#spanglish babe
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SFW:
Rarely cooks for himself because he’s always on the go, but when he does find the time to whip up a meal, it’s always the best thing you’ve ever tasted.
Dry sense of humor, but will crack a smile (and sometimes even a laugh) despite himself at your puns/jokes/general silliness
Stubborn as all hell. Will fight tooth and nail with you over the dumbest shit just because he’s so obstinate.
Speaking of stubborn, good luck getting this man to admit he was wrong. You could draft a whole essay in MLA format with a PowerPoint presentation on why, in fact, he’s completely wrong and he’ll still look you dead in your eyes and say “That proves nothing. I’m right.” Sir, no you are not, let me count the ways.
Don’t let that deter you though! He apologizes for his stubbornness in other ways--whether it’s a bouquet of your favorite flowers or bringing you coffee in the morning, he’s a man of action, not words.
Stoic and standoffish when you first meet him. It takes him a little while to soften, and there’s a big part of him that wants to cave, to break down those walls and open himself back up, but he fights it every time. Despite that, he craves softness and warmth, so when you come along to give it to him in droves, it’s a losing battle for him to keep you at arm’s length
Once those walls are down it’s like night and day. He’s handsy, can’t keep them to himself. He’s always gotta be touching you in some capacity if only to remind himself that you’re real and he needs to cherish every moment he gets with you because he knows better than most how quickly things can change.
Will always make time for you. Doesn’t matter the time of day or night, doesn’t matter what he’s doing, you call and he’s on his way.
Uses all sorts of pet names on you in English and Spanish. Mi cielo (my heaven/sky), mi alma (my soul), chula (cutie), reinita (little queen), mi amor (my love), babe/baby, angel, sweetheart, sunshine, and bunny to name a few. If it’s sweet and makes you fluster, he’s all for it.
Speaks Spanglish a lot, especially when he’s mad. Will switch between both so fast you can hardly keep up, and he’ll stop mid-rant and give you a sheepish smile, shrugging his shoulders. “My mouth has a mind of its own, bonita. Lo siento.”
Calls you often when the two of you are apart. Can’t end his night without hearing your voice. No matter where he is, you can guarantee your phone will ring right before you fall asleep every single night. He always says he’s just calling you to say goodnight, but then the pair of you end up talking for hours. Not that you mind, the lack of sleep is worth it.
NSFW under the cut 18+ NO MINORS.
NSFW:
Oscillates between a hard and soft dom depending on the day he’s had or the mood he’s in, but regardless of that, he’s always the top.
Eats for his pleasure. When his face is buried between your thighs, it’s not about you, it’s about him and he’ll eat until he’s satisfied, regardless of how desperately you try to shove him off. “Nuh uh, mami, m’not finished yet. Lay back and take it, huh? Be a good girl and let me have my fill. Tastes too damn good.”
Grunts and growls most of the time, but when he’s feeling softer that man 100% whimpers.
A vocal lover--he likes to taunt and tease you, overwhelms you with praise, forces you to answer his questions even in the midst of your fuzzy-headed bliss. “Speak up, princesa. I asked you if you can feel me deep up in that belly. Yeah? There we go. That’s my girl.”
His favorite positions to fuck you in tend to alternate, but he’s a big fan of doggy with his hand around your throat while you’re on your knees with your back to his chest, mainly because it allows him to sink his teeth into your neck and speak absolute filth in your ear. Missionary or a full blown mating press and prone bone are others he enjoys. Also likes to pound into you from below when you ride him--again, this man is all about control so even when you think you have the upper hand, you don’t.
Big on marking you--with his fangs or otherwise. When you ask him to bite you for the first time he goes absolutely feral, fucks you so hard you can’t walk right or sit down for a week, your chest, neck, and back littered with bruises, bite marks, and a prominent puncture wound at the hollow of your throat.
Stamina for days. My guy could spend hours on end fucking you into the mattress and he does every single time. There are no quickies with Miguel--when he makes time for you, he makes time. Will clear out an entire day and dedicate it solely to taking you apart and piecing you back together just so he can do it all over again. “One more round, baby. C’mon, need it. You’re not gonna deprive me, are you? Nah--you know better. Open up for me, chula, just like that.”
Big breeder balls. (Sorry, I don’t make the rules.) My boy will stuff you so fucking full. Practically cums buckets and loves to watch it ooze out of your abused little hole when he’s finished pumping several loads inside you. “Lookit that, huh? Ese pequeño coño está lleno, ¿no?” (That little cunt is stuffed full, isn’t it?)
To be continued…..
#miguel o'hara headcanons#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara x y/n#sipderman 2099#miguel o'hara fluff#miguel o'hara smut#smut writing#spiderverse imagine
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Pedro Boys - Dom, Sub or Switch? 🤔
Another day, another Pedro Boys ramble.
☝🏻I'll mark this NSFW 🔞 as it gets a bit spicy with the boys dirty talking...
I apologise now for my terrible Spanglish. And the length of this ramble. 🫠 Sorrynotsorry.
Enjoy! 🖤
Joel Miller - Sub
Okay. Keep your green flannel shirt on and hear me out. Joel's out here saving your clumsy ass on the fucking daily. Watching your back, making sure you don't eat the poisonous berries n' shit out a Buick later. Nuh darlin'. They ain't good for ya. But twenty year-old canned Chef Boyardee? Now we're talkin'. He's ensuring you don't get munched on by walking Goombas. Get the fuck down! Stay quiet! I mean, this greying geezer is the epitome of dom swagger, right? The Protector? It's the broad shoulders and creaky knees that make your days old, yeasty panties (because let's face it, the apocalypse ain't pretty, babe) moist as hell for that surly old man. But, what if Joel exudes so much energy keeping you alive and not being fungi-bait, that when it comes down to getting jiggy wid' it after what feels like an exhausting monotonous lifetime, he just wants you to take the reins so he doesn't have to think about it? Hmm?? Yeah? Naaaah. Fuck that. Joel Miller is a motherfucking dom who will always fuck your shit up, dick you the hell down, and leave you a quivering, soaked mess, no matter how bad them knees get traisping and wheezing up five thousand flights of stairs at the ripe ol' age of 56. Give him a few minutes to recuperate and then he'll be on you like hornets on a sticky toffee. Ain't gon' suck itself, darlin'. Open. Good girl. Eyes on me. Take it deep. More… like that. Yeah. So good for me, ain't ya? Can ya breathe? Then ya ain't doin' it right. Did I say stop? Put it back in your fuckin' mouth.
Joel Miller - Sub ☝🏻DOM
Francisco Morales - Switch
Frankie loves to pull the ol' switcheroo on ya, hermosa. The man is rabid, foaming feral one minute, yanking you about as he pounds you from behind with your wrists held together at the base of your back. Take my fucking cock. Yeah that's it… Cum all over this cock. Go on. Fuuuck! And then the next he's on his knees pleading for you to just touch his leaking dick as he makes a mess all over the polished hardwood floor, whining and pouting like a little boy who just dropped his ice-cream. Please, baby. Touch it. I-I need you. Fuck. Please let me have it. Por favor hermosa, lo necesito tanto! Please! PLEASE!
The cap stays on either way.
Ezra - Switch
Although a switch, Ezra will tend to lean more towards submissiveness. Mostly because he loves nothing more than watching you take the initiative, Birdie. Enamoured by strong heroine-types with fluttery eyes, who can expertly handle his thrower, this rambling man is soon silenced to mush when you put your finger to his lips and push him down on the dirty bunk straddling him and sliding down that thick, oozy appendage. But when Ezra goes dom, he goes dark. You think you know pleasure, that you know the scaffold of pain? Oh, little bird. Your knowledge lacks bounty. But in this moment right here? I'm afraid for both of our sakes, I must riposte. Dark and depraved, oh Kevva you won't believe the levels of depravity this Southern outlaw will stoop to when he goes prospecting deep in your pussy.
Dieter Bravo - Sub
Dieter is a sub, mostly through lazy convenience; a side effect from all the dope. The man simply doesn't have the energy to peel himself from his bed, the floor, the tea party on the ceiling, to whip out the cuffs and chains for kinky shenanigans. He'll make you do all the work as he tops from the bottom lying back on the pillow, a fat blunt on the go and telling you exactly what he likes and feels through red, droopy eyes. Lick my balls, baby. Ohh-hoo, like that. Mmmmyeeeaah. Fuck, I'm so excited... No, really I am. No, I'm not falling asleep... I swear.
*Imminent snoring and drooling.*
Agent Whiskey - Dom
This cowboy dandy has an accoutrement of lassos and whips, do you really think Jack is a sub? C'mon now, sugar, you know better than that. Jack's favourite rope trick is tying you up and watching you squirm against him as he brushes that fuzzy caterpillar against your ear and whispers all the filthy, un-gentlemanly things that this denim clad lonestar is going to do to you. Christ, you look so fuckin' good all tied up n' helpless like this. You listening good, sunshine? Cuz ol' Jack's gonna make this a rodeo you won't forget any time soon. Hoo mama! Now then, you remember your colours, sugar? Good. You might be needing em'. I'll make sure of that. I promise.
Manners maketh the man, afterall.
Javier Peña - Dom
Pleasure dom Javier is all about the, uh, pleasure. This crafty agent doesn't need any whips, chains or paddles, ohhh no. He takes his sweet, sweet time in annihilating you, breaking your back from all that damn arching you'll do. Drawing out every fibre of your orgasms into his waiting, moustached-mouth, then'll continue to stimulate you further, even when it's too much to bear that you hiss like a rattlesnake at him. But he's relentless. He's smothering. This Loredo lothario's smirking at you through a smoke filled pout as you writhe and moan for more of this sassy man-slut with the resting bitch face and tight ass jeans. Always wanting more, cariño. Qué codicioso, cariño. Me dices que quieres que pare, pero ambos sabemos que quieres más…
No, that's not Javier instructing you how to parallel park. That would be: Ahora, ponga la marcha atrás y gire la rueda hasta bloquearla. Ahí lo tienes, tranquilo. Cuidado con la acera. ¡Míralo! - Either way, it still sounds sexy AF, right? And that hijo de puta knows it.
Oberyn Martell - Switch
Purveyor and indulger of endless sumptuous delights, it makes sense for Oberyn to be a switch because that man likes to have all the fruit and nuts he can cram into his eager mouth. And the man likes his nuts. He exudes gentle dominance with subtle dance-like movements; fingers pushing against your clavicle, eyes roaming over your sweat sheened body, and teeth pulling at your flesh as he tastes the honey you pour freely into his mouth. Oberyn can own you with a simple crook of his lips. The sub side of him is slack, cool and relaxed as you climb on top, conquering that mountain, and pin his wrists above his head as he eyes you back with subtle, yet proud, mirth. Tell me, does this seat make you feel powerful over your Prince, hmm? Good. Worship me. I promise to do the same in return when you've had your fill of me, sweet one. But be cautious, for we will do it my way. And I will hold nothing back as I fuck my bastards into you.
Marcus Pike - Sub
Mr Pike just wants to please. He's a people pleaser. A yes man. An avid pleaser in the bedroom too. Please, Mistress. Can I have some more? All the pleases with whistles and bells on. Despite being an FBI agent and catching the bad guys, there isn't a mean, dominant bone in this gentle man's body. He's a sickly-sweet sweetie pie. He loves you, getting hard on your happiness, and will do anything for you. And I mean a-ny-thang. You want to put that in my… in my a-ass? Okay, I'll try it. Go slow, please… oh fuck. Oh fuck. Yeah! Yes Mistress. Damn that feels soooo good! Oh please, more. I want more. Don't stop. Mmmm! I'm so close already! Can I please cum, Mistress?
See? Told you. Anything.
Dave York - Dom
Like you're surprised. This man's name should have been Dom-as-fuck York, am I right? And you just know that Dave is a darkest-always-before-the-dawn dom. Sleek and pre-ordained. Cool and collected as he presses the duct tape down over your lips and checks the cuffs are tightly cutting into your wrists. Dave's inner sadist delights in your discomfort, revels in your pain, babe. Loves to see the water bead in your eyes; your mascara tears making his cock harder still. He grips you by the chin as your muffled breaths hiss out from under the tape. Look at me when I fuck you. You're such a little whore for me, hmm? Parading yourself in front of my wife. Well, now you know what happens when you act like a slut. Don't you? You won't be making that mistake again, will you? If you do, you know what'll happen. And I won't be this gentle next time. No. Next time I'll make you bleed. Don't you even fucking dare think about cumming right now. Sluts don't get to cum. You're just a hole for me to use, baby. Whenever I want...
Dave's the dark, twisted asshole of your masochist candyland dreams. You still keep going back for more though, despite his threats. I mean, you would, wouldn't you?
Pero Tovar - Sub
As much as Pero likes to convince himself that he's a man in charge, can take on a sly task and see it through without ending up in the stocks, that misguided front soon crumbles as soon as you present either food or your pussy at him. If you offer both at the same time, there is a very good chance you'll see his brain sluice out of his ears and plop in flumpy mounds around his feet. Pero won't be able to articulate anything to you in comprehensible language amidst the jangled bear growls that'll collide against his teeth. Girl, you just gon' fucked up that Spainard. Now, feed the hungry bear before he mauls you. Rawr.
Din Djarin - Dom
The metal man cometh. Or, at least he'll be making you, especially around that thick, hard Mandalorian helmet of his. And we ain't talking Beskar steel, if you catch my drift… This Space Daddy Dom knows exactly how to make you fly, Mesh'la. He's had years of practice trawling the galaxy and endless amounts of alone time whilst The Kid is tucked away in his pod, to hone his edging skills so that he lasts, keeping you on his cock for hours and hours until you lose your damn mind and all you see is nebulonic stars. Din doesn't say much, just lets the sounds of his grunts echo through the modulator into your rattled senses. When he eventually cums after having his fill of you, he only utters one groaned word in abject satisfaction: Wizard.
Marcus Moreno - Switch
Naturally there are two sides to Marcus Moreno - Super daddy hero by day, super daddy hero by night. Or both, it doesn't really matter the time. And this also extends into the world of bedroom pleasures as Marcus loves to be the good guy pleasing you and watching with doe eyes as you take what you want; what he'll so eagerly give you through soft hummed smooches and gentle, deep thrusts as you sit in his lap, swollen and full of him. But behind that heroic demeanour lies a villain in wait; itching to get out and play very, very dirty. He'll flip you forward onto your knees and leaning over you as he drives his hard, thick point home, will whisper into your ear you're mine. This pussy is mine. Say it. Tell me whose pussy this is, huh? That's it. That's right. All mine. You fucking know it, baby. Stop squirming, I'm going to fuck my pussy good and hard and you're going to take all of it. Scream for me, baby. I wanna hear you scream my name.
Max Phillips - Sub
Don't be fooled by this vampire's bite. The fuckboi leech is subdued by mere fucking sunlight for Christ's sake. So it's safe to say the moment you whip out your tits, cold and frosty Max Phillips will melt into a puddle of warm, bloody goop at your feet. Yes Sir! Max likes to act tough, to intimidate, to pop his fangs out and feast whenever he likes, but when it comes to your pussy, Max Phillips is, what is it the kids used to say? Ah yes, pwned. Max likes to think he'll bend you over and fuck you on his desk, but it'll be the other way round, trust me, sugartits. You gonna give it to me? Right here? Fuck yes, I want it! Bend over? Oh, okay. Oh, fuck yes… bite me, baby. Yeah. Yeah! Oh you're doing it like a champ! Harder baby, oh fuck yeah!
What a pussy little bloodsucker.
Silva - Sub
There's nothing I can say about Silva other than this handsome cowboy is utterly and irrevocably submissive for his lover. Gentle, slow and pained. Determined, unwavering and sincere in his devotion for the D, Silva's travelled miles across the sweltering country, being constantly chafed by his saddle, just to get some hunk o' lovin'. If that's not the definition of primal submission - or just plain idiocy, that chafe man, s'gotta be a mean one - then I don't know what is. Silva doesn't talk, he just whines, moans and falls apart from every pore as you top that peachy, pert bottom of his, before you pull out and cum all over it. Mmm, peaches n' cream. 🍑
Comandante Veracruz - Switch
Leaning more towards his dominant side, Veracruz pendulums his way into both territories freely, such is the will of a true Guerilla soldier. Of course, he loves nothing more than to wield control through menacing threats and shiny blades pressed against your throat, or thigh. Choking you as he pummels into you and foaming at the lips, licking the sweat from your face and whispering filthy things about your tight, drenched cunt and how it squeezes him so. He's loud. All his men can hear it around the jungle as he grunts and snarls and snorts whilst claiming you. Veracruz confidently wears the dom title like the grenades hanging from his tac vest; a pair of big balls swinging in the breeze. But watch that beast of a man squeak like a timid field mouse when you slide a finger into his tight, puckered hole - which if he were waterboarded, he would vehemently deny he enioys - and lose his shit as he nuts all over himself, only for him to beg that you do it again as you milk the Comandante of all of his aggression. More, querida. ¡Más adentro! No pares… Fuck! You're liking this, aren't you? Mmm. Just you wait… fuck… I'm going to fuck you up after - Shit! I mean it, cariño. Going to fuck your pretty ass like you're fucking mine right now. I will fucking destory that ass! Ohhhh… fuuuuuuck. You're so fucking dead, baby. Mmmm.
Maxwell Lord - Sub
Most people who are dominant in their day job are usually submissive in the bedroom, and Maxwell is no different. Shifting the power dynamic, Maxwell wants to forget the stress of trying to take over the world and falls to his knees as you stroke through those golden honey locks making him shudder. He's a whimpering, quivering mess as the word mommy slips from his lusty lips. Apt that he has mommy issues; men whose mothers love them don't try to annihilate the global population. So, mommy dearest just has to ensure that her good boy Maxwell behaves and flies straight. Please, Mommy. I'll be good for you. Please… Let me have it. Please. Yes. I'm your good boy. Thank you, oh thank you, Mommy. So good. Oh, I'm such a good boy! Mmm…
Javi Gutierrez - Subby AF
Silly old bear Javi G is the subbiest of the subs who have ever subbed. And that's saying something. Look up the words subby little baby in the dictionary and Javi's doofy grinning face is next to it. With those puppy dog eyes, and the fact he would literally jump off a cliff for you, Javi G gets so excited the minute you click your fingers and direct him to your playroom, that he's already cum in his tight, striped speedos on the journey there - twice. Eager for whatever creative punishment you wish to dole out, Javi always wants more until he's on his back sweaty, sore and strung out like he's on LSD. And let's face it, he probably is. That pussy is divine inspiration. Please, I want to experience it all. Will you give it to me and hold nothing back, yes? Yes!... Like that! Oh, dios mio, it's going to be so fucking gooood! Oh shit. Shiiiit! I just came. I know, we haven't started it yet. It's okay, we go again. Yes?
🖤
#jett's pedro boys#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#joel miller#dieter bravo#ezra prospect#francisco catfish morales#marcus pike#marcus moreno#oberyn martell#silva strange way of life#maxwell lord#max phillips#din djarin#the mandalorian#pero tovar#dave york#javier gutierrez#javier peña#comandante veracruz#agent whiskey#jett has spoken#pedro boy rambles#dom sub or switch#that is the question
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Two Halves - Neron 'Creeper' Vargas x Reader
Tagging: @est1887 @anime-weeb-4-life @creativitybeware @mortal--soul @spaghettificationandpretzels @creativitybeware @corruptedcoffin @redpoodlern @oureternalbond @rubes2323 @lexondeck @librarian1002 @thanossexual @justreblogginfics @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @perverteddreamss @adaydreamaway08
There is not a thing that Neron doesn’t love about you. He loves seeing you in his bed, laid out like a fucking dream, a patchwork of scars and tattoos that tell the story of your life. He takes his time to explore them, memorise them with his fingertips and tongue. He learns what makes your breath hitch, what makes you laugh, when to go harder, faster and when to slow it down.
He loves early mornings, hearing you bang around his kitchen trying to find shit. He loves the way you always greet him with a smile, that you are always happy to see him even when you’re distracted.
He loves the way you draw roses, and daisies and sunflowers when you're thinking, doodling different variations of the flowers over and over again until find a solution to the problem you’ve been tackling in your head. He collects each of the napkins you draw on and puts them away in a shoebox at the top of the wardrobe where he keeps his precious things. When you’re not around and he’s feels the darkness starting to creep in, he gets them out and he looks at them, tracing his fingers over each of the designs because they're beautiful and sometimes he needs a reminder that there’s light in the world.
He loves the fact you sing in the shower despite the fact you’re terrible. You’re bold and loud and have no fucking shame and he adores it. You laugh when he joins in, his arms wrapping around your naked form as the heated water rains down on the two of you. After a few minutes the singing usually stops because you’re both too pre-occupied with other things.
He loves the way you hold him at night, his head tucked under you chin so he can hear your heartbeat in your chest. It’s a comforting sound in the depths of the darkness, the press of your bare skin against his as you kiss the top of his head. Sometimes you tell him that you’re terrified this is all a dream, that one morning you’ll wake up to find yourself alone. He kisses away those doubts, his thumb ghosting over the line of your jaw as he reassures you that he’s real, that what the two of you have is everything to him and he’s never going to vanish from your side.
