#Getting Married in Colombia | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

undercoverpena · 6 months

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anytime

javier peña x f!reader

summary: “Thank you for coming with me,” you whisper. Nodding, he feels you follow his path—dropping, scorching his face, tracing the place where the hair sits atop his lip. “Anytime, cariño.” “Anytime, really?”

wordcount: 3.1k. warnings: fluff. bestfriends to lovers. banter. reader wears a dress and has a gloss on lips. no physical description. javi calls reader solecito as a nickname only. likely warnings for spelling as i wrote this on my phone. an: huge thanks to @wildemaven for creating this moodboard (pls go show it some love), letting me make a banner from it, and then letting me write this for Javi instead of Frankie. bby, i hope you like this.

Javi had never been good at avoiding challenging situations.

For the longest time, he’s been finding himself in the centre of a whirlwind—whether in Bogotá, Cali or apparently even back home.

You, his friend, best friend—a well-kept secret, tucked away in his chest, not shared with a soul when he was away. You were a thing that he’d clutched close to his chest from the moment the two of you had first gotten close, through his failed engagement and even more so when he left for Colombia. You, in all your understanding, hugging him, telling him he’d be great, amazing, the very best.

Both of you were younger then, less worn down by life, its many obstacles and all the other things.

You best not become best friends with anyone over there, Peña. As if anyone could annoy me as much as you, solecito.

In the brief interim of his return, you hadn’t appeared all that different. You may have had a job, a house—drove a slightly better car than when the two of you were staying out at all hours—but you, at your core remained very much the fucking same.

Still just as understanding, as kind. A person who got him, without really needing to try.

For Javi, the best thing—outside of you being you and the monthly calls you made him promise to keep when he was drowning in murder, drugs and Escobar—is that you never ask him about it. Any of it.

You had always let him pretend, escape, listen to you fill him in on gossip—things such as disagreements over the size of rhubarb and whether someone was having an affair. A thing you did even when he came back. Even more grateful for it then, when he grew tired of the questions, the compliments, the everything.

Its why he didn’t tell you when he would land back in Laredo for good. Just waiting, standing outside your place, leaning against your car as you walk down the street—eyes brushing over him, pausing, before he gets to see that smile. That signature fucking smile.

When he’d left the first time, he remembers how you’d lingered near your car, unwilling to climb into your bright yellow death trap—the entire reason he called you solecito to begin with—wearing the beginnings of that smile even then.

The difference is now he knows that there was something under it. Hidden, held back, kept from him.

It’s why it meant so much to him when he saw it in all its glory, all alight, blooming and somehow healing.

He can’t explain it, but it repairs strands inside of him. Your presence alone continuing to do so when he meets you for lunches, coffees, and late-night drinks. In exchange, he makes you laugh, your head thrown back as he tells you about whatever he did on the ranch—all of it comical, apparently. Because the idea of him, Javier Peña doing ranch work brought tears to your eyes.

“You’re just jealous.”

“Jealous?” you splutter, taking a mouthful of your beer as you narrow your eyes.

Nodding, he leans back into the booth, arm stretched out, picking and picking—the label crumbling from the sweating bottle. “Yeah. Bet you’re upset you don’t get to see me herd cattle and mend fences.”

“Oh, yeah. One-hundred-percent.”

Shrugging, he grins—an easy task with you. A thing that has always been that way, even when he turned up at your door when he couldn’t get married; even when the two of you sat under the stars when he told you about possibly going to Colombia. You still made him grin—even when things weren’t fucking easy at all.

“I’ll add it to my to-do list—visit Peña on the ranch—it’s currently sat under finding a dress, a boyfriend and the will to fucking live.”

Snorting, he traces his bottom lip with his thumb.

Your face scrutinises him, before rolling your eyes. And he just waits—because you always spill eventually.

One. Two. Th—

Fine, you huff, before it unravels from you. How the wedding of your work colleague is close, closer than I thought and you’re tired of attending these things alone, circled like a fucking fish by single sharks.

And he’s listening, taking it in. Trying to not wince at how high-pitched you’ve got as you’ve ranted.

Mainly, Javi finds there’s more questions rising than answers provided.

One singular one rising to the top. A thing he’s wanted to ask for the last few weeks. Not in a rude way, or in the way it burns inside his chest when he talks to you on the phone and he has to bury it. But, it’s there, bubbling, wishing to escape and know. It's even louder when the two of you are like this, crammed in a space, laughing, smiling, sharing, wondering—

Why are you even single? How are you?

You’ve mentioned people—names, here and there when the two of you had been on the phone. Them fluttering out before you can pull them back, but then they’re forgotten. Javi, I get one call a month—let me tell you about the cattle war going off. And, in a way, he didn’t want to hear, didn’t want to know, so he never asked.

Now, it’s all he wants to ask.

Because you’re… you. You’re brilliant, beautiful—funny, clever, witty. And yet—

“—so, now it’s a week out, and I need to find a dress, a date and drive there to watch another person I know get married.”

He knows he should busy his mouth with the bottle—wrap his odd idea in beer. But, that part of him—the one which wants to help, solve issues, and be useful—rises up in him like a phoenix left from the ashes of Colombia.

“I’ll go with you.”

He expects the pause, even braces for the look of shock.

He doesn’t expect the smirk. Doesn’t expect the way it spreads out, to hit your eyes. How under the low-bar light over the table, it makes your eyes glimmer and fucking shimmer.

“You want to go to a wedding with me?”

Shrugging, he picks off the last part of the label—the mess of it all circling around where the glass meets the wood.

Mirroring him, you shrug. “Alright.”

“Alright.”

He should take his eyes off you, but he finds he can’t.

Javi hasn’t been able to since you stepped out of your place, a handful of your dress as you locked up—stepping down your steps to his car, letting it flutter down to your ankles.

You look like a fucking dream.

A thought he knows he shouldn’t have—but has all the same. His heart staggered, half-halting in its hammering as his hands paused in their drumming on the steering wheel; his glasses slid down his nose, his skin suddenly warm all over, even if his jacket was already splayed out across the backseat.

Close your mouth, Peña.

I’m chewing gum, solecito.

Yeah, that’s why your mouth is open.

It hadn’t passed his notice that you were good-looking before today. He’s known you were, had always known it—he had eyes, after all. But, he’d always felt there was a line. A line the two of you never delved too close to step over. The sign above both of your heads already illuminated in bright bulbs and flashing lights:

JUST FRIENDS.

Until this, anyway. This thing that can only be described as the longest one-hour drive he’s ever been on. And he used to do recon with Murphy.

Because you’re teasing, taunting him. All in that usual way that you do. And it’s so easy to flirt back, to let line after line roll, but he has begun to spot you squirming.

Doing so while matching his suit in a deep brown shade—chosen by him, ‘pick a colour suit, Javi’. Adding a tinge to some of your comments—things that if said by someone that wasn’t you, he’d ask them (flirtingly) if they were coming on to him.

But with you, it’s something he can never be sure. Never something that can be completely understood, known, cracked or figured out. In the same way, he can’t understand how your perfume keeps following him. How it embeds itself into the cabin of his truck when he picks you up, sews itself into his clothing when the two of you meet—and right now, is attempting to bury itself in his skin, muscles, and bones.

“You’ve been abnormally quiet.”

Smirking, he snorts. Fingers smoothing out his hair as he swings into a spot—the tyres crunching over the gravel. “Have I? Or have you just not shut up.”

“Rude.”

Laughing, he cuts the engine—hands resting on the top of his thighs, not missing the way your eyes follow his movements before clearing your throat. It shifts something in him, makes a little part of him surge, like the smallest of fireworks suddenly erupting in his chest.

Something he forces himself to shut down the moment you shove open your door, slipping out, as he grabs his jacket.

“Do I need to be worried about you crying today, solecito?”

Rearranging your dress, and slipping the strap of your bag over your shoulder, you squint as you stand tall, hand covering your brow as you meet his gaze.

And fuck, with this backdrop, even squinting, you look beautiful, radiant, stunning all over again. Somehow his brain having forgotten when you were next to him, when you were acting as if this was the most normal fucking thing they’ve ever done.

It isn’t.

Something he’s becoming more aware of as his throat goes dry, and his thoughts slow to nothing—

“No, you’re good. Your mouth is open again.”

You say it with a smirk, all teasing—making heat lick up his spine all over again. And, if you were anyone else, he’d have already pulled you close, tilted your chin up, and likely smothered your mouth with his.

But, you’re his friend—his best friend. The one solid thing he’s had in his life since he became a name, a poster, a hero.

“C’mon,” you say, turning on your heel as you head in the direction of the entrance, him following, jacket slipping on as he mutters mouth isn’t fucking open under his breath.

Even if he knows it was. Even if he’s desperately trying to stop his eyes from descending down to your hips, eyes fixated on the way you walk with ease to the wooden sign which greets all the guests.

He knows, due to his absence from home, there haven’t been many weddings he’s attended. Least of all like this. But even he thinks this is over the top, suddenly understanding why you hadn’t wanted to come alone. Because grand doesn’t quite cover it—not after the last one he’d attended.

This one has flickering candles lit in the day, waiters all set to hand glasses of bubbles and offer little mouthfuls of flavour on silver trays. Then, there’s the backdrop—the enormity of the building, only for you to tell him that it’s an outside wedding.

It’s more of a comfort as to why his hand drops to the small of your back than anything else. A need to be rooted, to feel calmer as he nods at passing people he doesn’t know (and hopes don’t know him), feeling you curl into him subconsciously, your bag swinging between the two of you both—affording a gap, forcing it, in fact.

The ceremony will start soon.

He overhears it, as he assumes you do, because your fingers wrap around his wrist—taking it from your back, before your palm meets his, and then you’re guiding, leading. Dragging him. All willingly to the back of the building where he sees it—the makeshift aisle. A wooden arch, and lots of deep orange-brown chairs all line up on either side of an orange aisle.

“Glad we chose brown now,” he murmurs.

“Does it make you think, y’know—being at a wedding?”

He swallows. Because it’s a loaded question.

One he assumes has been sitting all politely on the tip of your tongue since you sat beside him in his vehicle. It’s why his eyes watch you carefully as you grab the two of them a flute each from a passing waiter. Handing it to him, adding nothing—not rescuing him. Just waiting instead, doing that thing you do, where your eyes widen as you wait, trying to look all innocent even though it’s you who has just dropped a live grenade into the centre of the conversation.

Shaking his head, he snorts. “No. Not really. Knew… I knew deep down it wasn’t right. Her… and me.”

“You got any idea what’s right?”

You take a sip this time when the question lands, it again sparkling in glittered innocence, the softest of smiles pressed against the glass.

You he thinks. But he swallows that away and says ‘Not a fucking clue’ instead.

Throughout the day, he’s been desperate for a reason to stop looking at you.

So far, he’s found none.

Bits and pieces of things Murphy used to say, the words he’d drop into conversation when talking about his wife: how he knew, why she was the one, all coming back to him in drips and drops.

It dawns on him, the same as it had done since before he went to Cali, that you might mean a little more than a friend. A lot of what Murphy used to say, so easily applied to how Javi felt about you.

You make him feel calmer, create a space where he can relax, really unwind. It’s easy, uncomplicated, when he’s with you—from the conversation to the things he thinks. Complex balled thoughts stretch out until they’re in easy-to-decipher lines, able to process, able to understand.

He even told you about the boats.

A secret he’d have been prepared to take to the grave, if not for the fact you pointed out he wasn’t sleeping. Your eyes watching, pleading, don’t lie to me. And fuck, he couldn’t—not even if he wanted to.

That should have been the first sign.

He guesses he should be thankful today has been stuffed with more of them. One after the other. From the way you made sure to make him a plate of only his favourite things, to the way you knew when he needed a bit of space from the thousand questions as to how you both knew one another, and what he does.

Now, Javi is on the sidelines, admiring you in a way that makes his heart double in size.

Your dress skims around your calves as you dance—your arms rising above your head, glee stitched itself from cheek to cheek. On occasion, time halts when your eyes land on his—stealing whatever thought he had, only resuming normality when you close your eyes, belting out the lyrics to the song.

Mainly, the thought he finds which keeps returning is: I wanna do this with you again. any place. any time.

A hollowness scratches out in his chest as he lets himself acknowledge it. A thickness growing in his throat, a sorrowness weighs down on his shoulders as he nurses his glass—hand in his trouser pocket, telling himself he should be content he got to be on your arm, got to have you against him during a slow dance over an hour ago. That he gets to see you smile, hear your laugh—even know you.

“Hey, Peña.”

“Hey solecito.”

You grin—a little breathless, the music having changed, becoming slower, softer—wrenching the glass from his hand as you drain it.

“Fuck me. Y’thirsty?”

“Very. You’d know if you had any rhythm.”

He pinches you, lightly—teasingly. Your grin shifts into a laugh, tucking yourself in against him, arm around his back. And fuck, the way you’re looking up at him, he wants to warn you.

If you look at me like that, I’m going to kiss you.

Javi wonders what you’d do if you did. Whether you’d pull away, hissing the two of you are friends. Or whether you’d kiss him back.

“Want to get some fresh air?” you ask, your words against his ear—lips so close to ghosting his skin.

“Sure.”

It’s cooler when the two of you step out from under the marquee, the music getting quieter when your fingers loop in his, guiding, easing him around plant pots and tall trees, until the two of you are descending marble stairs and past iron fencing, to take him to the perimeter, to the view looking out over the city.

He watches as you step forward, fingers around the iron fencing, leaning, staring out as you let out a heavy sigh. One laced with things he wants to ask for, tug it from you, let you unload whatever is weighing on you—because that’s what you both do for one another.

You make it easy.

Make it all bearable.

But, whether you mean to, or not, you shiver. A light one, barely noticeable by most—but he isn’t most. His fingers are already at the button, undoing it, sliding his jacket down his arms before he places it over your shoulders, watching your head turn, meeting his gaze.

“You look really pretty.”

Flicking your eyes down, you smile. Sweetly. Unreadably. “Well, you’ve always been pretty.”

“Pretty?”

Laughing, your fingers tug his jacket closer, burying yourself in it. “The prettiest, Javier.”

Leaning beside you, he feels the metal from the railings, you’re both resting on, cut into his palms. He wonders if you feel the same, your dress billowing in the gentle breeze as the two of you stare off into the distance, spotting the flickering lights of a city, of homes tucking in for the night.

Then he turns his head, finding you already watching him, studying him in a similar way as you were before.

And, he lets his eyes drop to your mouth. A sign. A signal. It’s not the first time, usually, he does so when you’re not looking, letting himself trace the curve of your lips. Now, he stares at the way your gloss has long since gone, left behind on glasses and straws.

“Thank you for coming with me,” you whisper.

