. Your grandfather’s hands guide your own as you slowly chop. It's easy for you to get lost in the past with the ease of your hand, mixing the herbs into butter, spatchcocking the chicken like its second nature.

For the first time in a long time, you feel secureenough to sit in that memory because you’re not alone. You’re with Chucho and the last time you’d been together was the easiest moment of your life since your grandfather passed.

But sit in it you do as you take your time. You notice the smile on your grandfather’s face as he watched you grate your first clove or garlic, the patience in his tone as you got distracted slathering the chicken with the butter mixture. The pride in the sit of his shoulders as you removed the perfectly cooked chicken from the oven, and plated everything yourself at much insistence. How it seemed both your hearts swelled when you sat down at the dinner table beside him. “Dinner’s ready,” You murmur as you do the same in the coziness of Chucho’s kitchen.

“Thank you for this, looks wonderful. Smells even better,” Chucho says with a smile as he joins you from the living.

“It’s no problem at all— but don’t give me credit just yet, you’ve gotta taste it,” You tease as you dole out servings of chicken and potatoes and veggies to the both of you.

By the way his eyes widen after the first bite, it’s safe to say he thinks it tastes as good as it smells.

After lulling into a relaxed silence, Chucho asks, “So, what’d you do before making your way down here?”

“I’m a baker. Was a baker. Want to be a baker, I don’t know,” You give him a sheepish smile before looking down at your plate.

“This isn’t a test, mija, just two people talking. You can relax. What do you plan to do here?”

You aren’t sure why you feel like you owe him an explanation. Maybe because you’re searching for one yourself. It's mortifying to tell someone that you’ve uprooted your comfortable life for the unknown without reasoning. There is reasoning beyond your simple words to Oliver– buried and unmoving–but the proper words escape you, sat just on the tip of your tongue.

You try again, saying, “I hope to get a job at a bakery but if not…I’m not really sure. There’s not much purpose in my life right now.”

“Everybody’s got purpose,” He insists.

You shrug, not completely convinced. What was your purpose right now? To be swallowed whole by grief and loneliness? To leave the only love you’ve ever known? To live the rest of your days living by yourself in your grandparents’ home, melting in the sweltering Texas heat?

There are worse things. You could be sick like your father, finding life bearable only with a sweet high coursing through your veins. You could’ve never known love. You could be dead. But none of that is truly purpose— the more you think about it the less you believe you’ve ever had one.

“I don’t know, I’m not so sure,” You muse softly, your throat growing slightly thick.

Chucho hears the change in your tone, looking over at you with concern, “Sometimes others are the only ones who can see our purpose.”

You narrow your eyes at him skeptically, “Let me guess, you think you can see mine.”

“Crystal clear,” He says simply, his expression completely deadpan before he takes another bite of his food.

You don’t ask him what it is. Your gut tells you he wouldn’t tell you even if you beg. You’re not sure you’re prepared to know anyways.

Sometimes others are the only ones who can see our purpose.

As the weeks pass, you and Chucho find a rhythm in your companionship. He makes sure to have the tea you like in his cabinet and to ask about your day. You ask him about the ranch, and catalog the old movies and shows he watches on his tiny little box tv. He tells you a little bit about the town and the activities here which are lots of block parties and bingo— not your scene. There’s a lot of silence and without the spin of a record, you can get in your head, though most of the time you can lose yourself in the cooking. Eventually, you build up the courage to ask him about bringing some music when you finish dinner one night.

“The next time I’m here…do you mind if I bring my record player? It’s just jazz, nothing distasteful,” You add quickly, hoping it’ll make your odds better.

He waves you off, before taking the plate you’re offering, “Bring whatever you’d like, mija.”

Things are starting to feel…well they’re starting to feel like home.

****

It’s just a couple of weeks later that with the help of Chucho’s badgering, you build up the courage to go into one of the bakeries you’d visited in town before. Sam’s Bakery felt oddly familiar when you stepped inside. It was small, cozy, and had the typical Southern love for white wood finishes all around. There were pops of color everywhere, giving it an almost retro look. The selection of treats was small, but that didn’t bother you, it just meant that they were focused on a craft, pouring their hearts into a curated menu. It’s what you prefer instead of the high-paced, stressed-out reality that was working for a well-known bakery that couldn’t pick a specialty– like the one at home.

Jo—the owner—is tall and lanky, her blonde hair pulled up into a bun just like it was the first time you’d walked in. When you walk up to the counter and practically beg for the job, you see something glimmer in her storm colored eyes.

“I can do you one better. What do you think of this place? Its runnable isn’t it?” She gestures dramatically to the space around her.

“Runnable?” You say lamely, brows furrowed in confusion.

Jo’s grin just widens, eyes brimming with mirth, “Why don’t you flip that open sign to close and we can talk about it.”

When you look to the door for the sign, you realize that you’re the only one here. Slowly, you do as she says, but not without voice your continued confusion, “I’m not sure I understand.”

“Well, Celia and I have been thinking for a long time about packing up and living out on the road. We’re not getting any younger. But I’ll only give you the spiel if you’re open to being the owner and running this place yourself.”

“The spiel?” You squeak out.

“Inticied?”

Even though the idea is terrifying, you find yourself nodding. Is she— she couldn’t be implying that she wants to sell you this bakery? You? A woman off the street that she’s known for all of 5 minutes. A woman who moved to destroy any chances of her past life flourishing. Well— perhaps that is the kind of woman who might need to take a chance no matter how fearful.

She clasps her hands together, raising her brows, “I knew you would want to hear it. I can just see something in you, I could tell the first time you walked in.”

You sit in Jo’s office over coffee and sweets, hearing her out and you see some of yourself reflected in her words. She loves the bakery but there’s something else out there for her. She offers you a cigarette as the two of you go back and forth, and you decline, watching as she gracefully lights one for herself.

It all happens really slowly— or least it feels like it does. The words pour out of her thick like syrup, your brain going fuzzy as you listen. Could you really? Could you do this on your own? Have you ever done anything on your own? Leaving. Moving here.

“And you’re sure?”

“About getting out of here? Hell yeah. We’ve been here all our lives,” She gestures around the room, the trail of smoke from her cigarette wafting through the air.

“No, about me. You’re sure?”

Her eyes warm despite their cool color, and she places a hand over yours, squeezing it gently, “There’s something about you Blue that just fits here. I have a feeling you were made for it. I swear, I knew it as soon as you walked in the door, call it god or the universe or whatever. But, I knew.”

“What if I’m not?”

“You are.”

Sometimes others are the only ones who can see our purpose.

> chapter 4

blue scoops taglist: @lesbianhotch, @honeybrowne, @jazzelsaur, @mccn-bcys, @jxvipike, @thevoiceinyourheadx, @hotchs-bitch, @laurensprentiss, @pedrito-friskito, @lola766, @amb11, @vanemando15, @emilianamason, @iamskyereads, @welcometostayingawake, @alpaca-swimsuit

#javier peña x fem!reader #fem!reader x javier peña #javier peña x reader #f!reader x javier peña #blue x javier peña #javier peña fanfiction #narcos fanfiction #arson writes narcos #not sfw #blue scoops

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javierpena-inatacvest · 4 months

Text

Agent Peña

Summary: You and Javi are unpacking as you move into your new house, when you come across something unusual in one of the boxes. Surprise, it's Javi's old tac vest, and boy, do you need to show him how good he still looks in it.

Word Count: 5.3K (I'm surprised it's not longer, I could write a thesis about this vest)

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (no used of y/n, reader's nickname is Osita)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) BOY OH BOY- unprotected p in v sex (be better pls), oral (m receiving), face fucking, mastrubation (f), big ole praise kink, creampie, cum play (ig??), soft dom!Javi (still being our consent king as always), Javi lifts reader up on the dresser and holds her hair, Javi's got a FILTHY mouth, THE VEST STAYS ON LADIES AND GENTS (gn)

A/N: ....Well.... Here we are. This idea has been rotting in the back of my brain for SO long, and I am finally ready to serve my time in horny jail 🫡 As y'all know, Javi's tac vest is deeply important to me, and it only feels right to support my namesake as such by sharing my deeply dirty thoughts of getting absolutely obliterated by this man in that stupid fucking vest. If you know me, no you DON'T, please do not make eye contact with me for the next 7-10 business days. 🤪

This can be read as a stand alone, or as a part of the It's Never Too Late Series!!

“Are you sure this is the last box?”

“Yes, Hermosa, I’m positive.”

“Well, that was your answer 3 boxes ago, Jav.”

You laughed to yourself, hauling what was supposedly the last cardboard box out of the back of Javi’s truck as you followed behind him into your new house. Your official move in day had finally come, and while you and Javi had been periodically transporting things from your apartment to the new house since it had been finished with construction, today was the last day on your lease, and the first day of your forever in your new home together. While you couldn't have been more excited to finally be in a real home of your own with Javi, you were much less excited about the 47 trips you had made in and out of the house, hauling boxes to and from Javi’s truck, and unpacking your entire existence into your new living space.

You let out a little grunt as you set down the box into the mountain-like pile that had accumulated in your living room, Javi sneaking up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist as he planted a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“You promise this was the last one?” You giggled, your voice oozing with sarcasm as you gave Javi a playful nudge while he held you in his grasp.

“Promise.” He laughed, giving you a squeeze, only making you squeal and squirm even more. “Hopefully unpacking shouldn’t take too long, I’ll start moving the heavier shit upstairs and in the garage, and I’ll come help you down here when I’m done.”

“What, are you saying I'm not strong enough to carry the heavy boxes? Rude.” You teased, spinning around to face him, crossing your arms over your chest, one eyebrow raised.

“You know that’s not what I’m trying to say, you dork.” Javi sighed, rolling his eyes at your utter lack of seriousness in response to his comment.

“I don’t know… Sure seems like it to me… I just don’t think that- HEY! PUT ME DOWN! STOP, STOP, YOU MEANIE!” You screeched, flapping your arms in hysterical laughter as Javi slung you over his shoulder, trapping you in the only way he’d figured out how to get you to stop with your never ending sass- tickling you until you were close to tears. “Fine, I- Javi! Stop! You win! You win! Let me go, you butt!”

“Did you just call me a butt?” He snorted, setting you back down on the ground, smirking at the goofy grin on your face as you tried to recompose yourself, post tickle torture.

“I would have come up with a better insult if I wasn’t close to almost peeing my pants.” You grumbled, sticking your tongue out at Javi, the two of you trying your best to keep from bursting into laughter again.

“Will you just go start unpacking, weirdo? The sooner we’re done, the sooner we can go break in the new bed.” He smirked, biting down on his lip, his eyes looking you up and down with a mischievous sparkle.

“Oooorrrrrr… We could just go break it in now and unpack later?” You shrugged, placing your hands on Javi’s chest, grabbing a fist full of the soft cotton of his worn t-shirt as you pressed up on your tiptoes and placed a kiss on his pouty lip.

“As much as I want to,” He paused, pressing his lips back into yours, feeling the smile of his smug grin, “If we go now, there’s no way all of this is ever getting unpacked.”

“Ugh, fine. You win again, Mr. Reasonable.” You frowned, giving him one last quick kiss before pulling away to search through the endless sea of cardboard to sort where each box needed to go. You reached down, hoisting up one labeled “bedroom” and resting it on your hip, pointing to the scratchy scribbles of Javi’s handwriting. “Look! I’m already going to the bedroom, soooooo…”

“Osita…”

“Fine, fine. You better move those boxes fast. Rude to keep your wife waiting like this, ya know.”

“Will you please just go unpack, Hermosa?” He sighed, laughing and shaking his head, hiking up two boxes, heavy enough to make his biceps flex and the veins in his forearms incredibly noticeable. You could almost hear yourself audibly gulp as you watched him walk up the stairs, the muscles of his back flexing and straining deliciously against the gray cotton of his t-shirt.

“Jesus fucking Christ…” You muttered to yourself, in awe of your husband’s sheer broadness. So in awe, in fact, that you hadn’t even realized you had let your box slip from its place resting against your hip onto the living room floor, making you jump and startle yourself, scrambling to try and pick it back up in hopes that Javi hadn’t noticed.

“You okay, baby?” Javi shouted from halfway up the stairs, peeking his head over the railing to see what had happened.

“Yup, yup, totallyyyyy fine, all good, just going to unpack, nothing to see here.” You mumbled, darting down the hallway, eyes peeled in whatever direction was the exact opposite of Javi.