He loves the fact you don’t judge him for his mistakes, the past or the present. He doesn’t want to scare you off, to burst this perfect bubble that the two of you have created. It’s impossible you tell him, to get everything right the first time. You’re both human, you’re both learning to love again, so long as you're open with each other and honest you’ll work through it. He finds being with you surprisingly easy. He was on his own for a long time, his only intimacies transactional, to find someone that actually cares for him and not what they can get from him is a blessing.
You fit into his life as if you were always meant to be there. He enjoys cooking for you while you draw up designs for your customers on the kitchen table. He loves the expression on your face as you focus on the flow of the design, the flourish of it. Your brows furrow when you concentrate, you pout just a little when things get tricky and it is the cutest fucking thing.
He calls you Nena.
It means babe, the only term of endearment he knows with his mix of Spanglish.
He loves the way you eat ice cream on the couch, spoon pressed against your lips as the two of you curl up under a blanket and watch ‘Escape to the Chateau’. He does not understand how it became his favourite show, only that he loves how fucking judgemental you get when someone starts to try preserving antique glass by bashing the frame around it with a hammer.
He loves the way you give without an expectation of return. To him, your business, to the kids at the community centre. Sometimes he worries you’ll have nothing left for yourself. He tries to speak to you about it, about overstretching yourself but there’s no stopping you. You’re a force of nature, a relentless storm trying to do everything you can to ease the burden of those around you.
When it all gets too much he’s there, a port in the middle of a restless ocean because you are only one woman, and you can only do so much. The thing about Neron is he grounds you; he keeps you on your feet when the realities of the world are too harsh to deal with, he never says ‘I told you so’. He’s always there, holding you up, supporting you and despite how fiercely independent you are, you need it. You need him. You’re cut from the same cloth you and him, two halves of the same soul.
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idk if i sent this in last night with my other ask. i was quite sleep deprived n delusional so ignore the other one if i did please 😭 but how about the boys with a mixed!reader? (this is so self indulgent i’m so sorry omg)
this has been established but rafe would absolutely mock me when my accent sneaks in, is worse when i didn’t even notice it in the first place. gets real mean when i roll my eyes and huff n cross my arms while he’s lecturing me on my “behavior issues”. hates it when i play spanish music in his truck bc he doesn’t understand it, but i smack his hand every time he tries to turn Selena off (bc wtf are you doing?? i’m serenading you rn!!). totally smacks me back. hates it even more when i’m speaking spanish on the phone in front of him bc he SWEARS im talking shit (and what if i am?). jokes and asks if he can have “half an n-word card” and gets threatened with bodily harm. tells everyone about his “exotic” gf like bro i’m from cali 😭, but gets annoyed for me when people ask “what are you??”. says “span-glish” instead of “spang-lish” and ignores me when i correct him. he doesn’t ever wanna dance with me but eats it up when i dance on him.
jj also mocks me but is silly asf about it. like i’ll be minding my own business, mumbling in spanish and he comes up behind me and starts muttering gibberish. always asks me to cook bc “baby i just wanna taste your flavor and spice 🥺”. has a love/hate relationship with the attitude. gets a boner whenever i cuss him out in spanish, but also tugs at a few braids whenever the huffs and eye rolls get nasty. cannot stand when i throw a fit, bc either i’m getting what i want or we’re tussling right here!!! right NEOW!!! people always tell me how sweet i am and i fear he would always respond with “only when she wants to be”. walks around shiny asf smelling like vicks whenever he complains about something hurting bc my baby isn’t gonna get sick on my watch. however, when he inevitably gets sick bc he didn’t listen when i told him to put on socks or to dry his hair before bed, i make him drink up every potion and elixir i can think of.
pope and i would have conversations about colorism, and then talk shit about how kelce is the token black friend and whitewashed in the same breath. he’d see how i struggled while doing the back of my head sometimes and make me teach him how to braid so he can help. he’s a quick learner and eventually whenever someone asks “who did your hair? 😍” the answer is always “MY MANNNN!!!”. researches the best hair products for me and pouts whenever i try to do it myself. also walks around looking shiny but it’s shea butter instead of vicks bc we moisturize round these parts. no ashy knees on my watch!! picks up spanish so he can get in good with my mom and grandma. our dads would totally get along, so they go bond over whatever it is old black men bond over while we run around doing fuckshit with the gang. my dad 100% tells him not to let me punk him (spoiler! he gets punked a lot!!! doesn’t mind bc he loves me)
john b would also help with my hair, but mostly the detangling part (it takes forever at first bc he’s scared of tugging). says he loves my hair n says i should leave it down more often (it’s wild n frizzy bc of the heat n humidity), and doesn’t understand when i say it’s not supposed to look like that ):. doesn’t really mind the attitude as long as it isn’t directed towards him and it’s nothing too crazy. will pinch me in public with a “fix your face”. quickly learns that “calm down” translates to “shut up”. also learns that i really don’t like being told to shut up, so his response to hissy fits is to throw me over his shoulder and deal with me in the car 😓. picks up a little spanglish, makes me teach him the right pronunciations bc he’s not tryna look like an idiot in front of the fam. him and my dad look at each other confused while my mom, grandma, and i are cracking jokes in spanish (he doesn’t know what’s going right now either babe). the fam loves him bc he helps with the heavy lifting around the house, and that boy will eat whatever they put in front of him. almost cries when grandma calls him “mijo”.
sorry if this was a lot lmao, apparently the creative juices flow best at 6am after an all-nighter <3
bye I really don't have much to add because you really nailed it!!! like LOL writing them with woc is always so funny in ways that it shouldn't be
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first of all, i love you?????? like i just recently found your blog and oh my god????? HISPANIC READER????? as a fellow Mexican it makes me so happy :’). i’ve had this idea in the back of my mind for a hot minute now but like, hispanic! reader teaching Eddie how to dance bachata (any latin rhythm for that matter) or the two of them dancing at a family reunion while Eddie is super flustered cause he’s not a big dancer himself but you’re there to help him out. LIKE IMAGINE HER FAMILY JUST BEING LIKE “ay estos dos van a terminar casados” y se ponen en plan tipo “que empalagosos son” HSKKSKSKS sorry for the Spanglish, sometimes my brain doesn’t work properly
Ily too!!😩💓I think we all need to thank the first anon who requested a Hispanic/latina/Mexican reader. I would’ve never thought many people would read it. I hope you enjoy it :).
Au in which Eddie survived
Bachata Rosa
Eddie Munson x Hispanic! gn! Reader
—
Eddie couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the way your body moves to the rhythm of the music that is playing from your small radio. He could stare at you for hours just watching you, he’s positive that if he were to try it he’d end up making a fool out of himself. Although you wouldn’t tell him that, instead you’d praise him saying ‘good job babe, you’re getting better’ or ‘you’ll soon be better than me’.
He sat on a chair that was placed in front of your garage as you and your cousins practiced dancing for you aunt’s wedding. It wasn’t that you needed to practice dancing it was more of an excuse to hang out and get to know him better.
“Eddie, are you a good dancer?” Your cousin, Cassandra asked.
He was so fixated on you that he didn’t notice the music had stopped. “Do I, w-what?” He stuttered as specks of pink found their way on his face.
It was followed by a chorus of ‘ooh’s as some of your cousins elbowed each other. You stood near the cooler filled with ice and drinks with a blush splattered across your own cheeks. It wasn’t hard for anyone to understand why Eddie didn’t pay attention. You will be getting teased for it endlessly.
“I asked if you were a good dancer.” She said with a small laugh.
“Oh no I uh… I don’t dance.” He answered truthfully as he fidgeted with his fingers.
Gasps were heard which made him feel out of place. He loves music, that much is clear but it isn’t one to dance to. It’s not that he doesn’t want to learn, he just never got the chance.
“Y/n, i can’t believe you never taught your boyfriend to dance.” Your younger cousin exclaimed.
“The opportunity just never came up, I didn’t want to force it on him.” It was true, whenever your favorite song played through your Walkman all you could think about was dancing to it with Eddie. Yet you always kept those thoughts to yourself, Eddie isn’t one to do cliché things. Yet it doesn’t bother you, there isn’t anything about him that you would change. Not even when you had to ask him out to prom back in your senior year of high school. He was reluctant at first but gave in after a while, even then, he didn’t fully danced. Simply moved his arms to the rhythm and attempted to get his feet to follow yours.
Luckily, nobody added more to the conversation. Instead you talked about what outfit to wear for the wedding and when will you guys arrive. You were now sitting next to Eddie as he played with your hair you tried to pay attention to the conversation. But the more he played with your hair, the more sleepy you got. It was late afternoon and the sunset painted pretty colors on the sky. Signaling the end of the day and a reminder that everyone will leave to their own houses.
It was now nine and Eddie was the last person that had to leave. The two of you were now sitting on the small green couch that was placed in your living room. The rest of your family was either in their rooms or in the kitchen, allowing the two of you privacy to talk about anything and nothing at the same time.
A comfortable silence accompanied you both until Eddie spoke up. “You know you could uh, teach me some of those dance moves you were doing earlier.”
You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before answering, “Ed, we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“No I- I want to. Wouldn’t want you to not have a dancing partner during the wedding.” He replied with a toothy grin as he leaned towards you as he spoke.
“Well, the wedding is in two weeks. I could teach you the basics…if you want.” You said as you looked into his eyes that held so much joy.
“Alright, tomorrow me and you baby. We’ll get grooving.” He said as he stood up.
“Nobody says that anymore Ed.” You laughed as you also stood up.
“Sure they do. Ok tomorrow, after practice, I’ll come down and you could uh teach me… the basics.” He was now standing next to the doorway with his left hand holding the door knob.
“I’ll be waiting.” You said with a smile. He also gave you one as well while opening the door. He got out and turned to look back at you, neither one moved. Just wanting to spend as much time together as you could. Despite that, he leaned down to give your cheek a kiss.
“Goodnight sweetheart.”
“Goodnight Eddie.”
—
Practice was running longer than usual and it was all because of a certain curly headed who kept on getting distracted and wouldn’t hit the notes at the right time.
“Dude come on Eddie, this the third time that we have to start all over.” Gareth exclaimed as he hit his drumsticks together to show his annoyance. “If we keep this up I’ll be late for dinner, and you don’t want to see my mom angry.”
If it were any other day he wouldn’t want to mess with the master of dungeons. But today was a normal day and he didn’t have to worry about it.
“Sorry, guys sorry it’s just…ugh I’m so excited. I’m going over to y/n’s house and they’ll teach me some dance moves for their aunts weddings. I’ve never danced with anyone… I feel, ecstatic.”
After hearing his confession they all felt their scowls leave their face.
“Wait, I thought you said you danced with them back at prom…?” Jeff asked
“No… well I mean yeah. Sorta. It was more of me moving my arms…” he said as he moved them for emphasis. “…and I tried to move to the rhythm but most of the time I just stood by watching them have fun.” He couldn’t help but sigh, at the end of the party you told him it was fun yet he felt as if you were lying. It didn’t make sense how you could say you had fun with him if he didn’t dance with you, not the way you deserved at least.
“So are you just going to…keep them waiting?” The other band mate asked.
Shit, he didn’t think about it that way. What if you thought he forgot? Or that he chickened out? You knew by now about just short attentions spasm and you always were very understanding of it but what if now it’ll be different? What if you want to break-
“Go to them Eddie, we can practice another day.” Jeff spoke once more.
Without needing to hear anything else Eddie took off running to his van. He was in such a rush that he didn’t notice his guitar still attached to him. Carefully, he lifted it up and set in on the back of the van. It was his most prized possession and he didn’t want any scratches on it. He drove a little past the speed limit (he didn’t want to get in a car crash or for you to see him driving this fast and scold him for it). It wasn’t until he reached your neighborhood that he saw you open the garage that he let out a sigh of relief and slowed down the van.
“Sorry sweetheart, I would’ve came sooner but… practice ran longer than usual.” He jogged towards you to help you lift up the garage door.
“Don’t worry Eddie, I was helping my mom around the house. My brothers didn’t bother helping so we finished not so long ago.” You responded with a shrug of your shoulders as you set down the radio on the small table that was taking up space near the wall.
“You ready?” You asked as you stood next to him.
“Yeah, let’s do it.” He exclaimed with a fist in the air. Even if he attempted to sound confident, his body language told you otherwise. He kept on bouncing his leg and chewing on his lip.
“Eddie I don’t want you to feel like… I’m forcing this on you, if you don’t want-.” You started speaking as you went to stand in front of him and place a hand on his shoulder. Something that you often did when he was nervous.
“No, no no I want to. I really do… I-I want to learn more about your culture.” He spoke with sincerity as he clasped his hands on your face.
Smiling, you looked up at him as you placed your own hands on top of his. “Ok then, let’s do it.” You took a step back and turned on your radio, landing on Juan Luis Guerra’s new song, Bachata Rosa.
As the two of you spend the day dancing and laughing, Eddie felt as if he was falling for you all over again. He tried to focus but each time you looked at him with so much affection he just got lost in your eyes. Causing him to stumble or step on you.
Days passed by and there was one day left for the wedding. You were proud to admit that you were a pretty good dance teacher. It was hard at first, but Eddie no longer needed you to tell him what to do. He still makes jokes about how sexual the dance is and the way you move against him. You can still hear his voice “Jesus H. Christ babe, I’m trying to dance not…mate with you.” Hearing him say those words caused you to turn red and miss a couple of steps.
“Is Eddie ready for the wedding?” It was the first thing your mom had asked you as you woke up.
“Yeah, he got the steps down.” You said as you walked up to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“How do you think your dad will react?” She asked as she handed you a plate for you to serve yourself some chilaquiles.
The question caught you off guard, that you didn’t think of. “He’ll probably get really mad.” You chuckled softly, “let’s hope he’s drunk when and if he decides to dance in front of everyone.”
The conversation changed shortly after but your mind kept on playing different scenarios in your head. Regarding your family’s reaction, especially your dad’s and brother’s.
—
It was now the day of the wedding, everything was perfect. Eddie was able to go to the church ceremony earlier that day. You could tell he felt a little out of place, it was his first time going to a proper one. But you stayed by his side and held his hand, it helped to calm him down although he could still feel your dad glaring holes on his head.
The venue was spacious, a clear sign that there will be a lot of guests. Your mom was the one who chose the table, claiming that she wanted one with the best centerpiece. One that either you or your siblings will be forced to take.
As family members came to the venue, you would all get up and greet them. Using this as an opportunity to introduce Eddie to them. Your younger cousins seem to love him, they thought his clothing was cool as well as his tattoos. Whatever worries Eddie had prior to this seemed to have vanished into thin air. The food was fantastic and the music was great as well.
The DJ played some songs in Spanish and English, allowing everyone the opportunity to dance. Eddie even got dragged by some of your aunts to dance with them, some danced English songs while others did merengue. It wasn’t until bachata started playing that all of the couples got up and walked over to the dance floor.
“May I have this dance?.” Eddie spoke as he held out his hand for you to take. He had a toothy grin on his face and you just knew he was excited to show everyone the dance moves you taught him weeks prior.
You took his hand and walked over to the dance floor. The two of you started to dance at arms length before gradually getting closer. As the two of you moved to the rhythm it felt as if the whole world had disappeared. The both of you attempted to not get too close, not wanting to make any family members uncomfortable. After giving you a few spins he pulled you once more closer to him to place a chaste kiss on your cheek.
“You’ll have to translate me the song later and…teach me a new dance.” He spoke softly against your ear.
“If you keep this up, you’ll be the future chambelán for Sara’s quinceañera.” You told him with a giggle.
“Lisa hasn’t thrown the bouquet yet but we already know who will be getting married next. Right Enrique?” Your aunt exclaimed happily to your dad.
“No, they’re never getting married.” He replied while chugging the rest of his beer.
“Ojalá se casen pronto, uno nunca sabe cuándo será mi ultimo día.” Your grandma spoke as she watched you on the dance floor.
“¡Mamá, no diga eso!” Your dad said but aside from his voice sounding mad, he pulled her to a side hug. As much as he pretended to hate the idea of you forming your own family. His heart swelled with joy as he saw how happy Eddie made you.
🏷: @hellomyweirdos @lubsana @satsuri3su @n39ro-chann @kenzi-woycehoski
#sad-brunnettee#stranger things#eddie munson x latina!reader#eddie munson x female reader#Eddie Munson x Hispanic! reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#request
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ok so I'm going to another of tricky asks below - prob just skip since I can tell I'm repeating myself a lot lol
if I hadn't gotten asks about it I wouldn't have known that a subsection of dando people were as serious as they were which is… odd to me. I totally get shipping dando for fun and that Daniel and Lando are buddies but. why pick the guy who's friends with everyone he meets and pretend that is the guy Lando's "secretly in love with" or that they're "more" friends than Lando's other friends... just bc they hang sometimes kasgfkaglh
I've got to stop trying to find any sense in rpf truthers.
but yea Lando and Martin are so sweet together and I hope Martin doesn't have to deal w any of this bullshit in his comments. guy is just enjoying traveling with Lando and vice versa.
(no worries anon I got your intent!)
honestly from a straight up racing perspective it's enough evidence in itself. the fact that Lando has repeatedly said how well Oscar suits McLaren and is pushing him to be his absolute best is all anyone should need.
but also look at the standings! Carlos and Charles, Lando and Oscar - they're doing amazingly well with the current partnerships !! it's why Carlos is so eager to remain where he is, he's already in the best place for him to get not just another race win but a shot at WDC. Lando and Oscar are a natural part of the McLaren youth legacy and Max has pipped them as being his biggest potential headaches in 2024 lol. everything is good and we still get plenty of car|ando content so let's leave it alone!
oh babe I'm sorry that was misleading there's no extensive drama (that I know of) back when I started following Lando content I noticed that the LN4 account (mainly the twitter one) is run by people who get waaaayyyy too into pushing rpf ships for my comfort. I'm massively against containment breaches between fandom to official accounts.
if other ppl enjoy it then it's their choice but it's not my cup of tea!
honestly this is just how it's going to be from here on out. Liberty Media and Netflix already have relationships with certain podcasts and social media accounts and "bromances" are an easy way to get merch, subscriptions and tickets sold. as a sort of fake fan myself I rly can't be on any high horse about "real fans" lol but I do at least keep all my silly shit on tumblr and ao3 alone.
block and unfollow like crazy, anon. eventually your algorithm will learn like mine has!
when has Lando never not been fun ??? he did the screechy laugh Spanglish fun with Carlos, the doofy fake gay fun with Daniel and now he's gen z funny w Oscar whennnn did Lando ever stop being fun oml
babe it wasn't even that, he was replying to the millionth person asking about his and Esteban's lack of personal friendship and he said that no one should assume a friendship between two drivers. he never said "Charles and Carlos hate each other" agflaslfsa as if F1 media wouldn't be all over that
-----
ok so there were two others that I'm not going to screenap bc I do NOT want the heat for those opinions lol.
to answer without being too specific: everyone knows how I feel about people who invent conspiracy theories about girlfriends and wowwww that is a leap. and yea shouldn't the fact that they both went offline when we knew them to be alone together at his ranch actually be evidence that they're really in love and not needing to broadcast it ?? that he only pops back up when he's hanging out w guy friends?
I will have a good laugh that ppl managed to leap to not only them having broken up in the past week with zero evidence but that Lando suddenly hopped a plane to "comfort him" and finally be a gay couple jesussss
ok guys this is as much time as I can stomach knowing about this side of fandom for a good while.
remember: block, blacklist, gatekeep, stay safe out there xx
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Main babe #2 Cordelia Vance
Cordelia Vance, otherwise known as Delia, otherwise known as my final girl
is cis and uses she/her
is bisexual and biromantic
is Mexican-American, raised by her Puerto Rican step-father, Todd and speaks Spanglish fluently
her bio dad is a piece of shit who remembers he has a daughter maybe every three years, Delia hates his guts but still talks to him
dresses in the pink, preppy outfit and that is her main style, mostly plaid pants instead of skirts though
her only weapon is the omen bracelet cuz I had no diamonds, never takes it off, even to shower or sleep
her main LI is Tom Sato (pursues him aggressively but only has real feelings sock her in the face during the Lake Day festival)
feels awful for Josephine and wishes she could have been released more peacefully, especially since she felt a kindred spirit in her grandma
loves Elliot so much and is too willing to burn the world down for him
saved everyone, even Parker and her grandpa
Got kidnapped by Loha, which was beyond rude and she will always hold resentment for it
is besties with Reina and Jeremy
gets along best with Lincoln of the ILW crew
and is cool with the ilitw crew but is coolest with Ava
Fun Facts:
has severe anger issues (has gotten into multiple fights, tried to hit a girl in the head with a chair for saying Delia cheated off her test, punched multiple people in the face for leering/catcalling at her, got arrested for keying her cheating ex’s car...and popping a tire)
has never served time
gets violently irritated at little things, a former issue that only grew worse after both Power incidents
is now a kickboxer to vent her numerous issues
nearly got sent to live with a friend of her mom’s due to worry over Elliot’s safety which horrified Delia and got her to at least pretend to reel in her anger
was a track/soccer star in high school, but not popular due to other people’s fear
views horror movies as comedies, but watches sci-fi and actual comedies for Tom who does not find horror humorous or comforting
takes a lot of night swims in Pine Springs, cannot drown for reasons unknown (and maybe develops cool water powers)
favorite color is pink and favorite flower is daisies
makes bitchin’ flower crowns every spring
went to college to work in radio, more the tech side and loves it
found a group of zombie bunnies, bears, and elk in a patch of land near the lake and ropes Reina and Jeremy into making a semi-petting zoo
Thumper the Zombunny lives on and off with her or Elliot
@ila-appreciationweek
#ilaw#ilb mc#my final girl!!#i actually have her in some horror movie verses and she is the final girl in all of them#oc: cordelia vance
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i literally dk how to request for this but hi... the 1.3k event <3 magnolia...
my personality rlly changes a lot but typically im very loud and playfully mean + flirty, it rlly differs. i am super affectionate for sure, physically, the type of person to just constantly be on top of their friends. i like to think im funny and love the thrill of taking risks or whatever. i wouldnt typically be afraid to defend my friends or fam if anybody were to come at them or whatever. i get annoyed easily tbh but i dont express it, jus keep it to myself. when i do go out cursing anyone out or im mad i tend to jus start speaking spanglish which is silly
my interests include reading, writing, i love doing my make up, my clothing style rlly differs a lot but atm im very into the y2k style <3. i loooove everything disney, esp rapunzel. i love singing, am the person who randomly starts singing during calls, but in no way good at it, just good fun. i love rock nd pop music, but my music taste also is very expandsble???
fandom ,, spiderverse... its my main interest rn but im also cool with the hunger games. my gender pref is male <3
spiderverse — HOBIE??!?!?! he'd be perfect for u babe
thg — tbh. haymitch was my first thought??