Nodding, he feels you follow his path—dropping, scorching his face, tracing where the hair sits atop his lip.

“Anytime, cariño.”

“Anytime, really?”

Nodding, he swallows. A thousand things he’s thought, and felt, all rushing to the surface—unwilling to bury itself, to descend under the usual guilt and feelings of inadequacies when it comes to you.

“I’d do anything for you.”

Smirking, you tilt your head. “Anything?”

Biting your lip, he feels it—something thrumming in him, being plucked.

“Will you kiss me?”

“I could…”

Your brows rise, a louder cheer coming from inside, but it doesn’t do anything to tear your eyes away from the other.

The whole world could slowly vanish from around the two of you, and all he’d want is just to stare at you.

“But?” you ask, delicately.

Almost so softly, it makes his chest ache.

Dipping his head, he lets his gaze wash over the place again—the rolling land, the trees, the houses in the distance.

“If I kiss you, I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

You slide closer, shoulder to shoulder, eyes scorching his jaw, his neck, the side profile he can feel you tracing with your gaze.

“Then don’t,” you say.

His neck almost cracks with the quickness of his movement, his eyes scanning, reading, a part of him wanting to step back, and protect you. Because he’s not sure about the parts of him you’d find easy to love—

“You don’t know what you’re—“

“Don’t care,” you interrupt, fingers twitching on the lapel of his jacket. “I know you—Javi, not Agent Peña. I know the boy who cloud-watched with me when my parents wouldn’t stop fighting; I know the man who told me to stop sending him postcards from the town shop—but also whispered that he liked them.”

Snorting, he smiles.

“So, if you want to, no pressure—but, I think you should kiss me.”

“Yeah?”

Nodding, you bite your cheek. “Think you’ve wasted a lot of time not kissing me already, honestly.”

Of course you do, he thinks. And then he kisses you, palms on your cheeks, slanting his mouth over yours.

And fuck, it’s the best fucking thing he’s ever done.

an: honestly, this made me so fucking happy to write.

#javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javier peña x you #narcos x reader #javier pena x you #javi pena x reader #narcos javier x reader #narcos javier #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfiction #pedrostories #mm: late night texts #javier peña fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic

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javierpena-inatacvest · 2 months

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Chapter 20 pt. 1- I Do

Summary: It's finally here, the day you've been waiting for since the day Javi came into your life and changed it for the better- It's your wedding day, and things couldn't be more perfect. Except for the fact that you and Javi can barley contain your excitement as you wait to see each other.

Word Count: 11.4K (If this wasn't 2 parts, this would be 30k long and wouldn't be finished until May)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, praise kink, marriage kink (?), kind of semi-public sex (they're gettin' busy in the bathroom), Kind of getting caught (Steve needs to mind his own business), wedding things!!, family dynamics, mentions of death/grief, lots of emotions, Javi being an anxious, blubbering, hot mess, Javi being so in love and is so excited to spend the rest of his life with you that it physically hurts me (this chapter is lots of fluff and feelings and not as much smut, sorry!! Don't worry, there's PLENTY more to come next chapter 🤪)

A/N: Hi friends!!! Well, she's finally here, the moment we've all been waiting for- our two favorite idiots are finally getting married 😭💕 While I would have loved to make this one chapter, it literally would have been SO long, and Lord knows when I actually would have finished with it. So this chapter is the morning leading up to the ceremony, and part 2 will be the ceremony and reception!! I'm not even gonna lie, I bawled several times writing this chapter. These two mean so much to me, and I'm so honored that you care enough about them to be invested in my silly little story, too 🥺 HAPPY WEDDING DAY!!!

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For the better part of his life, Javier Peña was convinced there was nothing more soul-crushingly painful and miserable than a wedding. On a day that was supposed to be filled with happiness and joy, Javi had spent more years than he’d like to admit doing anything to avoid the occasion all together. Because for him, weddings had meant none of those things. Weddings had only served as yet another reminder of the failure he had chalked himself up to be.

Leaving Lorraine at the altar and running away to Colombia.

Watching the successes of everyone else’s blissful domestic lives play out in front of him, while he’d never felt so alone.

Convincing himself that he would never be worthy of love because of the terrible person that he’d become.

Weddings had been something that Javier Peña hated more than most things in life.

But that was until he met you.

Because today, on the morning of his own wedding, Javi was quite literally bursting at the seams with excitement, goofy grin stretched from ear to ear knowing that in a few short hours, he got to marry the most amazing, beautiful, perfect woman he had ever met. And even though the reality had set in that today was finally the day the two of you started your forever together, he was positive that he’d never get over the reality that you would always be his.

As he pulled his truck up the driveway to your new home where he should have been sleeping for the better half of last night, there was a part of him that couldn’t have been more thankful he had been able to sneak in just a few more hours with you before sunrise, knowing the anxious anticipation of waiting to see you all day, let alone see you in your wedding dress at the other end of the aisle, was enough to already have his heart beating a million miles a minute at the ripe hours of the morning.

While he should have known better his Dad would already be well awake by the time he snuck back home, Chucho’s welcoming grin from the front porch was already laced with enough forgiveness for Javi to hope he’d be spared at least some shit from his father.

“”Morning, mijo.” Chucho chuckled, watching Javi’s sheepish stride up the driveway towards the house, slowly sipping on his cup of coffee with a boyish grin on his face, knowing damn well where his son had been without having to say a word.

“I already know what you’re gonna say, Pops.” Javi sighed, shaking his head in embarrassment as he approached his dad, letting out a soft grunt as he took a seat next to his father on the top step of the front porch.

“I haven’t said anything, Javier. Do you have something you want to say?” Chucho couldn’t help but snicker, raising his eyebrows at his son, as he watched his cheeks turn a petrified pink.

“Nope, I am- oh, fuck me- nope I am, uh, all good.” Javi stammered, burying his hands in his face before running them through the sleepy curls of his hair and over the nape of his neck, his eyes still peeled to the ground, avoiding Chucho’s smug grin.

“Then all I have to say is,” Cucho paused, taking another swig of coffee, “I hope you never stop loving her the way that you do now.” Javi looked up at his dad in confusion, wondering how his sneaking out wasn’t shaping up to be some sort of teenage scolding from his father. “I already know that you know you are a very, very lucky man Javier, but I also hope that you know you are going to make a wonderful husband. Eres un buen hombre. Estoy muy feliz por ti, mijo. Tu madre también lo estaría. Muy feliz.” (You are a good man. I am so happy for you, son. Your mom would be, too. So happy.)

Letting his eyes shift off his feet where they had been stuck, Javi looked back up at his father, tears welling in his eyes at Chucho’s reassuring smile, reaching out to wrap his arm around his son, pulling him close enough to let Javi’s head fall on his shoulder, the two sitting for a quiet moment in silence.

Javi couldn’t help but feel a twinge in his heart, thinking about the fact his mom wouldn’t be with him for the biggest day of his life. His mother had left this world when Javi was at his lowest- alone and halfway across the globe, fighting for a cause he wasn’t even sure he believed in. It had always haunted him that his mom had died worried that her son had become a broken man, and would never be proud of the person he’d turned out to be. When he returned home, he felt even worse thinking that his one living parent probably felt that way, too.

But what brought him solace in a time that he needed it most, was you. You had given him a reason to make his parents proud, to make himself proud. While his mom would never be able to tell him the words he so desperately longed to hear, he knew in his heart that the life he’d built because of you was all the comfort he needed to prove to himself Lucia was smiling down on him when he needed it most. And as he looked up at the sky, the pink and orange rays of the beautiful sunrise beginning to spill over the horizon, he had never been more sure that even though his mom couldn’t physically be by his side, that Lucia Peña would still be with him every step of the way.

“Fuck, I miss her, Pops. I wish she was here.”

“She is, Javier. She always will be.”

After soaking in a few more quiet moments together staring out into the shimmering sunrise, Chucho let out a content sigh, giving Javi a gentle pat on the back and rustling the dark curls of his son’s thick hair.

“But, if there is one thing I know about your Mother, it’s that I can practically hear her screeching at us wasting our time being sad about her on the happiest day of your life. Chucho, por qué piedres el tiempo estar triste? Basta de quejarte! Nuestro hijo se está casando, pendejo!” (Why are you wasting your time being sad! Stop moping! Our son is getting married, stupid.) Chucho mocked, shaking his head at the sky at the scolding he knew he’d be getting from his wife, making him and Javi burst into laughter. “And, if there’s another thing I know about your mother,” Chucho paused again, letting out a loud grunt as he pushed himself up to stand, resting his arm on Javi’s shoulder, “it’s that her and I would both agree there better be a nieto (grandchild) in our lives 9 months from now. Dios mío (oh my God), Javier, even on the night before your wedding you two can’t keep your hands to yourselves! I am truly surprised I don’t have 14 grandchildren already.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Pops….” Javi whispered to himself over his dad’s schoolgirl snickers, watching his son’s face fall flush once again, standing up to follow behind his dad back inside as Chuhco began to waddle his way across the porch.

Although Javi could have tried to plead his case to his dad to prove his innocence, truth be told, today, he really didn’t care. Today, the only thing he cared about was that in just a few short hours, he got to meet you, his wife, at the end of the aisle and spend his forever with the woman he loved more than life itself. For the first time in his life, Javier Peña couldn’t have been more excited for a wedding.

You weren’t sure how many more times you had read the scratchy print scribbled across the bright yellow post-it Javi had left behind on his pillow before he had snuck out for the morning, but you did know that your heart beat faster and faster in anxious anticipation with every glance over his words, counting down the second until you got to see him again.

You had kept yourself in your room, convinced that your excited impatience would have you awake well before everyone else still sleeping at the ranch, but as you heard clanging and bickering starting to echo from the kitchen, you should have known better that your mom and Connie would be up to something to kick start your wedding day.

With a yawn and stretch of your arms above your head, you flopped yourself out of bed, exchanging Javi’s worn t-shirt and sleep shorts for the white pajama set your mom had insisted she buy for you to get ready in as a compromise for your adamant despise at the white silky robe that had “bride” stitched across it in big pink letters that she had begged to buy you.

Shuffling down the hallway, the commotion in the kitchen only became increasingly louder, now realizing almost everyone must be awake for whatever antics were taking place for the early hours of the morning. As you turned the corner, you were greeted by an adorable “Happy Wedding Day!” banner that had been made by the girls hanging on the wall, decorated with adorable crayon drawings of flowers, you and Javi, and all of the horses of the Peña ranch dressed in wedding apparel. As your eyes scanned across the rest of the room, the kitchen table was already full of breakfast, balloons dangled from the ceiling, and your mom and Connie were actively working on filling up what was most likely one too many glasses of mimosas.

“Happy wedding day, Auntie Bear!” A little voice cooed behind you, looking down to see a still very sleepy Olivia, hair still crazed and bed ridden as she wrapped herself around your hip, squeezing you in a tight hug.

“Ahhhhh, there’s the bride!!” Your mom shrieked, her pitch enough to make everyone in the room wince as she barreled towards you, joining Olivia to engulf you in her grasp. After everyone had recovered from your mom’s shrill greeting, everyone else had soon joined in on squeezing you in a giant group hug, the gesture in itself making you smile, but the physical restraint in the middle of a human sandwich being a little too much for you this early in the morning.

“Thanks guys. I uh, I would like to make it out alive for my wedding so maybe if we don’t squish me to death, that would be great.” You grunted, trying to wriggle out of the arms squishing your body, hoping that someone would get the hint.

“Alright, I think she’s probably had enough.” Connie laughed, finally noticing the look on your face, prompting everyone to give you at least a little breathing room.

“I’m just so excited for you! I can’t believe you’re getting married, sweetie!” Your mom, clearly not picking up on the hint, was now back to squeezing you in a bear hug again tight enough to make your eyes pop out of your head. “Okay, sorry, sorry, I’m done now, just had to get one last one out of my system… for now. Here, have a seat, honey,” Your mom gestured towards the kitchen table, pulling out a chair for you to sit in, “we have about an hour before we have to start doing hair and makeup but we have plenty of breakfast for you to choose from before we get the day started. How’d you sleep?”

“Oh, um- fine, I um, I slept fine.” You lied, now sheepishly staring down at the overflowing plate of breakfast food your mom had set in front of you, taking a hefty bite of pancake before looking back up, your eyes meeting Connie’s, a suspicious smirk gleaming on her face as she stared at you, crossing your arms over your chest as you swallowed your food with a more audible than intended gulp.

“Oh good!” Your mom replied, obvious to yours and Connie’s silent interaction as she meandered around the kitchen. “Well, eat up, I’m off to go check on some things outside, but by the time I get back in here, that plate better be cleared! Girls, come help Grandma, let your Aunt finish her breakfast!”

“Okay!” Your nieces giggled, following behind your mom into the backyard, leaving you and Connie alone in the kitchen, hearing her silently laugh to herself as she sat down next to you at the table.

“Good sleep, huh? Good sleep that definitely had nothing to do with Javi’s truck that left here at 6:00 AM this morning?” Connie snickered, giving you a little wink as your cheeks turned pink with embarrassment, letting out a defeated sigh.

“I promise it’s not what you think. I actually couldn’t sleep and I called Javi and he ended up coming over so I wouldn’t be up the whole night. I told him he didn’t have to, but I was up and stressed and having him here was the only thing that was going to help. It was just sleep, I promise.”

“It’s okay, I believe you. I couldn’t sleep the night before my wedding either. I’m pretty sure if I did what you had done, Steve would have slept right through the phone call, or still would have been too drunk to drive over.” The two of you quietly giggled to yourselves as Connie reached out for your hand, holding it in hers, “I hope you know that he loves you so much. It always broke my heart to see Javi go through what he did, and how hard on himself he was because of it. You really are the best thing that could have ever happened to him. I’m so happy for the two of you, I couldn’t be more excited for today, honey.”

Reaching across the table, Connie wrapped her arms around you, squeezing you in another hug, trying to hold back your sniffles as you felt happy tears beginning to well in your eyes.

“Thank you, Connie.”

“Of course. Now, you better pick what you want from that breakfast and throw away the rest before your mom gets back, I don’t think either one of us wants to be responsible for telling her that her food wasn’t sufficient enough for you.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes at the thought of the dismay your mom would be in thinking that you didn’t get enough to eat before your big day as you put a reasonable amount of breakfast on a new plate to eat, discarding the other heaping pile that your mom had left you.

“You are a smart woman, Connie Murphy.”

“So I’ve been told.”