Oof. You better find a way to become the world’s fastest unpacker.

Thankfully, you and Javi seemed to make an unspoken pact to unpack in separate parts of the house to avoid distracting each other, Javi now working on organizing things in the garage while you worked on sorting all of the things that belonged in your master bedroom. Clothes and sheets had been easy to put away compared to all of the pots and pans you had unboxed in the kitchen before this, working your best to put things away as fast as you could with keeping the metal clashing and clanging to a minimum.

As you dragged the last box labeled “Master Bedroom” into your room from the hallway, you were curious what kind of contents could be inside, considering you’d put away all of yours and Javi’s clothes, and whatever bedding belonged in your room. You spun the box around to each side, looking for any more clues, until your last turn, where you found “Javi DEA” printed on the upper corner.

You paused for a moment, letting your fingers drum across the tattered cardboard, questioning whether or not you should leave it for Javi to deal with, or open it up for yourself. You gently chewed on your bottom lip as you internally debated, trying to rationalize with yourself before quite literally opening up a box into Javi’s past.

You had heard about the good, bad and ugly that had been Javi’s life in Colombia before returning home to Laredo, so you would be shocked to find something in this box that Javi really didn’t want you to see.

It’s not like there was anything he’d be trying to hide from you in there, right? Probably just a bunch of badges and paperwork, anyways.

With a little sigh and a shrug, you carefully ripped down the seam of the tape holding the box together, slowly lifting the cardboard flaps to reveal the contents inside. As you peeked into the box, you let out a little huff of relief to find out that your suspicions were correct- nothing but file folders, old badges and ancient coffee mugs with DEA symbols slapped across the front.

You began making your way through the box, sorting its contents into piles for Javi to go through once he was finished in the garage. Even though majority of the items inside the DEA box were less than thrilling (unless you had a thing for reading 50 page long contracts full of legal jargon), you did get a kick out of Javi’s old badges, giggling at his grumpy frown that seemed to be plastered across his face in every picture he took from the time he started, until he retired. What cracked you up even more was finding the badges from the first few years Javi must have started working for the DEA, still sporting his signature pout, but with a clean shaven baby face you had only had the pleasure of seeing from the photo albums of Javi's youth that his father, Chucho, had so lovingly offered to share with you.

You gave the picture a sweet smile before setting it down with the rest of the badges in the growing pile, mindlessly reaching back into the box to pull out what you assumed would be more file folders full of paperwork. Except this time, you felt your fingertips graze against what felt like tough and worn fabric, dragging your hand further along the cloth until hitting a patch of scratchy velcro, making you cock your head in confusion. You scooted yourself over closer to the box, peering under the few manilla folders left inside to spot an army green strap popping out from in between them.

Now very much intrigued, you dug your hand between the sea of papers, yanking on the mystery item to reveal a deep olive green vest, followed by a few crinkled pictures that must have been stuck inside it, gently fluttering to the floor in front of you. You set down the much heavier than expected vest to pick up one of the photos face down on the carpet, only to turn it over and feel your jaw practically drop to the floor and eyes bulge out of your skull. Because in that picture, was not just any photo of Javi from his time in Colombia, this was a photo of Javi, in the very vest that you had dug out from the bottom of his box.

And holy fuck did he look hot.

Frantically, you picked up another photo that had fallen to the floor, feeling your heart legitimately skip a beat to find it was another shot of him in the vest, his dark curls sticking to his forehead from the sweat soaking his skin and the light blue button down underneath it, hands resting on the hips of his dark gray khaki pants that left very little to the imagination. You flipped over one last picture, only to find the same, breathtaking visual of him in that damn vest, his biceps straining against the sweat-stained cotton of his army green shirt, the veins in his forearms prominently on display as he held the gun he was carrying pointed at the ground.

While you had never seen these photos, or even known about this mystery vest until today, there was a part of you that was glad you hadn’t- the way Javi looked suited up in that vest had your head reeling in a way you weren’t sure you’d ever recover from, because Jesus Fucking Christ, it was the hottest goddamn thing you’d ever seen.

Your eyes darted back and forth between the three photos, each picture somehow looking better than the last every time you found a new detail to drink in that made Javi look even more delicious.

Holy fuck.

You couldn’t help but let your mind wander even further than it already was, picturing what Javi would look like with it on now, the broadness of his shoulders filling out the vest even more than he would have the last time he wore it.

You were so entranced, so lost in ogling at how attractive Javi looked in the vest, that you hadn’t noticed the sound his familiar footsteps trudging down the hallway, stopping in the doorway of your bedroom and watching you as you sat cross legged on the floor, hunched over the now nearly empty box.

“Hey, Hermosa, I’m almost all done in the garage if you wanna-” Javi’s voice quietly trailed off as his eyes wandered, looking at the items from inside the box spread across the floor, stopping at the long forgotten sight of his old tac vest propped up against the cardboard.

He couldn’t help but quietly laugh to himself, simply out of shock that you had even found the vest in the first place, considering he hadn’t even remembered it had been living inside a box that hadn’t been touched since it was shipped back to Laredo with the rest of his things post DEA.

“Where the hell’d you find this? I haven’t seen this thing in fucking years.” He chuckled, reaching down to pick up the well worn armor, letting his thumb run along the seams of the rough fabric as he held it up in front of him, blocking your blushing and bright red face from his view.

“It was uh- it was at the bottom of the box.” You gulped, trying not to stumble over your words, biting down on your tongue to try and keep your embarrassingly sheepish smirk at bay, Javi’s eyes now meeting yours as he lowered the vest from his view. He tilted his head in confusion at your clearly flustered state, reaching out his free hand to gently grab your arm, rubbing his thumb back and forth across your skin, his touch only making you more riled up.

“Hermosa, are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m- yes, I’m- I’m fine, it’s stupid.” You muttered, making no attempts to cover up your clearly blatant lie, darting your eyes away from Javi and shifting your gaze to the floor to try and hide your hot, flushed face, embarrassed that you were this worked up from 3 old photos and a piece of police gear.

But unfortunately for you, Javi knew you like the back of his hand, and knew all too well when you weren’t telling him something that was on your mind.

Letting his hand slide up your arm and across your collarbone, he stopped at your chin, forcing your gaze back on him, giving you a smug shrug and raise of his eyebrows, silently waiting for your real response, the one he knew you were hiding behind your bashful facade.

“What’s going on, baby?”

With your eyes locked on his, thumb resting under your jaw, you had no choice but to swallow your own pride, the sweet dark brown of his glare coaxing your sheepish secret right out of you.

“There were- there were pictures of you in the vest in the box. You look- Jesus, Javi, you look really fucking hot.”

“That’s it?” He laughed, softly swiping his thumb across your cheek, still feeling like he hadn’t quite gotten everything out of you.

“Well I was thinking... that uh- if- what-”

“What, baby? Talk to me, it’s okay.”

Oh, fuck me.

“Would you, um, would- would you put it on?”

“Put it on?” He chuckled, lifting up the vest, gesturing towards it.

“Mhhmmmm.” You nodded, letting your tongue run against your teeth before biting down on your bottom lip, feeling a rush of heat rapidly creeping through your body.

“Like, right now?”

“Like, right now.”

Realizing that you were completely serious about your request, Javi let out a playful scoff, running his hand over the back of his neck, almost as flustered by your ask as you were at the thought alone of seeing him in his vest.

“Really? I mean, uh- yeah, okay.” Working in a quick and determined silence, Javi began slipping the vest over his head, pulling it over his broad shoulders and unfastening the velcro sides before readjusting them, tugging the flaps tighter against his stomach to hold them in place, quietly grumbling to himself. “Used to be able to pull these a lot tighter…” He groaned, flattening the last strap against the velcro.

As his focused shifted from his vest to you, he couldn’t help but smirk at the dumbfounded look on your face- the image in front of you leaving you so completely stunned, you felt like you needed to wipe the corner of your mouth to make sure that there wasn’t any drool coming out of it. Your brain was so short circuited, at a loss to form any sort of coherent sentence, the best you could muster out was a low, shaky, “Holy fucking shit.”

“Didn’t know you had a thing for tactical vests.” Javi grinned with a devilish look slowing spreading across his face, seeing the complete and utter mess you were becoming as he slowly stepped towards you, the looming image of his broad body in that fucking vest making your heart race and your palms sweat.

“Well, I- I didn’t, um, I didn’t-” You stammered, your breath trembling as you tried to respond, your brain going blank as you watched Javi approach you. Before you had a chance to even try to and concoct some sort of answer, Javi’s hand was back under your chin, fingers wrapped around your jaw with a much tighter and demanding presence than just a few moments ago, sensing the undeniable shift of palpable tension in the room.

“Didn’t what? Use your words, sweet girl.” He rasped, teasing you with his knowingly smug smirk, his words shooting straight to your core, making your stomach flip in anxious arousal.

You could feel your words bobbing in your throat as you swallowed, your tongue darting out of your parted mouth, desperate to taste Javi’s lips now barely ghosting yours, patiently waiting for your response, relishing in the needy mess he could sense you were quickly becoming.

“Didn’t realize it until I saw you in it. You look- fuck- you look so hot.” You whispered, feeling his warm breath against your skin as he sucked at your pulse point, his teeth nipping at your neck as a ragged moan escaped your mouth. “Javi…”

“Not gonna give you what you want 'till you tell me. I wanna hear you say it. Tell me what you want.” You could practically feel his satisfied smirk as his kisses worked their way down your neck towards your chest, each press of his lips taunting you, only making it harder and harder for any part of your brain to function.

“I wanna- fuck- I wanna suck your dick. Fuck, I need to taste you.” You whimpered, reaching out to run your hand across his vest, letting it trail from his chest, down to his stomach, your fingertips grazing his belt buckle before a firm grasp wrapped around your wrist, holding your hand in place and stopping it from traveling any further.

“Nuh-uh.” Javi tutted, rasping in your ear. “Be a good girl and ask first. Tell me how badly you need it.”

“Please, Javi. Fuck, please let me suck your dick, baby. Please.” You moaned, sounding more desperate than you had intended, but fuck, there was nothing you wanted to do more than drop to your knees and worship him in the most sinful way you could.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking pretty when you beg for it. You need me that bad, Hermosa?” Javi grinned, feeling you nod your head frantically, the hand he was holding in his grasp reaching for below his belt. “Okay, baby, show me how bad you need me, huh?”

In an instant, you were dragging your hands down his vest, sinking to the ground as you frantically worked to undo his belt buckle, the quiet clang of the metal singing a song of sweet relief as you shuffled his pants down his legs before hooking your fingers around the elastic waistband of his boxers, tugging them down to meet his pants. pooling around his ankles. His cock sprung free as it was released, already painfully hard and weeping with precum as it slapped against his stomach, the sight alone making you lick your lips. You kissed the inside of his thighs, trailing your way up to his shaft in long, languid movements, dragging your tongue back and forth along the underside of his cock before sinking just his tip between your lips, swirling it in your mouth.

You had barely touched him, but you were already so worked up that what had started as just a wet patch in your underwear had now turned into the fabric becoming completely soaked in your slick, leaving your cunt aching and throbbing. With your mouth still sucking and flicking at his tip, you couldn’t help but let your hand snake down your front, sneaking between your skin and the waistband of your pants as it dipped into your underwear. You let your fingers slide through your folds, before sinking them into your heat, your hips instinctively grinding down on your hand to find any sort of temporary relief as you fucked yourself with your fingers.

Looking up at him with batted lashes, you sunk your mouth deeper down on his length, hollowing your cheeks as you took him inch by inch, watching his eyes go wide as you took the hand that had just been inside your pants back out to reveal the shiny slick covering your fingers, then wrapping them around his base, covering his shaft in your arousal.

It was taking everything in him just to say fuck it right then and there, to toss you onto the bed and fuck you until you were begging him to stop, but watching the way you worked around his cock so needily had him so stunned, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but let you work your magic.

“Jesus, fuck…” Javi muttered to himself, already feeling his balls beginning to tighten as your head bobbed along his dick, sinking down just enough to let the deep, musky scent of the curls at the base of his shaft tickle your nostrils.