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HEY ITS ME AGAIN! THE CRAZY ANON ! WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY "APOLOGIZE IN ADVANCE"???? WHAT IS GOING ON IN THAT EVIL MIND OF YOURS? LOOK HERE IF YOU COME WITH MORE OF THAT AND USE HOZIER AGAIN YOU WILL PAY FOR MY THERAPY DID YOU HEAR ME!!!! Also u say u are latina so do you speak spanish or portuguese br? Cause i'm latina too, brazilian!
Hand over the therapy bill babes because Hozier is going to be used gratuitously soon. In very painful ways. All I have to say is we've got some time. Chapter six is when shit basically goes downhill, but I've got about two interludes before then, plus the chapters. All I will say is............I'm sorry.
Ayee!! Yes I am!! I can understand Spanish and speak it in a rusty choppy spanglish way, but I'm working on getting better at being fluent!
#witch aunt responds#anon darling✨#also yes don't worry the fic will be happier in chapter 4#i swear
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Miguel O’Hara Headcanons
(from a bitch who hasn’t seen the movie or read a single piece of source material on him)
18+ MINORS DNI
SFW:
Rarely cooks for himself because he’s always on the go, but when he does find the time to whip up a meal, it’s always the best thing you’ve ever tasted.
Dry sense of humor, but will crack a smile (and sometimes even a laugh) despite himself at your puns/jokes/general silliness
Stubborn as all hell. Will fight tooth and nail with you over the dumbest shit just because he’s so obstinate.
Speaking of stubborn, good luck getting this man to admit he was wrong. You could draft a whole essay in MLA format with a PowerPoint presentation on why, in fact, he’s completely wrong and he’ll still look you dead in your eyes and say “That proves nothing. I’m right.” Sir, no you are not, let me count the ways.
Don’t let that deter you though! He apologizes for his stubbornness in other ways—whether it’s a bouquet of your favorite flowers or bringing you coffee in the morning, he’s a man of action, not words.
Stoic and standoffish when you first meet him. It takes him a little while to soften, and there’s a big part of him that wants to cave, to break down those walls and open himself back up, but he fights it every time. Despite that, he craves softness and warmth, so when you come along to give it to him in droves, it’s a losing battle for him to keep you at arm’s length
Once those walls are down it’s like night and day. He’s handsy, can’t keep them to himself. He’s always gotta be touching you in some capacity if only to remind himself that you’re real and he needs to cherish every moment he gets with you because he knows better than most how quickly things can change.
Will always make time for you. Doesn’t matter the time of day or night, doesn’t matter what he’s doing, you call and he’s on his way.
Uses all sorts of pet names on you in English and Spanish. Mi cielo (my heaven/sky), mi alma (my soul), chula (cutie), reinita (little queen), mi amor (my love), babe/baby, angel, sweetheart, sunshine, and bunny to name a few. If it’s sweet and makes you fluster, he’s all for it.
Speaks Spanglish a lot, especially when he’s mad. Will switch between both so fast you can hardly keep up, and he’ll stop mid-rant and give you a sheepish smile, shrugging his shoulders. “My mouth has a mind of its own, bonita. Lo siento.”
Calls you often when the two of you are apart. Can’t end his night without hearing your voice. No matter where he is, you can guarantee your phone will ring right before you fall asleep every single night. He always says he’s just calling you to say goodnight, but then the pair of you end up talking for hours. Not that you mind, the lack of sleep is worth it.
NSFW UNDER THE CUT
Oscillates between a hard and soft dom depending on the day he’s had or the mood he’s in, but regardless of that, he’s always the top.
Eats for his pleasure. When his face is buried between your thighs, it’s not about you, it’s about him and he’ll eat until he’s satisfied, regardless of how desperately you try to shove him off. “Nuh uh, mami, m’not finished yet. Lay back and take it, huh? Be a good girl and let me have my fill. Tastes too damn good.”
Grunts and growls most of the time, but when he’s feeling softer that man 100% whimpers.
A vocal lover—he likes to taunt and tease you, overwhelms you with praise, forces you to answer his questions even in the midst of your fuzzy-headed bliss. “Speak up, princessa. I asked you if you can feel me deep up in that belly. Yeah? There we go. That’s my girl.”
His favorite positions to fuck you in tend to alternate, but he’s a big fan of doggy with his hand around your throat while you’re on your knees with your back to his chest, mainly because it allows him to sink his teeth into your neck and speak absolute filth in your ear. Missionary or a full blown mating press and prone bone are others he enjoys. Also likes to pound into you from below when you ride him—again, this man is all about control so even when you think you have the upper hand, you don’t.
Big on marking you—with his fangs or otherwise. When you ask him to bite you for the first time he goes absolutely feral, fucks you so hard you can’t walk right or sit down for a week, your chest, neck, and back littered with bruises, bite marks, and a prominent puncture wound at the hollow of your throat.
Stamina for days. My guy could spend hours on end fucking you into the mattress and he does every single time. There are no quickies with Miguel—when he makes time for you, he makes time. Will clear out an entire day and dedicate it solely to taking you apart and piecing you back together just so he can do it all over again. “One more round, baby. C’mon, need it. You’re not gonna deprive me, are you? Nah—you know better. Open up for me, chula, just like that.”
Big breeder balls. (Sorry, I don’t make the rules.) My boy will stuff you so fucking full. Practically cums buckets and loves to watch it ooze out of your abused little hole when he’s finished pumping several loads inside you. “Lookit that, huh? Ese pequeño coño está lleno, ¿no?” (That little cunt is stuffed full, isn’t it?)
#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara smut#spiderverse imagine#miguel o’hara imagine#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara x you
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BABE ABOUT THE LANGUAGE THING SAMEEEEE, i’m in this god awful mix of spanglish that even i can’t understand 😩
No because fr it’s making me feel just dumb 😭I just can’t communicate
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Heat Chapter 29: Brazen
So this chapter’s been a doozy to write. Not quite sure why, but I bent my rule and decided to post it, even though I don’t have the proceeding chapters as fleshed out as I’d like yet. But this is a supersized chapter, so hopefully it’ll make up for the delays! Special thanks to everyone who’s commented and DM’d words of encouragement. They’re incredibly appreciated!
Pairing: Javier Peña x OFC | Javi x Querida
Disclaimer: Written in 2nd person narrative, you can safely assume our heroine and love/lust interest is a Latina, written by a Latina. Here's my philosophy on my writing, for further context.
Rating: Mature/Explicit 🔞
Word Count: 21,000+
Summary: You find yourself yearning for the life you and Javi have mentioned wanting to build together, but will the looming threat of his work eclipsing your plans take a toll on your fragile bliss you both have built together?
Warnings: Javier Peña being the best BAE. Graphic descriptions of sex, including explicit depictions of oral (m+f receiving) and unprotected sex. Mentions of past sexual encounters, including unconventional sexual acts, underaged sex, and Lolita behavior. Descriptions of dom/sub play, cum play, anal play, frottage, size kink, praise kink, rough sex, spanking kink, and dirty talk. Allusions to hurt/comfort, lust and yearning, and challenges to gender roles. Some Dom!Javi, Sub!Javi, Sub!Reader, Possessive!Javi. In the vein of Narcos being a bilingual show, and Javier Peña being fluent, I felt it was apropos to include Spanglish and Spanish throughout.
Heat Masterlist
Previous chapter - Chapter 28: Safe
Chapter 29: Brazen
The alarm going off is like a betrayal from some baked in dream of being able to prolong the serenity you've been in for the last couple of days, so you roll over and sullenly shut the blare off. Your sulky huff turns into a silly sigh when a warm, muscular arm wraps you up at the waist and tows you back under the covers. Any angst of having to wake up and go back to the reality of your hectic day-to-day in the capital dissolves into glee when Javi drowsily snuggles his face into the crook of your neck and grumbles wordlessly before nosing into your hairline. Threading your hand in the back of his mussed locks, you deliberately fidget under him, rubbing your lower half into his and enjoying how the hard ridge of his morning wood twitches and strains interestedly against you.
"That was your wake-up call, sir," you impishly drawl, grinning when he grumbles crankily and stubbornly shifts to be between your legs so you can't keep instigating him. "Babe, you said you had to leave early—"
"Five more minutes," he mumbles into your neck and presses his pelvis cheekily into yours. At your scoff, he becomes deadweight over you, enjoying how you mischievously paw down his back and grab his pajama-bottom-clad ass. "Quit it," is his muffled rumble before he nips playfully at your neck.
Scoffing, you start to wriggle under him, but can't budge him this way. You hiss from the sharp tension that winces through your sore muscles when you try and pivot your hips to buck him off. Huffing, you lightly drag your nails up his back, and Javi shivers, humming enticingly.
His warm body and nuzzling kisses are turning you on, but you can't deny how tender you are after the weekend of salacious lovemaking. So, you turn your head to nuzzle into the side of his neck, nosing into his hair and sighing, "C'mon, you sexy gruñón. You have to get up."
Grunting, Javi rolls off of you and shrugs the covers back before stretching lazily and smothering a yawn into his shoulder. "Alright…I'm up," he sulks as he scrubs at his eyes before rubbing his stubble covered cheeks and jaw.
He makes for quite a sight, stretched out like he is, with his college shirt riding up his midriff and the carved contour of his hips peeking out from how low his pajama pants are riding. And the bulge of his hard-on tenting the crotch of the cotton sleep trousers has you internally fawning.
Javi is about to begrudgingly shuffle grumpily to sit up in bed when you firmly shove him down onto his back and surprise him by straddling the tops of his thighs so you can run one hand up his shirt to caress his chest while the other shifts the loose waistband of his bottoms further down to free his erection.
"Mmm, preciosa," he husks in a gravelly tone, eyes half-lidding with arousal and expression flushing as you trace your thumb over his nipple while you teasingly palm and toy with his cock. "Hnng, fuck. I g-gotta have you—" he hisses when you thwart him from pulling you close by keeping the hand on his chest firm while you fist his cock now.
"No. I need to get you off so you're not wound up and grumpy all day," you chide sultrily and lightly rake your nails down his chest, which has him arching and groaning. "I didn't get to finish what I'd started the other night, and I want you to come in my mouth—"
"Jesus Christ," he hoarsely groans, bucking into your hand. "Fuck, baby. You want that?" he grouses in a rough hum, cock pulsing in your hand as your nails continue raking lightly over his abs and down to his apex.
"Mmhmm," you chime softly before leaning down to lick his exposed stomach, which has him gripping the sheets and gasping in excitement. "Now lie back and be good for me."
Javi lights up at the command, and you reward him by mouthing a luscious path down his warm skin before swiping your tongue over his flushed tip. You hum, savoring his velvety, delicate skin and enjoying the tangy musk of his heady scent when you teasingly nuzzle into his pubic bone. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth to smother the moan that blazes up his throat when you suckle a rough kiss into the side of his cock before pursing your lips over it and sucking it greedily into your mouth. When your free hand cups his warm sac and gives it a caress before lightly squeezing, Javi stammers gruffly, "Ah-mmph-fuck me, fuck yes—!" and dissolves into a drawn out hum of salacious wonder at you laving the underside of his cock with your tongue.
You work Javi into a quick tizzy with your talented tongue and hungry mouth, and when you moan around the thick of him, you stoke something scintillating to flare in him as you hollow your cheeks out around his cock and stroke the tight clench of your fist down to his base.
His face is burning with his blush while he writhes under your ministrations, so when you shift up enough to let his cock pop wetly from your mouth and pin him in your gaze, Javi feels heat flush his ears and rise to his taut skin across his broad chest as you let your warm saliva drip to coat him before laving a sinful lick that pillows the head of his cock on your tongue.
"Holy fucking shit," he hisses, enthralled from how filthily glorious the sight is as it coils need in his loins and pulses his dick to strain for more. With his cock lubed in your saliva now, you give him more by stroking and toying it into your mouth before widening your jaw to stuff his length as far as he can go before you lose your breath.
A tremulous sound gets muffled, thanks to your gag reflex clenching at him brushing the back of your throat. Javi whines a husky sound and ruts up into your mouth, allowing your slickened fingers to access his tight ring of muscle. Your fingertips make contact with it and rub teasingly, which snaps something needy loose from Javi and untangles instant pleasure. "Fuck!" he shouts as he climaxes, filling your mouth with salty spurts of cum while he brokenly gasps and spasms from you prolonging his pleasure with the want of your mouth. "—Fuck-fuck-fuck," he stammers as he squirms and succumbs to the delirium of getting amazing head from you and some surprise stimuli he didn't know could feel so exhilarating.
You swallow his load and make sure not to miss a bead before you let his cock slip free from your mouth on a reedy gasp. The way your sore cunt aches to be filled has you wishing you could ride him – aching muscles be damned. But as you rub your thighs together to get some relief, it keeps you from getting distracted by your need so you can instead sit up and gaze in satisfaction down at how wrecked Javi is before you. His features are flushed, lips damp and parted, and his brawny arms are tossed at his sides while he stares in dazed wonder at you.
With a beatific smile, you adjust the waistband of his bottoms back up and relish how he collects himself while he dimly stays sprawled out on his back working to catch his ragged breath.
"Alright, I'm gonna make breakfast, so start getting up. You'll have enough time for a quick shower," you declare cheerily, voice a bit raspy now, as you lean down and peck him on his stubbly cheek before nimbly scampering off the bed to skip vivaciously down the hall. The sound of the bathroom sink cutting on as you merrily brush your teeth and wash your face echoes from the hallway while Javi remains sensually blitzed out on the bed.
Javier just lies there with a dopey look plastered over his overly satiated features for a few more seconds before his pillowy lips pull into an awe-drawn smile. What a fucking woman…
After taking a long drink of water from your glass, you pleasantly start humming to yourself as you butter the pan for the quick scrambled eggs you plan to make. You're just dispersing the shredded pieces of ham to sear a bit before pouring the whisked eggs in when your hearing picks up Javi's bare feet padding down the hall towards you.
With an innocent lilt, you call out, "Do you want butter on your toast?"
Instead of answering, Javi prowls up behind you and brushes an open-mouth kiss to the sloping juncture that connects shoulder to neck before grazing his teeth over it. Your breath hitches when he lightly bites and worries the flesh between his teeth while his hand sweeps possessively up to fondle a breast over your shirt. The other snakes slowly down the front of your loose bottoms and rubs his cupped fingers along your wet, aching cunt.
"I want this on my tongue," he grouses coarsely against your neck, stirring your lust to cloy warmth into the chalice of your core. Goosebumps raze up your skin as his warm breath precedes the press of his hot mouth over that spot just under your ear that makes you weak in the knees.
But, with ridiculous conviction, you turn your head to affectionately nudge his away and hiss, "My pussy is on sabbatical right now thanks to the exquisite railing-fest the last couple of days. Now go get ready before you're late and I burn these eggs, chavón."
His talented fingers skim up and out of your bottoms while he sulkily groans as he noses into the hair right above your ear. "Shit, I'm sorry, tiernita," he husks and kisses you sweetly on the temple, then hugs you tenderly. You lean back into him with a serene smile. "Pobrecita needed a time-out," Javi teases before licking his fingers clean of your slick and grinning when you scoff and elbow him away sassily.
"Go, now, or I'll give you an indefinite time-out," you threaten snippily, eyes warm with affection as he backpedals out of the kitchen and towards the bathroom.
"Not a lot of butter on the toast!" he calls out before sauntering in and shutting the door, which makes you snicker and shake your head as you tend to the eggs in the pan.
By the time he's exiting the bathroom, freshly showered and shaved, the food is piping hot on the kitchen table. He lopes into the bedroom and finds you there, emptying your travel bags and separating out clean clothes from the dirty ones you toss into the laundry hamper. There's a fresh dress shirt from the closet draped on the bed along with his gray suit and a blue jacquard-patterned tie set out for him. And you're out of your pajamas and in your slinky robe, humming to yourself.
You shoot him a flirty look when he confidently tosses his towel aside and starts getting dressed, pulling on a pair of undies before slipping into the dress shirt, buttoning it up, then sliding the gray trousers on. "You're gonna bother with laundry now?" he asks as he loops his dark leather belt on and fastens it.
"No, just separating everything so I can do it when I get home from work," you tell him as you sort his clean things from his duffle into a drawer, then place the rest requiring hanging up in the closet with your things. As you set your empty bag on the shelf, Javi sits on the bed to get his socks and dress shoes on while you remark, "I strategically blocked off my morning so I could catch up on things."
Grunting, Javier drapes the tie around his shirt's collar and starts fiddling with it as he idly glances into his duffle and sees the feather sticking out from the corner of the flap. Snorting, he drawls, "Are you gonna take custody of your toys from my bag?"
Strutting out of the closet holding a pretty violet pencil dress with a peplum and three-quarter sleeve on a hanger that you toss onto the bed, you snicker as you grab his forearm and bossily tow him back to the kitchen. With a saucy purr, you declare, "I am not, because they are your toys. Now let's eat, before the food gets cold."
You sit him down and get him some orange juice while he deadpans, "The feather is hardly my toy."
You snicker as you pour the juice in the glass and place it on the table. "Ah, don't be all macho. It's not like I stuffed the butt-plug in your bag—"
"I'd put on the nipple clamps before I ever let you come near me with that thing," he acerbically quips and pinches your ass when you turn to return the juice carton to the fridge.
Squeaking and swatting his shoulder in retaliation, you stow the juice and impishly tousle his hair before sitting across from him. "You would look really cute with pink nipple clamps on—" you'd began to jibe when he reached under the table to grab your leg and pin your foot in his lap in order to tickle your arch. "Hahah! No, stop!" is your pitched giggle as he chuckles and pinches your Achilles heel before letting you pull your leg away. "Such a malcriado," is your silly hiss as you go back to eating.
"C'mon. The feather is yours. What would I even use it for?" he insists amusedly, devouring his breakfast with gusto as you scoff.
"Well, I could use it to tickle you in all your naughty spots," you chuckle deviously, and he chokes on a piece of toast before he chugs some juice to wash it down.
"My 'naughty spots'?!" he derides, giving you a wily grin. "And what may those be, pray tell, guapita?"
"Keep it up, and I'll just stick it where the sun don't shine," you sass and bounce your brows goofily at him.
"…I might like that," he drawls on a husky hum and gives you a silly leer.
You laugh, effervescent-yet-raspy, and caress your foot along the side of his leg.
Once you've both finished breakfast, Javi knows he can't put off leaving any longer, so he collects his blazer, and shrugs it on before he grabs his duffle and the rest of his things. Accompanying him to the door, you make him pause so you can do his tie for him.
"I'll have a free period around 11am. Coffee date then?" you murmur as you straighten the knot and smooth out his collar for him.
"Yeah, that works," is his soft baritone reply, smiling when you stare up affectionately at him and tug him down by his tie to meet your kiss. Javi hums into it, caressing his warm hand along the small of your back before parting reluctantly from the kiss to murmur, "I can't wait to see you in that hot dress," smirking when you crinkle your nose humorously at his hand moving from the small of your back to rub your derrière puckishly.
"Quit stalling and go, stud," you razz flirtatiously and brush your nose against his before pecking his lips. "I love you."
"Love you too, cariño," he purrs and kisses your cheek before opening the door and striding out into the early morning air.
You pine as you watch him go, and once he's out of the courtyard, you close the door and set out to get ready. After showering and doing your hair, you unpack your travel tote and place the camera on the dresser before getting dressed. After you grab your purse and empty it out on the counter to attempt to de-clutter it, you end up smiling beamingly at the pictures that scattered out and display the fantastic weekend you had with Javier. Arranging them fondly before setting them aside, you quickly replace your purse with the essential items before going to finish getting ready for work.