The rest of the morning seemed to move by at an exponential pace- At the Pena ranch, hair and makeup was well underway for everyone, and running on time with incredible efficiency from the detailed schedule that your mom and Connie had put together. Even though your body was riddled with endless amounts of anxious anticipation and excitement as the clock ticked closer and closer to when Javi and the rest of the boys would finally get here, you were pleasantly surprised at how fun the morning had ended up being with all the girls, especially since your nieces and the Murphy girls had insisted on putting on a hilarious sing along spectacular for the majority of the time for entertainment while you got ready.

Over at your new house, however, with the only getting ready that Javi needed to do being taking a shower and putting on his suit, the boys were convinced that he was going to put a hole in the floor from his anxious pacing as he counted down the minutes to leave.

“Jav, have a beer, man, you just put this floor in, I think your wife’s gonna be pissed when she finds out she has to replace it before y’all even move in because you can’t sit still.” Steve chuckled, taking a sip out of his can before nudging your brothers sitting next to him on the couch as they watched their friend and future brother in law tread back and forth across the living room for what felt like the 117th time since they’d sat down.

“I think I have to agree with Steve on this one, Javier, you are making me anxious and I’m not even the one getting married.” Chucho chimed in from the armchair seated next to the couch.

“I’ll second what Steve said, man. Have a beer, Javi. You haven’t shut up all day about how fuckin’ excited you are, so what’s got you so worked up? You’ve seen her in a dress before dude, this one’s just white.” Your brother David snorted, his joke now soliciting some eye rolls from the rest of the boys, considering David was about single as they came, and was the only one of the group who wasn’t even remotely close to being married.

“It’s a fucking wedding dress, you dingus, there’s obviously a difference.” Your dad groaned, walking up to your brother to give him a prompt smack in the back of the head, making your other brother Charlie snicker to himself, until he also decided to greet him with an equally harsh slap for good measure.

“What the fuck was that for? I didn’t say anything!” Charlie winced, holding his hands up in defense.

“Tell your brother to stop being an ass! She’s your sister too, for Christ’s Sake, you’re not gonna stand up for her either?! Jesus you two are the biggest idiots I’ve ever met. Even Patrick would have had enough common sense to keep that one in his head. Well, maybe not, but that’s besides the point.” That one at least cracked a little smile from your brothers, wishing that Patrick would have been here to see their sister’s big day, and to distribute the slapping pain more equally between the pair.

“I just… Fuck, I just wanna see her. I can’t wait to see her. I’ve never wanted anything so bad in my whole life. The suspense is fucking killing me.” Javi signed, resting one hand on his hip before running his hand through his hair, anxiously drumming his fingers on his side, foot tapping on the well worn path he had been treading on the hardwood floor of the living room.

Chucho chuckled, resting his hands on his knees and pushing himself up to stand with a low grunt, making his way over to his son, resting his hand on his shoulder as he looked up at him. “Eres como tu madre.. Impaciente. (You are just like your mother… Impatient). Mijo, I remember when I married your mother, she was so excited that she actually asked if we could start the wedding an hour early, just so we could see each other sooner. I can almost hear her laughing at the fact that her son is no better than her. How I wish she were here to see this. Soon, Javier. I promise.”

“Do you think she’s gonna like the gift? You made sure she has it for today, right? And everything from her brothers too?” Javi asked, nervously biting at the tip of his thumb as he glanced down at his father before looking over at David and Charlie sitting on the couch, smiling back at him.

“Yes, Javier. I triple checked last night. I’m sure that she will love it. I know she will love it. All of it. Now, why don’t you go put on your suit and we can leave a little ahead of schedule, I will just make sure to drive extra slow. Even slower than normal. I think if we wait any longer you may actually combust.” He teased, pulling Javi into a tight hug before releasing him, giving him a gentle pat on the back.

“Alright boys, you heard the man, get your sorry asses moving and let’s get these monkey suits on, it’s time to get this boy married!” David cheered, holding up his beer to toast Javi before promptly chugging the rest of it down his throat and slamming it down on the table, soliciting another round of eye rolls and muffled laughter from the crowd.

Silently nodding and smiling to himself, letting out one last reassuring breath before looking at the boys standing in front of him.

“Fuck. I’m gonna get married.”

Back at the ranch, the last of getting ready was beginning to wrap up, all the girls' hair and makeup finally finished, and the youngest of the crew giddily dancing in their flower girl dresses, twirling and swirling in excitement at their pristine outfits as they gathered around you, patiently awaiting for you to get into your own wedding dress.

For as long as you’d wanted to get married, you’d always known that you wanted your wedding dress to be simple- No excessive frills, poof, glitter, or anything that made you feel like you were playing dress up for the world’s goofiest fashion show, simply because it was your wedding, and your dress needed to reflect the extravagance of the event. Your style choice came as a surprise to no one, given the fact you had practically lived in your brother’s hand-me-down’s until the 8th grade, and even when your mom had flown down a few months ago to go dress shopping with you and Connie, she had even laid down the hammer with one of the wedding dress consultants that you wouldn’t even step anywhere near a dress that was an ounce too over the top.

That’s why you were absolutely shocked that despite your firm parameters around what you wanted to wear for your big day, that you fell in love with the very first dress you tried on, and never looked back.

It was everything you wanted and never you needed in a dress- a simple a-line skirt with thin straps that ran across your shoulders and scooped down your back, along with a delicate, lacy floral pattern stitched across your top that flowed down the wispy length of your gown. There were few times that you had ever admitted it to yourself, but you had truly never felt more beautiful than when you were wearing that dress, and when you had tried it on for the first time, only to turn around to see the tears welling in your mom and Connie’s eyes as you revealed it to them, it was every confirmation that you needed that this dress was made for you.

And while you had been counting down the days in excitement, waiting to put your dress on for your big day, Javi had been counting down along with you, to the point where Connie had made the executive decision to keep the dress at her house to prevent any preemptive peeking, considering that Javi had spent every day since you had bought your dress telling you how he couldn’t wait to see how beautiful you were going to look in it, without even knowing a single clue about what you had boughten, besides your lovingly sarcastic and vague “It’s a dress, and it’s white, Jav.”

But after all the time you had spent imagining what it would be like to finally put your dress on for your actual wedding day, you almost couldn’t believe that you were finally here, carefully taking the straps off the hanger where it had been resting, holding the beautiful, white fabric out in front of you with a goofy grin spread across your face, eyeing down the outfit that meant you got to spend forever with your best friend.

“You ready to put it on?” Connie asked softly, her hand resting on your shoulder as she stepped behind you, excitedly gazing at your dress right alongside you.

“Yeah.” You smiled, gently nodding your head as you looked back at Connie, taking one last deep breath before passing off the dress to her before shimmying out of your clothes, letting them fall to a pile on the floor before turning to Connie, stepping into the opening of the dress and carefully pulling each strap over your shoulders while she pulled the zipper along your back, letting out a little sigh of relief as it clasped at the top. With one more long inhale, you slowly turned around to face everyone, eagerly awaiting your reveal, picking up your gown with a little floof as it gently draped around you, meeting the tears and smiles painted across everyone’s faces while they gazed at you.

“Auntie Bear, you look like a princess! Uncle Javi is gonna think that you look like the most beautifulest person he’s ever seen.” Olivia squealed, jumping up and down in excitement before running over to you, wrapping her little arms around your waist in a tight hug.

“Oh sweetheart…. You look absolutely stunning.” Your mom sniffled through her tears, holding her hands crossed over her chest, soaking in your full wedding ensemble.

“You look gorgeous. Like, seriously. I hope you know that Javi’s gonna lose his mind when he sees you in this.” Connie giggled, giving you a wink and a playful nudge, looking you up and down in astonishment.

Stepping over to see yourself in the mirror, your heart skipped a beat to see yourself, your stomach churning with anxious, excited butterflies knowing that you were only getting closer and closer to finally seeing Javi and his reaction, trying your best to not your smirk grow too wide between your warm cheeks, thinking about his reaction.

“You really think he’s gonna like it?” You asked, your eyes still fixed at your reflection in the mirror, gently swaying your lacy, floral skirt back and forth, running your hand against the delicate fabric.

“Honey, I’ve watched that man ogle over you in a hockey jersey. I told the boys they’re in charge of making sure he doesn’t faint when you walk down the aisle.” Your mom teased, Connie nodding her head in agreement.

“I’m gonna second your mom on this one, girl. Steve has a running bet with the guys on how long it takes Javi to cry after he sees you. I think the over/under is 2 seconds, but after seeing you right now, I’m convinced he’s all waterworks from the moment he lays eyes on you.”

Connie’s comment made you laugh to yourself, shaking your head at the idea of Javi instantly bursting into tears from just the sight of you, but when you thought about seeing Javi in his tux (that you had already seen before, multiple times) and what a mess you were going to be, maybe the boy’s betting line didn’t seem so unfair after all.

“Speaking of tears…” Connie smirked at your mom, nodding at her to signify some little secret they seemed to be in on, “There’s one last thing you need to see before… Well, we’ll let you open it up and find out.”

With that, your mom reached over to one of the tables where a white box with a neatly wrapped bow had been hidden, your mom passing it to Connie before then passing it over to you, making you tilt your head in confusion as you took the box in your hands, looking back and forth between your mom, Connie and the box waiting for some sort of explanation.

“What is this?” you questioned, still puzzled as you noticed the gift tag hidden under the bow, gently peeling it open, their suspicious smirks beginning to spread as you read the all too familiar scratchy handwriting inside.

To: Osita

Love: Javi

Now even more confused, you carefully began unwrapping the bow from around the packaging, letting the ribbon fall to the floor, followed by the lid of the box, revealing another longer note from Javi, resting on top of a bed of neatly folded tissue paper. You sat down in one of the chairs close by, letting the box rest on your lap as you held the note in your hands, already beginning to tremble as you felt the tears start to well in your eyes as you began to read.

Osita,

I knew from the moment I met you, that I wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you. I can’t believe that day is finally here. I hope that this day is everything that you could ever dream it to be.

I hope you know that if I could I would give you everything. The moon, the sun, the stars- if you wanted it, I would give it to you.

But I know that no matter how hard I try, there is one thing I know can’t give to you, and that’s the presence of the people who aren’t with us anymore.

And while I can’t bring back your brother or my mom to be here today, I hope that what’s in this box will remind you that they’ll always be here for you, no matter what.

I know my mom would have wanted you to have this. There’s not a day that goes by that I wish she could have met you. She would have loved you so much. I hope she knows that you’re the best thing that could have ever happened to me.

Your family was able to find something of your brother’s for you to have on here too- I wish I could have met him. I hope he knows how much I love you, and the beautiful and resilient woman you’ve become. I hope he knows how proud I am of you.

I can’t wait to see you, amor. I can’t even imagine how beautiful you look right now. I’m the luckiest man in the world.

I love you more than words, and I promise I’ll spend every day for the rest of my life making sure you know it.

Happy Wedding Day, Osita. Soy tuyo para siempre (I’m yours forever).

-J

You could feel your heart practically exploding after reading what Javi had wrote for you, wiping away the wetness from your cheeks, you took a deep breath as you carefully set down his note next to you before ever so slowly peeling back the layers of tissue paper folded on top of one another, hiding the gift hidden beneath them. As the last layer of the delicate paper was shed, you let out a gasp, you hand covering your mouth in shock as you put together the pieces of Javi’s note and the present now sitting in your lap, looking up at everyone else in the room, nodding back at you with sympathetic smiles and tears in their eyes at your realization.

Not only had Javi had given you his mother’s wedding veil to wear, but stitched in the bottom corner was a patch of Patrick’s old hockey jerseys, a small number 2 from his arm sleeve, the number he had worn for every jersey he had ever played in.

“Oh my… Oh my god? I can’t, I- how did you- oh my god.” You whispered to yourself, your voice trembling in disbelief, tears now streaming down your face as you held the veil in your hands, your thumb gently tracing over the worn patch of Patrick’s jersey, truly too stunned to speak at what Javi had done for you, to make sure a piece of two people who were no longer with you could still be a part of the biggest day of your life.

“Can I put it on?” Your mom asked, smiling at you with tears in her eyes, walking towards you as you nodded, handing her over the veil as she gently nestled it into your hair, straightening it out behind you, even more tears streaming down her face while she watched your reaction in the mirror.

Not only was Lucia’s veil absolutely beautiful, if you hadn’t known any better, you would have thought Javi had asked someone to see what your dress looked like to pick out a veil that matched it perfectly. Like it truly was meant to be.

Still too shocked to form any sort of coherent thought, you stared at yourself in the mirror, silently smiling and crying at your reflection until a soft knock came from outside the bedroom door, making everyone in the room whip their heads around to see all of the boys who had just arrived peeking through the door frame, waiting in anticipation.

“Can we come in? We’re dyin’ to see you, Cubby. Well, the one who’s dyin to see you the most we banished to the outside so he wasn’t even tempted to come in, but the rest of us fools still wanna see you too.” Your dad’s voice chuckled from behind the door, making you break from your crying just enough to let a soft laugh escape from your chest, nodding your head as you turned around to greet the gang gathered at the door.

Growing up the youngest of 3 brothers, sentimental wasn’t a term thrown around in your household very often. Of course you loved your family, and they loved you, but you and your brothers had often joked that it’d probably be easier to projectile vomit than to actually say the words “I love you” eachother. So that’s why when your dad and brothers walked through the door with awestruck looks on their faces, you couldn’t help but start crying even more.

Well, until they actually got a chance to speak.

“Don’t cry you dingus, you’re gonna mess up all your makeup. And god knows how long it took to try and make you look like you didn’t just crawl out of a garbage can.” David quietly snickered, pulling you in for a much gentler than usual headlock before wrapping his arms around you for a legitimate hug.

“Fuck off, David. How many people had to help you put that suit on, huh? You use every last brain cell trying to do up those buttons?” You teased back, trying to wipe the tears that had been rolling down your cheeks before giving him a loving slap to the stomach, making the two of you laugh even more.

“You know his dumbass needed all the help he could get.” Charlie joked, pulling you in for another hug before stepping back to look you up and down, “Not too shabby. You clean up good, Cubby.”

“Thanks Charlie.”

The last one to step towards you was your dad, who you could tell was trying with everything in him not to absolutely burst into tears, putting one hand on your shoulder as he smiled at you. “I’ll say it once and I won’t say it again because you know as well as I do I’m not good with the sappy shit. You look beautiful, Cubby. I’m so proud of you. I know Patrick would have been too. Although that motherfucker is probably pissed at us that we cut the number off of his favorite jersey, but I think he’ll forgive us.” Wrapping you in a tight squeeze, your dad engulfed you in a bear hug, quickly followed by your brothers and your mom, trapping you in the center of their bodies, knowing you all were wishing there was one more person there in your group to fill in your hug.

“I love you guys. Thank you.” You whispered, just loud enough to make sure they could hear, but quiet enough that even though your brothers had heard it, just this once, they wouldn’t give you shit for it. And just this once, everyone seemed to silently agree that they really, truly, did love you too.