It wasn’t long before his hand was buried deep in your hair, his fingers cradling the back of your head as his hips began to buck towards your face, trying to hold himself back from full-on fucking your throat, until your fingers wrapped around the back of his thighs, bracing yourself as you gave Javi your silent nod of approval to keep going. Letting a low groan rumble in his chest, his second hand met the one already palming the back of your head, guiding you up and down his cock as he thrust deeper into your throat, tears welling in your eyes and saliva spilling out the corners of your mouth. His tip brushed against your gag reflex, making you dig your fingertips further and further into his skin.

“Oh fuck- this what you wanted, Quierda? To get on your knees and let me- shit, shit, shit- fuck that pretty little mouth of yours like the good girl you are?” Javi hissed through gritted teeth, trying to keep himself together as he watched his length slide in and out of your mouth, tempted to let himself go and spill deep down your throat, watching his spend drip down your lips. But he knew he’d be kicking himself if he wasn’t finishing buried in the depths of your cunt, your warm, wet walls milking him of every last drop, clenching around him as you came.

That was enough to pull him back to his senses, guiding his dick out of your mouth, the two of you catching your breath as you wiped your hand with the back of your mouth in confusion, wondering what had made him back off so quickly.

“Javi, are you okay? Did I do something wr-oh!” You gasped, stumbling as Javi forcefully pulled you to your feet, manhandling you towards your dresser, your mouths becoming a mess of tangled tongues and teeth as your back bumped against the wooden edge. Javi’s hands were under your legs, grabbing you and hosting you up to sit on top of it, ripping your pants and underwear down off your hips and tossing them to the floor.

“I need to be inside you. Fuck, I need to feel you when I fuck you full of me.” He mewled, reaching down to stroke himself as he lined his dick up with your entrance, running his tip through your folds, coating it even more in your slick before sinking himself deep into your pussy, flushing his hips against you as his cock bumped against your cervix. Even though you were already soaking wet, you couldn’t help but whimper at the sweet sting of how full Javi’s stretch made you feel, gripping around the shoulder straps of his tac vest for dear life as he began to thrust in and out of you, already setting a punishing, desperate pace.

You wrapped your legs around the small of his back just under his vest, whimpering and moaning into his shoulder as your buried your face in the crook of his neck the lewd noises of muted moans and slapping skin filling the room as Javi punched into you, his cock splitting you open in the best way possible.

“Javi, oh fuck baby, fuck, you feel so good, oh shit-” You whined, your brain going blank, babbling between moans, already feeling a tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine while Javi’s hands gripped around your hips, holding you in place as he fucked into you hard and deep. Your cunt was starting to clench around his cock, pounding into that sweet spot inside you that had you seeing stars and screaming his name as you could feel yourself coming undone around him.

Rutting your hips against him, the hairs at his base rubbed your clit, the friction giving you just enough stimulation to send you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you with a ferocious intensity, flooding every inch of your body with pleasure.

“That’s it. Give it to me, Hermosa. Fuck- cum all over me baby girl.” Javi hissed through gritted teeth, his words humming deep in his throat as he fucked you through your high, his hands holding you in place as you melted into him, your body going limp as you came. “You gonna give me another one, Querida? Be a good girl and give me one more before I fuck you so full of me, I’ll be dripping out of you for days.”

You were so lost in your pleasure, you couldn’t find any words, simply nodding your head as you moaned into his neck, only starting to come to when you suddenly felt an emptiness in your cunt, Javi pulling out to scoot you off the dresser, guiding your feet to the floor as he turned you over, splaying your chest across the wooden surface and pinning your arms behind your back. Gently nudging your feet wider, you could feel his broad body looming over yours, his hot breath dancing across your neck as he nibbled at your ear.

“You still okay, Osita?”

“Mhmmmm” You whimpered, your body trembling as Javi’s hands ran across your hips, feeling his hard length pressed against your ass, wiggling your bottom half against him, desperate for him to ease the emptiness between your legs again.

“Lemme hear you say it, baby. Tell me how bad you need it.” Javi grunted, now dragging his cock through your folds, teasing your dripping entrance, waiting painfully patiently for your response.

“I need it so bad, Javi, please, please baby.” You moaned, rolling your hips and pushing your ass back on him, doing anything to try and feel him inside you again.

“My needy girl. Shhhhh, it’s okay baby, I’ve got you.” Javi smirked, flushing his hips against your ass as he bottomed out inside you, the fullness making you cry out in pleasure.

He slowly began thrusting in and out of you, dragging his cock along your heat, each stroke punching against your g-spot, so wet that you could hear each rut of his hips as he buried himself deeper and deeper into your hilt.

You were so blissed out, barely hanging by a thread as you felt heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, that you were resting your head against the dresser, closing your eyes as you felt yourself coming undone. That was until Javi’s firm grasp shifted from pinning your hands behind your back to sliding up your neck, resting his hand under your jaw and forcing your gaze into the mirror on top of your dresser.

Your eyes locked with Javi’s, the reflection of him in his vest towering behind you as he thrusted into you over and over, watching the brown pools of his eyes darken with lust as he watched you slowly begin to come undone under him.

“Eyes on me, baby. Wanna see that pretty face when you cum all over me.”

The image of him was all consuming- His wide shoulders spilling from the sides of the vest, his dark, damp curls sticking to his forehead from the sheen of his sweat that had begun to pool in his brow, the wrecked look painted across his face making you weaker and weaker as you could feel the heat creeping up your legs and through your core.

Reaching back, you grabbed on to the side of his vest, burying your fingers into the thick fabric for dear life as his pace began to quicken, his thrusts becoming faster and sloppier with each snaps of his hips as he felt your pussy fluttering around his length, watching you turn into a puddle below him.

“I know you’re close, baby. C’mon Hermosa, oh shit- give it to me.” Javi grunted, letting his hand drop from your jaw to snake down your body, the pads of his fingers circling your clit with just enough force to have you screaming his name, clenching your cunt around his cock as you came.

“Javi, Javi, oh fuck, fuck, fuck-” You babbled, your eyes practically rolling in the back of your head as Javi began to follow suit, rambling incoherently, chasing his own high.

“I know, baby, I know. Such a good fucking girl, taking me so well. Fuck, oh shit- I’m close, too. Oh, fuck me- Jesus Christ, I’m gonna-ahhhhhh-” With only a few more thrusts, Javi was spilling inside you, his spend pulsing against your walls as he milked himself of every drop he had, his body slumping over yours as your chests rose and fell in sync, trying to catch your breath.

Your legs trembled as the warm mix of your spend trailed down your thighs, only to be caught by his fingers, slowly dragging your combined arousal back up your skin before taking it and pushing it back into your entrance, languidly pulsing his digits in and out of your dripping hole, making a ragged moan fall from your lips as he nipped at your neck, softly sucking at your pulse point.

“Gonna keep you full of me all night, sweet girl, all fucking night.”

“Holy fuck…” You whined, finally catching your breath enough to speak before pushing yourself back up to stand, turning around to grab Javi’s face, pulling him in for an electric, passionate kiss before letting your hands rest on the worn army green of his vest, quietly laughing to yourself in disbelief. “Jesus fucking Christ, Javi.”

“You okay, Osita? Sorry if I got carried away, I just- fuck, seeing how worked up you were, I-”

“Javier Jesús Peña, you better not be apologizing to me for being the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in that goddamn vest. I swear to God, I’m never letting you take that thing off. Well… On second thought, if you don’t take it off I don’t think I will ever be productive ever again because holy shit.”

The two of you couldn’t help but laugh to yourselves as Javi wrapped his arms around your waist, his thumbs tracing soft circles against the bare skin of your hips, looking out at the scattered sea of pants and underwear on the floor that had been quickly left behind during your horny antics.

“Well, if you let me take it off,” Javi grinned, pressing a chast kiss on your cheek and then peppering them towards your lips, “then we can go take a shower to clean up,” he paused again, feeling his smile against your mouth, “we can go break in the bed, and I can return your little favor from earlier since someone was too eager to get dicked down to let me.”

“Oh, shut up, can you blame me? Don’t have to ask me twice.” You giggled, raising a playful eyebrow at Javi. “Just promise me one thing, okay?”

“Of course, Hermosa. Anything.”

“Don’t you ever get rid of that fucking vest, Agent Peña.”

Taglist:

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absurdthirst · 17 days

Text

Rewarded & Rescued {Javier Peña x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 18.2k

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

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

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

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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

|| MasterList || Javier Peña MasterList ||

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Christ, they gave me a girl. To do whatever I want with.” He tells Steve who groans down the phone.

“What are you gonna do with her? Fuck her?” Steve asks and Javi growls, “fuck no. She - she’s American. I have her passport. I need to figure out how to get her on a plane without Escobar knowing what I’ve done.” Javi explains.

Steve hums down the phone, “let me sort that out. You can’t risk having some girl in your apartment. Jesus, never thought I’d say that.” Steve snorts, “leave it with me.” He says before the line goes dead and Javier sighs.

Back in the bedroom, you are too exhausted to come back out, but you don’t completely trust the man who’s apartment you are in. Sliding a chair under the doorknob would be too obvious, so you put the letter opener under your pillow when you collapse onto the bed, ready to sleep. Hopefully, this will all be a bad dream and you will wake up from it soon.

Javier takes a sip of the whiskey, staring at the papers on the kitchen table while you sleep. He’s trying to figure out where the illegal money goes and who the money man is. If he can figure that out, he can track them down and bring them in. Escobar has had the government in his pocket for too long and they need undeniable evidence to make anyone take notice and question the cartel leader.

You sleep for hours. The sun is gone and the room is dark when you wake up. Making you think that maybe you had dreamed it all when you feel the letter opener under the pillow. Screaming when you realize you really are in this nightmare and not waking up safe and at home.

Javier rushes into the bedroom, eyes wide and gun in hand as he wonders if somehow someone from the cartel has realized who he is and has decided to take you both out. When he sees you sitting up, he glances around the room with his gun drawn. “What the fuck?” He shouts, heart pounding.

Eyes wide. You gulp. “S-sorry.” You bite your lip and raise your hands, leaving the letter opener under the pillow. “Bad dream.” You explain quietly. “I-I had a bad dream.”

He lowers the gun, feeling guilty for you having bad dreams. He shakes his head and shoves the gun into the back of his pants. “Jesus. Scared the shit out of me.” He confesses, placing his hand on his racing heart. “You want something to drink?” He asks, knowing you might not but he needs something to take the edge off.

You tilt your head, confused at the way this man just offers you casual hospitality like you aren’t his property. Nodding slowly, you have to admit that it would be good to relax a bit. “I- thank you.” You mumble. “For not shooting me.”

Javier snorts, “yeah well, I don’t usually hesitate before shooting.” He confesses, “but I wouldn’t shoot you.” He promises as he walks into the living room and over to the bar cart. “I have whiskey and…vodka.” He says, knowing that whiskey is the only thing he drinks so he has vodka for any of his female company that comes over to give him intel.

“I drink what you drink.” You decide, figuring it would be safer to have the same thing he is. He was less likely to drug your drink that way. You scramble after him, wearing the clothes he had brought you and in your haste, you had forgotten the letter opener.

Javier nods, grabbing two glasses and he pours out a heavy measure of whiskey into each glass. He knows you need it and he definitely fucking does. He hands you the glass after letting you watch him pour and he takes a sip to assure you it’s safe. “I’m sorry you’re here. In this shit situation with me.”

“I don’t understand.” You take a sip of your whiskey after he does. “You don’t act like Escobar, joking about what he would do with me if he wasn’t giving me to you. Yet, you had done something vile enough to rate getting a real live sex toy.” You snort. “A fresh cunt as Pablo said.”

Javier turns to look you in the eye, “don’t be mistaken. I’m not a good man. I’ve done a lot of shit. Bad shit. But that- touching a woman without her consent? That is too fucking far. I’ll kill bad men but I won’t kill women or children. I need to prove myself to Escobar but not by violating an innocent woman. I meant what I said…I like my women willing and consensual.”

You contemplate what he says, watching him closely and realize that he really is handsome. His chiseled jaw compliments his sharp nose and is softened by the mustache that is straight from the 70’s. “You must have been a Bandit fan.” You tell him suddenly, thinking about the American movie.

Javier chuckles, “I did love watching Burt Reynolds but I tried the 80s and didn’t like the clothes of the music. Didn’t fit me so I turned back to my old closet and I’ve never looked back since.” He smirks, “most women say it suits me.” He shrugs and takes another sip of his drink.