By the time you're heading out of your apartment, Javier's been in a briefing with Stoddard about all the latest violent fallout from the cartel turf war. He also finds out that Feistl and Van Ness finally have something solid on Miguel Rodríguez, and that they're flying in for the day to present their plan. He knows he's got a steep hill to climb when it comes to getting the government to cooperate on another raid against Cali, but he hopes this will lead to their final death knell for good.
Part of him wonders if his zeal to bring the cartel down is fueled largely now by his drive to clear any and all obstacles that could keep pulling him away from you. And when he thinks on that deeper, he finds that it definitely inspires a sense of urgency in him, because while you've been incredibly understanding and patient with him, he fears that there's a limit he's about to hit. That if things just keep dragging on like this, you could reconsider pursuing more – to changing your mind about pursuing any more plans together.
That you'd not want to move in together, or worse…that you'd decide this isn't the life you want to live with him.
Shit. He thinks, as he realizes he's already stressing about an outcome to a plan you both haven't discussed in earnestness to begin with. Sure, he'd proposed wanting the air-conditioned apartment with a balcony, within walking distance of the coffee shop – hell, even with a little black cat he'd let you have, but that had hardly been a plan with any immediate ambition towards acting on. Now though? As he looks across his desk littered with surveillance logs and operations briefs, Javier wonders if it's naïve of him to want to move forward on making that plan a reality sooner rather than later.
Meanwhile, you're just arriving to your office, setting your laptop on the desk and pleasantly booting it up to check email as you sit in your chair and try not to immediately start daydreaming the replay of your weekend with Javi. Fortunately, Ellis strolls into your office before your mind can run away with you.
"Hey! I didn't expect you in until later," he remarks affably and sits on the edge of your desk. "I heard everything went great on Friday."
"It did! The team was awesome. Hopefully, things will go just as smoothly at the Medellín and Cali offices," you chime sociably and pause when he makes a face. "What?"
"So, because of all the cartel activity going on, embassy staff got a no business travel ban to any region experiencing heavy incidents of violence," Ellis tells you and crosses his arms. "I think we'll have to conference call in and do the linkup with Cali remotely, and you can travel to Medellín in a couple of weeks or so. If not once the travel alert is suspended," he muses, and you sigh dramatically. "When's your cousin's wedding?"
"It was going to be middle of summer, but now they're moving it up a couple of weeks, which means I gotta get to Medellín at some point soon so I can help with the arrangements. If the ban persists, I'll just have to take some vacation time to go," you ruminate out loud before sighing and changing the subject. "Anyway…I can't believe you betrayed me," is your sardonic accusation as you cross your arms and lean back bossily in your chair to squint at him.
"What?! What do you mean?" Ellis protests, looking completely confused.
Raising a brow, you whisper, "This weekend? You slipped him an itinerary with where I was going to be staying in Cartagena."
"…I have no freaking clue what you're talking about, kid," Ellis tells you with genuine befuddlement as he blinks at you curiously.
Shocked, you're internally questioning how Javi got his hands on the itinerary, if it wasn't Ellis who slipped him a copy.
"Mornin'!" You both look over at the door where Francesca's just poked her head in to salute hello.
You smirk and wave her into your office. "Close the door and come sit."
Ellis shifts to lean against the wall next to your desk so he can look between you and Francesca as the intern sits in a chair in front of you. "What's up?"
"Did Javier ask you for the itinerary?" you interrogate coolly, but your gaze is exacting as Francesca flattens her lips out and glances over the rim of her glasses at you. "I won't be mad. I'm just curious."
"Nope, he didn't. But he came in Thursday morning, and when I told him you were on a business trip, he looked like a sad puppy, so I might've left a copy of your schedule on the corner of my desk…" the curly-haired young woman retorts coyly.
Ellis blows a raspberry and sputters, "What am I missing here?"
"I'll tell you later," you snicker and shake your head derisively before glancing at Francesca, telling her warmly, "Thanks for being discreet and professional. You don't know how much that means to me."
Grinning sheepishly, Francesca chortles, "Nothing to it, boss lady!"
While you try not to melt at the mental image of Javi standing in your workspace with those damnably adorable big brown eyes and his pout on full display, Javier is going into a meeting he was sure would be bleak. After all, it was with Nador and Benson, who'd had to deal with surveying the massacres and melees caused by the narco drug war. Mil Group had assets they needed to keep in play, after all, and large-scale collateral damage was the biggest pain-point for their operations to remain clandestine and successful.
They showed him the photos of the latest bloodbath, courtesy of Cali to Norte del Valle. Javi didn't wince or cringe anymore when he looked at crime scene images. Not with the shit he'd seen in Mexico on his first assignment out of the academy, and definitely not after spending many a tag along ride to scenes with CNP during his tenure in Colombia. But, as he looked over the photos of butchered bodies, even he had to admit the gruesomeness was at another level.
Needless to say, by the time he's leaving the Mil Group bullpen, Javi is eager to empty his mind and fixate on the little slice of levity he'd been looking forward to all morning. When he strolls into your department at the pre-agreed time, he finds most of the workspaces empty of your staff who've gone to lunch. He lopes down to where he knows to expect you, and finds you restocking a cupboard with more to-go cups from the supply closet.
He takes the chance to silently ogle you, admiring how the pencil dress contours perfectly to your ass and how elegant you look in the heels as you stand on your tippy toes and try to stack the cups on the shelf.
"Need a hand?"
You start, jumping a little before whirling to scoff at him, but end up smiling and relenting, "Yes, please."
Javi stands close, putting his mug down on the counter and taking the opportunity to relish your soft, sultry scent, as he shifts the stacks in a single file on the shelf for you. Pleasantly, you grab the carafe and fill his mug for him before doing the same with yours.
"Did you banish your staff so they wouldn't see us having coffee together?" he jokes as he leans his hip into the counter before taking a sip.
Snickering, you retort, "Not at all. Some are training your staff, and the rest are either at lunch or in the server room overseeing some diagnostics with Ellis." Javi grunts and takes another sip, but you can tell he'd wanted to say something. "What's on your mind, sir?"
He gives you a heated look, getting enticed by your use of 'sir' when you're gazing so alluringly at him. "I was gonna say, I need to get your intern a thank you gift," he tells you in a hushed purr, and you have to suppress the impulse to curl into him when he leans close and asks, "Does she like chocolates?"
"She does," you reply in a murmur before glancing around and deciding even with the department being relatively quiet, you'd rather go somewhere more private. So, you gesture for him to follow you back to your office. Once you're both through the door, you close it and shut the blinds over the sidelight. "I can't believe you swiped the paper off her desk," you hiss irreverently and give him an imperious look as he quirks his brows at you. "Don't even try to deny it."
"I won't, but she totally slid it to me intentionally," he tells you and sits on your couch, setting his mug aside so he can cross his arms and stretch his legs out.
You snicker and wryly join him, pivoting in your seat to gaze thoughtfully at him when he sighs and leans back heavily into the sofa. "What's wrong?" you ask, cupping your hands around the mug to keep from wrapping them around him.
"I got my guys in Cali coming up for a briefing. We're gonna plan a raid on Miguel Rodríguez," Javi grouses, rubbing his hand over his brow to try and ease the tension there. "I'm worried about it. There are so many unknowns, and things are dicey here when it comes to getting government cooperation. We can't afford another fuckup—"
The mug plunking down on the side table stirs him to glance at you just as you curl sidelong into him and wrap your arms around his shoulders. He's so surprised that he just stares in awe before melting into you when you rest your forehead against his cheek. He wraps his arm around you and holds you close, feeling that undercurrent of delight buzz through him at how monumental this is – at how poignant it is for you to break your rule and comfort him, when anyone could walk in and catch you together.
"You can only do your best, Javi. And, you will, so quit worrying," is your charismatic chime as you lean into him affectionately. Javi snorts and relaxes as you caress your fingertips along his brow before skimming them down the contour of his temple to rest at his cheek so you can guide him to meet your chaste kiss.
He feels at ease from the soft caress of your lips over his, so when you lean back, he just stares warmly at you.
"I'll try," Javi huffs lightly and rests his forehead to yours. "We're gonna end up working late on the plan, so I won't be home for dinner."
Nodding, you peck him on the lips and sit back in your spot on the couch before reaching for your mug. "Alright. But you better order-in food and not starve yourself," you deride before taking a long sip.
"Yes, boss lady," he laconically drawls and grabs his own mug to clink it cheekily against yours before drinking from it.
You spend a few more minutes together, chatting about your work, when you remember to mention, "I was planning on going to Medellín and Cali to oversee the linkups at the field offices there, but there's a travel ban for most embassy personnel now."
Finishing his coffee, Javi grunts, trying to keep the horrible images he'd seen earlier at bay and remain guarded as he remarks, "Yeah, things are too volatile right now. Best to do it remotely."
"I know, but I do have to go to Medellín eventually," you retort simply when you set your empty mug aside and stand to go grab your blazer from the back of your desk chair. As you're slipping it on, you catch the look he's giving you, so you elaborate, "For the wedding? I'm helping them pick up things – make the table arrangements, flowers, the whole works. Now that it's been moved up too, I'll have to take vacation time and go—"
Javi stands, coffee mug gripped in his hand stiffly as he impulsively runs his hand through his hair while he grumbles, "Give it a couple of weeks. Play it by ear."
You can tell there's something weighty to him now, so you strut over and surprise him once again by encircling his waist and leaning into him. "You'll come spend the night with me once you're done?" is your soft question, gaze gentle and lips looking ever so inviting to him.
"Yes. I'll let myself in, so don't wait up," Javi murmurs and decides he needs to kiss you, so he does, brushing his full lips over yours as he cups your cheek.
When you both part from the kiss, you snicker and quickly wipe your thumb over his lips and moustache to remove your lipstick smear for him. With a sardonic smile, you tut, "Alright, then. Good luck with the planning. Try not to be too impatient with your guys."
"Sí, patrona," he husks, brewed coffee eyes impish as he smirks at you. With a scoff, you detach from him to grab some folders from your desk for your next meeting before opening the office door and waltzing out with him.
The flirty energy is immediately stowed once the door opens. You and Javi stroll to the main hall, chatting idly about the weather and seeming nothing but pleasantly professional to anyone you pass. Parting ways when he needs to head to the elevator and you to the opposite staircase, you both silently communicate your affection for each other with a warm glance.
"Have a good rest of your day, director."
"Same to you, Agent Peña."
He enters the elevator with a few other people while you exit up the staircase.
Your pining simmers giddily in you as you go onto the rest of your day, while Javi has one more meeting before he descends into his department to find Feistl, Van Ness, and Stoddard already laying all their intel out for brainstorming in a secure conference room. He settles in for a long planning session.
By the time he's apprised of everything his agents have gathered, minus the name of their source, it's the end of the workday for most, and you get home just in time before a rainstorm starts pouring. Making it into the apartment, you rush to close all the windows, keeping the blustery air current and rain out. You shed your heels and blazer before turning on the light on your nightstand and then the one in the hall. "So much for doing laundry tonight," you sigh aloofly to yourself.
You're just going into the kitchen to look in the fridge for what to have for dinner when you hear frantic scratching at your balcony door. Running over, you open it and see the black cat bound through, spooked by the deluge and looking to stay dry.
"Aww, pobrecita," you coo as you shut the door and watch the cat shake herself off. "Gonna be a cold one tonight, so you can spend it inside," is your musing as you retrieve an old towel and make her a little warm nook on the chair. The green-eyed feline happily hops up and burrows into the cozy bundle before kneading the towel, purring away before doing a circle and settling down to sleep.
You pet her head, wondering how annoyed Javi will be to find her in the apartment when he comes home late. The fond image of him having a standoff with the little black cat is dispelled from your mind when your house phone starts ringing.
Going over to the receiver, you grab the cordless phone up and answer, "Hello?"
"Hey, darling. I've been thinking about you all day. How are things?" Sasha greets charmingly.
"Great. I just got home and avoided getting caught up in this downpour. You at the hotel?" you retort as you go into your bedroom to strip out of your dress.
"Yes. Just got in as well. So listen, I have a bit of bad news," he tells you in a raspy bass. "I have a business opportunity that's come up, so I have to leave for Miami before I head back to New York, which means I'll be flying out Thursday afternoon. I have to postpone our dinner plans until I return to oversee the packing of the collection to go back," Sasha laments, sounding genuinely disappointed.
"Oh, really?" you frown, sitting on your bed in just your bra and panties. "What's in Miami?"
"Ian got interest from one of the big art galleries there who want to showcase 'Worship' for an extended residency. Supposedly some art collector from down here raved to one of the board of directors members and they want to wine and dine me into a year-long exhibition," he tells you sardonically, and you hum in delight, so he adds, "Wish you could come with. Gianni's house is there, and he's been cajoling me to visit for ages, but you know his style's not my thing."
You shake your head derisively at that. "One of the biggest designers in the world wants to hang out with you, and you're perpetually too cool and classy for him. For shame, velvel," you deride playfully and slip on a flowy housedress. At his grunt, you confide, "I was looking forward to dinner. I was hoping it could be a do-over."
Sasha hums, intrigued. "A do-over for your gallant, hotheaded lover, you mean?" he lures. "So, he went and groveled for your forgiveness, and you gave it, then?"
"Yes," you chirp, unable to keep the smile out of your voice. "He surprised me by showing up at my hotel in Cartagena. We had a long walk and talk, and we both apologized for our parts," is your diplomatic response before you add brazenly, "Then, we spent the weekend making it up to each other…in bed."
"Hah! As you should," Sasha chuckles roguishly. "And you invited him to dinner?"
"Well, yeah. I feel bad for putting you both in such a combatively weird position, so I wanted dinner to be a sort of reset," you explain as you return to the kitchen and decide to make a nice soup for dinner. The photos you'd left on the kitchen island are scattered now from when the breeze blew in through the open balcony door, so you collect them and fondly sort them before going to the photo album on the coffee table and slipping them in for later arranging.
"Hmm. So he's not in a macho panic anymore? And he's accepting of our friendship, without being affronted by the fact I've rocked your world just as much as he has?" Sasha teasingly quips, setting his voice into a velvety growl as he adds, "He's not gonna get territorial with you in front of me, just to prove you're his now?"
You scoff, sneering sarcastically, "I would smack the shit out of him, so, no. He's totally fine, but I probably wouldn't constantly mention our sexcapades together, bub."
"Ah, fair point. Well, I'm free tomorrow night. Would you both want to go out to dinner then? I'd love to see you before I leave," Sasha proposes.
"I'm free too, but I'll have to see if Javi can make it. If not, then the three of us can do dinner together another time," you retort jovially as you stroll back into the kitchen to set the pot on the stove to start making your dinner.
"Great. I'll make reservations for three, and worst-case, it'll just be me and you, kitten," Sasha declares coolly. "I'll call you tomorrow."
Agreeing, you give him your cell phone number and tell him to call that instead. Wishing each other a goodnight, you hang up and start on supper.
Javier is ruefully leaning over the conference table, looking at the maps his agents are displaying as they talk through their plan for the raid. "—We figure that with a transpo of three trucks coming from different directions, we should be able to cut off any routes of escape. Ideally, though, CNP should drop us in on the roof so we can gain access to the penthouse and overwhelm them before they have a chance to hide him in a caleta. Our informant—"
Sitting up to grab for his cigarettes and so he can stretch the tension out of his back, Javi cuts in, "And this informant. How reliable is she?"
"Natalia hasn't been wrong so far, boss. We've just failed to act," Dan answers before Chris can. "Time is of the essence. Miguel Rodríguez is starting to get paranoid. They could decide to move him to another safe house at any point. We think this is our best shot."
Lighting up his cigarette, Javi takes a long drag of it before exhaling. The smoke filters moodily about him as he paces the length of the room. He feels a headache coming on, his belly is full of mediocre takeout, and he's getting jittery from all the caffeinated sodas he's had since they holed up in the conference room for the brainstorm. Taking another drag of his cigarette before puffing out the smoke while he rubs at his temples, Javi leans into the corner of the table and collects his thoughts.
"I'll go to the Minister of Defense the day before the raid to secure the CNP resources we need, that way we keep leaks to a minimum. In the meantime, make sure this informant isn't going to leave us with our dicks in our hands," he directs, brooding regard giving no edge for argument.
Once Feistl and Van Ness confirm they're going to have a meet with their informant the following day, Javi tells them to keep him in the loop of any changes. The two agents exit to catch the next flight to Cali while Javi tells Stoddard to keep his schedule for the next few days the same so no one is the wiser.
He's driving to your side of town in the rain a little while later, chewing on a mint to get the taste of cigarette out of his mouth. By the time he parks, he has to hoof it out of the car in the now-drizzling rain to run across the courtyard of your complex and up the stairs. It's very late, so he quietly slips his key into the lock to enter your apartment. The hall light is on, which makes it easy for him to quickly lock up and set his things on the side table. He goes to quickly brush his teeth and splash some cool water on his face before switching the light off so he can walk stealthily towards the bedroom without waking you.
The slats of all the windows are shut to keep the storm out, so your room is extra dark as he feels his path over to where he knows the hamper is so he can undress and deposit his clothes in it. After he's stripped down to his underwear, he tiptoes to his side of the bed. He can just make out the outline of shapes in the darkness, and sees that you're sleeping on your side, facing the windows. You're breathing is soft but deep, so Javier goes to carefully pull the covers back, when a dark pillow jolts and yowls in protest – scaring the ever-loving hell out of him.
"Maldita sea," Javi grits out from the fright before scowling at the little black cat as her eyes glow at him in the lowlight.
Drowsily, you wake and roll to sit up, yawning before you murmur, "Javi?"
"Sorry. This fucking cat's in the bed," Javi grumbles moodily. "She got a key too?" he can't help mock as he tugs the covers back and slides into bed with you when the feline ignores him and goes to curl up by your feet instead.
You giggle. "It was storming bad earlier, and it's so cold, so I let her in. She must've abandoned the little bundle I set up for her and gotten into bed after I fell asleep," you reason as you cuddle close to him. "Mmm…so warm."
He relaxes when you snuggle into him and kiss his neck before nuzzling his warm skin, sighing as his comforting, masculine scent lulls you. When you sidle your leg between his, he can feel the wool sock on your foot and the thick cotton of your batita. "Jeez, you're that cold?" he teases as he curls onto his side so he can wrap his arms around you. You grunt and nod before tucking your head under his chin. "Tan friolenta," he purrs and rubs his palms along your back. "I'll heat you up."
You're starting to get a little tingly from his touch – by how his warm breath fans across your skin while he presses you against his body. A sexy sound slips out of you as a breathy sigh, and Javi can feel you clench your thighs together. You try to not let your desire simmer up, but Javi cheekily rubs his hand teasingly along the curve of your derrière. He's purposely turning you on, enjoying how you lean into him, so you huff and nudge him playfully.
"Quit it," you sass before flopping over onto your opposite side to attempt to go back to sleep. Javi tugs you back over by your hip and sidles close. "Babe…"
"Let me go down on you," he purrs before kissing the spot under your ear as he trails his fingers down your torso. You press your thighs together and mewl, so he pledges huskily, "I'll be gentle, querida. Let me lick your pussy and make you feel good." The cat meows when your foot accidentally nudges her, and sits up to stare over at you both. Javi huffs grumpily. "Not you. Get out of here," he chides, and the pussycat yowls before hopping off the bed and retreating to her makeshift bed in the living room.
You laugh at the silly exchange. "Que malo eres," you tease, and he rolls his eyes at you telling him he's so bad, especially over being coarse towards a cat. "I don't think you can stay gentle," is your offhanded remark as you caress his jaw and brush a kiss to his cheek.
"I promise. I'll be nice and gentle," he husks and kisses a path to your lips.
With a promise like that, how could you deny him? Let alone miss out on the pleasure, so you bite your bottom lip and nod. With a pleased grunt, Javi surprises you by slipping under the covers and maneuvering between your legs. You let out a chortled sound before snickering and pulling your legs up, bending them at the knee and goofily rubbing your sock-clad feet along the sides of his arms when be props himself up on his elbows.
He hikes your cotton nighty up and pulls your panties down, relishing how you tense in excitement and stifle a charged sigh. "Mmm, damn, baby. You're already so wet," Javi groans, punch-drunk on your heady scent and how your pussy is dripping with need. Tugging the panties off your legs and strategically placing them on his side of the bed, he gently trails his fingers down your seam, enjoying how your slick coats his digits while you whimper in desire. "This for me? Were you wet like this for me all day?" Javi growls as he kisses a path along your inner thigh while he lightly touches your weeping pussy.
You fidget, a little bashful when you admit, "Yes. You turn me on like this all the time, Javi."
"Fuck," Javi groans, getting riled by your admittance. He thinks of you being this turned on while you both were sitting in your office together, and it has his arousal throbbing down into his dick as he grinds into the bed for some needed friction just when he swipes his tongue along the cleft of your sex now.