After a few more seconds of your group hug, there was another soft knock on the door, followed by another familiar voice, Chucho and Steve now peeking through the doorway to say hello.

“Is it okay if we come in, Mija?” Chuco asked, already halfway through the door in excitement.

“Yes, of course.” You sniffed, breaking free from the middle of your group hug to greet Chucho, less than shocked that his hug was almost tighter than the 4 other members of your family combined.

“Mija… Mija, you look so beautiful. Oh, goodness. I had always saved this veil one day, just in case. And even though it sat in the attic for years, I pulled it out the week that Javier first met you. I don’t think that there was ever a doubt in anyone’s mind that you weren’t the one for him. My sweet Lucia would have been so happy to know that you have given Javier everything he never thought that he deserved. Oh, how I wish with everything she could have been here today to see how happy you make him. But I hope that you know, she would have been so excited that you get to be a part of our family.” He grinned through his tears, stepping back to look at you with a soft smile on his face, gently reaching up to wipe away the wetness on your cheek before pulling you back in for another hug. “I hope you know that Javier is going to be a wreck when he sees you. Poor boy has been in shambles all day waiting to see you.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen the man this anxious. And that’s sayin’ somethin’.” Steve chimed in, laughing to himself. “You look great, sweetheart. Chucho’s right, Javi’s ‘bout to be a goddamn mess.”

As if your heart couldn’t feel any fuller from all of the love and warmth overflowing into the room, you had almost forgotten about the one person that had brought you all together in the first place- Javi.

You could feel the pace of your heart begin to race, your stomach swirling in anticipation as the reality of the situation slowly began to sink in.

Your future husband was here, and there was nothing more in the world that you wanted than to see him. Not soon, not at the end of the aisle, not waiting for you at the altar, right this very second.

“He’s here, right? Javi?” You asked, biting down on your lip to contain the stupid grin growing between your cheeks, swaying back and forth on your heels in childlike impatience. Before you could barely ask your question, all eyes in the room were on your, giving you a collective look that seemed to scream “Seriously? You can’t wait either?” without having to say a word.

As you could hear the beginning rumblings of protest, David stepped in as the most unexpected voice of reason, holding his hands up to the crowd in your defense, trying to silence everyone’s potential disagreement for what you were about to suggest.

“Listen… Y’all know as well as I do that we could hold back these two with iron restraints, and they’d still probably find a way to see each other before the ceremony. And to be quite honest, I am pretty convinced if we don’t let them, one of them is gonna fucking combust, and I am not willing to be held personally responsible for any damages done before you two idiots can even get married.”

Giving you a silent nod of approval, David stepped back to pat your back with the loving force that only a brother could, as everyone else in the room seemed to very quickly agree with his sentiment, joining with head bobs of quiet agreement.

“I’ll go let the big man know you’re comin’. Gotta find some way to redeem myself before I bust his balls in my speech later.” Steve snickered, giving you a quick wink before quickly disappearing out the door to find the man behind it, waiting half as patiently as you.

To say that Javi was disappointed when the boys booted him to the outdoors while everyone else got to go in and see you was the understatement of the year. Even though he couldn’t have been sitting on the front porch of his childhood home for more than 10 minutes, it felt like he had been waiting for hours, counting down each second until the moment he finally got to lay his eyes on you. After about 2 minutes of sitting in his dad’s rocking chair, nervously swaying as his hands shifted between his fingers drumming on his legs and balling up in anxious fists, he pushed himself up to stand, walking off the steps of the porch to pace in the front yard under the warmth of the late June sun.

He had been so preoccupied as he meandered the front of the home, picturing just how breathtaking you would look as you walked down the aisle to greet him- how gorgeous you would be in your dress, your hair, your stunning smile, everything about you that made him look at you and know that he was the luckiest man in the world. That you were his. That you were everything that made him feel like home. It wasn’t until after a few careless steps too far around the corner of the house, that Javi was catching himself from tumbling to the ground as he tripped over a larger than suspected rock underneath him, quietly cursing under his breath while he tried to steady himself, peering down at the ground to see what had almost caused his fall. And when he finally read the words etched into the round stone beneath him, he couldn’t help but laugh at the fact the thing resting below him was none other than the heading that read “Lucia’s Garden”.

“Jesus Christ, Ma, you’re not even here and you’re gonna take me out before the wedding even happens.” Javi chuckled to himself, gently tapping his foot against the rock, staring at the worn and weathered letters of her name. “You know, the very first time Pops met her, he let her work on the garden. I couldn’t believe it, because he barely lets me within 10 feet of here without worrying I’m gonna ruin something. But uh, I think that he knew. I think before he even met her, he already knew that she was the one.”

Letting out a soft sigh, Javi crouched down, squatting next to the stone, gently brushing his thumb across the grittiness, carefully tracing each letter back and forth, praying with every ounce of him that one way or another, she could hear what he had to say.

“I really wish you could be here, Mom. I really miss you. I really wish she could have gotten to meet you. I know that you’d love her.” Javi paused, his eyes beginning to well with tears, letting out a long, shaky exhale to try and compose himself. “She’s so good to me. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve her. She’s made me a better man. A man that I’m proud of. A man I hope you’d be proud of, too.” He paused again, pinching the bridge of his nose before wiping his wet cheeks with the back of his hand. “I know that uh- I know before, um you were gone, that you really worried about me. I know you’d never say it, but um, I could tell. And I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Mom.” His voice was now barely above a whisper, years of guilt and anger bubbling in his chest for the person he’d been, the life his mother had lived to see him play out while halfway across the world, fighting for a cause he wasn’t even sure he believed in anymore.

“But, I um- I just- fuck, I just want you to know that I’m okay. I’m more than okay, now. This is the happiest I’ve ever been, all because of her. We’re gonna build a house, we’re gonna have kids, we’re gonna be so happy, Mom. So fucking happy. Te amo mucho, Mama. Siempre lo hare (I love you so much, Mama. I always will).”

So focused on the quiet conversation with the simple stone sitting beneath him, Javi hadn’t even heard Steve’s hurried footsteps creeping up behind him, making Javi practically jump out of his skin as Steve’s hand met his shoulder.

“Hey, buddy. You ready to-”

“Jesus, fuck Murph. You scared the fucking shit out of me.” Javi gasped, thoroughly startled as he shot to his feet, quickly trying to wipe the tears from his face as he faced his friend.

“Sorry, man, I didn’t mean to, promise!” Steve laughed, holding his hands up in defense before letting his expression shift to concern at Javi’s face. “Hey, you okay, Jav?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m- No, I’m good, sorry. Just um- Just wish my mom could have been here for this, ya know? She would have really fucking loved her.”

“Hey, it’s okay, man. My dad was gone before my wedding, too. Fuckin’ sucks.” Steve smiled sympathetically, “Truth be told Jav, that girl you’re gonna marry, I think it’s hard for anyone not to love her. Your mom would be really happy for ya.”

“Thanks, Murph.” Javi huffed, a small smile spreading across his face at Steve’s genuine sympathy, a trait he didn’t see very often.

“C’mere, buddy.” Without giving him a choice, Steve wrapped his arms around Javi, pulling him in for a hug with a few stiff pats on the back before pulling away with a nod, hands on his hips as he stared down his friend with a shit eating grin, knowing the news he was about to tell Javi would instantly turn his mood around. “Speakin’ of your future wife… You wanna see her?”

“Wait, like, now? Like, actually?” Javi’s mood instantly shifted, his entire body lighting up at the prospect, looking at Steve with relief glistening in his dark brown eyes.

“Yeah, actually. Thank God your wife is just as obsessed with you as you are with her. Jesus Christ, I think the both of ya would have fuckin’ exploded if we made you wait ‘till the ceremony.” Steve chuckled, grabbing Javi’s shoulder and giving it a playful shake. “Alright, you turn around so it’s a surprise when she gets out here, lemme go get her. And Jav?” Steve asked, turning his head back over his shoulder to look at his friend as he began to walk away back towards the house.

“Yeah, Murph?”

“You’re losin’ that bet. No way in fuckin’ hell you ain’t sobbin’ like a baby the second you lay eyes on her.”

As Steve disappeared back into the house, Javi couldn’t help but quietly laugh to himself, because as much as he wanted to dish shit back to Steve, he knew his friend was right- He was about to be a fucking mess.

“So? Are we good? Does he wanna see me?” You asked, anxiously waiting at the door, feet tapping on the floor hidden underneath your dress as you waited for Steve’s return.

“No offense, Sweetheart, but that's just about the dumbest question I've ever heard. What do you think? Of course the bastard wants to see you. I’m just gonna warn ya though, that man is a hot mess, and I really think ya just may kill him the second he sees you.” The two of you laughed to yourselves, feeling your heart beat faster and faster in your chest with every passing second, using all of your self restraint to keep from bolting out the door past Steve to see Javi. “Alright, I won’t keep ya any longer, go get ‘em, killer.”

Before you could get yourself out the door, you embraced Steve in a hug, catching him off guard for a moment before he hugged you back, smiles spread across both your faces.

“Thanks, Steve.”

“Sweetheart, you ain’t got nothin’ to thank me for. If anything, hell, I should be thankin’ you. You two lovebirds are a match made in fuckin’ heaven. I was real worried about that old bastard for a long time. Glad to know I don’t have to worry about him anymore. Well, at least too much more. Now, enough about my sorry ass, go see your husband.”

With a silent nod, you gave Steve one more quick hug before you were turning the knob to the front door, quietly stepping out to the front porch to see Javi’s back to you at the bottom of the stairs, already trying to fight the tears welling in your eyes without even seeing his face. As you closed the door behind you, Javi instantly perked up, turning his head back over his shoulder just enough to speak, but not enough to see that it was you who was walking to greet him.

“She good to come out, Murph? I’m fucking dying out here.” Javi laughed, making you giggle at the fact that he had no idea it was you who was standing behind him.

“Hate to break it to you, but unfortunately, I am not Steve. So sorry.” You snickered, practically feeling Javi’s eyes roll at your sarcastic comment, even though the both of you were thankful for a little humor to break the anxious anticipation that had been festering in your stomachs since this morning.

“God, you’re such a dork.” He laughed, his back still turned to you as you took your final steps down the stairs with your dress in hand, trying to fluff it back out as you settled yourself behind him.

“Hey, you’ve got me for the rest of your life, babe. Lucky you. I’m not gonna lie, don’t think I cleaned up half bad, ya know, if you wanna see.” You teased, giving Javi a playful poke on the back as you bit down on your bottom lip, so excited to see Javi’s reaction you truly thought your heart was going to explode out of your chest.

“Baby, you have no fucking idea. C-can I, can I see you?” Javi stammered, his voice already beginning to tremble.

“Well, I think I’m gonna implode if you don’t, so yeah.” You took one last long inhale in, holding your breath as Javi slowly began to turn to face you, feeling like everything was suddenly moving in slow motion when Javi’s eyes finally locked with yours.

Javi couldn’t even get a word out before his hands were covering his mouth, his jaw dropping open in absolute awe to see you standing behind him. The tears he swore to himself he’d try to fight back were already streaming down his face, his eyes looking you up and down over and over again, trying to soak in every ounce of you, only crying harder as he noticed each and every new detail of you standing before him.

“Osita… Oh my god. Oh my god.” Javi’s hand stayed glued over his mouth to try and keep his jaw from dropping any further than it already was, absolutely mesmerized by your beauty, barely able to get out any sort of coherent thought out of his brain. “Baby, you, oh my god, you look so beautiful. You look so fucking beautiful.”

While you figured that Javi would cry and be excited to see you, nothing could have prepared you for the reaction that you were witnessing in real time, watching your future husband become a complete, blubbering mess at the sight of you, making it damn near impossible for you to hold it together yourself, considering the fact that you were also busy trying to take in the ridiculously handsome sight of Javi in his tuxedo- his broad body filling out every inch of the black fabric perfectly, hair and mustache impeccably groomed, and sweet, teary brown eyes sparkling in the sunlight, making you melt, tears rolling down your face as your heart bursted at the seams over and over again, wondering how in the world this wasn’t all some sort of a perfect dream.

“You like it?” You managed to choke out through your happy sobs, your cheeks straining from the stupid grin that had spread across your face, the both of you radiating in the blissful glow of your excitement.

“Like it? Osita, are you fucking kidding me? Do I like it? Holy shit, baby, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. You look... Osita, you look incredible.” Javi laughed through his tears, taking another step back to grab your hand, looking you up and down again before holding your arms up to twirl you in a circle, your dress flowing around you, making you giggle as you finally finished rotating to lock eyes with Javi again. “Hermosa, I knew you were gonna look amazing, but I- I never, I never could have imagined that you were gonna look like this.”

“Coming from you? Jesus, Jav, I’m convinced you’re trying to kill me in that tux before we can even get married. You look so good. Javi?” You paused, grabbing his other hand so your fingers were intertwined, his thumb automatically tracing soft circles on your skin.

“Yeah, baby?” Javi replied, biting down on his bottom lip as he gulped, trying to hold back the lump resting in his throat from his happy tears as he stared down at you.

“Javi… We’re getting married. We’re getting fucking married.”

“Fuck. We’re getting married. Holy shit.” As if the smile on Javi’s face couldn’t get any wider, his boyish grin gleamed between his cheeks, wrapping his arms around you to engulf you in a tight hug against his chest, the two of you laughing to yourself in disbelief that you had finally made it here- that only a few short moments, the two of you got to begin the rest of your forevers together. “Can I- Can I kiss you?” He asked in a soft whisper, pulling back to tilt his head towards yours, sliding one of his hands up to gently cup your cheek, shifting your gaze up towards him.

“What kind of question is that, you dork?” You teased, bringing your mouth close enough to his to let your lips barely ghost over one anothers, butterflies swarming in a sea of excitement.

“Because I’m afraid if I start kissing you, I’m not gonna be able to stop.”

“Do your worst, Peña.”

As if time began to move in slow motion, your mouths met with an electric and tender intensity, slowly becoming a mix of tangled tongues and teeth, your hand sneaking under the opening of Javi’s suit jacket to wrap around his waist as the grip around your face began to tighten, your bodies melting together as one in a nearly magical moment- Well, as magical as it could get before being interrupted by all your friends and family that had gathered on the front porch to share in the moment with you.

“Hey! Lovebirds! Jesus Christ, save it for the ceremony!” Steve shouted, a chorus of laughter erupting behind him, startling you and Javi.

“Good Lord, Steve, give it a rest. They missed each other!” Connie sighed, shaking her head at her husband’s loud interruption.

“Yeah, that’s our sister, you pervert!” David chimed in, the familiarity of his taunting voice making you roll your eyes, putting your hands on your hips as you stared back at the crowd.