It does suit him and he knows it. You settle in the chair opposite him a little more. “So you aren’t going to hurt me, but you can’t let me go? Right?” You bite your lip. “Tell me, what are you going to do with me?”

Javier sighs, setting his glass down. “You’re gonna stay here until I can figure out how to get you home.” He reveals, “it’s too dangerous to let you go. They’ll find out I let you go and then it’s my ass on the line. Give me time to figure it out and then I’ll get you home.”

“Why?” You frown, looking down into the last drops of your whiskey and then back up at him. “You don’t know me, I’m nothing to you.” It’s harsh, but it’s also reality. He shouldn’t care about you at all but he’s going to risk himself for you?

“You represent the many women who have been abused or killed at the hands of Pablo Escobar and his sicarios. You won’t be one of the many who have suffered at their hands. You’ll go home and tell the world about this tragedy and tell them that Pablo Escobar needs to be taken down.” He says, measuring your reaction.

You stare at him in shock for a moment, unable to believe that he just said that about his boss. Biting your lip, your eyes water emotionally and you nod. “I’ll scream it every chance I get if I survive this.” You know there’s a good chance you won’t live. “He’s- he’s a monster. One who pretends to be noble.” You snort and shake your head. “I’m so fucking stupid. My friends and I- we joked about meeting Escobar on this trip. Buying some coke from him. I’ve never fucking done coke, but I was so cute, thinking that I could meet a drug kingpin.” You shudder and look back down at your drink. “Wish I had fucking missed my flight. Never come here.”

Javier reaches out to touch your hand before he pulls it back. “Don’t worry. I’ll get you out of here. You’ll be safe with me. You shouldn’t have come to Colombia. You should’ve stayed at home. You and your friends shouldn’t have come but you’ll get home.” He promises, “I’ll get you home.”

“I’m sorry.” You whimper quietly. “This is all my fault. It was my idea to come.” You confess. “My friends- they-“ you shake your head, unable to even voice the horrible things that you imagine they are going through. “It’s my fault.”

Javier doesn’t try to placate you with words when you know you’ve fucked up. He doesn’t want to upset you even more but he doesn’t comfort you. “Like I said, you will go home. I’ll make sure of it.”

“I’ll believe you.” You snort, tossing back the rest of the whiskey and holding out the glass for another. “If I don’t, I’ll drive myself crazy.”

Javier nods in understanding as he grabs the glass and refills it. “You can’t leave here, you understand? If you leave, you die. I can’t protect you outside of this apartment.” He says as he hands you back the glass.

“I won’t leave.” You promise, shaking your head. “If you are actually not going to hurt me and keep me safe, I will do whatever you want me to. I just want to go home.”

“I’ll get you home.” Javi promises, his dark eyes meeting yours as he swears he will do whatever it takes to get you home. “Just do what I tell you and you’ll get home.” He swears, downing the rest of his drink.

****

It’s been a few days that you’ve been in his apartment and Javier has left to check in with the sicarios, having to lie and tell them the disgusting things they’d expect him to do to you. They laugh and he pretends to go along with it, making out like he’s done those vile things to you. When he returns to his apartment, he unlocks the door to find you walking around in the fucking shorts he bought you from the list you gave him. He feels disgusting for finding you attractive but you are. You’re gorgeous and he finds himself thinking about you but he would never cross a line, you trust him and he wouldn’t break that trust.

You turn towards the door and watch him walk in, smiling at the sight of him. “Hey.” You greet him and hurry over the bar cart. You have learned that he loves to have whiskey, especially when he’s dealing with the Escobar or his cronies. Pouring him a drink, you hold it out to him. “I started dinner. It should be done soon.”

“That smells good.” He tells you, groaning at the scent wafting from the kitchen. You’ve taken to cooking dinner and for a man who usually survives on booze and cigarettes, it’s a welcome change in his apartment. “What’s cooking?” He asks as he takes the drink from your hand. God, you’re fucking beautiful and can cook. Any man’s dream but he can’t kiss you. Even if he wants to. It’s hard for him to distance himself when he’s so used to physical contact. He hasn’t brought back any of his contacts to the apartment.

“You had some meat in the freezer so it’s like a birria, but I didn’t have tomatoes.” You shrug slightly as he lifts the lid on the pot. “Hopefully it’s good. Although maybe I need to give you a shopping list.”

“Smells fucking delicious.” He groans, “you’re a good cook.” He says and turns back after setting the lid back on the pot. “You’re - you’re too good to me considering the situation.” He murmurs, sliding his eyes across the room guiltily, knowing that his contacts at the embassy are working on how to get you out of the country without anyone knowing.

“You could be a lot worse to me.” You acknowledge. “You could have given me back. I’m grateful that you have kept your word and kept me safe.”

Javier nods, reaching out to gently touch your upper arm. “I am working on getting you out. It’s not gonna be easy but I’m working on it.” He tells you, lowering his hand when he reminds himself that you probably don’t fully trust him even if he’s given you no reason to doubt him.

“I- I appreciate it.” You murmur quietly, looking down at the rice you are cooking. It’s been harder to ignore how attractive he is since you’ve settled in and realized that you are safe. “I really do. So while I can, I’m going to take care of you.”

Javier is surprised and he shakes his head, a little pleased that you feel comfortable with him. “You don’t have to but I appreciate it.” He tells you softly, “now…you want something to drink and then I’ll show you the new clothes I got you.” He says, knowing you need more clothes, he had gotten the girls who work for Escobar to help him get some things.

“You bought me more clothes?” Your eyes widen. “All I do is stay in your apartment. What you had gotten for me was fine.” You promise. You aren’t ungrateful, but he’s not going to take you anywhere, so as long as you’re covered, you’re fine. In fact, you have grown comfortable walking around his apartment in shorts and one of his t-shirts.

“I just wanted you to have some choices.” He shrugs, a little flustered. He must admit that he loves seeing you in his shirts but he can’t admit that to you. You’d think he’s a creep. “I spoke to someone today who is working on getting you a fake passport to get you into the airport and on the plane so Escobar isn’t flagged that you’re leaving.”

“Do you think that could actually happen?” Your eyes are wide and hopeful. “That’s amazing!” You bite your lip so you don’t cry, noticing that tears make him uncomfortable.

“I’m working on it, beautiful.” He promises, “I’m not that bad to live with, I hope, that you want to go because of me.” He teases softly and he winks at you. You have slotted into his life seamlessly and he isn’t sure how to feel about it.

You laugh and bite your lip again, this time to keep from saying that he is great. For a man who obviously has done horrible things, he’s actually pretty fantastic. He is kind, respectable, and intelligent. You’ve spent hours reading the books in his apartment. “No, not because of you. I think that you might be my guardian angel.”

Javier sighs and shakes his head, “I wouldn’t say that. I- I’ve done bad things in my life. I’m not a good man but like I said, I would never hurt a woman. My mama would slap me across the head if she were alive.” He says, ducking his head and he bites his lip, “when’s dinner gonna be ready? I’ll set the table.”

You shake your head and push him away from the stove playfully. “Go shower.” You insist. “You stink.” He doesn’t, but you want to take care of him. He should relax and get clean. “Shoo.”

He chuckles and nods, making his way out of the kitchen to shower and clean up. He never imagined he’d enjoy this kind of life. The one where he comes home to a home cooked meal and a woman that makes his heart flutter - not that he’d ever tell you that. He can’t get involved with you. You don’t actually know him or who he is. He needs to get you home and safe and he needs to take down Escobar.

Setting the table is so domestic. Like all of this. The table setting is for two, since he insists you eat as well and it’s shameful but you imagine he’s your boyfriend that you are cooking for. That you are together and he will kiss you before you eat. The rice is done and you smirk when you hear the shower start up, knowing that he will feel better after getting clean.

Javier showers and he can’t help his cock hardening at the thought of you walking around in his shirt wearing those short shorts. Fuck, he shouldn’t do this. He shouldn’t touch himself at the thought of you. He wants it. It’s hard not to when you look at him with those eyes. “Shit.” He hisses in English, reaching down to grip his hard cock, knowing this won’t go away until he deals with it. He slowly pumps, imagining you spread out on his kitchen table instead of your delicious food.

You fix yourself a drink too, aware that he doesn’t mind and sip it while you chop the few vegetables he had to make a salad. The man needs some proper food. And not from a restaurant like he had been doing. It feels good to do this, and you can see he appreciates it. Loving how he groans when he eats, you touched yourself last night imagining those groans were his sex noises.

He pants as he jerks himself off, the hot water running down his back as he imagined those little whimpers you make sometimes are from his mouth on your pussy. He wants to hear how you moan, see how you cum. You are as intoxicating as the whiskey you serve him and fuck if he doesn't want to drown in you.

The timer on the stove goes off and you smirk when you open the lid again. It’s smelling delicious and will be perfect the rice and the tortillas. His shower is taking longer than normal, so you don’t dish it up just yet, wanting it to be steaming hot when he sits down to eat

He groans when he cums, painting the shower tiles with his seed as he clenches his eyes shut and thinks about you. How fucking perfect you are. He pants as he rests his forehead on the cool tile as he slowly works his cock until he lets go and washes off the wall. He will do whatever it takes to get you home. You deserve to be safe and with your family. After turning off the shower and drying off, he dresses and makes his way back into the kitchen. "Smell better?" He asks teasingly.

You grin and lean in to sniff him when there’s the sound of gunfire, seemingly right outside the window. “Get down!” He screams in perfect English as he grabs your arm and pushes you down, under the table and sprints across the room to his gun.

His heart pounds as he grabs his gun and presses against the wall beside the window. The gun shots become more distant and he chances a peek out the window. Seeing a young kid running away. It’s something that happens with the young teenagers fighting in their own gangs. He pants as he lowers his gun, tense but glad to know you’re not in danger. You’re under the table so he sets the gun on the side and kneels down to see you. “You okay, sweetheart?” He asks you, again in perfect English, forgetting to keep up speaking in his mother tongue around you.

English. His English is perfect, not even a hint of an accent. He's an American. Your eyes widen in horror and you jerk back when he reaches for you. “You’re an American!” You screech, pushing out from under the table and moving to the other side, keeping the table between you. “You motherfucker, you’ve been lying to me! What is this? Some kind of trick? You’re planning on trafficking me?”

Javier curses softly under his breath at his fuck up. “No! No! I- shit. I can’t tell you. I can’t but you have to trust me. I’m American and I’m- I’m one of the good guys.” He winces at how bad that sounds but it’s true. “You gotta just trust me, sweetheart. I’m gonna get you home.”

“Stay back.” You shake your head and your heart drops. “I- I don’t believe you. I’ve been here for days and you’ve just pretended that you aren’t American! How can I trust anything you say?”

“You have to.” He says harshly, “I’m the only way you’re going to get out of this country. I’m your only hope. So you better trust me or you will be stuck here forever.” He half threatens, needing you to understand the gravity of the situation.

Your eyes widen and you swallow harshly. “You’re an asshole.” You decide, not hungry anymore and you turn around and march towards the second bedroom he had given you to use.

Javier sighs, feeling all the progress goes down the drain as you slam the door and he leans against the counter, looking down at the food you cooked. He washes up and puts the food in the fridge, sighing your name as he wonders what to do now. He needs you to trust him for this to work. He decides to call Steve and see how things are going with the passport situation.

You don’t come out of the bedroom until you hear him leave the apartment again. Sighing as you come out to find that he had cleaned up the kitchen and put everything away. The clothes he had bought are neatly stacked on the counter.

Javier sits in the bar, smoking his cigarette, and the woman walks past. His eyes trail along her figure but he finds the usual fire he feels absent. Usually he’d be chasing her but now, all he can think about is you. He met with Steve in an abandoned parking lot, discussing the details and timeline on the passport for you. Steve narrowed his eyes at him, asking if he liked you, to which Javi vehemently shook his head. Now, he’s giving you space and he knows he has to go home soon to check on you.

Biting your lip, you look at the closed door that is leading to his bedroom. You haven’t been in there before, but now you want to see what this man is like. Walking over to it, you push the door opened and step inside.

Javier downs the rest of his drink and the woman stands at the bar making eyes at him. He smirks at her and winks but walks straight past her to head home. He hasn’t slept with anyone since you arrived because he didn’t want anyone to see you and he has to keep up appearances that you’re his sex toy. It’s been a while for a man who uses sex to process his emotions. He heads out the door and makes his way home, eager to see you and make amends.