Gasping, you arch and blush as Javi uses only the warm, velvety flat of his tongue to lick into your yearning cunt. It feels luscious and sinful, having him worship you with such slow, languid curls and rolls of his talented appendage – by his lustful groans and the way his fingers dimple your thighs. You're getting worked up quickly by Javi – by how devoted he is to giving you unselfconscious rapture, and the way pleasure is sparking in your core has your nipples studded and shivers erupting up your spine.
Javi hums, tenderly holding your thighs open as he eats you out, paying attention to how you mewl and quiver in his embrace. He sets you aflame with the indolent, lush way he drags his tongue through your folds to flutter along your slit before rubbing tenderly over your clitoris. All the while, he eases the pressure of his licks, making sure to keep from being too rough, and by the way you chase his mouth, he knows he's got it just right. Especially when you moan, "Oh my god—nngth, oh god!" when he alternates from licking to flicking the tip of his tongue rapidly on your clit, before suckling pressure over your pulsing pleasure point. "Ja-Javi!"
Your cry is startled as you feel yourself suddenly flooding over with your climax, one Javi growls into when your thighs tense, and you come undone. It's daunting how hard your pussy clenches around nothing and gushes your orgasm so greedily to soak his mouth and chin, and if you weren't left quaking from it, you'd probably be embarrassed. But even so, the way Javi hums, almost in triumph, as he prolongs your ecstasy and laps at your honeyed cunt has you blessedly blitzed out.
Proudly, Javi plants a wet kiss to your womb as he shifts to crawl back up from under the covers so he can loom over you and gaze ruggedly down at you in the penumbra of the room. "You were worked up. I don't think I've made you come that quick, ever," he chuckles in a rich rasp as he licks his lips before scrubbing the back of his hand over his mouth and chin.
You can't even muster the gumption to feign a scoff. Not when you feel so relaxed now and this smug hunk is propped above you. So, you pull him down to lie on top of you, and sigh, "That may be, mi amor. It also helps that I've fantasized countless times of you going down on me like that."
Snickering, he kisses your cheek before shifting to lie next to you. "I aim to please," he rumbles, stretching out and rubbing his hand over the bulge in his underwear. Javi had only intended to adjust himself, but when your hand drapes over his, he exhales and wets his lips. "You don't have to, preciosa—"
"I want to touch it," you whisper, stretching out onto your side so you can slip your hand down his waistband to free his erection to your nimble touch. His breath catches as he groans at you wrapping your hand around his hot, throbbing length before giving it a firm stroke from tip to base. "I ever tell you how much I adore it, hermoso?" is your silky murmur as you brush your lips to his sideburn while your fingers trace up his cock before you toy your palm over his dripping tip. Javi bucks up into your touch and moans, lust tethering pulsing need in his lower half and making him hot with need. He gets even more heated when you showily bring your hand for a long swipe of your tongue over the palm before you wrap it around his cock so you can stroke him in earnest now. Javi swears sensuously in a hiss and pants his heated desire, beyond riled and desperate for release. Pleased when he just chases his need by bucking up into your hand as you jack him off, you relish how he's giving himself over to the pleasure – to you. "I can't wait to have it inside me again—"
"Christ, b-baby—" Javi groans, heels digging into the bed and hips snapping up to fuck up into your fist while his hands grip the sheets.
You nuzzle his neck and purr, "It's so big. I'm always in disbelief that it even fits inside me. It's the biggest and best. You've ruined all other men for me—"
The absolutely literal ego stroking has Javi twitching in your hand before his cock swells from the force of his arousal snapping loose in his apex, drawing his balls up tight as he orgasms with a gruff moan. His cum is hot and thick as it spills over your hand and across his lower belly while you stroke him through his climax until he's trembling from the aftershocks.
Javi dissolves, becoming like a boneless heap, listless and sated as you kiss a path down his body to lick and suckle him clean of his seed. He's hazily buzzing still, humming dimly as you tug his underwear down his thighs and off so he can be comfortable. On the way back up, after tossing his undies to the side, you place a soft kiss over his manhood before mouthing the web of your thumb to lave it free of his spilled spend.
His skin is warm as you rest your cheek to his chest after having stretched out next to him and pulled the covers up to his waist, and smile when he lulls his head down to nuzzle your hair.
"Biggest and best, huh."
You giggle and kiss his sternum before curling up to cuddle him as you unabashedly lilt, "Yes. I wasn't just flattering your ego. As a matter of fact, I told Sasha what went through my mind the first time I touched it." When Javi adjusts intently at that, big brown eyes riveted, you elaborate in a smoky tone, "How I was taken aback, and got a little nervous tingle in my tummy."
The undercurrent of savage pride zings up into his chest and has his shoulders broadening while he rumbles, "Fucking hell…you told him that?"
"Mmhmm," you hum and affectionately rest your forehead to his temple. "I don't normally kiss and tell, but Sasha needled it out of me—"
"So at the very least, I have to pretend I don't know that he knows I have a big dick during our dinner with him, is what you're saying," Javi jibes sardonically and nudges you playfully so he can cheekily suckle a kiss into your neck.
Snickering, you quip, "Yeah, sure – at the very least." He snorts at that, not taking umbrage. "That reminds me, though. Sasha's leaving a lot sooner than he'd originally planned, so we had to move up our dinner to tomorrow night instead of Friday," is your tentative remark now. "I know you're busy, so no worries if you can't make it—"
"Tomorrow night works," Javi retorts simply, which surprises you, so he shifts onto his side and explains, "I have a meeting with Botero Wednesday. The raid is happening before dawn Thursday – if everything falls into place. So, I'm all yours tomorrow night."
Beaming, you wrap your arms around him and kiss him sultrily. Javi buries hand into the back of your hair and deepens it, allowing you both to taste each other. The hints of spearmint and the tang of you on his tongue as he twirls it around yours, and the feel of his body getting hot against yours has you breaking the kiss so you can tug your batita off and toss it before you smile into the kiss when he grunts at you rolling so you can lie on top of him in the complete nude now – save for the socks.
"You got me too hot now, chavón," you purr, smirking when he scoffs and pulls the covers back over the both of you.
"Uh-huh, sure," he chuckles before tucking your head onto his shoulder as he caresses his hands along your back, snickering at your sock-clad feet rubbing the sides of his legs.
You let out a musing sigh before chiming intriguingly, "God, I haven't been gone down on like that since Beatrice."
Interests piqued, Javi murmurs, "Oh? Do I need to adjust my technique?"
Snickering a silky sound, you assure, "Not at all. I love your technique, fresco. It's just, well, a girl is usually amazing at going down on another girl. That thing you did with the tip of your tongue? She'd do that too."
"…Is it bad I'm thinking of you getting eaten out by a girl right now?" Javi raunchily drawls as he caresses your curves sensually.
Giggling, you sigh and retort, "No, just as long as you know it ain't going to come true, mi beyaquito." When he snorts, you can't help cheekily ask, "Do I give you head as good as the time you got some from that guy?"
"Christ. Considering I was drunk and panicking about getting caught, I don't really remember if he was really good or if I was just real hard-up for it," he rumbles honestly. "Why? Have I ever given you the idea that it wasn't?!"
"No. But I've heard guys give the best blowjobs – because they know exactly how to get another guy off," you offer and idly comb through the hair behind his ear. "Sasha once told me, 'Oh hun, your enthusiasm is great, but you're killing me,'—"
"What?!" Javi scoffs in amused shock. "You give great head—"
"I thought I did then too, but admittedly didn't have much experience, so I told him, 'Fine, then teach me how to be a stellar blowjob queen!' And he did," you tell him in a crass replay before giggling at his comical grunt. "He wasn't great at going down on a girl, though, so I got him back by teaching him what I like," you're offering before tentatively adding, "This is too much information—"
"Quite the opposite," Javi cuts in, interested. "You need to give me all the details. I'm riveted," he chuckles and bounces his brows cheekily at you.
"Well then," you lilt and sit up a little to lounge more comfortably on him. "I know most women don't like giving head, but I like blowjobs. Sasha's philosophy? 'You gotta be truly, legitimately hungry for cock to give a great blowjob. And you, my sweets, are ravenous for it, but you're too damned rough!' So began the lessons," you declare before giggling irreverently.
He's super curious, so he finds himself asking before he's given the question much thought, "You hadn't done it much before?"
Busying yourself with arranging his curling tufts of hair that fall against his forehead, you answer, "Not really. Mostly just fooled around. Touching and fondling as foreplay before sex with most guys, and those I went down on were few and far between until Sasha," you pause, wondering if you should elaborate the 'why,' but then decide you feel comfortable telling him. "Most weren't steady relationships, and I was big on using protection. And most were older guys who treated going with me as a status symbol, so sex was sort of part of that…which was fine, as long as I got off," is your ruminating remark, pausing when Javier grunts tersely. "See? Too much information."
"I'm not judging you, preciosa," Javi assures and kisses your cheek. "Just wondering what kind of fucking assholes would go with a young girl, for the status of it."
You shrug, before chiming, "Most men, Javi. And I had agency. I chose to date them—"
"What about the instructor?"
You pause, brows knitting together at his question. His tone wasn't surly or scathing, but it held a charged edge to it, and his eyes were intense and dark, looking like deep pools you were about to get lost in when what he was referencing dawns on you.
"Oh, that was nothing," you dismiss before going back to playing with his curls. "After my mother died, I was acting out. Got into a fight at school. Rather than discourage me from fighting, my father thought it would be best to channel it into self-defense and sparring techniques," you pause as you pet his curls back, gaze getting faraway in remembrance. "I was kind of a tomboy when I was growing up, and since he never got to have a son, I guess he decided he'd instill all that in me, regardless. He taught me how to shoot, survival stuff, would give me brainteasers to solve. So, since I was acting up and fighting, he had this former Mossad agent-turned-instructor for the Navy Seals buddy of his teach me self-defense. My father and I weren't getting along, and I refused to train with him, so he figured Ari would be a decent compromise, since he was disciplined – cutthroat and strict. I think he thought it would set me straight," you remark acerbically.
"And did it?" Javi asks, absently shuffling his legs to rub your soft sock-clad feet along them while you move on from arranging his curls to glide your fingers through the hair at his crown.
"Oh, he set me straight, alright," you quip suggestively, lopsided smirk becoming mischievous. "We were alone in the mat room one session, practicing grappling techniques and how to break out of holds. You know – like when someone grabs you from behind and locks you in a hold that pins your arms down at your sides?" Javier nods, so you continue, "And he's barking at me to get out of the hold. I try to kick at him, then a reverse head-butt, but he just scoffs and tells me to do better. So, with all of my strength, I sidestep and fling us both down onto the mat," you pause, squinting deviously as you recall, "At that point, I just start wiggling to get free. Tugging at his forearms and bucking my pelvis back. Just when I thought I felt him brush up against me, he shoved me away, so I pivoted to grapple him onto the ground and pin him onto his back. But then he flipped me off and spun around to try and put me in another hold. So," you're so into the retelling now, that you sit up and straddle him gleefully in order to pantomime as you narrate, "Picture it: We're on all fours practically now, and he locks a forearm around my midriff and loops the other around the front of my shoulder, which forces him to be flush up against me, putting most of his weight into me. I freeze up and stop struggling, because I can totally feel his hard-on pressing into me."
"Jesus," he grouses, "How old was this guy?!"
"I think late twenties?" you chime and hunch back down to curl into him. "I remember thinking he looked like a young Paul Newman – if he'd been a bearded Israeli former-Mossad agent," you giggle.
You remember having a crush on him, and getting a little thrill when he'd shout commands at you. Overtime your crush had become lust, especially that day when you were on the mat, locked in his hold and feeling his warm breath on your neck and his arousal pressed into the back of your inner thigh. You tell Javi all about it, detailing how you'd daringly curled back into him and rubbed your ass against his crotch. How he'd recoiled but seemed abashed, so you'd used his distraction to throw him off and try to pin him again. He was so strong, though, so he easily overpowered you and pressed you flat on your back into the mat, pinning your wrists on either side of your head. You were out of breath and sweaty, staring up at him and seeing an uncharacteristic flush to his cheeks, tulip-pink lips ajar from his ragged panting. His cock was unmistakably hard, digging into the inseam of your thigh, so you undulated your pelvis to grind into it experimentally.
Javier is listening to your story, and unable to get enticed by it. You'd been a young teen. A troubled, upset, angry teen seeking out solace via gratification, and the thought that any man would've taken advantage of that pisses him off. You're none the wiser, though, because he's remaining calm as you tell him. Your gaze has gone faraway after you started cuddling him, having propped your head on his shoulder as you recount the encounter. Even if you knew what was on his mind, you would think he was just being overprotective – that this anecdote of your sexual exploits was no different from the time he'd told you about that Tina girl he played seven minutes in heaven with.
So, you narrate how Ari hesitated, gruff and a little exasperated by the lascivious turn of events in your grappling session. How you'd asked him not to stop – told him how good he was making you feel. Describe how heatedly he looked at you when he rubbed his clothed erection directly over your crotch and felt how warm and wet you were. Explaining how you'd told him that it was the best you'd felt in so long. And how reluctantly, he started grinding into you while he swore in Hebrew and whispered how fucking wrong it was – until you'd exhaled a reedy scoff and kissed him on the mouth.
"—Sure, I'd kissed guys before, and let them feel me up a little, but this was so different. I'd never felt so good, and god, did I love going for my training sessions every week after that," you're summing up with a brash, albeit fond, chuckling sigh. Javier is silent, so you lean your head up to peek at him. His eyes are intense, features colored by the conflict he's trying to bite down. Arching your brows cavalierly, you drawl, "You know, you look really cute when your nostrils flare all crankily like that—"
"It really pisses me off that no one protected you."
You're shocked by his comment, truly taken aback by the hardness of his tone. Javier sees it settle in your eyes when your face falls, so he swears and shifts to sit up so he can cup your cheek and stare reassuringly into your now worried gaze.
"I'm sorry, that came out wrong," he grumbles, and huffs, "I only mean…how were these men allowed around you like that. It would've set off alarms for me."
You flippantly snicker. "Christ on the Cross, Javier. I told you: I was fucking angry and wild. My father couldn't wait to offload me, so he definitely didn't care to be paying attention to who was paying attention to me," is your deriding scoff as you nudge him back so you can straddle his lap again. "I wasn't Caperucita Roja – no one snatched me off of a seesaw while I was sucking on a lollipop. At that point, I could shoot better than most grown men, could survive in the jungle for a week without help, and could mop the floor with someone twice my size – which I had, hence the training outlet," you tell him firmly, no real umbrage, but your fierce stare and bossy pout made it clear you would not accept his worry and pity over your unorthodox coming-of-age anecdotes.
"Well…tell me that at the very least he didn't make you do anything you didn't want to," he tersely grouses and holds your hands in his after he gathers them from where you'd placed them on his broad chest.
"Not a thing. We never had sex – he was adamant that he would never do that. So, we'd fool around – mostly frottage, nothing under the clothes, and he would stop once I got off and wouldn't let me touch him to get him off," you explain, and volunteer unabashedly, "I did ask to watch him jerk off once, as a consolation for not knowing what it would be like to get to touch him myself, because of his stupid parameters…and he did."
His scandalized jaw drop is priceless, so you emphasize how much that fling informed your turn-on for grinding, non-penetrative sex and enthrall him with your sultry desire by rubbing slowly along the length of him and groaning.
The sight of you grinding your warm and wet pussy against his cock juxtaposed with how lustfully you're looking at him has Javi shelving the conversation so he can act out the salacious anecdote from your youth. He rolls to pin you under him and grinds slow, nerve-melting pressure into your aching, yearning cunt, rutting the ridge of his cock against your throbbing clit. It's such a fantastic sensation, and married with the hungry look in his eyes and the way he kisses you, it mightily blows your sexcapade with Ari out of the water totally, which you secretly think was his goal. That Javi wants to replace all your gold-standard romps with the amazing sex you both have. And really, he has. After all, you only think of Javi now when you're alone and touch yourself, and enjoy reliving every moment you've shared together.
You're so enthralled – hyper-stimulated and dialed into him that you don't think you'll ever think of another man again. Especially when Javi has you coming in almost minutes – making you feel so mind-blowingly good that you're left a keening, mewling mess as you quiver in his hold, while he keeps grinding into you until he bites back a growl and climaxes, shooting his load on your womb.
Dazed and fucked-out now, you clumsily grab the tissues he offers you when you just lie in sated repose, trailing your fingers in his cum. He ends up snickering and wiping your tummy clean of his spend for you before he tosses them in the wastebasket, then flops down with you in bed so you both can snuggle groggily against each other.
"How'd it end?"
You dimly hum at his husky question before it dawns on you what he's referring to. "Uneventfully. Fling lasted only a few months. Hardly a fling," you pause pensively. "And then my father moved us back to Puerto Rico during the summer. I guess he felt enough time had gone by…that I'd gotten over things. I didn't see Ari ever again. My father mentioned once that he relocated to the west coast," is your drowsy explanation before you nuzzle into his jaw. "I went to school down there the following semester. He'd sold the house in the mountains where she…where it'd happened, so we lived in a condo before he bought the house in Dorado Beach…married Camille, and moved her in by Christmas that year," you murmur before trailing off with a soft sigh.
He's able to fill in some blanks, so he decides to rumble softly, "Hmph, is it bad I wish we'd have known each other then?"
Sleepily, and without cautious self-preservation, you mumble, "No. Wish that all the time…"
Javi cuddles you, relishing how you relax and doze off in his arms. His heart feels heavy, even though you confiding these things to him also make him feel worthy. So, Javier focuses on how safe you must feel to let your guard down totally to him. Settled, it becomes easy for your soft breath against his neck to help lull him into his own much-needed slumber.
The next morning, Javier is the first to wake up, thanks to what he thought was your arm draping around the curve of his side actually being the little black cat, seeking warmth. He only realized it wasn't your arm because of the purring, so he startled awake. He jolted and huffed before glaring at the critter, which innocently stared up at him with big green eyes.
Relenting, he begrudgingly pets her head before nudging her to move so he can roll onto his back.
You're sleeping on your side, facing the windows, so Javi turns his head on the pillow and gazes fondly at you while the feline stretches out between you and starts kneading her front paws into the covers. The sensation stirs you to wake up and peer over your shoulder, snickering when you see her.
"This cat is a menace," Javi grouses, which gets you to grin and roll completely over and pillow your hand under your cheek. "We can't make this a routine – her sleeping in bed between us," he mutters sardonically and stretches, popping the kinks out of his back.
Amused, you're about to quip, 'Think of it as practice for when there's a kid sleeping between us,' but your rational mind yanks the reins hard on that. What a weird thing to say!
Instead, you sit up and switch the alarm off before adjusting to lounge on your side, petting the cat. "We won't. Although, I think she's wearing you down," is your quip before leaning over to peck him on the lips, then shift away to grab your discarded robe and slip it on after the cat stretches and sidles close to Javi's side. You smile at the sight and snicker, "She loves you!"
"Well, she hasn't scratched at me yet, so," he mutters and shies away to the edge of the bed, earning a meow of disapproval from the cat.
"Aww. Leave the gruñón alone, and come have food," you tell the cat and pat your thigh for her to come follow you down to the kitchen. The cat obeys and trots down after you, tail swinging happily about as she goes.
Javier shakes his head wryly and gets up, stretching his arms above his head and yawning. Tossing the covers aside, he finds your panties right where he'd left them, so he quickly grabs the skimpy undergarment and tucks it away in his duffle before yanking on his own discarded pair in order to lope down the hall.
He ends up leaning into the island counter's edge and watching you parcel out some tuna in a dish before walking over to set it out at the balcony for her. "Alright, little miss. Pa' fuera," you tell her after you set the water dish and her little towel bundle out too, smiling when the ebony feline gallops out to dig in.
You turn and see Javi looking like a damn dish in your kitchen, so you shut the balcony door and flounce over to grab his hand and tow him into the shower with you. Miraculously, you both manage not to get amorously tangled up under the hot water – aside from some heavy making out and caresses, and instead rush to get ready so you can spend some time together over breakfast. His tension about the anecdote you shared the night before is totally gone, and when he tries to assure you he didn't mean to pry or judge, you lean over and kiss his cheek, dazzling gaze telling him how unbothered you are.
Javi's gone to sit on the couch while you set the dishes to soak, and notices the leather bound photo album. Curious, he picks it up and opens it, expecting to see fun snapshots of you with your friends, and instead, becomes awestruck by the first photo he sees.
"Holy shit…is this you and Elton John?!" he gapes, staring from the photo up at you as you lope over.
You idly unroll your periwinkle-colored silk blouse's sleeves and sit next to him, smiling. The photo is you wearing a flimsy, glittery metallic shift dress with a star cutout on the bust, sitting on the musician's lap just after having pilfered his star-shaped tinted glasses to slip them on yourself while he grins convivially at someone off camera. "Yeah. He was the sweetest man. Sasha and I were dancing, and I turned and bumped into him, so he called me 'star girl,' and next thing I know, I'm sitting in his lap and wearing his glasses," you reminisce blithely, smirking when he flips through the album in awe.