“Will you can it, you dingus? It’s their wedding day for Christ’s sake!” Your dad groaned, slapping David in the back of the head.

“Daddy, what’s a pervert?” Olivia asked, looking over at Charlie as Chucho held her against his hip, grimacing as he tried not to laugh at the exchange.

“Seriously David, really? Grow up! They’re so adorable, let your sister have this.” Your mom scolded, promptly giving him another whack to the stomach, you and Javi now laughing to each other at the scene that was unfolding in front of you on the porch.

“Well,” You giggled, giving Javi a playful nudge, “It seems like everyone else has been able to solve the ‘you not being able to stop kissing me’ problem.”

“Jesus Christ…” Javi sighed to himself, running his hand over his face as he stared back into the crowd watching you and him, “Can we get a few more minutes to ourselves before the ceremony? Please? I haven’t seen her all day.”

“C’mon, let’s give the two some privacy. Lindas (cuties), why don’t we go look to make sure all the flowers are ready. Maybe we can practice walking down the aisle again?” Cucho smiled at the two of you, giving Javi a subtle wink as the girls began to giggle with delight, racing off to the backyard in a fit of squeals of excitement.

“We’ll do another check of everything, too, I wanna make sure everything’s in place before the ceremony. Do you mind helping, Connie? Boys, will you go check to make sure all the food and drinks are ready for cocktail hour” Your mom asked, picking up on Chucho’s hint to give the two of you some space, now trying to rope your dad, brothers and Steve into that equation as well.

“Can I have a beer if I help?”

“Jesus Christ, David.”

Everyone's conversations began to trail as they headed their separate ways, leaving you and Javi standing in the front yard alone, once again, looking at each other with mischievous grins- Yours from knowing damn well that Javi had something up his sleeve, and Javi’s from the something stored up there.

“What’s that look for, Jav?” You smirked, crossing your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow at Javi as you waited for him to let you in on whatever plan he had brewing in his brain.

“I think… I think that I really have to go to the bathroom.” Javi replied, boyish grin glowing between his cheeks as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to his chest.

“And you’re really making it seem like going to the bathroom is a two person job.” You snickered, rolling your eyes at Javi, knowing exactly what he was implying. “Baby, the ceremony is gonna start in an hour, everyone’s here and I don’t think there’s gonna be enough-”

Before you could finish your thought, Javi was swallowing the rest of your sentence in a long, deep kiss, only pulling away to quietly rasp in your ear.

“Is that a challenge, Osita? I promise I’ll be fast, baby, you just look so fucking beautiful, and I don’t think I’m gonna make it if I can’t have my wife all to myself, even if it’s just for a few minutes. ”

“God, you’re such a drama queen.” You sighed with a snicker, heat creeping in your core knowing that you had just as little self control as Javi did, peeking your head to make sure that everyone had dispersed before they watched you and Javi sneak inside together. “We have to be quick, okay? I just don’t want-AH! Javi!” You squealed as Javi was scooping you off your feet mid sentence, very fittingly carrying you bridal style across the front yard and up the steps of the porch, nudging the door open with his hip, the two of you all giggles and smiles as he whisked you through the house, stopping at his childhood bedroom, promptly setting you on the ground to shut the door behind him.

With a click of the lock and a rattle of the door handle to make sure they were safe from intruders, Javi’s hands were all over you in an instant, his mouth crashing into yours as he walked you back towards the ensuite attached to his bedroom, hoisting you up onto the kitchen sink as he shut the bathroom door behind him for an extra layer of protection.

You could tell how hard Javi was trying to keep himself in check, considering the amount of time and effort that had gone into your hair and makeup, and the delicacy of your dress, but it was taking every ounce of self control he had to not rip it right off you. Softly letting his kisses trail down your body, Javi began to sink to his knees, smirking up at you with his awestruck gaze as he carefully began to lift up the layers of your dress, running his hands up and down your bare thighs.

“Do you know how fucking beautiful you are, Osita? Fuck, I can’t believe you’re gonna be my wife. My beautiful, amazing, perfect wife.” The hot breath of his words danced against your skin as Javi peppered soft kisses up the inside of your thighs, his head almost disappearing underneath your dress as he creeped closer and closer to your core, already soaked with your arousal waiting for Javi’s touch. “You’re mine forever, Hermosa. Fuck, I’m so lucky. I love you so much.”

“I-I love you too, Javi.” You whined, your breath already shaky as Javi’s fingers hooked around the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down your legs and letting them drop to the floor below you before letting his fingers glide through your folds, already glistening with your arousal.

“Fuck, you’re already so wet, baby. Can’t believe this perfect pussy is all mine forever too. God, you’re so fucking perfect. Everything about you. Mmmm, I know we don’t have a lot of time, but I have to taste you, Hermosa. Can I, baby?” Javi mewled, making you gasp as he gently slid two fingers into your aching core, curling them to bump against the spongy spot inside you that already had you fisting at the edge of the bathroom counter to try and keep your composure, and better yet, your voice down.

“Javi… Oh, shit. Fuck, Fu-ahhhhh.” You moaned, feeling the strong arch of Javi’s nose bumping against your clit, placing a soft kiss there before the flat of his tongue licked a long, broad stroke across your cunt, putting just the right amount of pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves as his fingers worked in tandem to send the sweet tingling sensation to start building in your spine.

While Javi would have loved to take every second of his sweet time to savor in watching you fall apart on his tongue, he knew just as well as you that he was working on a limited schedule, and wanted, no, needed to make sure he could get you off at least once before his luck ran out.

Javi began to work his tongue against your clit, circling and flicking in fast and firm motions as his fingers curled deeper into your heat, his free hand hooking around your thigh and draping it over his shoulder, digging his fingertips into the meat of your flesh, like he was trying to ground himself more than you.

You could already feel the coil in your stomach beginning to tighten from the way Javi was working so relentlessly to make you come undone, drinking every ounce of you up as, his lips now latching around your sensitive bundle of nerves, making your back arch and mind go blank while that all too familiar tingle began to creep through your core, cunt beginning to clench tighter and tighter around Javi’s fingers with every movement of his mouth against you.

“That’s it, mi amor.” Javi cooed, peeking his head out from under you just enough so that his sweet, brown eyes were locked with yours, the hot words of his breath dancing against your pussy as his fingers continued to rock in and out of you. “I’ve got you, Osita. Forever. I’ve always got you. Promento (I promise).”

Before you could respond, your jaw dropped open and face scrunched in pleasure as Javi dove back in, burying his face in your cunt as each press of his tongue became more firm and precise than the last, feeling your pussy begin to flutter as you clutched tighter around the edge of the counter, trying to keep from screaming out in pleasure and raise any suspicion. But as your legs began to tremble and heart race, teetering on the brink of collapse, it was taking every ounce of willpower you had left to make that happen

“Fuck, Javi. Oh shit- Baby, I’m so close, I’m so close, I’m so cl-ooohhhhh.” You whimpered, feeling your orgasm crash through you, pleasure radiating in your veins as you fell apart, losing all inhibitions to keep yourself quiet as you threw your head back in all consuming bliss. With his fingers still buried in your cunt, gently working you through your high, Javi shot back up, his mouth engulfing yours in an electric kiss to try and capture your ragged moans that had been coating the walls of the bathroom, the tangy taste of you still lingering on his lips.

Your heartbeat finally began to slow, your chest heaving in long, heavy breaths as you slumped into Javi, your head resting on his shoulder, shuttering at the loss of Javi’s fingers inside you. He carefully pulled them out, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean with a devilish smirk of satisfaction on his face.

“Tastes so fucking sweet. My wife tastes so fucking sweet. Fuck, I don’t think I’ll ever get over that.” Javi chuckled with a boyish grin, gently cupping his hand under your chin as the other wrapped around your waist.

“Get over what? Calling me your wife or eating me out?” You giggled, still trying to catch your breath as you came down from your high, biting down on your lip as your arms draped over Javi’s shoulders, your fingers tracing soft circles at the nape of his neck.

“Both. Fuck, I love you so much.”

“I love you so much too, you menace.” You smiled, tilting your head back to kiss Javi again, so blissfully lost in the moment, that the two of you both about jumped out of your skin when you heard a loud knock coming from the bedroom door.

“Jav? You in here, buddy?”

“Goddamnit, Murph…”

The familiar twang of Steve’s voice made you freeze in fear, Javi quickly helping you down off the counter as he cursed to himself before the two of you were trying your best to fix yourselves up in the mirror to try and hide any signs of the horny whirlwind that had blown through the bathroom.

“Javi?” Steve called out again, continuing to knock on the door.

“Yeah, I’m here, just uh- Just give me a second, Murph.” Javi sighed, the two of you trying to keep from laughing at your current predicament, wondering how the hell Javi was going to talk you both out of this one.

“What’s the plan, Peña?” You giggled, giving Javi a playful nudge as he carefully turned the knob to the bathroom door.

“To tell Murph to fuck off if he tries to give me shit.” The two of you quietly snorted, feeling a little less guilty than you would have if it wasn’t your wedding day. “You stay here, okay? I’ll take care of him.” He smiled, pressing a soft kiss on your cheek as he opened the door.

“God, I love you.”

“I love you too, Osita.”

Closing the bathroom door behind him, Javi took a few deep breaths as he ran his hands through his hair, turning the knob to open up his bedroom door to be greeted by an unamused Steve leaning in the door frame.

“What’s up, Murph? We were just, uh-” Javi asked, trying his best to stay casual.

“I fuckin’ knew it. Don’t ‘what’s up’ me, you horny bastard.” Steve groaned, rolling his eyes at his friend. “Y’all haven’t even made it to the ceremony yet! Jesus Fuckin’ Christ. Everyone’s been lookin’ for y’all. I had a fuckin’ feeling this is what you two were up two, and as your Best Man, I’ll cover for your ass now, but I sure as shit ain’t doin’ this all night for you two rabbits. Now c’mon, Casanova, go get your wife from in there and come outside. Remember that thing y’all gotta do where you actually go get married?” Steve teased, slapping Javi in the chest before shaking his head at his friend, his cheeks pink in embarrassment as his eyes darted to the floor.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll be out in a second.” Javi grumbled sheepishly, quietly accepting defeat.

“An actual second, ya hear? Not a horny Javier Peña second, or I swear to God.” Steve groaned, raising an eyebrow at Javi.

“Promise.”

“Alright then. Chop, chop, Mr. Peña. Let’s go get your ass married.” Steve laughed, grabbing Javi by the shoulder before giving him a little shake and disappearing back down the hallway.

Hearing Steve’s voice and footsteps fade, you slowly peeked your head out of the bathroom door to see Javi standing by himself, head buried in his hands, pinching the bridge of his nose before turning back to see your face, equally embarrassed as his.

“... He knew, didn’t he?” You grimaced, now fully opening the door and walking through to meet Javi on the other side.

“Yup.” Javi sighed, adding an extra emphasis to the “p” with a pop.

“Well… Either Steve has the world’s most unlucky timing, or he just needs to do a better job of minding his business.” The two of you snickered, crossing your arms over your chest as you stared up at Javi. “Or maybe someone needs to stop being such a bad influence.” You teased, poking Javi in the chest.

“Me? I’m the bad influence? Okay.” Javi chuckled, teasing you right back. “Sorry I’m getting married to the hottest woman alive and I can’t help myself. My gorgeous wife is one not making it any easier on me.”

“Still not technically your wife yet, you dork.”

“Close enough.”

Grabbing you by your waist, Javi pulled you flush against chest, tilting his head in for a long, tender kiss- the kind that made heat creep through your cheeks and butterflies churn in your stomach, the kind that made your heart beat a million miles a minute, the kind that seemed to make everything else in the world stand still, even if just for a moment. The kind of kiss that made you know without a single doubt that you had never been more in love than you were at this very moment.

“I love you, Javi.”

“I love you too, Osita.”

“You wanna go get married?”

“Mrs. Peña,” Javi grinned, grabbing your hand to interlock it with his, “There’s nothing I’ve ever wanted more in my fucking life.”

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

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kiwisbell · 6 months

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Las Mañanas [javier pena] -> series masterlist

She’s a waitress in a little café. He’s a DEA agent who likes the coffee. Just the coffee. That’s all. Or, slices of life (and sometimes pie) shared between Javi and his wife, including his tireless journey to making her his wife.

my masterlist

pairing: javier peña x f!reader

series rating: 18+ (mdni)

status: complete

word count: ~ 69k

series tags and warnings: javi getting the love he fucking deserves, friends to lovers, coffee shop AU if you squint really hard, technically infidelity, reader has a shitty husband, domestic violence, violence against women, mentions of sex work, mentions of rape, soft and sweet!javi, protective!javi, grumpy!javi, simp!javi tbh, alcohol, smoking, reader is accident-prone, basically 70k of javi and reader being disgustingly in love, married couple antics, domestic bliss, angst, so much fluff, so much smut (individual tags/warnings in each chapter), mentions of pregnancy, javier has a wife kink, nobody fucks with javi's girl, overuse of spanish pet names, poorly-translated spanish, "she" pronoun used throughout

read on ao3!

CHAPTERS:

chapter one: for all the coffee beans in colombia chapter two: cries for help, lost in the woods chapter three: dreaming in technicolour chapter four: to live without love chapter five: love me until i love myself chapter six: holding the sun in his hands chapter seven: granted wishes from your maker chapter eight: siempre

a/n: babygirl is getting a home on tumblr!! this was the first fic i ever posted to ao3, my firstborn child, and it means a lot to me. thank you from the bottom of my heart to the amount of people who have found me through las mañanas, recommended it to their friends, or come back to reread - i love every single one of you so much, and thank you for encouraging me to keep doing what i love. you're all super fucking awesome, i mean it 🫶

xoxo kiwi

#kiwisbell's fics #narcos #narcos fic #javier peña smut #javier peña #javier peña fic #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #las mañanas

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sanyu-thewitch05 · 3 months

Note

I keep thinking about Yandere husband fucking his cute,sexy wife while calling her his little slut/whore

A/N: So I didn't know if you were talking about an old oc or not, so I just made up a name for the husband. Also, happy holidays, and sorry this came out so late. I got caught up in holiday celebrations and sleep.

TW: Dubcon, general smut, breeding/impregnation kink, teasing

Your husband, Leroy Angelou, had kidnapped you almost a year ago. He kept you in his mansion, left hickeys to mark you, and forcibly spoiled you beyond comprehension. Of course said spoiling came with the price of having a tracker implanted into your wrist so you can't escape. But that didn't bother you much since Leroy made sure you never left the mansion's grounds. Not even to pick up mail. Now it's your wedding day and you've already arrived at your honeymoon spot in Colombia.