You find his room to be really tidy for a man. His bed is neatly made and his dirty clothes are in a basket. All in all, the room is devoid of anything personal. Which makes you wonder even more about him. About why he is working with Escobar.

Javier comes down the hall of the building and quickly unlocks the door. You clearly don’t hear him because he finds you in his room, the door open, and he can’t help but confront you. “What are you doing in my room?”

“Trying to find out who you are.” You don’t even try to lie, you don’t need to. Closing the beside drawer, you stand up straight. “What I’ve found, is that you are either the most unsentimental man on the planet, or you are here - working for Escobar - for a reason.

He appreciates you not lying to him and he knows he hasn’t told you anything. Maybe now is the time to tell you. “Come have a drink with me and I’ll tell you who I am.” He says, jerking his chin towards the door and he makes his way out into the living room and over to the bar cart.

He’s not yelling at you, or demanding you get out of his room and it puts you at ease more than anything else. Following him quietly and sitting down on the couch while he pours you both drinks.

Javier hands you the drink before he comes over to sit next to you on the sofa. He’s torn on telling you but he also thinks you deserve to know the truth now. He trusts you. He knows you aren’t working for Escobar otherwise his door would’ve been pushed down by now and a bullet in his chest. “I, uh, I don’t work for Escobar. Well, I do but…I’m actually a DEA agent and I am undercover working to take down Escobar and his cartel.” He reveals, deciding to cut straight to the truth.

Your eyes widen and your jaw drops open. What you had expected, you don’t know, but it wasn’t that he was a DEA agent. “I- are you for real?” You demand. “A fucking DEA agent? You must have been laughing at me when I said that the agency was close to catching Escobar?”

Javier shakes his head, “I wish we were closer. I wasn’t - I wasn’t original assigned to do this but I have to take him down. That’s why- it’s why I had to pretend that I was gonna abuse you. That’s what they expect of me and if I didn’t do that, I would’ve been found out.” He says with a sigh, taking a sip of his drink.

You stare down at your drink and sigh. “So the DEA knows Escobar is kidnapping women and trafficking them?” You ask quietly. “Good. Motherfucker needs to pay for what he did to me, to my friends.”

Javier nods, “he’s gonna pay. For all of it. He’s gonna be taken down and I’m gonna do whatever it takes to make sure he pays for what he’s done.” Javier promises, “I’m just - I’m sorry you’ve gotten tangled up in this. That you’re stuck here with me.” He finishes with a murmur.

“Out of everyone Escobar could have given me to, I’m glad it’s you.” You admit quietly. “I could have been really screwed.” You snort at your pun. “Literally.” It’s better to joke about it now, to break the tension. Even if there’s nothing funny about what could have happened. “So now you don’t have to pretend with me anymore.”

Javier nods, "I am glad I don't have to pretend anymore, sweetheart. I - my pa would kill me for lying to a beautiful woman." He chuckles softly, looking down at his glass, sloshing the liquid.

Your brow raises at the words he uses. “You think I’m beautiful?” You ask in surprise. “I- I didn’t think that you- you never- I-“ you break off and just shrug.

He sighs and shakes his head, "I didn't want you to think that I wanted to save you because I wanted you to - you know. That was what I saved you from. You're gorgeous and I - I gotta tell you, sweetheart, I ain't got the best reputation around town. I, uh, a lot of sicarios spend their time in the brothels and...so do I."

“Do you beat the women?” You ask seriously. “Abuse them? You once told me that you like your women willing and eager to fall into bed with you. Is that true?”

He shakes his head immediately, "no. Shit. No. I don't - I pay them well. They give me intel and I, uh, I make sure they enjoy the time they spend with me. I haven't been since you got here." He confesses, biting his lip.

“Because of me….” You bite your lip and you can’t help how that makes you feel. Almost proud that he’s not been with anyone else. “Is that because you don’t want them to know you aren’t touching me?”

“Partly. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I didn't want to make you feel awkward and I didn't want to leave you alone for too long. And...and because none of them interest me since you've arrived."He admits, his dark eyes flicking up to yours as he worries about your reaction.

“Do I interest you?” You ask softly, afraid that you’re reading too much into this and wait for him to tell you no. The nod is so subtle, you almost miss it, but it’s there. He wants you. You look down at your drink and set it down on the coffee table. “I’m going to go into your bedroom.” You announce as you stand up, “come in two minutes from now.”

His eyes widen slightly and he swallows down the rest of his whiskey when you disappear into his bedroom. He rubs his hands on his jeans, Adam's apple bobbing with nerves. He is used to paying a woman for sex. You are different. You want him, actually want him, and he holds your life in his hands. He wants to keep you safe from everything...including him. Yet he can't deny what he wants. He wants you. Standing up, he waits another thirty seconds before he makes his way into his bedroom.

Inside his bedroom, you strip down to nothing. Aware that he could reject you or end up being a far different lover than what you’ve imagined but you have to take the risk. You want to feel alive for the first time since this entire ordeal started and ironically, you’ll achieve that by fucking the man you had been given to. Except you are in charge of your body, and you want him to touch you. You kneel down on the bed and look at the door when it opens.

Javier inhales deeply when he sees you naked and kneeling on his bed. Christ, you're gorgeous. He slowly walks over to the bed, his cock twitching in his jeans, and he reaches out to gently grip your chin, making you look at him. "Tell me what you want, hermosa." He orders softly, wanting to hear you say it before he goes any further.

It’s so strange to hear his voice in English after hearing it for days in Spanish. You bite your lip and turn your head to kiss his palm. “I’ve imagined you touching me. Making me cum.” You admit when you nuzzle back into his hand. “I want you to tell me your real first name so I can cry that out when I cum.”

He nods, pleased that you want him to make you cum. It’s what he’s imagined since you arrived. “Javier. My name is Javier but you can call me Javi.” He tells you, caressing your cheek until his hand slides down to your neck. He squeezes it gently and slides it lower until he’s cupping your breast. “Eres hermosa.” He murmurs, “I’ve thought about you in my bed.” He confesses, “thought about making you cry out my real name.” He squeezes your breast before he pinches your nipple.

You gasp out in pleasure at the sudden, brief burst of painful bliss. It’s just the right amount of roughness that you would enjoy anytime but especially right now. “J-Javi.” You whimper, already struggling to keep your eyes open so you can watch him touch you. “Do what you imagined to me.” You beg softly

He groans softly, letting go of your breast to cup your cheek again and he surges forward to press his lips to yours. Pushing you back on the bed as he shifts to hover over you. Managing to kick his shoes off as he straddles your naked body, his tongue sliding into your mouth.

There’s something intoxicating about his clothed body grinding against yours. Enjoying the rough feel of his jeans against your thighs and core when he presses a leg between yours. His shirt is hanging down and you capture it, starting to unbutton it to feel his hot skin underneath your fingers as you kiss.

He’s already drunk on you. Groaning into your mouth as you fumble to undo his shirt and his hand slides down to squeeze your tit again. Unable to stop himself, he pulls away from your mouth, kisses down your neck, and takes your nipple into his mouth.

"Ohhhh fuck." you toss your head back against the pillows and whine at the sensation of his hot mouth against your nipple. HIs tongue running over it again and his teeth scraping over the sensitive skin. "That's- so good." you pant out, running your fingers through his hair and tugging on it lightly.

He groans into your skin, switching over to your other breast, and his tongue soothes the flesh after he bites down. Your moans and gasps have him throbbing in his pants and he shifts to continue kissing down your body, his tongue dipping into your belly button before he shifts to spread your thighs with his shoulders. Breathing you in, he gets a good look at your dripping wet cunt.

"Are you- you do that?" You ask breathlessly, lifting your head and looking down at him in shock. It was rare to find a man willing to even get close to a cunt with his face, but he seems almost eager. "You don't have to- I know that I'm wet enough."

Javier looks up at your confused expression and he snorts, “baby. I love pussy. I love burying my face in a pussy. I wanna bury my face in this pussy.” He says and surges forward to slide his tongue through your folds, groaning as your tangy taste hits his taste buds.

You whine, toes curling up and digging into the sheets underneath you. "Oh fuck!" you cry out, unable to believe that this man has his tongue sliding through your folds with an eagerness that would have you believing the women he paid were actually paying him. "Oh fuck, Javi."

He grins against your wet flesh, his fingers grabbing your thighs to push them back so he can push his tongue deep inside of you. The way you cry out has him grinding into the mattress and he’s glad he has his jeans on still.

Javi doesn’t just lick you to show that he will eat pussy, he licks you like it’s his only purpose. Thoroughly taking you apart one sharp flick of his tongue at a time, with his nose pressed against your mound and his hot breath puffing against your cunt.

Javier groans, loving your breathlessly whimpers and cries of his name, cries of nothing as you react to his tongue. He’s determined to hear you cum, to fall apart on his tongue. He wants to hear your pleasure. He closes his eyes for a second until you tug on his hair and he hisses into your pussy, dark eyes opening to meet yours.

“You like that?” You get your answer when you tug on his hair again and he groans into your folds again. Making you smirk slightly as you loosen your grip. “Make me cum.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking hard, and he needs you to fall apart beneath his tongue. His fingers press into your thighs as he spreads you further open for him.

Your thighs fall open for him. Willing to let him get as deep as he wishes if he continues to touch you like this. One hand buries itself back into his longer hair and the other grips the sheets tight. “Javi- oh- oh Jaaaaaavvviiiii!” You squeal when the next suck makes you fall over the edge and you shake in pleasure.

He works you through it, loving the way your thighs shake and you squeal his name. It almost makes him cum. He laps at your essence, loving the tangy taste as he eagerly drinks up every drop while he works you through your pleasure until you’re pushing his head away when it becomes too much for you.

“Oh fuck.” Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath but you want him to kiss you. Tugging gently on his hair and his shoulder, you urge him to crawl up your body. “Kiss me, fuck, I need you to kiss me.”

He can’t deny you anything. He crawls up your body, groaning your name as he wastes no time pressing his lips to yours. His tongue pushes into your mouth as he settles between your thighs again, grinding into you.

Your fingers slide down to the belt around his waist. Needing to strip him down and feel him. Unbuckling the clasp and flicking open the button. “Shit…” you hiss, reaching down and discovering he doesn’t wear underwear.

Javier grunts when you reach in to pull his cock out. He’s hard for you, aching really after jerking off so many times in the shower to thoughts of you. “Fuck baby. You feel too damn good. You want me to fuck you?” He asks gruffly, his cock twitching in your tight grip.

“Fuck, Javi, you- yessssss.” You moan. Your cunt clenches every time he twitches and he’s thick enough that you will feel him after you’re done. “I want you to fuck me. Take your pants off and slide inside me.”

He nods, shifting off of the bed to push his pants down. He kicks them aside and his cock bounces as he walks over to the nightstand to get a condom out. He wants to make sure you’re protected, even from him. He rips it open and rolls it down his cock, shifting to kneel on the bed. “You sure you want me inside if you?” He asks, wanting to make sure you fully consent.

You spread your legs wider, nodding. “Fuck yes.” You moan. “Fuck me. Please fuck me.” You aren’t above begging at this point. You’ve cum, but you really want to see what he looks like when he falls apart.

He nods, shuffling closer between your thighs and he grips his cock, swiping it through your folds. He groans at the heat of you as he notches himself at your entrance and his eyes meet yours as he pushes inside of you. Slow, not wanting to hurt you. He shifts to press his weight onto his forearms as he hovers over you.

Your mouth drops open as he slowly fills you. Enjoying the slight pinch and the fullness he gives you. “Oh fuck, Javi.” You moan, eyes fluttering close and you slide your hand up his shoulder to pull him down for a kiss. “Move.”

He doesn’t disobey you. He kisses you as he starts to move, slowly pulling out of you and he pulls back to watch your face as he pushes back into you. “Want you to enjoy this. Every second. You tell me what you need.” He demands, rocking inside of you, a slow pace at first to let you get used to him.

“Want to feel you for days.” You whimper, wrapping your legs around him. “Fuck me hard. Like you would one of the other women you fuck.”

He shakes his head, “you’re not like the other women. You deserve more. You are more.” He says softly, his dark eyes sincere as he looks at you with something close to love but it’s not. Not yet. He starts to move again, rocking into you.

You don’t argue, you can’t when he’s moving inside you. Sensual with just a bit of roughness, it’s perfect. Making you moan every time his hips hit yours.