Javi marvels at the photos, disbelieving that most are of you in your late teens and early twenties. You're dressed like a luminary of the nightlife scene in most – wearing mini dresses and killer heels, with your hair full and luscious in all kinds of styles. Some shots are more down-to-earth: You and Irina in Central Park in the spring; she and you lounging on the deck of a house in the Hamptons; you wearing an oversized men's sweater and curled up on a windowsill with a cup of coffee. All the different facets of you, captured over the years. Across a space and time he didn't know you, and suddenly feels jealous about – envious that he's not in any of these with you—
When he gets to the next page, the photos you both took greet him, sliding across the glossy protector and into his navy trouser-clad lap. All the envy blows away, replaced with a scintillating sense of pride as he sorts through the photos and smirks before looking at you with a wily gleam in his dark brown eyes.
"I want to keep these two," he tells you, holding up the two photos he took: the silly one in bed together, and the one of you posing on the muralla.
"Fine, guapito," you purr and kiss his lips before maneuvering the album onto your lap so you can arrange the other three photos on their very own page, memorializing them as a new facet in your flamboyant life.
"Ok, excluding those, which photos were you the most excited to see in there?" Javi asks, stretching his arm along the back of the couch and teasingly kissing your cheekbone.
"I have two," you declare as you flip through to find them. "This one," you say, showing him a picture of you, Irina, and Sasha sitting in a booth together in the Russian Tea Room. "And, this one," is your next announcement as you show him a picture of you sitting and in rapt conversation with Freddie Mercury while a bare-faced Sasha sat on the opposite side of you in an open-collared dress shirt and tight trousers, with a half empty bottle of champagne held loosely between his legs. You're dressed in a leather bustier dress, plush lips looking juicy thanks to the cherry-red gloss plumping them, while the rock icon wore a plain white t-shirt and jeans. "I was so excited to talk to him. I think he was the most down to earth, wonderfully cheeky man I've ever met," you tell Javi, fondly smiling at him as you close the album.
"Jesus. The closest I ever came to a famous person was when Manny swore he saw Johnny Cash at a bar we were at outside of Laredo, and when we went over to see, it was just some old dude in all black, with a bad pompadour," Javier can't help quip and give you a silly pout while you laugh out loud.
It's a great, lighthearted way to set off for your workday. Before you part ways to your separate cars, you kiss Javi sweetly and tell him you'll call his cell when you get the dinner plans from Sasha.
You have the whole drive to the embassy to fawn, besotted and looking forward to spending a night with the two men you care about.
Javi's looking forward to it too, which is why he doesn't want to give any quarter to the stress of the impending raid that is on slow burn in his mind. Not even when Feistl calls him and says there's a slight tweak to the planned transpo route. He goes up to speak to Crosby and tells him he'll need him to back his play with the Minister of Defense in the meeting the following morning, and tolerantly, the ambassador agrees. However, Javier's not naïve enough to think the man will keep wanting to stick his neck out with the Colombians, so he knows he has to be very careful with maneuvering the proverbial landmine field.
He's ruminating about it in his office when his cell phone starts ringing.
"Peña."
"Hey, stud. You free to talk?" you purr into his ear, which instantly eases the tension between Javi's brows as he leans back into his chair.
"Yeah. All set for tonight?" he asks, reaching for his discarded packet of nicotine gum so he can pop one loose and start weaning his craving to have a smoke for the rest of the day.
"Mmhmm. He got reservations for 8pm at a steakhouse. Want to meet at my place and go together?" you propose, sounding cool and at ease.
He likes this – the feeling of normalcy and having something to look forward to with you. "Sounds like a plan. I'll be there by 7:30pm. I'll stop at my place to shower and change," Javi remarks as he chews his gum and glances at his watch. "I gotta go. See you tonight, hermosa," he adds in a murmur, smirking when you hum almost thoughtfully. "What?"
"Can you wear that dark gray sports coat? With the black dress shirt I like so much?" you lilt sweetly, earning a charmed grunt from Javi before you silkily murmur, "I think they'd look just as great on the floor at the end of the night as they will on you, once I strip you and have my way riding you."
"Santa Madre de Dios, woman. You trying to get me riled the fuck up at work?" Javi hisses in a surly timbre that has you impishly dragging your top teeth over your bottom lip as you sit back in your chair and relish him husking, "For being such a tease, I might just bend you over my knee and spank you later tonight—"
"Mmm, didn't you have to run, agente?" you goad, grinning when you hear his surly grunt. "I love you."
"Love you too, atrevida. See you tonight."
You're smiling with a whimsical gleam in your eyes when Ellis knocks on your door before popping in. "Got a sec?"
You wave him in. "What's up?"
He sits across from you with a manila folder in his hands. "So, that list you got from the CIA station chief? I vetted all the names," he tells you as he holds up the folder before tossing it onto your desk. You open it and see the pages of profiles he gathered for each. "These are all either Intelligence or Open Source assets the agency contracts. It's very odd," Ellis explains, adding, "Some of these guys already have a technology background, so not sure why they would need to be part of a pilot like ours? Not to mention the fact that they're mostly contractors sends up red flags."
You flip through the profiles, expression becoming stoic – guarded. What is he looking to do by gaining access to the pilot? "I agree. Really, these resources don't seem to even have any reason to require access to the database, outside of using it as a clandestine network to filter classified information that the pilot is not at all meant to support. Very weird," you ponder out loud as you lean back into your chair and look at Ellis. "Would you recommend any of these being appropriate for the pilot program onboarding?"
"Yeah ��� two of them fall under our parameters. The rest? There's just no rhyme or reason," Ellis retorts and crosses his arms.
"Alright. Let's get those two in the queue," you remark, so your deputy gives you the names of the candidates and a quick justification for each. You note the details on their files with a sticky note and close the folder. "I'll let Stechner know they can start immediately."
"I heard that dude doesn't really have an office, let alone a deputy to keep his calendar. How're you gonna update him?" Ellis queries.
Smirking coyly, you remark, "I have an idea in mind. There are plenty of ways to know the comings and goings of people in this building."
Javi's afternoon is blessedly uneventful, all considering, so he's able to head over to his place, shower, and get ready for tonight without any delay. So much so, he's twenty minutes early to your apartment. He unlocks the door and lets himself in, considerately calling out, "Hey, cariño. No rush. I know I'm early."
"No problem! I'm almost ready," you call out from the bedroom, so Javi takes the chance to look at himself in the mirror over the side table to make sure he looks ok. He finger-combs a lock of hair back from his forehead and brushes his fingers over his moustache. Idly, he wonders how dressed up you'll get and if he underdressed by wearing a pair of black jeans and his favorite boots instead of trousers and nice loafers. His train of thought gets derailed when you announce, "Ok, all set," as you stroll out of the bedroom.
Javi looks over and almost swoons. You're in the bronze corset dress Sasha gifted you, a pair of terracotta nude heels – hair swept up in a twist and cascading fully from the clip, eyes bright and lips rouged. The halo diamond studs are twinkling in your earlobes while you're arranging the items in your clutch purse and adjusting the champagne-toned shoulder wrap flung on your forearm as you stroll down the hall towards him. You look up from your purse and see how handsome he looks, and how he's staring at you. A flutter of excitement blooms in your womb and heats your skin as he ogles you covetously.
"You look gorgeous, querida," he husks as he leans forward to brush a kiss to your cheek. He wants to add 'Goddamn. I can't fucking believe that you're mine,' but decides against it when you smile serenely and caress his cheek.
"And you, ever the guapetón," you purr and stand back to admire him.
"I definitely underdressed," he chuckles as he pockets his keys and escorts you to the door.
"Not at all! You look great. Sasha gifted me this dress so I wanted to show it off," you retort warmly as you drape the wrap around your shoulders and head out, with Javi locking up before he walks with you down the steps and across the courtyard to his SUV.
Once in the car, you give him the directions to the restaurant. You both arrive at the finest steakhouse you've both been to, so you admire the lacquered furniture and sumptuous décor while shrugging your wrap off as Javi checks in. The ambiance of the restaurant is high-class but timeless, with the warm hum of activity and chatter. In minutes, you get escorted by the hostess, and are led through the dark-wood-paneled dining hall towards a more secluded area with semi circle booths wrapped in warm, tufted leather. Sasha is sitting at the one tucked in the corner, looking ever dapper, as he smiles at seeing you both hand-in-hand before exiting his seat to greet you with convivial charm.
"Damn, ketsele. You look ravishing," Sasha boasts and hugs you affectionately before turning to Javier and extending his hand. "So glad you could join us for dinner, Javi."
Shaking the man's hand, Javi rumbles, "So am I. Although, I clearly underdressed."
He says so because Sasha is dressed like he just stepped out of The Great Gatsby. The black suit jacket with thin pinstripes contrasts with the satiny sheen of his vest and the crisp white of his open-collared dress shirt. The man always looked expensive, from his dark slicked back hair to his polished leather loafers and diamond-encrusted pinky ring. Javi felt like a porter standing next to him, in his decade-old coat and well-worn leather boots.
"Nonsense! We just like to be showoffs and dress up for each other," Sasha assures and gestures for you both to have a seat.
You pull Javi along to slip into the cozy booth after you, and soon enough, the three of you are sitting together under the dim-yet-warm sconce-like lamplight. Sasha orders the best bottle of wine they've got, and gazes affably over at Javi. They're across from each other while you sit in the center of the semi-circle-styled booth, leaning closer to Javi's side. The waiter returns with the bottle and seamlessly pours a serving in one glass, waiting for Sasha to have a taste. Your friend assents to it being of quality and the other glasses are filled and served. Once you've all looked at the menu and placed your orders, you primly set the napkin over your lap and take a sip of your wine, feeling suddenly nervous.
"So, you're leaving Colombia a lot sooner than planned?" Javi inquires, breaking the ice and making small talk.
"Sadly, yes. Some business opportunities back in the states. But, I'll be back in a couple of months once the exhibition's residency here is completed in order to oversee things get stored and shipped back appropriately," Sasha retorts, voice smooth as velvet before he takes a sip of his wine. "Enough about me! I want to know just what you said to my dear ketsele to get her to take you back—"
"Sasha," you warn sharply and shoot him an admonishing look. You were afraid he might pull this, but were hoping he would've taken your word for it when you'd told him earlier than things were great with Javi.
Javier senses your displeasure, but doesn't get the impression Sasha is trying to be malicious or confrontational. So, he sets his wine glass aside and leans casually back into the booth. "I groveled. Showed up at her hotel, flashed my badge to get her room number from front desk, and then plead for her to hear me out," Javi responds with no ounce of umbrage, then glances over at you as he adds, "I'd wrote her a letter, and she totally ignored it for days, so I had to take drastic measures and go see her—"
"Oh my god, you're such an exaggerator!" is your snarky scoff as you crack a smile and shove his shoulder lightly. "He left the letter in my car, and I was mad and shoved it in my purse. I didn't immediately read it and ignore it, you paquetero! I read it right before I took the trip, and sobbed like an idiot at the airport bar, I'll have you know," you sneer vivaciously before quirking a snippy brow at Javi, who looks taken aback before you turn to narrow your gaze at Sasha. "But yes, he groveled, and apologized profusely, and declared his undying love, so, there!"
Sasha and you have a stare off before your friend's blue eyes crest with mirth as he bursts into hearty laughter. Your brash detailing of the situation has stupefied Javi, and it isn't until you gaze over at him with an adoringly mischievous pout that he cracks a relieved smile and joins Sasha in laughing.
It entirely diffuses any and all tension between you three, and instantly, everyone's guard is down as you drink and socialize with congeniality and affection. The food arrives, and it doesn't dissuade the conversation in the least, and after Sasha orders a second bottle of wine, you lean into Javi's side and internally beam when he pulls you close and nuzzles a kiss to your jaw. He smells warm and spicy, scent clean of smoke while simmering with something heady and masculine. It's turning you on. No – Javi is turning you on the more you sit there and enjoy him chatting with Sasha over anything and everything.
"—So how often did you two go to Studio54?"
"Enough to always be on the list. Steve always told Marc, the head door guy, to grandfather my name onto the list every night, and let in whomever I had with me. One of the few perks of being the son of my father…"
Perking up to pull him back from stewing about his father, you chime, "Oh my god, remember the time they turned away the guy who played Fonzie?"
Sasha laughs out and leans over the table to whisper, "I remember he was pissed as he shoved by us, so I went 'Aaaaay!' and then grabbed her and ran into the club."
You cackle that effervescent laugh while Javi marvels at the mental image. "You were such a dork for that—"
"Oh, yeah, sure. Give me a break, ketsele. You loved every minute of it—"
"I most certainly did. But overtime, the club started getting super grimy," you cut in and conspiratorially drawl to Javi, "This one went into one of the cruising rooms in the basement once, and I found him just before he was about to do something real dumb—"
"Hey, don't go telling Javi about my exploits!" Sasha hisses comically and tosses his napkin at you. "But yeah, fine – it became an unsavory place, after a while. Definitely would've been a great place for the DEA to target, that's for sure," he quips daringly and looks over at Javi with a brazen grin. Javi's imbibed enough to be nice and mellow from the wine while you're obviously a bit tipsy, so Sasha pours himself another full glass without any shame. He has a high-tolerance for alcohol, and it would take at least two more bottles before he got truly drunk. You know that, so you precociously squeeze his elbow, as if to tell him you're gonna pace yourself. He winks in acknowledgement and chimes in a raspy tone, "Definitely would've been one hell of a place to get busted at," then purses his pink lips at you.
"Sounds like it would've been a hell of a lot more entertaining than the kind of raids I've been on," Javi jibes and caresses the back of your nape when you lean into him and snicker. "Luckily for you two, I didn't take the New York field office job after I got out of the academy," he can't help razz as he squeezes your side irreverently.
"Oh, ketsele was always a good girl in that regard. No party favors for her," Sasha intones glibly as he sidles into the booth to lean closer in order to whisper, "Unlike me." Before Javi can react, the debonair man croons, "I'm afraid you'd have busted me…and I might've liked it," then bounced his brows bawdily before grinning wolfishly at him.
You swat Sasha on the chest and snicker, "Quit teasing him, velvel. You already told me he isn't your type."
The blush flares up Javi's neck and radiates in his cheeks, confounded that you both seemingly had talked about him within the parameters of Sasha finding him attractive or not.
"Not my type, sure, but Javi here is hot," he tells you, as if Javier isn't sitting there looking flummoxed by the change in subject. "But you can't have two tops—"
You whip him on the shoulder with the napkin he'd tossed at you previously. "Stop being crass, bub. He's mine and that's that," you razz and wave your hand to shoo Sasha away.
"Tops?" Javi blurts, confused.
"Oh, uh, that's slang. Basically, we're both alphas - dominant. That just wouldn't work," Sasha explains, gesturing with his hand to himself and Javier, as he squeezes your knee cheekily under the table. "Two dominant partners usually doesn't work. One would need to surrender to the other, and alphas rarely choose to be submissive," your dear friend explains as he grabs the wine bottle and tops your glass off for you.
That comment spurs Javi to rub your shoulder sensually as he eyes the other man. "But you must've made an exception, seeing as you let her strap one on," Javier daringly counters, smirking wickedly when Sasha balks. Yep. She's told me stuff about you too, dude.
You've shifted to stare at him in awe – surprised Javi would be just as brazen with your friend. None of your ex's have ever done that, seemingly too intimidated or unnerved by Sasha to deign challenging him.
"…I did say it usually doesn't work. It's not an absolute, Javi darling," Sasha lobs back and grins before purring, "I'm happy to know you two alphas have made it work, though."
Scoffing, you playfully shove Sasha back to his side of the booth and order, "Alright, enough with the provocative back and forth, you. I need to use the ladies room, so move." He snickers and exits so you can slink out. "You two behave while I'm gone," is your sassy jibe as you glare and gesture with your clutch between Javi and Sasha sternly before you strut off towards the restroom.
Javi snorts and watches you go – unaware that Sasha is eyeing him, sizing him up with keen interest. The look in Javier's dark eyes is one of profound fondness for you, with a gleam of desire that heats them in the lowlight.
Sasha approves, so he grunts and idly swirls his glass, sending the wine to whirlpool languidly. "I apologize for being bawdy. It was just too fun to instigate her sassiness," he remarks, gaining Javi's full attention.
"It's fine, just as long as it's only instigating," Javi retorts sarcastically before sipping from his glass. Swallowing the last of his wine, he adds richly, "I know how much you both care for each other. You're very important to her—"
"And she's vitally important to me," Sasha firmly cuts in, giving Javi a very sober stare down now. "For as long as I've known her, she's never cared this much for anyone, so, like I told you before: I only want her to be content and happy, and she seemed so with you. I hope you can keep that up, moving forward," he remarks, before deciding to add, "I won't pretend to have any standing to further comment about it, so I'll only say that in regards to she and I? You never have to worry."
Javi absorbs that, and nods. "I was out of fucking line for how I reacted. As soon as I really thought about it, I realized I didn't care about that. I just…I love her, and being with her is all that matters to me," he unselfconsciously declares to the imposing man with the striking blue eyes, and is surprised when said eyes soften, so he drops his guard down a little more. "Also, in regards to the previous topic? I just don't swing that way."
Cracking a smile, Sasha relaxes in his seat again. "Fair point. Even if you did though, she already told me she would never share you," he goadingly purrs and winks at Javi before taking a long sip from his glass while Javi chuckles and shakes his head wryly.
By the time you strut back to the booth, Javi and Sasha are in friendly conversation. You overhear Sasha regaling Javi with the story of how you'd met, approaching the table in time to hear Javi drawl nonjudgmentally, "So, she was jailbait when you met her?"
"Obviously. She was going to school with my kid sister, after all. I figured if they were going to sneak downtown and go to clubs, I might as well be their escort," Sasha is countering. "No one would dare mess with them if I was around, so it gave me peace of mind—"
"You're telling him my exploits now?" you taunt, giving Sasha a haughty look before purposely going to the side of the booth Javi is in and smiling when he scoots further in to allow you to sit in his spot, which slides him to the center and closer to Sasha.
"Our exploits, technically. I was telling him about when we first met – how you and Irina sprinted up with your purses and heels in your hands to jump into the car to avoid getting caught out of your dorm after curfew," he razzes and grins when you roll your eyes and lean into Javi. "She gave me this bossy scowl, and I just couldn't stop staring at her eyes. My sister had helped her curl her lashes, so with the dark mascara and the red lipstick, she just had a striking look," he describes and smirks at you. "Remember? I asked if you were going for the Liza look, and you scoffed at me?"
"Really? Scoffing? That doesn't sound familiar at all," Javi purrs teasingly as he drapes his arm around your shoulders, herding you into his side while you scoff irreverently at them both.
Your mind replays the reminiscence. Irina had scooted to the other seat in the back of the limo, forcing you to sit next to Sasha. Your hair was bouncy and sassy, styled like Brigitte Bardot's, and your dress was a shiny red lycra – hugging your body and making it obvious that you didn't have a bra on. The dazzling stare you gave Sasha when Irina rushed the introductions as the driver sped away from the school was forever imprinted in his memory. You don't know that though, remembering only how surprised you'd been to see Irina's reclusive brother was a devastatingly handsome and muscular hunk. The long-sleeved black polo and maroon fitted trousers accentuated his toned physique, and only him comparing you to Liza Minnelli made you stop looking at him with intrigue – scoffing and rolling your eyes before sassing, "Liza? Really?"
His handsome, clean-shaven features had softened with his beaming grin. He'd susurrated, "Yes, really. Want to be my muse? I'd love to sculpt you."
The sheer confidence he exuded with such a come-on had disarmed you, causing you to crack a smile and playfully shove his shoulder. That was all it took for you and Sasha to become life-long friends, through the good, the bad, and the very scarily ugly.
Snickering now, you tease, "Yeah, familiar because you're both dorks who always do scoff-worthy things."
Javi grunts and sarcastically drawls, "Just admit you're wicked and ridiculously bossy."
"You are, ketsele," Sasha piles on smugly as he finishes his wine.
"Hmm, you've referred to her by that a lot. What's it mean?" Javi turns to Sasha and asks curiously while you wrap your arms around his torso and tuck into him, completely relaxed and at ease now.
"Oh, it's Yiddish for 'little kitten.' I started calling her that because she reminded me of the mean little kitten my mother once got—" Sasha pauses his derisive explanation when you grab the nearest napkin and toss it at him. "See? Super cute and sweet, but liable to scratch your eyes out if you're not careful."
The rationale has Javi cracking up, laughing that warm, baritone rasp that sends heat to spiral effervescently in your tummy. "Very fitting," he purrs and kisses the top of your hairline.
By the time dessert arrives, you're both filling Javi in on all the hallmarks of your relationship. You end up on the topic of club-hopping again, so you end up irreverently mentioning how Sasha was always unfazed meeting celebs, except for two, which caused you to tease in your best Liza Minnelli impression, "Oh, darling. Is it ever a wonder how tickled I was to see you get utterly flustered when you met me, Liza, and my most dearest friend, H?!"
"Oh, hate you," Sasha sputters before laughing and turning red with retroactive mortification. "You're just the meanest, kitten—"
Javi is glancing from him to you when you snicker, "So, Sasha's always had this thing for Halston – the designer? Well, Halston was always at the club, but Sasha would never have the guts to go up and say anything. Also, I'm pretty sure the man was stoned off his ass most nights, so I doubt it would've been the best move. But then one time, we went, and who is in the VIP balcony? Halston and his very close, dear friend, Liza!" you're recounting while Sasha takes another bite of his flan to keep from interrupting you out of frazzled huffiness. "I remembered what he'd said to me in the car that night we met, so, I looped my arm in his and dragged him up to them and introduced Sasha to them."