"Surprise, babe! I know you've always wanted to visit Colombia, so I picked out Playa Blanca so you can enjoy the beach and visit Cartagena!" Leroy exclaims, removing his hands from your eyes.

"Oh, thank you," You softly say, looking at the beef empanadas, pink alcoholic drinks, and chocolates.

"What? What is it? Do you not like the color of the rose petals on the bed?" Leroy asks frantically, holding your shoulders. "Do you not like the meat choice for the empanadas? I can get some chicken ones if you want."

"No, it's not that. It's..." You murmur looking at your wedding ring.

"Don't tell me you're mad that I married you? We said I do on the altar, and that's all. Aside from a couple of tax changes, it'll be no different than dating me," Leroy reassures, picking you up princess style. "We'll have a great honeymoon and marriage. I promise."

"Since we're married, I want changes. I want the tracker out of my arm, the ability to leave the mansion, and access my bank account again," You say, sitting on the bed.

Leroy chuckles and kisses your forehead. The feeling of absolute creepiness travels throughout your body.

"Of course, my love. I'll do everything you ask and more, on one condition. We consummate the marriage today," Leroy replies, pulling out pink lingerie with frills.

Your freedom for a few minutes of possible pain and more pleasure. You couldn't resist the deal he made. It was so easy to fulfill. But you never wanted this to be your first choice of gaining freedom again.

"Ok, but we'll do it at night. Eleven 'o'clock sharp," You recommend, caressing Leroy's face.

His face moves to your shoulders and he begins to kiss your neck. You push him away, making him sigh.

"I'll be ordering food for us in the lobby," Leroy says, getting off the bed and leaving the room.

When the door shuts, you wait fifteen minutes then make your escape. You run out of the room and go to the elevator. You press the second-floor button so you can run to the beach. When the elevator opens, you rush in not noticing your husband holding a bag of food.

"Sweetie, what are you doing out of the room?" Leroy asks, a hand snaking around your waist.

"I wanted to visit the beach," You reply, hoping Leroy doesn't notice your lie.

"Bullshit. I know when you lie," Leroy growls, spanking your ass.

"Sorry, sir," You squeak, surprising your husband.

"Sir, huh? You're so cute when you try to deny how you feel. Tell you what, I'll give you all the freedom if you take a good fucking from me."

Leroy's hand goes underneath your wedding dress and into your panties to tease your pussy. You can't bare his touch anymore and give in.

"Fine! I'll be your slutty little whore for tonight, just please make me cum!" You moan, holding Leroy's hand in place.

"Good girl," Leroy whispers, taking his hand out your panties as your floor comes up.

The two of you hurry into the hotel room, making sure to flip the little sign to do not disturb. Leroy unzips your dress and you take your panties off.

"Back on the bed, I wanna see all of you," Leroy commands, kissing your neck.

You whimper as his hands play with your clit as he positions you on the bed. He sticks his fingers in you, and you're practically riding them.

"Aw, I know my little slut was ready for me," Leroy coos, adding in more digits. "You want something bigger?"

"Please," You beg, your legs spread open.

"Aw, too bad. You'll have to wait until I'm done to get it," Leroy teases, slowing down the speed of his fingers.

"Please, please, please!" You beg, grabbing his hand.

"There you go," Leroy coos, speeding up his pace and finishing your foreplay. "Now you get your reward."

Leroy unbuckles his pants and pulls his member out of his underwear.

"Come and get it," Leroy says, letting you straddle him.

You slowly slide down on his dick as Leroy rubs your back to comfort you.

"Sh, you've almost got it. Just a slide down a bit-ah! more," Leroy encourages, kissing your neck. "There you go. You've got it."

You slowly start to ride Leroy, and your husband can't help but moan.

"I'm so glad you let yourself be a little slut for me. I can't wait to fuck you so good and have a family with you," Leroy rambles, thrusting his hips into you.

Leroy pushes you onto your back and taps your thigh for you to wrap your legs around his waist harder. He thrusts into your pussy like an animal in heat and doesn't care that his pants and underwear are down to his ankles. The sound of skin slapping together makes your mind go wild, and you beg for more.

"Leroy, fuck, I-" You moan, letting him make a hickey on your neck. "I love you!"

At those three simple words, Leroy cums inside you and collapses onto your chest. He pants as he kisses your collarbone. Shortly after that, you cum too and your body relaxes. You and your husband enjoy the feeling of each other's sweaty bodies.

"Come on, let's eat our dinner. I got us your favorite dessert too," Leroy says, pulling out of you and grabbing the bag of food. "Say ah, darling!"

"Ah!" You exclaim, gladly being fed by your husband.

"Good girl!" Leroy replies, kissing your cheek and gently rubbing your stomach.

#yandere husband #rich yandere #yandere smut #yandere male #yandere dubcon

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millerscoffee · 9 months

Text

soft spot for trouble | hbf!javi

lit a cigarette and gave it a kiss.

6.3k | javier peña x f!reader

masterlist

rating: 18+ MDNI

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Julian undermining what you wanted... again.

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

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

"No! You didn't!" You gasp. Your mind races at the thought of them taking someone back to their dorm in college. You curb the ache that tempts your middle at thought of Javier and Julian sharing a woman between the two of them.

But that excitement is fleeting when a more sinister, grueling feeling creeps up your stomach.

"You're right. We didn't. Well, I didn't. I just played wingman. Julian here isn't as much of a saint as you thought." Javi says this to make you laugh, but it does the opposite.

Your eyes catch Julian's who now is looking at anywhere else but you. Knowing damn well before the two of you got married, this man prodded and practically bullied sexual information out of you.

Said it was only fair to know each other's pasts before making such a big commitment.

Within a sentence, a simple – stupid – game, the perception of your husband could shift before your very eyes. Your jaw ticks forward and you take a long, contemplative sip of wine.

"O-kay, let's just put these away," Kris muses, taking the cards in her hands.

"No, let's keep going," you antagonise. Your eyes become dull, tongue sharpening by the second. "I think Julian has a story to tell. It's good to know who you're married to."

You remember the way Julian said those very words to you while he was digging your own history of who you've slept with. Like a secret call directly to him... in front of everyone.

You can see Peña shifting in his seat out of your periphery.

"Well, it was in college," Julian speaks now after shooting the rest of his bourbon. His body language involving everyone in the story, but he finally has the courage to look at you. Somehow that hurts worse.

"There were these two girls at the bar we used to go to, and–"

That's when the tear spills over your cheek.

"Alright, I think she's heard enough." Javi's voice is low to Julian and your head snaps in the direction of him like a vulture who's making a meal of something dead.

"You don't get to decide that."

It's only when Gabbie whispers your name do you take heed. "I think we should leave you two to talk about this."

The guests in your home pack up their things until it's you and Julian. "I'm sorry, Jul–"

"Peña just go, man."

Javi nods sadly at your husband, his hand touching your shoulder as he slips out. He's the last one to go, and as the door closes it feels symbolic.

It's silent for a long time.

You go between wanting to cry, wanting to scream, wanting clarity.

Since your own husband didn't bother to give that to you.

"I never cared," you let out an uneven sigh, searching over your husband's features.

He looks defensive, annoyed and it's totally misplaced. You should be the annoyed one. You are the one who got betrayed.

"It never bothered me to tell you my partners. I agreed with you, even. That we should be open and honest to have a better relationship–"

"You really think you're in the position to be on a high horse when you fuck Javier with your eyes?"

It's deflective. A defense mechanism to take the heat off of himself, and unfortunately, it works. Your mouth is left agape.

"What the fuck do you mean?"

"I mean," he begins, tilting his glass to where Javi sat, "whenever this guy is over, I don't exist."

"This guy, is your best friend. Someone you've known way longer than you've known me. Excuse me for being hospitable."

"There's hospitality, then there's throwing yourself at the first man who walks through the door. It's embarrassing."

His words make you feel small for the first time in your relationship.

It causes a crack, irreparable in nature, and you feel a shift.

Because you don't cry, it makes you angry. Puts you back on track as to why you were having this conversation in the first place.

"Embarrassing?" You stand, wine glass in hand, "Embarrassing?! You just confessed something you knew would make me irate in front of our very best friends. Something personal that I should have known in private. You lied to me and you admitted it in front of people we care about. Made me look like a goddamn fool! Don't tell me about being embarrassed, you don't know the first fucking thing. Fuck you, Julian!"

You could throw the wine glass, but you decide to slam it down instead. Grabbing your purse, keys, and jacket to escape without letting him finish his thought. Door slammed. You've heard enough.

Mature. But you were pissed off, and you knew staying in a house that you made a home together wouldn't solve anything.

Maybe getting some fresh air would help.

Maybe walking to the bar in town would be even more helpful.

Your thoughts were swirling, clouding your judgement on the walk in, sneakers on. Your pleated white skirt brushes above your knees that paired with the black top that made your breasts look concealed more than shown off.

As if the forest green bomber jacket didn't help in making you look modest.

What the fuck did Julian know?! You weren't throwing yourself at anybody.

Because you were not thinking about Javi with his shirt off moments before the truth was told, and he did not infiltrate your dreams occasionally with sexual undertones.

It couldn't happen, and it was not happening.

You had been to this bar a few times before. It's dimly lit, a variety of music pumps through the speakers. There's plumes of smoke, and there's something about it that feels safer than when you experienced it in your home. Like a part of you enjoyed it.

Studying the room, you discover Javier Peña on a barstool, staring into his glass of whiskey. You knew Peña to play dirty, but there's something about the way he's contemplating – or at least looks like he's contemplating – that gives off remorse.

"Didn't know you could do that," you kid, taking a seat beside him. Your eyes scan over his jeans, the buttons undone from his red shirt. The way his chest and neck and NO – no!

"Oh, hey," and his dreamy crooked smile, puppy eyes. Jesus Christ, you needed a drink and fast. "Didn't know I could do what?"

"Think." You try to cheer him up, but it doesn't seem to work. You both keep doing that to each other tonight.

Instead, Javi huffs out a fake laugh through his nose and downs the rest of the amber liquid. His eyebrows flash quickly, showing hints of regret, "You're tellin' me."

"Hey," your say lowly, eyes softening at the signs of his guilt. It feels different from your husband's accusatory behaviour.

It makes you feel like Javi actually cared that he hurt you, or at least hurt his friend. You can see him run his tongue atop of his teeth through his lips when he looks at you. It makes his jaw jut out, strong and chiseled, and you fail at averting your gaze.

"You didn't know that I didn't know. It's not your fault. For either party." You reach out to touch the top of Javi's hand in a friendly manner, and you catch a glimpse of your wedding ring.

A twinge of guilt hits your gut, and you pull away from the warmth as soon as you land.

"You really didn't know?" Javi peers over to you before finding eyes of the bartender, holding up the number 'two' with his fingers.

"Not only did I not know, he insisted on knowing every person that I've ever slept with, where they live, and how many times. Yes you heard that correctly," you nod a thank you to both the bartender and Javi before taking your drink.

Whiskey's not typically your first choice, but it's like he knew you needed something stronger. It's not a typical night.

The alcohol feels good on your tongue, as if it washed away what you just said.

You conveniently leave out what your husband threw at you about Peña before you left. Tonight was awkward enough already.

"Mierda, what a fucking idiot." Javi snickers in disbelief, shaking his head.

"Yeah, I think you taught him some interrogation skills you didn't warn me about." You don't mean for that to come off so flirty, but you see Javier's face change minisculely and it makes your thighs to squeeze together.

"Didn't know I had to look out for you, cariño," he says, charm dripping from every syllable. He offers you a cigarette and it's hilarious, really – him handing this to you after telling him time and time again not to do it in your house.

Even more hilarious that you take it from him. He seems a little surprised by that.

You press the stick between your teeth when Javi has his lighter ready. Pour your stare into his as he starts your cigarette. Allow the inhale to sting your lungs.

You're very composed about it all, really. Really.

Exhaling the air from the side of your mouth, away from his face, you shrug slightly. "I guess you know now." Your words not making complete sense as you dizzy from nicotine, alcohol, and deception.

"Two women...," you trail off, focusing on the neon lights of the bar that create reflections on the shiny, hardwood floor. "Can barely satisfy one." You weren't saying it to chide Julian, you mostly said to to yourself, but of course nothing goes unnoticed with Peña, and he chokes a laugh.

It feels nice to hear a light sound in the midst of something so heavy that you can't help but partake in it, too. The two of you chuckling and you shake your head, taking another drag of the cigarette.

"Well, here's to the ones who can," Javi lifts his glass, and you do the same, just barely picking up what he's hinting while you down the rest of drink. Head swimming now.

The two of you sit in conversation as the piles of people in your town fill seats for a good ten minutes. Most of them know the both of you, and that keeps you on track. You abandon the butt of your cigarette in an ashtray that has at least three of Javi's since he arrived.

Kept on track because the more you drink, the more you realise you want to act on your impulses. Want to go against the things you were keeping yourself from thinking. To make some of those dreams come true.

"You know what your fuckin' problem is?" Javi starts, and it makes your blood boil. Breaks you out of your reverie.

"Maybe start that sentence off differently."

"No," he's quick to reply. So quick you don't notice you fold your own argument. "You're too uptight, that's your problem." he shrugs casually and you shove his shoulder lightly.

"Making it worse, Peña."

Javi brings his hand up to tap his index and middle finger at to the side of your head lightly.

"You're operating too much from here," his arm sweeps down, those two same fingers brushing against your panties from underneath your skirt. You jump back in your seat, gasping in response.

"Need to operate from here."

And there it is. It would seem out of place if it were anyone else but Javier Fucking Peña. Known for debaucherous ways. Known for his vices.

"W-what... what are you doing?" You stare wide, not quite sure you even felt what you did. It happened so fast that when you look around, no one saw a thing.

It wasn't as much of a record-scratch stop to them as it was to you.

You notice that you don't tell him to stop. And so does he.

"Not saying it's me who should do that for you," finishing off his statements and drink Javi stands up, slipping on his leather jacket. "I'm saying I could." Stepping closer, he bends down to catch your ear. Goosebumps litter your skin as he whispers: "Could make you forget all about tonight."

And you very much would like to forget all about tonight.

It's only when you stand do you notice how drunk you are. Not completely wasted, but not sober enough to make decisions with your brain. Exactly how Javi wants you. The walk to Javi's apartment is remembered in jolly splices.

---

Your mouth greets the shoulder of Javi's jacket playfully while he unlocks his door. You detect his aftershave in mix with the cigarettes, alcohol, and leather.

A whine escapes you and slick gathers in your panties, even more from the bar if that were possible. Especially when your noises and eagerness pull a baritone laugh from him, "Tranquilo, tigre."