He loves hearing you moan. He leans down to kiss along your neck, his hips grinding against yours. He’s not as rough as he could be, not wanting to be the man the other sicarios thought he’d be with you. He wants to be soft and sensual. “Hermosa.” He murmurs against your neck, “you’re so fucking beautiful.”

There is a tenderness to his kisses on your skin that makes your eyes water. This man is truly better than anything you could have ever hoped for. Your arms tighten around him and your cunt squeezes him tight. “So handsome. I can’t believe that those men think you are the same as them. You aren’t.”

He doesn’t respond, knowing he’s done bad things to take down bad men, but now isn’t the time to explain that. He continues kissing along your skin, down your chest until he’s taking your nipple into his mouth. His hips move to push deep inside of you, switching the angle slightly as he tries to find that spot inside of you.

“Oh fuck- there!” You gasp out when he hits deep inside you and make your eyes fly open in pleasure. His cock hits against it again and you moan. Your fingernails dig into his skin and you scratch lightly, not wanting to draw blood.

With a groan, he focuses on that spot and he loves the way your nails dig into his back. His cock twitches inside of you and he shifts his weight onto one arm so he can snake his hand between you. He rubs your clit with his thumb, eyes on you to see what you like.

“Oh fuck.” Your mouth drops open in a moan before you close your eyes and your body arches up to his touch. “So good, fuck, you’re so good.” You whine. “We- we should have been doing this from the beginning.”

Javier groans in agreement, “yes but I didn’t want - I wanted you to trust me.” He says, kissing your sternum, “only want you to trust me.” He murmurs, “and now I want you to cum for me.” He rubs your clit a little faster, needing to feel and hear you cum.

“Oh yes, yesssss.” You whimper, feeling your entire body start to tense for your coming orgasm. Knowing that it’s only going to be a few seconds before you come apart underneath him and your breath catches in your throat.

Javier groans as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him and he knows he’s already addicted to you. He fucking loves it. He loves making you feel this way. He rocks you through it until you relax beneath him then he pulls out. “Hands and knees, baby.” He orders, wanting to make you cum again.

You can't believe that he's not already cum. Most guys don't last longer than a few minutes and you've already cum. The fact that he's still going has you moaning even as he's guiding you onto your stomach and pulling you up to your knees. Looking over your shoulder, you grin. "Smack my ass." You order, wiggling it at him. "I did go through your room."

Javier chuckles, “you’re a naughty girl.” He rubs your ass cheek before his palm comes down on it, smacking you hard. You moan and his cock twitches. He grips his cock, positioning himself at your entrance when you lean forward to wiggle your ass. He’s not gentle this time when he pushes into you with a groan.

"Oh fuck!" You choke out when your entire body lurches forward at the thrust of his cock. Punching deep and filling you completely with one harsh thrust. "More." You moan as soon as you can draw another breath. "Fuck me, Javi."

He doesn’t deny you. Grabbing your hips, his nostrils flaring as he starts to fuck you hard. His fingers digging into your skin as he grinds him cock deep inside of you. “Feel good?” He asks, wanting to make sure you’re enjoying this.

"Godddddd yes." You moan when he pushes deep again. "So good." Your head drops down to hang between your shoulder blades and you move down to your elbows. Letting him get even deeper with ever thrust of his hips.

He caresses your back as you shift forward before he smacks your ass with both hands, squeezing the cheeks. His thumb pushes between your cheeks to press against the puckered hole, groaning at the way it flutters with each push inside of you. Christ, he’s fucking drunk on you. The way you feel around him.

"Oh my god." Your eyes flutter wide and then you relax into the sensation of him pushing against that other hole easily. If anyone would breach you there, you would let it be him. "Fuck, Javi, whatever you want, please, just don't stop."

Hearing you say that has him nearly cumming but he holds back, slowly down a little. He likes that you trust him so much. He bends over, letting his spit dribble down between your cheeks so he can press his thumb into your hips while his cock continues moving inside of you.

You whimper when his pace changes, slowing down and you feel. every throbbing vein in his cock scrubbing against your walls. "Oh fuck." You whine, trying to push your hips back, but he as you pinned with his body. "So good."

He loves hearing you moan like this. “You’re doing so well, hermosa. Want you to cum for me again. Want you to soak my cock again.” He murmurs, kissing your shoulder as he leans over you. He’s slow but he wants you to feel all of him.

You grunt as he presses deeper. Feeling like he's pushed up into your throat at this angle. You choke out a moan and clench down around him. "I- just like that." You beg, loving how he's pushing deep.

He keeps the same pace and thrust, wanting to hear and feel you fall apart again. He groans softly when your walls clench around you he him as he pushes his thumb into your ass. “That’s it, baby girl. You gonna be good and cum for me?” He asks, voice raspy and deep with his own pleasure.

It shouldn’t affect you that bad. The way his voice dips down and his words twist in your stomach. “Yes.” You whine, tanging your fingers into the sheets. “Fuck, yes, I’m your good girl. I’m gonna cum.”

“Jesus.” He hisses at your words, his entire body vibrating with desire for you, and he pants as you grind back against him. “That’s it, hermosa. Thats it baby. Cum for me. Cum for me.” He pleads roughly and finally, you cry out. Your body shaking as you clamp down on his cock again and he thrusts into you, trying desperately to hold on but he pulls his thumb out and drags you up against his chest. His grunts in your ear as he picks up the pace, thrusting into you like a jackhammer as he gets closer to his own orgasm.

“Ja-Ja-Javiiiiiiiiiiii!” You squeal as he ramps up the pace, fucking into you roughly and you love it. Taking the harsh thrusts and knowing that the ache in your cunt will last beyond cleaning up. “Cum- cum in me.” You beg, even though you know he’s got a condom on. You still want to feel him fall over the edge. “Cum for me.”

He grunts, jaw clenched as his arm wraps around you and he squeezes your tit in his other hand. “Shit. Shit.” He pants as he thrusts fast and hard until he comes to a stop. A strangled groan escaping his lips as he pulses and fills the condom deep inside of you. His teeth sinking into your shoulder as he squeezes you close to his sweaty body.

The sharpness of his teeth make you clench around him again, milking his cock even more as you feel him ride out his high. “That’s it, baby.” You coo softly, turning your head and pressing your lips to his cheek.

He seeks out your lips, pressing his to yours and he slides his tongue into your mouth. His hands caressing your stomach down to your hips as you both take a second to enjoy your orgasms. He pecks your lips and lets go of you to reach down and grip the base of the condom before he slowly pulls out of you.

When he pulls out of you, your body melts into the bed. Slumping down and you huff out a chuckle as you try to catch your breath. “Holy shit.”

He quickly ties off the condom and leans down to kiss along your back as you recover. “Damn right.” He chuckles softly and shuffles off of the bed. He grabs his jeans and pulls them on before he walks into the bathroom to grab a wet rag to clean you up and then he tosses that onto the side when he settles down on the bed, leaning against the mattress. He reaches into the nightstand to grab his smokes and he wastes no time in lighting one.

You turn to look at him, stealing the cigarette and taking a drag. “Are you ready to go back to your real life?” You ask him seriously. You know that if he’s undercover, he has to be under a lot of pressure.

Javier sighs as he exhales the smoke. “I don’t even know what my real life is. All I know is that I need to take down Escobar. Nothing else matters except that. And I gotta get you home.” He adds, raising his eyebrows at you before he takes the cigarette back to take another drag.

“That’s comforting.” You snort, swinging your leg over his thighs and straddling him. “You will take him down.” You predict softly. “and until I go home, I’ll make sure this apartment is very….relaxing for you.” You promise with a grin, leaning down and kisses him right after he inhales the smoke.

He smirks and playfully nips your chin, shifting to snub out his smoke in the ashtray on the nightstand. “Yeah? Gonna make sure I have a nice warm pussy for when I’m coming home all cold and lonely?” He asks, his hands coming up to caress your waist.

“You fuck me like that?” You huff, grinding down on him. “You’re damned right. Freshly shaved and dripping for you.”

Javier clicks his tongue, “not bothered about the shaving. I’m a man of the 70s, baby. I ain’t afraid to get down and dirty.” He smirks and slides his hands lower to squeeze your ass. “You enjoy it?” He asks, licking his lower lip as he leans back to look at you, wanting an honest answer. He hasn’t paid you to moan for him. He wants to make sure you enjoyed it.

"Loved it." You admit easily, smirking down at him and cradling his face so you can kiss him again. It's fucking astonishing to find a man who is as good as he is under these circumstances. You should be terrified of him touching you, but you can't wait until he is wrecking you again. "Want to do it again. When you can."

Javier chuckles softly, caressing your skin. “I’m not eighteen anymore, baby. Gimme a while. Doesn’t mean I can’t get you off in the meantime.” He smirks and slides his hand lower until he’s cupping your pussy. You whimper and he rubs your clit, “God, you’re still so wet.” He murmurs, shifting to push two fingers inside of you.

“Oh fuck.” You whine, rocking onto his hand shamelessly. “You- you’re so fucking good at this.” You whimper, eyes sliding shut in pleasure. He’s not selfish and that makes you even wetter for him.

He smirks, loving the praise, and he curls his fingers deeper before pressing his thumb to your clit. “Take what you need baby. Ride my fingers.” He orders, loving the way your chest heaves and your eyes flutter shut.

This man is so sexy. You don’t know why he’s not been snatched up, because he’s also a good man despite what he says. You moan his name quietly and roll your hips down onto his hand eagerly. Wanting to obey him.

He watches you take what you want from him. Your hips grinding down on his digits and he curls them as you rock down. “That’s it baby. Take what you need. Wanna watch you cum again for me.” He murmurs, his dark eyes flicking between you and your pussy, his digits glistening when you lift up. “You’re so wet.” He murmurs again, a tinge of awe in his voice.

“You’re so sexy.” You hum, ducking your head down and nipping his jaw as you continue to rock in his hand. “Sexy, chivalrous, fuck, you turn me on with how fucking good to me you’ve been. And you’re an agent? Even sexier.”

His heart pounds at your compliments and he surges forward to press his lips to yours. His tongue slides against yours as you grind down onto his fingers and his thumb presses harder against your clit. “You’re fucking gorgeous.” He murmurs against your lips, “gonna keep you safe.” He vows, “gonna make sure no one touches you except me.”

You whimper into his mouth when his tongue slides against yours once more. You believe him. If he says you will be safe, then he will protect you. Your arms wrap around his neck and you pour yourself into the kiss, wanting to make this good for him too and he seems to really like kissing.

His groan is muffled by your tongue and he isn't in a rush to make you cum. His cock is interested but he's still not fully hard. His free hand finds your breast, squeezing it and pinching the nipple as you eagerly kiss him.

Shuddering, you press yourself into his hand harder, needing more. He's completely focused on you and you don’t think anyone has ever done that for you. You nibble on his lip when you pull back slightly and moan again when he curls his fingers up.

"That's it, hermosa. Can feel how close you are. Need you to fall apart for me. Can you do that? Can you cum?" He asks, murmuring against your chin as he pushes his fingers deep, slow, hard thrusts into your weeping cunt.

“Yes.” Your gasp of pleasure is one that is purely anticipatory. Knowing that you are about to cum again, your body tensing as you move closer. “Gonna cum for you.”

"That's it. That's it." He murmurs as seconds later, you clamp down on his fingers. "Good girl. Good fucking girl." He groans, loving the way you practically soak his hand and his jeans as you shake against him.

You collapse against his chest and pant as you try to catch your breath. Your body is still quaking and his fingers are still moving, although slower than they were before. Turning your head, you kiss along his neck lazily.

He withdraws his fingers after a few moments, his wet fingers squeezing your ass as he rocks you on his hardening cock while you kiss along his neck. "Fuck baby. Want me to fuck you again? Want you to ride me." He confesses when you pull back to look at him.

“I’ll ride you.” You nod, reaching down and palming his cock through his jeans. “You have another condom?” You ask breathlessly. “Want you to sit right here and relax while I make you feel good.”

He nods, reaching over to grab a condom from the nightstand and he hands it to you. "I'm yours to do what you want, hermosa." He promises, a groan escaping his lips when you pull him out of his jeans and squeeze him.

He’s gorgeously uncut and you can’t help but slide down his body so you can take the head of his cock into your mouth. Wanting him to experience your mouth before you ride him. He moans and your tongue presses against the sensitive slit.