"And?" Javi nudges you to continue when Sasha glares at you.
"And I said something like, 'Mister Halston. A pleasure and a privilege. This is my dear friend Sasha, who's a fantastic artist who adores your work. So much so, that he makes me model some of your pieces after sex, because he says your garments accentuate my post-bliss glow.' Liza laughed, and Halston just smiled and dabbed his cigarette holder all posh-like before drawling, 'Well, that's the nicest thing I've heard all night.'"
Jaw-dropped, Javi glances over at Sasha when he laconically exclaims, "I thought my heart was going to explode in my chest."
"I mean, it was the truth, and he didn't tell us to fuck off, so," is your amused lilt, then sly murmur to Javi, "Sasha always said I was the Liza to his Halston, so of course I had to capitalize and seize the moment."
He chuckles and gives Sasha a conspiratorial look. "Don't worry. She's still fucking recklessly daring like that. Did she tell you about how she had my partner sneak her onto CNP's base of operations just to surprise me in our dorm for my birthday?"
You gasp and sit up, balking at Javi while Sasha grins. "No, she most certainly did not, but do tell, Javi darling!"
Javier does, and your cheeks are practically rosy from the retelling, and Sasha delights in it. The three of you continue to share anecdotes, many of which have you at the center, before you realize the restaurant is mostly empty.
Sasha catches your glance, so he rumbles, "I think they're going to shoo us out soon, krasivaya, so before I forget, I have something for you." As he reaches into a pocket inside his jacket, he glances at Javier and warns, "Don't get too mad, but, I saw these and thought they'd look lovely on my little kitten, so I just had to get them."
He places a small felt-covered square box onto the table and slides it over to you. The sight of it has some vacant panic ebbing up in Javi's chest as you pick it up and gaze in awestruck surprise at Sasha, who just smirks at you, blue eyes twinkling with warmth. You pull the flocked box open, revealing a brilliant pair of emerald and diamond earrings. The studs are in a white-gold setting, with the precious stone done in an emerald cut and haloed with dazzling white diamonds.
You gasp and stare at your friend in awe while Javi hides his bemusement behind that practiced, cool regard of his as you beam, "They're beautiful, Sasha!" Normally, you'd be throwing your arms around him in a bear hug, but Javi is sitting between you, so you reach for his hand and pull it over so you can clasp it affectionately over the tabletop. "It's too extravagant and you shouldn't have—"
"Ah, quit it. I got ima an emerald necklace, and a nice emerald tennis bracelet for Irina. I saw those and thought of you," he tells you with unrelenting charm as he flags the waiter and gestures for him to bring the check.
Javi adjusts the box so he can look at the elegant earrings, knowing good and goddamn well that if he'd purchased them, they would've run him half a year's salary, easily. "You get her those too?" he finds himself asking, gesturing to the diamonds currently in your ears.
"Ah, yes. Those were a birthday gift—"
"No, you gave me these after your last art show premiere," you amend as you close the box and slip it into your purse.
"Which was a week before your birthday," Sasha insists, then drawls to Javi, "She's always gotta be right."
"Shit, don't I know it," Javi snickers, and you squeeze his thigh admonishingly, earning a grin from him that you lean forward to kiss off his face cheekily.
The post-dinner lull settles in a few minutes later, and when Javi checks his watch, you gently stare over at Sasha after he's finished paying the bill. "The fact that Javi didn't fight you to pay the check is proof that you've won him over, bub. Good job," is your derisive purr as you slink out of the booth and round it to give Sasha the bear hug you owed him.
Javi snorts and exits his seat. "You and I work in government, querida. And that bottle of wine alone was what, the equivalent of three figures?" he remarks as he considerately drapes your wrap over your shoulders for you.
"Four, actually," Sasha remarks smoothly as he gestures for you both to follow his lead out to the restaurant's foyer. "I had a fantastic time. I'm so happy you could indulge me," he's remarking to Javi once you exit the restaurant, turning to shake his hand and pulling him in for a platonic hug. "Take care of my little kitten," he tells Javi in a hushed tone, one you don't hear.
Javier pats Sasha on the shoulder and nods, his earnest, soulful eyes holding his cerulean gaze with confidence. "It was nice seeing you again, Sasha," he tells your dear friend and smiles when you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and give him another fierce hug.
"I love you, bub. Thanks for everything," you murmur sweetly before kissing his cheek.
"Be good, ketsele," he rumbles and gives you one last squeeze as the valet pulls Javi's car up to the curb. "Don't do anything that I wouldn't do with your hot lover," Sasha whispers wickedly in your ear and grins wolfishly when you snicker and swat his shoulder. Once Javi has opened the passenger door for you and you've slipped in, Sasha tells you, "Love you, krasivaya."
He closes the door and waves you both off as Javi drives away. You watch in the rearview as your friend slips into the back of the town car that pulls up immediately at the curb before driving off to his hotel.
"What's krasivaya?" Javi asks you while he keeps his eyes on the road.
"It means 'beautiful' in Russian," you answer and gaze over at him, anticipating it might annoy him, but instead, Javi smiles and glances over at you.
"Can't argue with that, hermosa," he purrs, shooting you an affectionate wink.
By the time you get home, you're feeling the wine buzzing in your veins, making you very loose as you lope into your bedroom to hurriedly get your heels off before you fall over while Javi locks up and strides in after you. With a serene sigh, you shed the wrap, placing it and your clutch on the dresser.
"I had such a great time tonight," you remark silkily as you take your diamond earrings off and place them in your jewelry box before taking down your hair and shaking it loose to undulate down your shoulders. When you turn to Javi, you find him leaning against the doorframe, watching you with a heated look in his molten eyes. It makes your heart summersault in your chest and excitement skitter down into your core.
"I enjoyed it too," he remarks as he sheds his sports coat while he lopes over to sit at the foot of the bed, watching you with a look of sensual appraisal. "So much so, I won't even spank your sexy ass for your naughty stunt on the phone today," Javier grouses as he contemplatively stares at you.
"Oh, yeah?" you hitch out, a little titillated by that provocative edge he's taken on. "Have something else in mind, then?" you counter, leaning back into the dresser to feign coyness.
"Actually, yeah," Javi rumbles as he slowly unbuttons his dress shirt's cuffs before leaning cockily back on his propped arms. "Strip out of that sexy fucking dress and show me what you have on under it," he orders in a baritone husk that rakes tantalized desire through you from head to toe.
Suppressing the shiver of excitement, you unzip your dress and slowly ease the straps down your arms before undulating your hips to shimmy the tight, corseted, slim-fit garment off to pool at the floor. You reveal the strapless tan bustier bra and matching lace panties, and stare obediently at him, as if waiting for his next order. Arousal coils in Javi's apex as you stand there, from how you wet your plush lips and fold your arms behind yourself sexily.
Enticed, Javier unbuttons his shirt and kicks his boots off before casually lounging on his side. His dark eyes survey you intently before he orders, "Take those off."
You do, unclasping the bustier and discarding it to the floor before stripping your now soaked panties to stand nude and beyond turned on before him, knowing Javi will reward you if you obey him. The usual defiant fight isn't in you right now after the wonderful night you've had. No, you want to happily give yourself over to his dominance and enjoy being his – to surrendering to his whims so you can bask in carnal delight.
Pleased with your sultry acquiescence, Javi surprises you by eyeing you deliberately before telling you, "Put those earrings on."
Hesitating, you're trying to decipher what that's about, before you catch the dark glean of some base urge sear across his features and darken his smoldering gaze.
Retrieving the box from your purse, you remove the studs and put them on before standing in presentation before him.
Javi hums, sitting up to caress his hands down your hourglass shape – admiringly dragging his gaze over your supple body. "Fucking beautiful," he rumbles in a roughened pitch that has need tingling between your thighs. With a nudge of your hips, Javi has you turn so you can see yourself in the reflection of the mirror propped in the corner. You still, enchanted with how he stares into your eyes in the reflection. "I don't know how I got so lucky, to have a fucking stunner like you. You could easily have any man you want…and instead, you're mine," he murmurs in a velvet-over-steel tone that has you clenching your thighs.
You turn and cup the hinges of his jaw to tip his face up so you can gaze lovingly into his eyes. "No te pongas celoso por los lujos," you susurrate as your brush your lips over his. He grunts at you cooing that he not get jealous over the luxuries, referring to Sasha's flashy gifts and boastful shows of wealth. "You're the only one I want, mi amor. I only want to be with you," is your murmur as you lean forward to capture his lips.
Javi groans into the kiss, deepening it with the glide of his tongue into the cup of your mouth as he sweeps you up into his arms and takes you to bed. He hastily strips out of his clothes while you lie like a sensual goddess, emeralds twinkling in the lowlight and giving you a spritely quality, especially when you stare alluringly at him as he prowls over you to settle between your thighs. His golden suntan skin is warm in the yellow glow of the light spilling in from the hall, as he presses against you while he runs his hands over your body. He relishes how you gasp and drip arousal onto his cock as he ruts along the seam of your pussy.
"I want to give you everything. You deserve everything, querida," Javi exhales huskily as he fondles your breasts and suckles kisses along your torso. "Wish I could give you anything you desire—"
Your breath catches in your chest as you arch and reach for him, pulling him down into your passionate embrace so you can kiss his petitions away.
"Things don't matter to me, Javi. What matters to me, is you – being happy with you," you whisper, and when he exhales a tensely relieved breath, you sigh and surprise him by rolling so you can straddle his lap and gaze down at him. "Just you and me. Belonging to each other," you silkily purr as you rut your dripping pussy over his rock-hard cock.
In awe at the wave of emotions that crest up in him, Javi just stares worshipfully up at you. Your hair is wild and tousled, breasts heavy and supple in his hands when you guide them up to cup and squeeze them while you undulate your hips to grind yourself over his cock. The look in your eyes sends lust to sear him through, causing him to feel amorously torn asunder by your passionate words and beguiling beauty.
We belong to each other.
When you lean forward to kiss him and caress your hands up his neck to cup his jaw, Javier clutches at your waist and groans, getting lost in the kiss until you break it by leaning back and staring hungrily at him. That's all it takes for his control to splinter.
Javi's dark eyes flare with something primal as he sits up and maneuvers to swiftly bury his cock into your clenching heat as he pivots you back down onto the bed in order to dominate you.
You moan and grip his toned, corded arms as he snaps his hips in a pounding thrust that picks up pace when you tilt your pelvis up so his cock can plunder you to the hilt of your rippling, silken cunt. The sensual wail you let out as you toss your head back has Javi grousing burningly, "Te voy a dar todo, mi amor."
Gasping at the scorching feeling of rapture his words stir up while he keeps fucking you rough and hard, you feel overcome. You believe him – that he's going to give you everything, and it rocks you. The buzz from the wine is gone, and the flood of pleasure unfurling through your tissue has your toes curling and fingers gripping his arms as you cry, "You do! You already give me everything, Javi—"
He pulls you up against him and buries his face between your breasts when he slams into you until he's seated in your throbbing heat. "I don't. I haven't…but I will, querida," Javier whispers hoarsely before wrapping an arm around your back so he can curl you up to meet his yearning kiss.
Pleasure simmering over when you wrap your legs around him and cling to Javi after a particularly deep thrust, you gasp and bury your fingers into his hair to anchor yourself while he fucks you into a fulfilling stupor. Everything is swirling in you, and you feel so alight that when he drives into you hard enough to make colors burst in the backs of your eyes, you cry out, "Right there! Oh Javi—Javi—!"
"Take me, take all of me—" he growls dominantly, and you're so far gone, flung over the edge into soul-shattering pleasure that you can't hear his filthy praise as you come undone and orgasm fiercely in his arms. You sob and bury your face in the crook of his neck as he slams you onto his cock over and over until his own hips stutter. He clutches at you desperately as his climax barrels through him, filling you with the pulsing bloom of his release while his moan of reaching bliss dissolves into a gruff keen of your name just as he shakily collapses on the bed with you.
His weight is heaven in the stifling wreckage of your bodies being entangled exhaustedly in each other. It guides you down from the high of the mind-blowing orgasm, and helps ground you into the carnal completion – in the bliss of being satiated and tethered to Javi.
You're both sweaty and warm, limbs heavy from the exhaustion of a fervent coupling that has you still clinging to Javi even after he shifts onto his side.
"Jesus fucking Christ…" he exhales gruffly, nuzzling you before husking, "¿Estás bien, mi vida?"
You let out a delighted, ardent breath before rasping, "You just fucked me into the stratosphere, so, I'm perfect, Javi."
He exhales a rugged sound of approval before pulling out of your still fluttering cunt, wavering when he adjusts to sprawl exhaustedly onto his back next to you. You sigh airily and cuddle close, languidly running your fingers to trace the side of his face and caress into the damp hair at his temple. It soothes him, and gives you serenity, so you close your eyes and relax in the post-coital bliss.
There's a beat of silence, where only your slowing, deep breathing fills the room.
"…Do you still have one of those dresses?"
Dimly, you hum and curl your face up towards him. "Huh?"
"From the designer. The one whose stuff you'd wear?" Javier rumbles provocatively, voice smoky as he purrs, "Would love to see your boosted post-bliss glow for myself."
The rush of warmth that floods your bloodstream and ekes lurid thrill into you at his bawdy request has you leaning up and smiling brilliantly. "I do."
Javi grins, showing off that boyish dimple you love in his cheek, and rumbles, "Put it on for me?"
How could you ever deny him, when he stares with those dark brewed, soulful eyes and that soft, handsome regard at you?
When you saunter out of the closet in the ethereal caftan with nothing on underneath, Javier stares in awe. The warm light coming from the hall illuminates the room enough for him to admire the accentuated beauty of your form, and how dewy and vibrant your skin is – apples of your cheeks still flushed, lips swollen and plush as you smile alluringly at him and give him a little seductive spin. The way your hair sways with your movements and the dazzling twinkle of the emerald and diamonds in your earlobes have Javi punch-drunk. A fucking angel. My sexy, stunning angel…
He gazes with pining satisfaction as he lounges on the bed, coolly smoking his cigarette while he watches you elegantly pose for him.
"Well?" you goadingly lilt and idly embrace your figure with a coy smile when he's just silently admiring you with those intense brown eyes of his.
Javi stubs his cigarette out in the ashtray and sits up with a confident swagger before impulsively caressing his hand over his jaw. "When he's right…he's right. Utterly beautiful," he drawls, smugly adding, "But now, you get to model your post-bliss glow just for me." You clench your thighs and shiver, eyes sultrily gazing at him, so Javi growls, "Take it all off and come back to bed."
You shed the chic caftan and remove the elegant emeralds, then nimbly prowl onto the bed to slink over Javi and capture his lips before settling over his lap and making good on your promise to ride him.
Considering he got hard all over again by just leering at you in the slinky, billowy material, he was more than content to let you have your way with him.
After reaching release together, you both surrendered to the sheer exhaustion and fell asleep on the disheveled bedding, tangled in each other's embrace.
The next morning, Javi wakes you up when he sits on the bed to put his shoes on, already showered and dressed in dark gray slacks and a white button shirt for his big meeting. Shifting drowsily to slink across the bed, you sit up and lean into his back, looping your arms around his torso and hugging him. He relaxes in your arms and relishes the quiet moment of calm he seems to only find when he's in your loving grace, and when you kiss the nape of his neck, Javi lets out a deep sigh.
"Depending on how it goes with Botero…I might be going straight into the prep for the raid," he's volunteering, tone sober and thoughtful. "I'll call you—"
You adjust to sit up properly so you can straddle his lap and hug him lovingly. "I need you to be careful, Javi. I trust you to be safe during the raid, but you need to be careful about the rest of it," you find yourself telling him with conviction, before burying your face in the crook of his neck. "I don't want to lose you like before…"
He encircles you tightly, absorbing that. The hitch in your voice made his heart heavy, so he husks, "You won't. It's different this time. I promise."
Exhaling a terse breath, you scoff at yourself. "Ignore the weird, naked woman in your lap," you chide self-deprecatingly as you shift back onto the bed to wrap yourself in the sheet protectively.
Reaching over to pull you back, Javi snickers, "I happen to like the weird, naked woman."
Giggling, you smile when he kisses you and rests his forehead to yours before he goes to grab his duffle and pack a change of clothes in it. "You take the goodies out of there, papisongo?" is your derisive drawl as you run your fingers through your hair and watch him wryly shake his head as he zips the bag up and pull his flower-like-patterned tie on.
"I stored them in your nightstand, atrevida," he chuckles and winks at you, finishing with his tie and grabbing his blazer to shrug it on before fastening his watch onto his wrist.
Laughing, you chime, "I'll let you keep 'em there for the time being." He snorts at that while you get out of bed on aching muscles and slink into your robe in order to see him off. Once at the door, you wrap your hands around his shoulders and slink against him so you can kiss him goodbye. "I love you," is your breathy whisper when he hugs you.
"I love you too. I promise that I'll be careful, cariño," he kisses your cheek and caresses the curve of your waist. "I'll call you when I can."
Nodding, you stand on your tippy toes and give him one last peck on the lips. "Good luck, agente. I expect you back to me in one piece, me oyes?"
Smirking, he shoulders his duffle and cheekily kisses your jaw before drawling, "Sí, patrona," as he opens the door and struts out.
Humming amusedly, you watch him go, heart heavy with worry, but hopeful that he'll finally be rid of the albatross that is the Cali cartel once and for all so you can both pursue things to the next level.
Going back to sprawl out in wistful thought on your bed, you can't help reminisce about Javi fussing with the cat yesterday, and how you'd almost teased him about using it as practice for when there's a little one sleeping between you. Where did that even come from?
It'd been unconscious – some primal suggestion that you'd never entertained in the slightest, and had not only paused at, but hastily shoved away into the recesses of your mind, writing it off as some girlish fluke. That it was just a silly trifle that irrationally sprung up out of the loving absurdity of the moment.
Reaching over to hug his pillow to your chest, you decide not to give it any quarter and just hope for what is very much in the now at the forefront of your mind: Javi's safety and success. With that mantra now in your thoughts, you spring up to get ready for your day, having your own work to worry about.
The kind of turmoil and uncertainty that awaits you and Javi will catch you both off guard, but you'll each do your best to be able and willing to confront it head on.
It's only the callous reality of your situations that neither of you will be prepared to handle.
________________
Read Chapter 30: Ballad - Part 1
Spanish-English Glossary:
Gruñón = Grumpy man
Preciosa = Gorgeous; precious
Chavón = a man that's pestering you
Tiernita = Tender little girl
Pobrecita = Poor little thing (female)
Malcriada/malcriado = Brat/spoiled
Guapita = Sassy/foxy/daring/testy lady
Cariño = darling/sweetheart
Sí, patrona = Yes, madam/ boss lady/mistress
Caleta = A hidden alcove; hiding spot
Maldita sea = Damn it
Batita = A little cotton nightgown or house robe
Tan friolenta = So sensitive to cold (female)
Querida = Affectionate term for a female, akin to expressing one's want and desire
Que malo eres = You're so bad; You're so mean
Mi amor = My love
Preciosa = Gorgeous; precious
Hermosa/hermoso = beautiful (female); beautiful (male)
Fresco = a guy who's being 'fresh', or naughty/pervy
Mi beyaquito = My little naughty perv
Caperucita Roja = Little Red Riding Hood
Pa' fuera = [Go] Outside
Muralla = fortified stone wall
Guapito = Handsome (said in an affectionate diminutive)
Santa Madre de Dios = Holy Mother of God
Atrevido/Atrevida = Daring man/Daring woman
Guapetón = Super handsome, good-looking guy
Paquetero = Puerto Rican slang for someone lying or exaggerating the truth
No te pongas celoso por los lujos = Don't get jealous over the luxuries
Te voy a dar todo, mi amor = I'm going to give you everything, my love
¿Estás bien, mi vida? = Are you all right, my life/love?
Papisongo = Puerto Rican slang for a very sexy man; a stud
Me oyes? = You hear me?
Thanks for reading! Please consider leaving a comment and sharing your feedback. I would be eternally grateful.
#Heat - Narcos fanfic#Javier Peña#Javi Peña#Javi x Querida#Javier Pena#Javi Pena#Javi Pena Narcos#Javi Pena fan fiction#Narcos#Narcos fan fiction#Javi Peña fan fiction#Javier Peña fan fiction#Pedro Pascal#pedro pascal characters#Javi Peña x Latina OFC
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I know that’s a super Felipa blog, which is why I’m following you! Keep it up babe! But: I want to talk about Dolores. Her gift is so crappy because she can literally hear everything en todo el tiempo BUT she’s also a bit of a chismosa. Do you think that has anything to do with her character/gift? Because that gift is so… Very scary. Which makes me think that she and Tío Bruno got along great. Anyway! Chismosa Dolores: yay or nay? (Sorry for the Spanglish, every time I talk about this family I just dive into it. It’s uncontrollable!) 