He says that, but as soon as you've crossed the threshold of his door he has you against the other side of it. Fingers playing in your hair. Ever the gentleman, sliding off your jacket to put it... on the ground. Great. You like that jacket!

But you're just as careful and kind to his things as you tug on his belt. Your fingers playing with the brown leather and metal and finally, finally your mouths touch.

A sweet moan, high in octave and breathy, eases out of your throat and it's met with the gravel of his groan in the pit of his own. He feels and tastes nothing like your husband which makes it much easier to forget him.

Truthfully, he hadn't been in your mind since fresh air hit your face on the walk to Javi's.

Smoke, alcohol, and the faint likeness of gum moves over your tongue while your hands multitask in untucking his shirt from his jeans.

"That fuckin' easy?" He quips, but his breath as shaky as yours. Large hands palming the smushed shape of your breasts from the modest top, and it produces a whimper in the middle of your panting.

"It's that fucking easy, Peña. Could've been doing this a long fuckin' time, now." Your hands eclipse his, pushing them further into your tits in effort to obscenely massage them.

This stirs a groan from his lips. In awe of how in control you are like this. How it's different from the woman allowing her requests to be denied in her own home.

Javi disobeyed you on purpose at your house earlier, so maybe you could get it through your thick fucking skull that this is what you really needed.

To watch your desires bubble to the surface, and moreover to let them have space here. He wants you to act on them.

Taking your chin between his fingers, he rolls over the bone. Moustache twitching in a smirk, "Javi, baby."

To say you're wet now is an understatement. Your clit tingles with anticipation, thighs shaking without even being touched.

"Javi," you say it back to him, but it comes out more like a moan. A catalyst for a messy kiss, all tongue and teeth and brushing of his facial hair against the top of your lips while he towers above you. Palm flat against the door above your head.

Somewhere between that and undoing each button on his shirt, you end up in the kitchen – bent over the island. Pouting at not getting the chance to see him shirtless fully.

You shiver against the granite, claw at the edges of furniture for something to land on. To find purchase. A cheek is pinned against the cool texture and you choke a breath the second you feel air flow against your ass. Your skirt riding up just for Javi to view.

"Motherfucker," you hear Javi behind you. The tone amused, saturated in desire. That's when you get your first taste of relief.

The edge of his index finger runs between your legs, rubbing the obvious wet spot of your panties. Your folds, even through the fabric, wrap around the length of his finger from how deeply he's pressing against you.

It flicks a flame in the pit of your stomach and causes more hunger than relief. Your pores open from how hot it's making you.

"You get this wet for him?" Javi's simple question evokes a mewl you've never heard come from yourself. Your hips lift back and roll in need.

"No... no. J-just you, Javi. Just you."

"Just me," he repeats, head tipping to the side as he examines you.

How easy it is for you to handover claim of your cunt. It's instantaneous, him pulling your undies down. Wasting no more time in what the two of you came here to do.

The pad of his thumb collects your slick between your folds. From the top of your hole all the way to your clit at the bottom from how you're positioned, and you bite your lip hard. Cheeks flushed while your ass peeks out from your skirt.

"Is that because this is mine?"

You confidently say Julian has never talked to you like this. You don't think you've ever been addressed like this in your life.

Never been made to feel special in this way, or that your body was someone's because they wanted you. Not because they wanted to have some icky claim of you.

Even more, you don't feel guilty. Not yet, anyway. There's no time for it. No time to pretend from what you've wanted from the very moment this man, whose warmth now radiates behind you, entered the picture.

"It's yours," you say in a rush as your torso drapes and digs into the side Javi's kitchen island. Makes you think you'd say this even in a sober state. "It's all yours, Javi!"

"What's mine?" He's deliberate and torturous, and his voice alone could make you cum. Your ass pushes back languidly, giving him a good view to curse at under his breath, of your cunt and the velvet of your asshole.

"Me, Javi. I'm yours. Everything." Hot tears swell over your cheeks from how horny and desperate you feel. Like if you don't get him now, you could combust.

"Javi!" you gasp, rutting against the outline of his hard cock in his jeans when he grinds against you without warning.

"Get used to fuckin' saying that," he cautions, and it's cocky, but unlike all the other broken promises you've been given, he's true to his word.

Because he pulls away from you, and you're now his ragdoll – putting you wherever he wants. Hoisting you up on the kitchen island, and it feels cold against the heat pooling at your core.

Javi watches as you bring your bare feet onto the counter, leaning back on your hands, and spread your legs apart like he's being called for dinner. And, fuck, that's exactly what he wants.

Because as soon as you do that, as soon as he sees just how wet and pink you are at the core for him, he can't say no to you.

Not that he was ever planning on it.

"That's it, that's fucking it. Jesus fucking Christ."

You get a good view of Javi's chest all the way down to his stomach and jeans in their disheveled state from this point of view. The bulge of his cock difficult to hide in pants that tight, and you are grateful for it.

You shiver at a mixture of the view of him and the air against your soaked skin.

Your cheeks and lips are painted crimson when he pulls up a seat. He wasn't kidding. He was planning on eating you out, going down on you like you were his own personal meal – as if his eyes devouring you weren't enough.

Your manicured nailed comb his hair back once you get the chance to reach him. Feeling exposed, throbbing by the time you feel the smooth skin of his cheek proceed the inside of your thigh. He takes you in, marveling at the way your cunt pulses and clenches over nothing. Fluid floods right from the source. The way your clit peeks out from its hood, just enough that his teeth could brush against it.

It makes his mouth water, and yours too now that you think about it. Pressing slow, teasing kisses on your thighs you sigh in frustration and alleviation. You can't help but wriggle your hips up towards him. "Please," you whimper, and that makes Javi's eyes grow even darker if you could believe it.

"Please what?"

"Javi, please eat me out!"

He doesn't miss a beat. Using his nose and face to breach your folds apart, to take a mess even further, Javi digs in. His tongue flattens against your slick and your sounds are immediate. It's all too sensitive, too unfamiliar for you to fully register how to feel.

He was right when he called your husband out at the bar. Julian made sure you came, but it was rarely with his mouth. Most of the time you were left rubbing yourself off during sex.

So to have someone, to have Javi – your husband's best fucking friend, between your legs. Servicing you with the sluttiest smile on his face, you can't help but slump back on the counter.

To be under his stare is almost too much. Perfect and needy for you. You slip your eyes shut from the intensity.

"Eyes on me, princesa," Javi rolls off his tongue easily, the tip of it digging right underneath the hood of your clit. Making you gasp, eyes wide, popping back open to meet his gorgeous features.

"Did my pussy like that?" He hums in satisfaction, wrapping his mouth around the all-too sensitized nub before mercilessly sucking it.

This leaves you with your mouth hanging open, your eyes crossing as they roll into the back of your head. The same head that's now reclining in sheer ecstasy.

But Javi's quick to make his point as he goes off of you and replaces his sucking with a harsh slap to your cunt. It makes you spring up, makes you pay attention. You pout and writhe at his power over you.

"I said fucking eyes on me. Don't you dare think about anyone else."

"I-I," you try, you really try to say something, but you can't. It feels too good, and you're too drunk to understand you can't use your words right now.

So you comply, watch him as best as you can. Your mouth split open, eyebrows knit together. And he's kind in the way he goes right back – sucking on your clit like it's his fucking job.

Like he hasn't eaten in weeks, and you're sitting at his kitchen counter, on display.

Not using your brain to think, but using your pussy.

"JustyouJavi," you manage. It's slurred, but you manage it because while he's sucking on your nerves, he's rolling the edge of his tongue against it too. Methodical circles, a tempo to die for. Doesn't switch it up, or make awkward transitions. It's just right.

It's inevitable, screaming his name. Feeling your toes curl, the heels of your feet grind into Javi's shoulders. Damn near pornographic in the way you keen your mantra of: yeah, yeah, yeah. The ache explodes into an uncontrollable fit of passion as you gush all over Javi's mouth.

But as he pulls back, you see that it's not just his mouth that's coated. His cheeks, chin, nose. You're spilling down his neck. And he smiles at you like a blood-soaked lion polishing off its prey.

"I know what you can do, princesa," the sentence has far too many words for you to understand what's happening during your comedown, so that's why it happens as a surprise when you feel Javi's two fingers prod against your cunt.

Standing from his chair now, he pushes it back with his heel. Hand in a loose fist around your neck as he makes you watch what he's doing to you. "Don't fucking blink," he grits, and it makes you want him to tighten his grip. To be possessive while he fucks you.

Your head is slightly angled down while he starts. Eyes looking up, mouth wet but not as wet as Javi's and it makes you come apart to watch his skin glisten still from you. Index and middle fingers press inside your wet hole. His wet hole.

"Fuck!" You exclaim, slipping your top lip above the bottom, you open easily for him to plunge deeper, his fingers curling up with no trouble at all in finding that spongy spot of pleasure right at the tips of them. Your eyes gloss from how overwhelming it feels, the repetitions.

"You can squirt for me, baby." His echoes have you in a trance, but that request makes you nervous. "I've... I don't know how...," you manage the words and he massages your insides in a way that makes you discern you're being primed for something.

"You can do it," Javi leans down, and the encouragement makes your mind reel at how simple words can create such an affect on you.

"Pull my cock out and slip those pretty lips around it, hermosa. You'll forget about anything else."

A part of you isn't ready. To see his cock would mean that things were progressing, and if they were in a standstill you could soak up this moment for longer. But the way you can hear your cunt slosh in between thrusts has you curious if he actually could make you do this.

You look down first. See the bulge more prominent and close in his boxers from his unbuttoned jeans. Eager to break out, you pull the fabric down enough to send the leaking head of his cock to slap against his abdomen before it springs out in front of you to tease.

"Holy fuck," the moment before the freefall, your body becomes alert of the sheer size of him. It was even better than the dreams of you getting railed by him from behind.

You can't help but take a moment to appreciate this. To brush your face sluttily against the warmth of his cock. Your lips teasing him until the precum lands on your tongue and your jaw instantly burns from how sore it is to be open like that.

Saliva falls on your shirt, not yet found the time to take it off.

He tasted heavenly, your hand cups his balls while his moves from your throat to the back of your head.

And it's delicious to watch his face. The way his jaw relaxed open before grinding it back shut, exhaling sharply through his nose. Javi tests your gag reflexes then, gripping the back of your head and sending the shaft of his cock down your throat.

"Mierda," he falters in keeping both rhythms from how hot your wet mouth is. "Knew you could handle my cock, baby, but fuck."

Between the sounds of you gargling him and the squelching of your pussy he is relentless in using, your body is distracted and slack enough for him to pull out of you.

"Ay dios mio, bebita. That's fucking it, there you go." The way he's nodding, proud and spasming in your mouth has you cumming again. This this time clear liquid sprays from you when he tugs his skilled fingers from you and you vibrate such moans from Javi's cock he has to pull out to stop himself from cumming, too.

A wail replaces your moans as the sound of your voice is more prominent in the space. "Javi!" You can't help that you're crying obscenely now, tears flowing from the intensity and the treatment he'd been giving your throat. Mascara running down your cheeks.

---

"Good fucking girl, bonita." You don't realise it straight away from you cum-drunken stooper, but he's picked you up now. Showing you how strong his lean frame is by carrying you to his bed. Tossing you onto the mattress like it's nothing.

"All of this off. Now." Yes, sir. You bob your head yes frantically, knowing how fucked you must look. Mascara running, your panties... somewhere. Your skirt soaked from a new trick Javi just taught you.

You catch a glimpse of the man who did this to you, equally a mess. His hair in all directions, neck red as beads of sweat tempt his broad shoulders, and fuck, he was naked now. You don't mean to, but you drool – this time without a cock in your mouth – too fucked to notice, or care.

"Take a fuckin' picture, baby." Javi softens his knees to curve down at your ear, "Off. Last warning."

You begin to wonder what he would do if you didn't do as he said.

"And if I don't?" You challenge, a lascivious grin crosses your face and you raise a brow.

Mistake. Big mistake.

Because that makes Javi's grin fade. Ripples a new sense of foreboding into the air when he takes your skirt off just as easily and swiftly as he did your undies, but the skirt isn't unzipped so it bursts from the force and you yelp at the sensation.

"Javi, you broke my skirt!" You whine. Naked from the waist down he ogles you before tutting his teeth sarcastically.

"It really bothers me, hermosa," Your shirt is slung overhead and abandoned somewhere on the floor.

"Good girls don't talk back."

You can tell he's drinking you in from the moment he stands back, but he's pulling away more and more until you don't feel his warmth anymore and you realise the error you've made.

"W-wait... come-come back!" Your words dejected, giving him doe eyes as he mimics them way better than you could.

"Bad girls get punished. Rub your clit, get yourself off." It drives a pathetic sound from your mouth before you plead to him.

"Please, no. Please – Javi, Javi please. I'll be good. Please, Javi!" Sitting up, you beg him, undo the sheer bra so your tits pop out from it. Both of you bare in his bedroom.

You can see that makes his cock undoubtedly ache.

"Oh, querida. You're gonna have to do better than that." Arms crossed, he watches as you part your sticky legs, exposing your folds to him again and he hums in approval.

"Let me see how you do it."

You're so deep in it with him, it feels like you've been doing this regularly. How he knows your body, helps you discover little things you didn't even know you were into.

It relieves you to let out wanton moans, your fingers spanning your slick, opening yourself up on cue. Fingers roll, pinch, glide your clit in a hypnotic motion.

It sends you close to the edge, but you can't quite find it with the prospect of Javi inside you.

You keep staring at his cock.

The way precum collects at the head, the girth of him. You could only imagine how deep he would be. Unsure if you could take him all.

"I need you, Javi. Javi, please. Please give me your cock. I'm sorry, I wanna be your good girl!" Torture rocks your throat, and right before you force a dull orgasm from yourself Javi takes your wrist, pushing it away from your core.

"We have to use a condom, baby." It's his way of telling you yes, and you sit up zealously, understanding and willing to do whatever it takes.

Because in reality, he's right, and that almost causes you to stop. Like those dreams you have where you wake up and instantly flock to your husband. Overcompensating.

But this wasn't one of those dreams, and you wanted this so badly it stung.

Javi goes to his nightstand, slicking lube on his cock before sheathing it in the rubber protectant. You certainly don't feel upset that you have to use it, but it leaves you curious what his skin feels like slipped inside of you.

Already coveting his presence before it even began.

But that's the thing, there's no slipping here. When he comes around to make sure you're both lubricated enough for the barrier, you see just how fat his cock is as it bulges from the condom.

Your legs unfurl, chin lining forward as you watch him. Javi keeps you on your back for now, draping your legs over his shoulders. No, he doesn't slide inside of you, he stretches you to such completion your body pulses repeatedly, coming completely undone.