“Jesus Christ.” He hisses as you take him into your mouth. “Baby. God. I- fuck.” He groans when your eyes flick up to meet his. He’s a sucker for eye contact. It’s so sexy. You are so sexy. His cock twitches in your mouth and he swears he has to take a deep breath to control himself.

You want to make it good for him. Keeping your mouth soft and sensuous as you work him slightly deeper. Keeping your eyes on him since he seems to like that a lot. Your moan of approval when you taste the salty pre-cum reverberates around him and your hand starts to slowly pump the base of his cock while you bob your head.

"Fuck." He pants, reaching down to caress your cheek, "you're so fucking beautiful." He murmurs, "so fucking beautiful." He can't deny that you make him feel so much more than any other woman he's slept with in years. That scares him honestly.

You hum, sucking on him lightly and pulling off with a pop. “You want to cum down my throat, or do you want me to ride you?” You ask breathlessly. “Your choice baby.”

“Ride me.” He says, voice rough with desire as you slowly pump his cock. You nod and let go of his length. He shifts back against the headboard while you grab the condom and straddle his thighs.

Ripping the foil open, you pull out the rubber and pinch the tip while you roll it down his thick length. Making sure it’s secure, you pump him again while you shuffle forward and line your cunt up to sink down on him. Quickly taking him into your body with a loud moan of his real name.

He groans your name as you sink down onto him, his fingers finding your hips as you moan as he stretches you out. “God, baby girl. You feel so good.” He grunts, his hands sliding up to squeeze your tits as you settle onto him.

“You feel good.” You pant out breathlessly. Enjoying the hot hands on your tits as he pinches your nipples again. “Oh fuck, oh fuck Javi.” You whine, leaning back and letting your head fall back between your shoulders. “You’re so deep like this.”

He groans, his eyes flicking down to look at where he’s disappearing inside of you. “Jesus Christ, baby. You’re so good. Look so good.” He says as you lean back and he slides his hand across your stomach until he’s pressing his thumb against your clit.

“Fuck, Javi.” You whimper, your cunt clenching around him when he starts to rub small circles in your bundle of nerves. “You know every trick in the book, don’t you?”

He chuckles darkly, “had a lot of practice. Lost my virginity when I was fourteen.” He confesses while rubbing your clit a little faster. “Also, wanna see you cum. Like seeing you cum. You’re so gorgeous.” He reveals, leaning in to gently kiss along your shoulder.

“Hard not to feel gorgeous when I have your attention.” You admit with a sigh, enjoying the slight tickle of his mustache. “You should have a dozen kids by now.”

He snorts, “I’m careful. Always keep it wrapped and I haven’t had any accidents. Haven’t had anyone come forward yet. Why? You volunteering?” He asks with a smirk.

You moan softly, clenching down even as you grin. “That would be a conversation to have, wouldn’t it? Asking how you go together and having to explain that you knocked up the woman a drug dealer gave you. But she wanted you to.”

“Hell of a story.” He agrees, “I definitely don’t think you should get pregnant right now. I would have to kill every fucker in this goddamn country to protect you.” He says with a hiss.

Your brow arches up in surprise, you had expected him to laugh off your comment. Instead you hum in agreement and lean in to kiss his lips. “Agreed. The condom stays on.” You squeeze him again and bounce a little harder on his cock.

He’s a little relieved but also a little disappointed. He doesn’t deny that the idea of seeing you pregnant is tempting but it’s irresponsible. Beyond imagination. He has to keep you safe and that includes all aspects of your physicality. He groans when you bounce harder again. “Christ, baby.” He murmurs, “so fucking good.”

You can barely push out a light chuckle, so breathless from how his cock is hitting inside you. Deep and thick, he presses against all the wonderful spots that make your body tense every time you slam back down on his lap.

“That’s it. You gonna make yourself cum on my cock like a good girl?” He asks, licking his thumb again to press it to your clit as your hands press against his chest for balance. “So beautiful riding my cock like a goddamn rodeo.” He pants, “seen less professional ones in Texas.” He jokes breathlessly

“Ohhhh fuck!” You moan, jerking slightly at the pressure. “Yeah? You’re a Texas boy?” You ask, wanting to know more about him.

"Born and raised. Laredo." He reveals and he groans, "fuck. I- I need you to cum for me again, sweetheart. You - you're so fucking tight." He hisses when your walls flutter around his cock.

You whine, nodding as your hands brace on his broad shoulders. Increasing your pace until you are practically galloping on him. Moaning out his name until that last roll of your hips and your entire body stiffens and you scream his name.

He groans when you clamp down on his cock, your body putting him in a vice grip that he struggles to move within but he shifts onto his knees, your legs around his waist as he thrusts up into you. "Fuck. I- I'm gonna cum." He warns, unable to withhold like he did last time when you're so fucking tight around him and you sucking him off before. "Mierda. I - fuckkkk." He hisses as he bites down on your shoulder

You moan softly when you feel him throbbing inside you. “Thank you.” You whisper, closing your eyes and holding him close. “Thank you for caring for me, protecting me, satisfying me.” You know that it’s crazy but you turn your head and kiss his neck. “I’m falling in love with you.”

Normally, Javier would be shit scared. He would've been running for the hills hearing those words but he can't run away from you. Especially when he feels the same way, it's terrifying. To have something - someone - to lose when he's fighting for his life in this undercover mission. One wrong move and he's dead. You're dead. It puts everything on the line but in this moment, he doesn't give a fuck. He pulls back from you to look you in the eye. "I feel the same. We shouldn't. So much at risk but fuck, I love you." He murmurs, voice rough with emotion.

You know that it’s probably the proximity, that once you leave, he will never think of you again, but you smile into his neck and sigh happily. Your fingers caressing his back gently. “Good.” You hum, basking in the moment and stealing every second of joy life will give you. “That’s good, baby.”

****

A few weeks go by and you're settled in a routine. You sleep in Javier's bed at night...well, try to sleep after he fucks you. Then you spend your days reading and waiting for Javier to return home. One day, he comes back and you greet him with a kiss but he doesn't seem enthusiastic. "What's wrong?" You ask and his dark eyes look sad as he holds up the passport in his hand.

"Got your fake passport. You're booked on the first flight home in the morning." He says, swallowing harshly.

“Oh.” Your heart drops and you immediately have to look away from him, eyes watering. You don’t want to go, as crazy as that sounds. It’s dangerous and he’s undercover, so you can’t stay, but you don’t want to. “Well, I- I guess that tonight is our last night together.” You try to sound stoic but it falls flat. “You’ll be happy to not worry about me.”

Javier shakes his head, throwing the passport down on the table nearby and he grabs your waist to pull you into his chest. Burying his nose in your hair, he breathes you in. “Don’t want you to go. I want to stay here in this apartment with you and forget about the rest of the world but it’s dangerous here, hermosa. I can’t lose you and if something happened - fuck - no. You need to go. You need to be safe and I’m gonna try to take that bastard down.”

“You will take him down.” Javi has been opening up to you, finding it cathartic to have someone know that he’s not the monster that the men he is with are. Your arms hold him tight and you try not to cry. “You will, just like you kept me safe.”

He kisses your hair before he kisses your forehead. His nose nudges yours and he tilts your head up to press his lips to yours. He needs to know you’re safe. It’s more important than his love for you. He can love you from afar. He doesn’t want to love you from a grave site. He deepens the kiss, suddenly getting urgent with need for you as he pushes you up against the wall, his tongue sliding into your mouth.

You feel the change in the mood, from sad to desperate and you understand completely. If you are leaving, you want this time with him, you need it. The chances are that you will never see him again. Your hands move, desperately ripping open his button on the shirt he is wearing, scattering them across his apartment.

He groans into your mouth, practically devouring you, and he drags the dress you’re wearing up your body, reluctantly pulling back to pull it over your head and it’s soon on the floor. No words are spoken as he kisses your neck and cups your tits, glad you have taken to not wearing a bra in his apartment.

Your fingers push the stretched fabric of his shoulders and let it fall, attacking his belt next. He doesn’t wear underwear, so the second you can, you are wrapping your fingers around his cock and moaning when you find him already hard.

“Shit.” He hisses as you squeeze his cock and his fingers hook in your panties. He isn’t patient. He can’t wait to push them down so he’s ripping them from your body with a groan. “Fuck. Need you.” He rasps, grabbing your thighs to lift you up against the wall. “Put me in.” He orders, his cock throbbing in your grip.

You whimper his name, finding his need for you utterly intoxicating and you notch his cock against your entrance eagerly. Gasping when he doesn’t hesitate to bury himself to the hilt. No gentleness, just pure need.

He’s driven by desire, love, and desperation. He doesn’t want to lose you but he can’t be selfish. You deserve to feel safe and you need to go home. He can’t follow you and he can’t let everything he’s worked so hard for you down the drain. He groans your name and leans in to press his lips against yours as his body keeps you pressed against the wall until he starts to move his hips.

You whimper his name, clinging to him like he’s going to disappear if you let go. “I’m yours.” You promise raggedly against his lips. “All yours, make me yours.”

He loves the way you cling to him. He thrusts into you, desperate and sloppy but passionate. “Mine. Like I’m yours baby. Fuck. You’re mine.”

“Yes, yours all yours.” You pant, desperate for him to know it, to believe it. His hips slam into yours and drives you into the wall to make you moan at the roughness of it. “More, baby, I need more.”

Javi groans, his fingers digging into your thighs as he works you on his cock, lifting you up and down as he pushes you into the wall. “Fuck. Tell me what you need.” He demands, “rub your clit.”

“Just you.” You squeal breathlessly, reaching down and rubbing your clit. “Just need you. Just you baby, your cock is so good. So perfect inside me. I love you.”

“Oh fuck Javi, Javi, JAVIIIIIIIII!” You scream out in pleasure when your body locks up, core clenching down around him and soaking him with your cum. Shaking against the wall while he continues to pound into you and draw out your orgasm.

He swears his heart stops when you clamp down on his cock. “Fuck yes. That’s it baby. That’s fucking it.” He growls, loving the way you grip him and soak him and he pushes deep, “fuck. I- I gotta pull out.” He murmurs, remembering he didn’t put on a condom.

“Don’t.” You whimper, wanting to feel him just once. “I’m about to start my period.” You are, you aren’t lying to him. You should be completely safe for him to fill you up this once. “Want to feel you. Keep you with me.”

He doesn’t deny you. He groans as he thrusts hard, pushing deep inside of you a half dozen more times before he cums. He pants just before he bites down on your shoulder. “Fuck. I love you” is muffled into your skin.

Your eyes roll back and you whine at the feeling that is swimming around inside you. Enjoying the heat and wetness as he paints your walls with spurts of his hot cum. “Love you too.”

He kisses everywhere he can reach. Your nose, your cheeks, your forehead, your chin, and finally your lips. “Te amo.” He chokes into your mouth, hating that he has to let you go. He’s terrified of you forgetting all about him. He loves you. He loves you more than he ever thought possible and he’s going to leave you.

“I love you too, Javi.” You can’t help but start to cry. They are silent tears, ones that just express how badly you want to stay with him. A far cry from the woman screaming to go home not so long ago. “I don’t want to eat. I just want to go to bed, baby.” You beg. “Take me to bed.”

He doesn’t pull out of you. Instead, he carries you into the bedroom and lays you down on the bed. He’s gentle, caressing your body and he pulls out of you as he shifts to lay between your thighs. He stares at the mess he made looking at your entrance, cum threatening to drip out, and he can’t help it. He surges forward to slide his tongue between your folds.

Shuddering, you moan his name while your fingers run through his hair. You’ve learned that Javi has no problem with doing what he wants and he obviously wants to touch you like this, unconcerned with his cum between your thighs. “Fuck. I love you. I don’t want to go.”

He pulls back for a moment to say “I don’t want you to go but you have to.” He dives back in a few moments later, his tongue ravenous and carving indistinct paths while he tries to memorize every tiny detail about you.

Your moans fill the room, soft and sweet. He’s taking his time, not rushed a bit as if you have all the time in the world rather than just tonight. He reaches up and twines his fingers with yours, holding your hand as he continues to take you apart with his tongue.

He wants to burn your moans into his memory, carve your taste into his tongue, he needs to remember every single detail about you before he lets you go to return to safety. He’s slow and methodical as he pulls you apart stroke by stroke, uncaring of the salty taste of his cum combined with your tangy juices that make him go crazy.