I feel like Dolores is gift was underwhelming when I first heard that was her gift
After watching the movie I feel like personally I’ve really warmed up to it??? Simply because I like how she’s so soft spoken & I think It was used as a funny way to drive the plot in the dinner scene
Although it makes me really think that Dolores doesn’t even mean to be a gossip most time!! She probably has the reputation of being chismosa but she must have a hard time keeping track of things people have & haven’t told her!!! Not to mention she probably has to hear any sorts of negative or rude remarks towards her because there’s literally not place where she can’t hear what people are saying, not even her room is a safe haven 😭😭😭
I want to know more about Dolores and her struggles!!! Especially since with the family tree she’s supposed to be the “oddball” of the family & I think it really has to do with the fact that she blurts out stuff people haven’t told her face to face yet because she over hears them
As for her & Bruno I really think they should get a long!!! Dolores was 12 when Bruno left so Bruno I think it’s pretty safe to say he tried to talk to both Isabela & Dolores to be nice to his nieces over the years but again, he’s an awkward guy & doesn’t really know how
But I feel like Dolores is definitely patient with people (I mean? I she definitely has to learn to be when she can hear everything at once which is definitely overwhelming at times) but now that she’s older she’s definitely matured which is a good path for both of them to start over on their family relationships & strength it in the process
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ACITW AU one-shot - “Draining Pipes” (Rated M)
Summary: After Sebastian is accidentally exposed to Covid, Kurt convinces him to quarantine. While the rest of the city is slowly opening up, Kurt is returning to a life that resembles normal. But for Sebastian, home alone without his boyfriend, isolation is changing him. And Kurt has some concerns... (2063 words)
Notes: Yes, this is a pandemic fic, but I promise, it's funny XD
Read on AO3.
"Hi, honey! I'm home!"
"Nope. Try again."
Kurt's head snaps up so quickly he stutters a step, nearly tripping over his feet even though he'd already stopped walking. He glares at Sebastian from across the room as if the man had gotten up from his seat, strolled over, and, without a word, vomited rancid sushi all over his Manolo Blahniks. "What?"
In a tone reminiscent of one his NYADA dance teacher, Cassie July, used that made Kurt prickle from head to toe, Sebastian says, "Try. again."
"Try what again?"
"Walking through the door."
Kurt spins around to examine the doorway, searching for clues about what he could have possibly done incorrectly. "And what, pray tell, is wrong with the way I walk through the door!?"
"Every time you come home, you say, 'Hi, honey! I'm home!'"
"Yeah, and... ?"
"It's boring. Unoriginal. It harkens back to an era of television situation comedy that had no hand in influencing our generation and, frankly, regurgitating it is beneath you and your dramatic talents."
Kurt plants his hands on his hips and gawks. What the hell happened to his boyfriend while he was away? He was only gone four hours! "Have you been rifling through my old schoolbooks again? I told you, there was no Illuminati conspiracy going on at NYADA!"
"Why don't you try something different?" Sebastian counters, neither confirming nor denying Kurt's accusation. "Something a bit more, dare I say, exotic?"
"Exotic?" Kurt scrunches his nose with distaste when he says it. Of all the words in the English language, that's one of his least favorite. "What constitutes exotic in your twisted opinion?"
"I don't know. Think of something. You're the creative, not me."
"What? I... " A dozen arguments about how he's just gotten home, how exhausted he is, how travel between here and the theater was a pain in the ass because some people still don't seem to understand what 'over the mouth AND nose' means so navigating his way through the subway was like playing a game of human Tetris with potentially infected pieces and that he's never been all that good at Tetris anyway! die on his lips.
It would be a waste of breath.
Still, Kurt doesn't know why he indulges him, but he turns on his heel and walks back out the door. After a few seconds of deep breathing in the hall to keep from screaming bloody murder, he storms back in and brightly declares, "Buenos dias, motherfucker! Como what's up?"
Seeing as the two of them speak fluent French, Spanglish is the most exotic thing he could come up with.
Sebastian nods in stoic approval. "Better. How goes life on the apocalyptic landscape?"
"I'm not selling my body for Cocoa Krispies if that's what you're asking," Kurt quips, wondering if this is how Sebastian acts at work and how no one has put the man through a window yet, partner or not.
"So what I'm hearing is you didn't bring home Cocoa Krispies."
"Nope. Sorry."
"Bitch."
"Yeah, well... " Kurt removes his shoes and socks, then sheds his coat, his messenger bag, his slacks, and his dress shirt, carefully piling them on a chair by the front door - their staging area for decontamination. While he undresses, he eyes Sebastian, not paying him an inch of mind, sitting on what has been dubbed the convalescence corner of the sofa, dressed in a soft white tee and flannel lounge pants, his laptop open on legs covered by a quilt his mother made for him when he was ten. Sebastian knows for a fact that Kurt is undressing and yet he's not leering at him, wolf-whistling under his breath or licking his lips like he's watching an Outback Steakhouse commercial. He's simply sitting in his spot, eyes glued to his laptop screen.
And Kurt loathes it.
Sebastian's attentions have been waning more and more lately, and even though it's savagely bruising Kurt's ego, he can't blame him.
Depending on how they choose to look at things, this situation could kind of, slightly, sort of be deemed Kurt's fault.
"Thank you again for doing this," Kurt says, extending an olive branch. He's been doing this so often over the past few months, he's started buying in bulk. "I can't tell you how much you keeping your distance and staying home has put my mind at ease."
Sebastian doesn't look at him when he replies: "No sweat, babe."
"I know it was just one small cough... and the kid was wearing two masks... and a face shield... "
"Hey, like you said, no need taking any chances. Right?"
"Right," Kurt agrees. And he believes it. He believed it then and he believes it now. Had the roles been reversed, Kurt would make the sacrifice, more than willing to lock himself away for the sake of curbing this disease and keeping Sebastian healthy.
But it isn't him.
And he feels like dirt going to work three days a week, returning to something that resembles normal knowing what Sebastian is missing out on.
"It's his mother's fault for not mentioning that her little plague rat has covid before I got stuck on the elevator with them," Sebastian says, possibly trying to make Kurt feel better even though his gaze hasn't shifted.
"But quarantining for six days longer than necessary? That's above and beyond! I mean it. You deserve a medal."
Sebastian tosses him a wink over his shoulder but he doesn't linger, giving half-naked Kurt only a brief once over. "I got you, fam. Besides, time's up tomorrow. Then... " He thousand-yard stares in the direction of the flat screen "... it's rat-hunting season."
"It hasn't been all bad, has it?" Kurt asks guiltily as Sebastian's eyes return to his laptop. He'll admit that maybe he did go a tad overboard when he'd found out Sebastian had been exposed, banishing him to one end of the penthouse and the guest bedroom, keeping him at broom handle length for the past nineteen days.
But they were almost in the clear! And that's the part that pisses Kurt off most.
The disease hasn't been eradicated, but there was a light at the end of the tunnel. The theater started allowing small groups to return for socially distanced practices. That's a huge win for Kurt. Being away from Broadway and rehearsals and opening nights and curtain calls... it was becoming difficult for him to breathe.
Sebastian was on the brink of going back to the office a few days a week, too. It wasn't so much not being at the office that bothered him, but the peripherals - eating lunch at his favorite deli or hitting the gym before dinner.
Sebastian had taken three tests after that fateful elevator incident, all of which came back negative, so he was confident everything would be alright. He was in the midst of planning his first in-person meeting, but Kurt balked, pointing out that there has been so much controversy over the accuracy of those tests. Sebastian offered to take three more if necessary, but regardless of the outcome, Kurt didn't feel it safe. And even though they had access to the vaccine (because money), being exposed, even minorly, pushed Sebastian's timetable for receiving his first dose back two weeks.
Kurt's father and stepmother have both received theirs, and Kurt was so looking forward to taking a trip to Ohio for a first hug in over a year. He's going to be damned if a four-foot-tall Petri dish ruins that for him!
But because of his paranoia, Kurt and Sebastian haven't touched, haven't kissed in two weeks. They tried the whole Skype sex thing from different rooms of the penthouse, aiming to recapture old college day thrills to boot, but it didn't work out the way they'd hoped. And even though they see each other every day, talk to one another, aggravate each other, throw popcorn and other food items at each other, Kurt misses Sebastian like the dickens. He misses his hugs, his warmth, his smell.
And yes, he misses the sex.
"Since I've been back to work, you've had the peace and privacy to watch those wacky pornos that your brother sends you."
"Yup," Sebastian says, typing something into his search bar that Kurt can't quite make out. "The wackiest."
"Didn't he say something about them being illegal in the contiguous 49 states?"
"Forty-eight. Tennessee turned itself around."
"It would be Tennessee."
"Always is."
"You probably haven't given your fleshjack a rest in two weeks," Kurt prods, worried over these short responses.
"Mmph... mmm-hmm... "
Kurt starts circling the sofa when all he gets is a chuckle in response, curious if Sebastian is even listening to him. He comes up behind him, standing on a piece of painter's tape they'd put down to mark six feet so Kurt can peek over his shoulder.
And what he sees on Sebastian's screen makes absolutely no sense.
"What are you watching?"
"Drain clearing videos."
Kurt's eyes go wide. "Drain clearing? Wh-what does that mean?"
"This guy drives all over, and when he finds a street that's flooded, he takes out a rake, drags it through the water, and tries to find the blocked drain."
"Does he work for the city?"
"Nah. He's just some guy."
"And he's made a whole channel about... clearing drains."
"Yes, sir."
"And you're watching it?"
"It came up in my recommendations so I clicked one." Sebastian shakes his head, chuckling when stagnant grey water, punctuated by speckles of rain, turns into a whirlpool, rushing through thick iron bars embedded in the concrete and disappearing from view. "It's so satisfying."
"What on Earth were you watching before this that YouTube recommended it?"
"Car cleaning videos."
Kurt's left eyebrow slowly climbs up his forehead. "A-ha."
"Yup. I never realized how relaxing it is to watch a handsome guy Bissell Kool-Aid stains out of carpet. But now... it's my jam."
Kurt huffs, offended on behalf of himself and his own vigorous cleaning regimen. "It wasn't your jam when I was steam cleaning our throw rugs! And the curtains!"
"Yeah, well, things hit different when you're forced into isolation."
Kurt storms forward a step. But then he remembers. And he stops, foot hovering an inch past the sacred boundary that keeps him from venturing too close to infection. He teeters, determination creasing his brow while anxiety wrestles his shoulders back. All the while, a war wages inside his tired brain:
"Get him! You've been vaccinated!"
"It's only one dose!"
"He's not even sick!"
"You don't know that!"
"Yes, I do!"
"It's not worth the risk!"
"Yes... it... IS!"
"Come on!" Kurt demands, throwing himself bodily at the sofa. He grabs Sebastian's hand, a small voice screaming inside his head as if his tiny naysayer is being burned at the stake. "Come with me... NOW!"
"Where are we going?" Sebastian asks, rushing to move his computer to the side before he gets dragged off the sofa by his surprisingly strong boyfriend.
"This is an intervention."
"But you shouldn't be touching me! Or breathing my air! I have one day left!"
"You're fine! If you haven't gotten sick by now, you probably aren't going to! This is an emergency!"
"What emergency?"
"Quarantine has turned you into someone I don't recognize! Car cleaning videos? Who are you right now?"
"They're educational. It's good to learn a new skill."
Kurt barks a laugh that could shatter crystal. "Right. Like you'd ever. You'd pay highway robbery to have your ten-speed detailed!"
"Nope, because you'd do it for free."
Kurt rolls his eyes, unwilling to entertain his boyfriend's mocking of him to ask whether or not that's code. "If you're going to ogle a man wielding a Bissell, Goddammit, it's going to be me!"
"So... are we going to clean some carpets?"
"We're going to take a shower and then have sex. A lot of sex. You're getting fucked and sucked until you're back to normal."
Sebastian snorts, delighted by his incredibly good fortune. "If you insist. But are you absolutely sure about this?"
Kurt stops short and faces Sebastian. He looks him over, making certain he doesn't seem particularly sick, and shrugs.
"We'll wear masks. Or three. I don't need to kiss you to make you cum." Kurt continues to drag Sebastian towards the bathroom as his grin grows to epic proportions.
"Kinky."
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Time to show you all how we do it in the pinta cuh.
Gwess x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Uh, I guess just Gwess being Gwess. I don’t expect everyone to assume she’s not going to be abusive.
Also if I catch anyone complaining about the Spanglish it’s going down and I know for sure you’ve never kicked it with the 90’s cholas in your entire sheltered life.
...
“Oye, listen bollera.”
“Told you not to fuckin’ call me bollera cabrona.”
“Cállate tu boca. Escucha bollera. Esa machorras, they do shit differently in the pinta. I worry about your ass because you don’t got one mean bone in your body. Shit, you couldn’t even stand up to the guera who bullied you in eighth grade. But I’ll tell you how it is in there esa. Maybe you’ll have the advantage since you’re going in a bollera, not coming out one…”
“What’s bollera?”
She butchers the Spanish, and all you can do is fucking laugh at her poor attempts. Your girlfriend frowns from between your legs, but you tug at her hair to get her to shut up her whining.
Saturdays, she always bugs you in your free time from writing to spend time with her. What the hell is there for two girls to do in prison on a date anyways? You can play cards with her in the yard, have her spot you lifting weights, all that shit gets old. Instead the two of you stay in, she begs you to baby her and brush her hair, and you oblige. Treating it like your grandma did and telling her stories while she made sweet eyes at you.
“How come you always talk in Spanish whenever you tell me stories about us meeting and falling in love?” She asks, pouting her lips up at you.
“Because that’s how it happened esa.” You laugh, tugging on her hair again and making her squeal, “It’s rare that I even get to act like this, not easy being trapped in the middle of two cultures and not getting accepted by either or. But with my babe, I can do whatever the fuck I want.”
She pulls on your jailbird blues, wanting a kiss but you make her wait. It’s just how that shit goes. You still hold grudges from the time she made your first stint into prison some bullshit.
“As I was saying mensa, as every corresponding event would prove in the future, it seemed Little Mosca was, for lack of a better term, entirely full of shit.”
To a point though, as you would later find out. But when it came to it, she didn’t know you or your life.
Never the less you’d have never thought your time in the “pinta” was going to be as smooth sailing as it was. You expected to get into fights, possibly be violated, become “somebody’s bitch” as they so eloquently put it in every fucking prison movie you could get your little pizza hands on. That’s what they told you in your friend groups too. Stop doing loca shit with the girls and go back to school, school girl. You should be at home studying fool. You like to talk about stupid shit like rocks and fucking video games all fucking day. You’re still a kid.
It pisses you off and only serves to give you a Napoleon complex.
Maybe if you had listened, it wouldn’t have gotten you into a case of wrongful arrest that not even the best pro bono lawyer could get you out of. You expected to have no one to turn to in El Acuario. Especially when you didn’t seem to fit in any of the stereotypical niches that came from being an outsider in some bad ass peckerwood lands.
Last name is impossibly hard for the white kids to say? Three strikes you’re out and a beaner. Try to bond with the other people of color? Let’s face it, even if you’re on the same short end of the stick there’s no spot in that long history of oppression for you homes. Speak Spanglish even though you don’t know all that much Spanish because your parents took “English Only” as law? Now every homegirl at El Super is taking the piss out of you.
But say you get grudgingly accepted by the locas, but they’re the kind of girls that sport hoop earrings, lipliner no lipstick, and a neck covered in hickeys? Well, you had the last part, but when the hickeys were from another girl it tends to cause a ruckus in the barrio.
You didn’t expect to be led to your cell and recognize nearly every girl already locked up in there.
“A la verga! Es La Bollera guey!”
“Sad Girl?!” you exclaimed at the voice, only to be jostled into silence.
“Shut the fuck up!” Screams the guard who is leading you.
“Orale bollera! The fuck are you doing in here homegirl?!”
“Let her go homes, she ain’t do shit!”
“Ay loca! The fuck did you do to get in here foo? Get caught eating panocha again?!”
“She ain’t do shit pinche culero! Let her go!”
But somehow against every barrier, life worked in its own way. You went to school, tried to keep it straight to fit in, let your energy help you to fit in seamlessly no matter where you went. But the homegirls always warned you to stay out of shit. Even though they all loved you anyway, bollera y todo, they always claimed you barely survived outside when it came to your sweet nature, how the hell were you going to last a day in the pinta?
The way they seem to want your freedom, it seems like you’re going to incite a riot among the chicanas.
You’re almost embarrassed. Every mom friend on the block seems to be doing time the same way as you, but the camaraderie doesn’t last too long.
So far the worst part of Green Dolphin was being arrested. Slammed on the hot hood of a police cruiser and cuffed, thrown around like you were a rag doll. Granted it wasn’t any fun having la juda sticking their fingers into where you didn’t want anyone except your future partner to, but that and the mugshot, it came with the territory. Eventually your homegirls do have to quiet down, not before reassuring you that they got your “esquina”. Well, now that you’re trapped in a six by eight cell with some goo goo eyed chick that acts like she’s la reina of the whole fucking place, it doesn’t seem like that’s going to be an option anymore.
Even better… she’s not even Hispanic or Latina. Her skin is pasty white and clashes with her blue koolaid dyed lips.
No matter. You know how to deal with the white girls too. That’s the beauty of being able to chameleon your way into any situation.
“Uh… hey.” You say awkwardly. “Nice to meet you.”
She doesn’t say a word. Weird. You have to scoot by her to take your place on the bottom bunk, about four seconds from opening your mouth to ask the dreaded ice breaker “what are you in for”, when she suddenly yanks you by the coveralls.
Oh… Oh hell no.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! Thats my bunk-…”
Earrings off. Let’s go fool. It goes down like Diddy Kong, or more like Donkey when that’s just the type of punch she gets seemingly out of nowhere. You don’t have to turn around to know. She was fucked the minute she tried to get you.
It’s a matter of seconds, after you’ve floored her to the enamel first and pretty much sat on her chest, your hands and an unseen force have her pinned below you with your hands around her skinny guerra neck. The homegirls must have thought the screams were coming from you, because immediately you hear the banging of iron bars as your homegirls are coming to back you up.
“Oh shit! Bollera! Que esta pasando guey?!”
“Get the fuck off her white bitch!”
Their spring into action is stopped dead in its tracks when they see you’re strangling the girl on the floor. It takes them a minute to really comprehend the predicament you’ve got the girl in. When they only knew you from hang outs at Burger King or some dude’s house, they don’t truly know the reason that you waltzed in among them. Unafraid. Unyielding. They only know you that you’re a real loca to be walking around with girls who claim to be so.
They’re dead silent. Don’t even say shit when the girl’s turning blue. Not a word of encouragement or a “ja guey” to keep you going. But it’s fine.
You knock her back and forth into the enamel. She keeps trying to kick you off but her arms are pinned. You’re too far up on her chest, almost sitting on her breasts, smothering her down and punctuating every sentence with a jolt of her head against the flooring as you press down on her windpipe.
“Andale puta, you wanna play that way, I’ll play too.”
She’s blue. Turning the same shade as her lipstick. But you let her stay conscious enough to squeak out an answer.
“Here’s a few rules home girl, keep your fucking hands off me and leave me the fuck alone. I don’t give a shit about you, I didn’t get thrown in the pinta to get fucked up by some gabacha. But you wanna play that shit with me? Al rato bitch!”
“Sueltalo Bollera!”
“You feel me bitch?” You growl.
“Sueltalo homegirl! She ain’t worth it!”
“Let her go!”
“You feel me?!” You insist.
A squeak. That’s all you get from her. A small squeak of affirmation and you let her neck go, continuing to to make your bed as she flounders on the floor, totally ignorant of your homegirl’s gawking but feeling proud of yourself none the less.
It’s no fanfare when you meet up with everyone else later on. They tell you to watch your shit and to leave your cellmate at that. If word gets out, you might have a couple more fights at this rate.
But it doesn’t matter. Smooth sailing from now on since you stood up to her before she could get a hit in.
“You hit me though!”
“Technically that was my Stand that hit you.”
Those same blue koolaid lips pout at you again, and this time you lean down to give her a kiss right on her mouth. She squeals, its that same familiar sound she made when you had her pinned to the floor all those months ago.
“Yeah and you tried to knock my ass out too, but the thing I wasn’t prepared for was to meet someone who liked it like that.” You laugh.
Gwess just huffs, making grabby hands at your coveralls and begging you for more affection.
That’s how it goes in the pinta though. At least Little Mosca was right about that part.
#jojo’s bizzare adventure#jojo’s bizarre adventure stone ocean#DO YOU ALL EVEN FUCKING KNOW ABOUT THE SHIT I WENT THRU TO FIND THIS DOCUMENT#TWO FUCKING HOURS#FUCK#gwess x reader#guess x reader#jjba stone ocean#wlw#implied abuse#abuse#tw violence#hispanic!reader
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ahh i just saw you responded to my spanish ask i didnt see it 😩
but yo también hablo francés por q i live in canada and they teach you francés in el colegio :)
sorry my spanglish was coming thru lmao
omg yo quiero irme a vivir a canadá! it’s so pretty and same en mi escuela nos enseñan inglés y francés ahorita en la prepa ósea en high school
pls same don’t even worry babe
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