You’re there forever, legs spread while he feasts. Time seems to suspend into nothing and your breath catches and never recovers. Making every moment drag out as your body burns and twists on itself until your orgasm snaps through you, sharp and bright, cunt gushing all over his face when he presses his thick fingers deep into your walls.

Javier groans into your clit, loving how you are clamping down on his digits. "Fuck baby. That's it." He murmurs into your flesh as you shake above him. He works you through, his fingers squelching with your combined cum.

Panting, you try to close your legs, overstimulated and nearly sobbing from the pleasure. He kisses your thigh and grins up at you. “Want another?” He asks and you shake your head. “I just want you.”

He snakes up your body, kissing every inch of skin he passes, until he is pressing his lips to yours. "I love you, hermosa." He murmurs, nudging his nose against yours as he settles beside you and pulls you into his side.

“I love you too.” You sigh softly, your hand splayed over his heart and you kiss his chest. “I know you won’t be able to call me, but I’ll be thinking about you. Hoping you’re safe. Praying you are.” You know he can’t promise you anything, this is just a flash in the pan for him, and he will go back to his normal life after he catches Escobar. “You’ve saved my life, Javier.”

He sighs, “I did what was right. I have fucked up a lot on my life but I couldn’t let you be abused or worse. You were something special from the moment I saw you. I’m just - all I ask is that when you get home, you’re happy. Be happy.” He pleads softly, wanting to know that this hasn’t all be in vain.

You want to tell him that you won’t be happy unless you are with him, but you can’t. Not when it’s not what he wants to hear. “I will, Javi.” Reaching up, you caress his cheek. “I can be happy because of you, amor.”

Javi’s dark eyes meet yours and he swallows harshly, “good.” He murmurs and brushes his lips against yours. All he wants is for you to be safe and happy…even if that isn’t with him.

****

Javier glances around the airport, worried that a sicario or two have followed him. Steve is in the terminal with another agent to make sure he has back up just in case. Your passport was accepted without question and won’t be flagged by one of the informants for Escobar who works at the airport. He bites his lip as he sets your suitcase down at the gate. Your eyes are already watery and he fights the instinct to just take you back home but he can’t. You have to go.

“This is it.” You bite your lip, aware that you shouldn’t cry but you can’t even help it. You’re doing good not bawling your eyes out. Glancing around the airport, no one seems to be watching you, but you look back at Javi. “Can I kiss you?” You plead softly. “One more time? Or is it not safe?” The last thing you want to do is to put him in danger, but you can’t imagine boarding this plane without kissing him goodbye.

Javier can’t deny you. Hell, he can’t deny himself. He reaches for you, grabbing your waist to drag you against him. His lips immediately find yours and he groans into your mouth as he pours every thing he’s felt for you into this last kiss. He doesn’t care if anyone is watching. He needs to do this, he needs you to know how he feels.

It’s a goodbye kiss. A kiss that is desperate and yearning and bittersweet. The saltiness of your tears mixes with the whiskey and nicotine from Javi’s tongue. You hold him close and kiss him back just as desperately until you are unable to think about anything but him.

He isn’t sure how long he kisses you, but soon the tannoy announces that your flight is about to board. He pulls back, pecking your lips, and he leans back to look at you, his hands caressing your waist. “It’s time to go, baby.” He says, letting go of you and your hands clench in the air as if to keep holding him. His heart is pounding in his chest but he has to let you go. “Be good. Be happy.” He demands softly, kissing your forehead as your row is called.

Walking away from Javier is the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. Looking back at him until you can’t see him anymore, you bite back a sob as you collapse into your seat. You’re free, but at what cost when you are separated from the man you love?

****

It’s been a year and Javier has no clue if you’ve moved on. Maybe you’ve found a new guy. You could be married. The thought makes his stomach twist but he’s here. He tracked you down using his contacts and he’s here to see if you still feel the same way. He does. The former Casanova of Bogotá has been celibate since you left, wanting to focus on taking down Escobar. He fucked up. Got involved with Los Pepes and got sent home before he could take down Escobar but he’s here and he doesn’t want to focus on his failure. He swallows harshly and takes a deep breath before he rings your doorbell.

You sigh as you hear the doorbell, looking over at the door and contemplating not answering but you can’t do that. Wiping your hands on the kitchen towel, you walk over to the door and flip the lock to open the door. Since you’ve been back, you’ve settled back into life with only a few hiccups. Memories of your time in Colombia are now bittersweet, the good far overshadowing the bad.

Javier shifts from one foot to the other as you open the door and he offers you a half smile. “Hola hermosa.” He says, fingers flexing as he prepares for your reaction.

Eyes wide, your mouth drops open in shock. You never expected to see Javier again. Not really. You had convinced yourself it was that Stock-ham, whatever, you had read about. That it was just a fling for him and that you had imagined yourself in love with him. One sentence, two words from the man, a year later would prove that was a lie. “Javi!”

He stares at you, heart pounding as he prepares himself for your reaction until you fling yourself forward and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your lips to his. He groans into your mouth, loving how you feel in his arms, pulling you so close you can barely breathe.

You don’t care that it’s been a year. That you haven’t heard from him and that you’ve wondered if he’s been dead or alive this entire time. Scouring the news for any information about Escobar and the entire ordeal down in Colombia.

He kisses you over and over until finally he pulls back and looks at you with love in his eyes. “You been good?” He asks and you nod, still speechless that he’s found you. “I, uh, I got sent home. Fucked up and got involved with the wrong people but I’m here and I- I still love you.”

“I can’t believe you are here.” When you find your tongue, you’re reaching out. Touching him in disbelief and for one horrible moment, you are convinced it’s a dream. “I’ve missed you. So much. You really still love me? It wasn’t just….circumstance?”

Javier reaches for your wrist, kissing your pulse. "I still love you. I haven't - I haven't been with anyone since you left. I fought hard to get Escobar so I could come home and find you." He admits, "I love you. I still love you."

“Oh baby.” You whimper quietly, melting against him. “I love you too. I never stopped, I couldn’t stop. You- you are the love of my life and I’m grateful Escobar gave me to you.”

Javier cups your cheeks and nudges his nose against yours. “I’m here baby. I’m here and I ain’t leaving. I love you.” He murmurs, closing his eyes as he breathes you in.

****

“Fuck Jav.” You moan as your hips rock up to meet his mouth. It’s early, the sky just changing colors with the rising sun, and Javi woke up eager to have you. He’s been at your home ever since he got back from Colombia. He took you to Texas to go to Danny’s wedding and to meet his Pa. He even got his mom’s ring from his dad but you don’t know that yet. His fingers curl deep inside of you as he sucks on your clit and the phone starts to ring. “Shit.” You hiss, trying to push his head away but he pulls back to growl “leave it.”

You pant, “it might be - fuck - important. It’s early.” You tell him but he ignores you, focusing again on making you cum. The phone rings again, “Javi.” You whine, hand reaching for the receiver but he slaps it down with his free hand, silently telling you to leave it again. His fingers push deeper and he can tell you’re close. His digits curl just right and you clamp down, crying out his name just as the phone rings again. He works you through it as much as he can before he’s pulling his soaked fingers out of you and grabbing the phone from the cradle. “Why the fuck are you calling so early?” He growls down the phone without asking who it is.

“Agent Peña.” The official voice makes him sit up. “Yeah?” He asks, voice raspy.

“The Cali Cartel. It’s time. You’re reassigned back to Colombia. I’ll call later with your flight details.” The line goes dead and he stares at it, unable to respond or say anything at all.

“What-“ you sit up and frown as he stares at the phone. “Baby, who was that?” You ask, worried that something is wrong. You know they’ve captured Escobar, Javi had gotten the news from Steve, getting drunk that night and pulling you apart for hours as fucked through his emotions.

Javier swallows, setting the phone back down and he closes his eyes for a second, unable to look at you. “I’ve been reassigned. They want me back in Colombia to take down Cali.” He reveals, his heart aching.

You hear it in his tone, he wants to go. “Oh.” Pulling the sheet over your body, you sit up, watching him start to pull away from you. “Then you have to go.” You decide, pushing away your own heartache. “They are giving you a second chance, to do it right this time. You have to go.”

Javier is torn. He wants to do it right. Take down Cali the right way and redeem himself. Yet he also doesn’t want to lose you. “I- I don’t know.” He confesses, knowing you won’t wait for him again. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Javi.” You cup his cheeks and press your lips to his. “You go to Colombia and you do what you need to do.” You tell him softly. “You want to go….so go.”

“I don’t want - I can’t leave you. I don’t want to be gone and come back to find you’ve moved on. I know we love each other but I can’t ask for you to wait for me again. I want…I want you to come with me.” He says, even though he knows the risks. He can protect you.

“W-What? Come- come with you?” You hadn’t even considered it a possibility. “The DEA would let you bring me? How?” You can’t imagine they would want to have some random civilian in the country and possibly in danger.

He nods, "Steve brought Connie. She - she was a civilian." He explains, "I don't want to lose you." He confesses, "Do you want to come with me?"

“Connie’s Steve’s wife.” You remind Javi softly. “Of course I want to come with you, but I don’t think the DEA will let you bring your girlfriend.” You admit. “You aren’t going to lose me.”

He swallows harshly, knowing you’re not wrong. “They might not let me bring my girlfriend but they’d let me bring my fiancée.” He says and you frown, “fiancée?” He sighs, opening the bedside table to grab the velvet box he had hidden in there. “I was going to take you to dinner on Friday. Make it romantic but - but I don’t want to wait.” He confesses and your eyes widen. He shifts to kneel at the edge of the bed in front of you. “You came into my life so unexpectedly and I- I don’t regret saving you from Escobar. You were the missing piece of me that I didn’t know was gone. You make me so damn happy and I know I’m bad with words but I love you with every fiber of my being. I’d do anything to keep you safe, to make you happy. Will you marry me?” He asks, opening the box.

“Jav- I-“ your throat closes as your eyes fill with tears, looking down at your love on his knee as he asks you to marry him. “Yes! Yes! Yes! I will marry you.” Launching yourself forward, you crash into him, needing to kiss him once more to remind you that this isn’t a dream.

He kisses with a smile on his lips, pouring every ounce of love he feels for you into the kiss. He pulls back after a second to get the ring out of the box. He remembers proposing to Lori and he didn’t really feel much at the time, doing it out of obligation. Right now, he’s asking you to marry him because he loves you with all of him. He takes the ring out and takes your shaking hand, sliding the ring onto your left hand.

“It’s beautiful, amor.” You gasp, looking down at the ring in awe. It really is beautiful, but beyond that, it’s the realization that Javi wants to spend the rest of his life with you. “I love it and I love you.” You promise, leaning in to kiss him again. “My fiancé.”

****

Javier looks out across the ocean, the sun is about to set and he clears his throat as the breeze makes the linen shirt he’s wearing blow up slightly. “She’s here.” The officiant announces and Javier exhales shakily, turning away from the water to see an even more exquisite sight.

God, you take his breath away. Walking towards him wearing a white sundress, he swears his heart is about to pound out of his chest. When you stand before him, he reaches for your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. “You look gorgeous, baby.” He murmurs when he stands up straight but keeps your hand in his.

“I didn’t know you were such a romantic.” You admit, amazed by the beautiful, small wedding he had insisted on. It was gorgeously simple and yet the pinks and oranges streaking across the sky is something that could have never been replicated in a fancy church somewhere. “I love you so much.”

Javier smiles, “I love you too.” He takes your hands as you stand beside him and the officiant begins the ceremony. His stomach is twisting but not with nerves, it’s butterflies and excitement. Knowing that after this, you’ll be his wife. He never imagined he’d settle down but you changed that for him. He can’t imagine a day without you now. He squeezes your hands when you recite the vows and he proudly declares “I do” when asked if he wants to take you as his wife. The rest of the ceremony seems like a blur until the officiant says “you may now kiss the bride.” He surges forward to press his lips to yours, your rings shining on your finger as the sun disappears beyond the horizon. “I love you.” He murmurs into your mouth before he kisses you again.

Smiling against his lips, you sigh softly. “I love you too.” You never expected to find the love of your life when you had been kidnapped and given to one of the world’s most famous drug dealers in the world’s sicarios. It could have turned out to be your worst nightmare, but it ended up being your dream come true.

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