It almost feels too much at first, this position – as deep as it was, but the way you're groaning has you both believing you can take it. Just in time for your sex to push him out of you.

Your muscles all too tight, beginning to worry he's too big.

But that doesn't stop you.

"Mierda, you need it that fucking bad, bebita?" His words make you weak. Because immediately you go between your legs, inviting him back into the innermost part of you without him needing to do it himself.

Javi's lips crash against yours, taking time in burying himself all the way to the hilt. But he doesn't move a muscle.

He stays there, admiring above you. The way your mouth parts, nipples becoming alive at the sensation. "Eres hermosa," more of a mumble, his lips brush and decorate the inside of your calves. The tip of his nose slightly bending against the skin.

It starts to become unbearable, your hips shifting up, but you find it is working. That your muscles relax and are able to take. "I can take it," you incline, not noticing you're heaving shallow breaths until the words leave you in pieces.

"Can you?" Javi asks condescending, thumbprint teasing the split of your clit, rasping at the way you convulse your whole body from contact.

He can't take it anymore, your hold is too strong over him. Javi, compelled to fuck you, drives his cock in, proprietorial in its approach.

You're almost oversensitive, unsure of the statement you just announced because you find yourself swallowing hard, your throat dry. Fingernails claw at his forearms as his large paws grip your waist for leverage. Your pelvis bucking up because like his fingers before, his length is hitting your g-spot and it's too much – you have to screw your eyes.

But Javi doesn't reprimand you for it this time. Instead he hovers over you, sending your ass off of the bed and him deeper than ever before. Right against your cervix now. Causing your mandible to unhinge, pitiful sounds expel your lungs. It's just too good.

"You can take it, baby," Lustful words right there at your ear, you beg in way that makes you want more.

You stroke his hair, tugging the strands – scratching his scalp. His body mercilessly colliding with yours. All sweat and skin, balls eager to tap against the curve of your ass, and all of those sounds fill the room. The sounds of your sex.

"Javi, please. Tell me." It's magic, he doesn't hold it against you that you're not being completely direct. He's understanding, and wants this for you again. The gears connecting that you need to be talked and fucked through it.

"Tell you what, cariño? How I want you to cum for me?" His glistening covered brow presses against yours, hairs stick to both of your foreheads. "How I make this pussy feel so perfect you have to explain why you're limping tomorrow?"

Fuck, you're a mewling, writhing mess.

"Let go for me, ángel," his dark, pleading eyes invite you to jump over the edge, "That's it. That's fucking it, baby. Cum for me."

Your skin trembles like a live wire. He's pulling another orgasm out of you and you don't even know where it's coming from or how he could get you to do it again. But you are. It shows up in your fingers curling, your thighs fluttering until streams of your sex leak from around his cock in your climax.

You're speechless. Moans come from you, yes, but you're so fucked out there's no words that could be put together to describe how fucked you really are.

Your legs fall on either side of Javi's waist, and there's a moment of cognition as your hand reaches to touch Javi's face. "You are so handsome," it slips out before you can stop it, but you don't want it to. Your thumb finds the divot at his bottom lip. Recall the way he tastes of you now. The tops of your fingers stroke his clean shaven cheek.

A face so hauntingly beautiful for a human up to no good. You knew snippets of his past, but his pout nudging against your palm tells you more than any story. Lets you know exactly who he is. You knew the truth.

"Get on your back, honey." You encourage, coaxing his cock out of you – still hard and dying for release.

Surprisingly, he does what he's told, unable to stop himself from kissing your cheek and you swallow down words.

No need to complicate things further.

So you climb on top of him instead. "Shit, cariño. Look at you." That makes you blush, his warm and strong palm splays on top of your breast to brush a digit over your nipple and you shiver. Tentatively, you take him back in and make an oomph sound. He somehow feels deeper like this.

You're intentional in the roll of your hips, but the pace is far too slow for Javi. He needs you, needs the chase of something. "Let me," he grits, pulling your chest onto his and pins your arms behind you in his own bear hug.

The way he digs his heels into the mattress to fuck you, to use you to get himself off is borderline degrading but his quiet praises against your skin has you lit up again in ways you don't anticipate. He slaps your ass hard enough to leave a mark before petting where you connect. This leaves your sticky sweetness to cover his lap in no time.

"Hermosa, h-hermosa," his voice staggers at the shell of your ear, hips erratic while it feels like he's fucking you into oblivion. "So fucking good for my cock, pretty girl."

You have orgasmed so many times now it feels automatic when it happens again, but this time you take note of his arms tightening around you. A hand in your hair. "Just like that, just– fuck. Take it." It almost sounds like a resignation, but his waist pounds you both into another wave of pleasure until he emptied inside of you, filling the condom.

You both stay still. Spent. Relaxed. Eyes bleary, the two of you collapse into assuage.

A pile of shuddering, panting limbs tangle together in the wake of something devious and beautiful.

"Pretty, pretty girl." You hear him say into the top of your head. The hint of affection aches at your heart.

It's then you become acutely aware of how tight your wedding band feels around your ring finger.

---

Javi lights a cigarette in the middle of your afterglow, and it's intimate, him sharing it with you. You hold it, sobriety taking your head, and it frightens you when you don't pull away from him as you begin to think more clearly.

In fact, you roll onto your stomach. Body half-slung onto his, your tits pushed together perfectly as you sit up your elbows.

Taking the cigarette between your lips, you inhale, leaning to him as you push the smoke to billow into his mouth. He exhales the rest through his nose and your tongue tastes the plush lips in front of you because, fuck, it might be the last time you can.

"What do we do?" You ask after a while. It's quiet, and you give the stick back to him by dangling it between his lips.

"I was gonna ask you the same thing." His words muffled by it, he takes a drag before leaving it to burn between his fingers. He puffs the smoke away from you. "You stay with him, bebita. You work it out. And when you need to be fucked, you call me. When he's being a cabrón, you call me. I'll make you forget about him."

Your survey the curtains in his room, the blue glow of dawn tempting to bring another day forward. You don't like his idea, but that doesn't make it wrong.

"You mean you don't want to run away together?" You joke, your eyes conveying, no really it's a joke. I swear. And he runs his fingers across your cheek to pinch it lightly, lips pressing together when he shakes his head 'no'.

"You know we can't do that."

The words bring Julian back to life. Shows his existence in a way that doesn't make you want to push him away. Through the love Javi has for him.

Despite it all, love. A common goal the two of you have for the man who is probably worried sick over you.

Just before guilt tempts to wrap its vengeful claws around your throat, Javi stops it in its tracks.

"You took what you wanted. That's all."

You nod compliantly, not willing to argue in order to savour the moment. Your head brushes against his chest and you close your eyes. If only to capture this feeling a little while longer.

You allow his words to integrate, and swallow down the antagonist of his statement: that there was more you wanted. You were certain the chase of this, the irrevocable quench from throes you shared with Javier, would not just die down.

Terrible that you didn't want it to. You would take what you wanted.

#narcos fic #javier peña #javier peña smut #narcos #javier peña x f!reader #pedro pascal #javier peña fic #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x afab!reader #narcos smut #hbf #hbf!javi #husband's best friend #brat tamer!javi #by bee

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wheresarizona · 8 months

Text

Learning to Live Part 23

summary: Javier is living the fucking dream and has never been happier with the woman he planned to marry—until the mistakes of his past are brought to light, and his world comes crashing down.

rating: E (18+! Age gap (about ten years), Soft Javier Peña, Protective Javier Peña, Angry Javier Peña, explicit smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, oral sex (m receiving), masturbating (f), deepthroating, spanking, dirty talk (he talks you through touching yourself), praise kink, breeding kink, spit mention, mentions of assplay, canon typical violence (Javier punches someone), angst, Chucho being the best dad, Javier being cute with baby animals, Javier saying very romantic things during sex)

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader

word count: 12.1k+

a/n: I’m just going to say I’m sorry. This will be part 1 of 2 for the Colombia arc. This chapter is all in Javi’s POV, and the next will be in reader’s. Thank you to @juletheghoul for betaing!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

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The fifth of November landed on a Thursday this year, and the temperatures were finally beginning to come down—just not enough for Javier to turn off the air conditioning in his truck or wear his suit jacket on his drive, the navy blue garment hanging over the back of the middle seat with his burgundy-colored tie.

The news radio station was a low chatter while he had his left palm gripping the steering wheel, the other holding up his Nokia cellphone to his ear, waiting for the other person to pick up.

Ring.

“Murphy,” his old partner, Steve, answered.

“Hey, it’s me.”

“Hey, Jav—it’s earlier than you usually call. Are you off work already?” For the other man, it was a little after five o’clock his time, and from the sound of it, he was on the road heading home to his wife and kids.

Javier’s hand squeezed so tightly on the wheel it made the leather creak at imagining getting to do the same, his heart picking up in pace and a smile curling up on his lips that someday he would.

On Thursdays, he called Steve when he got off work—he did it when he worked for his dad, talking to his best friend while having a cold beer in the kitchen or cooling off from the hot day on the couch in the living room, always checking up on how Steve, Connie, and their three kids were doing. Once he started dating the woman who’d be his wife, the phone calls started taking place on his drive from the ranch to her apartment, then from his job at the Sheriff’s office to their shared apartment.

“Yeah,” he answered. “I had something to do and couldn’t wait to get the fuck out of there. I spent my whole fucking day prepping for that stupid fucking meeting tomorrow.”

The one with the DEA.

The one with the DEA that he didn’t want to have.

Communication with them over the phone was fine because it was easy to get out of the calls—feigning he had meetings to attend, or another call coming through from his boss, or he just didn’t answer and let it go to voicemail since he recognized the numbers.

And maybe there might have been a time or three when he just hung up on them simply out of annoyance.

But tomorrow was in person, and he had no choice except to sit through the asshole of an agent questioning every little fucking thing about the busts the narcotics unit made and having Javier try to explain why they still hadn’t found out how the drugs were getting smuggled into their region. He didn’t understand why he was getting grilled about it when there were multiple agencies in the area, including the fucking DEA, trying to figure it out. He knew this meeting would put the irritating shit he sat through as attaché in Colombia to shame.

“I still can’t believe he’s asking so many goddamn questions,” Steve replied. “You’ve been handing him busts on a silver platter, and if I were him, I’d be thanking you, not giving you so much shit.”

Javier sighed. “Yeah, you’d fucking think. Why does this guy even give a fuck about me?”

He could hear the smile in his friend’s voice. “Like I told you the first time you called about this asshole: it's his first big assignment, and The Javier-fuckin’-Peña is one of his contacts—” Javier scoffed. “He’s just trying too fucking hard and is jealous of all the arrests you’ve made. Plus, you work for a law enforcement agency, Javi. The DEA has relationships with law enforcement agencies, and yours is smack dab on the border of a country with a history of smuggling, so you’re gonna be popular whether you like it or not.”

“I fuckin’ hate it,” he grumbled.

Steve chuckled. “I know, but suck it up, and tomorrow, scare the kid shitless with that mean ol’ glare of yours so he’ll leave you the fuck alone.”

His eyebrows rose, nodding his head.

“That’s definitely an idea...”

His friend laughed.

“I’m serious,” Javier said. “He wouldn’t take the fucking hint when I hung up on him. I could just… scare him a little.” Frowning, he whispered, “Mi Cielito can’t know.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Steve chuckled. “Things still good with you guys?”

The thought of her had him going soft, picturing her perfectly in his mind.

He smiled. “Things are going so fucking good.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Jav. She seems like a great girl.”

Taking a deep breath, he slowly let it out. “She’s fucking amazing, man—perfect, beautiful, wonderful. I love her so much and can’t wait to marry her.”

“Then propose to her already.” That made Javier frown. “You’ve known for months now that she’s the one, and you’re holding off, for what? A future date, when you can just do what you really wanna fucking do and marry her whenever you want. You’re not beholden to that date, Javi. Do what makes you happy.”

“When did you become a fucking motivational speaker?”

“When I became a dad—gotta give fatherly advice and pep talks. When you have a kid, you’ll become one, too.”

That made him smile again, thinking of his conversations with his father and how the older man always had wisdom to bestow upon him or knew exactly what to say. It was the same with his mom, almost as if once you became a parent, a plethora of knowledge was imparted on you to pass on to your child when, in actuality, it was just your life experience you were using to make sure your kid succeeded in life as best they could.

“I guess I will,” he replied. “Speaking of kids. How are mis sobrinos (niece and nephews)?”

The Murphys had three children.

Olivia was their eldest, who they adopted as a baby nine years ago in Colombia while Steve was working down there. Steve Jr., or Stevie, was three and their only biological child. Nathaniel, Nate for short, was just adopted the prior year and had turned one not too long ago.

Their kids (who could speak) called Javier ‘tío Javi,’ and he loved them all like they were his blood, sending presents on every birthday and Christmas that he double-checked with Connie they’d enjoy. Before the Thursday phone calls, it was a random day of the week calls when Javier had time while in the middle of trying to take down the Cali cartel, and they were a nice reprieve from the stress, especially when Olivia excitedly told him about her school day.

He spent a lot of time with them when he first got back to the States and even got to meet their new baby, but it’s been months since his last visit.

“They’re good. Pretty sure Olivia and Stevie are still on sugar highs from all the candy they got on Halloween.” That was the previous Sunday.

“What’d they dress up as?”

“Olivia was some princess from a cartoon movie with a beast, and she wore a pretty yellow dress—”

“Belle,” he interrupted. “She was Belle from Beauty and the Beast.”

“Yeah! That’s it. Wait. Why do you know that?”

“Lucky guess—what were Stevie and Nate?”

“Stevie was some blue spotted dog, and Nate was a lion.”

Javier was frowning.

He never celebrated Halloween growing up since Día de Los Muertos (Day of the Dead) overshadowed it, but if it was something his future wife wanted to do with their kids, he’d like them to have some kind of theme for their costumes… If he could get them to.

“I can’t wait to see the pictures,” he said, which was true. He kept all of the letters Connie sent with photos of their family while he’d been in Colombia and after he returned home. His girlfriend suggested putting them in an album after he’d taken her to the ranch and pulled out the small box containing the collection—so they got one that now lived on the bookshelf in their living room, hanging some of the pictures on their walls.

“Bring your girlfriend over here for Thanksgiving. We’d love to have you both.”

“Thanks for the offer, but we’ve got plans with my family.”

All his family members who lived in Laredo were getting together at his tía María’s, who had the biggest house, a good-sized patio space, and backyard to accommodate the dozens of adults and children who’d be in attendance to eat. He and Cielito would be spending the night before and morning of making pies and side dishes at the request of his three tías.

“Alright. But remember, our door is always open, and we’re dying to meet the woman that’s gonna make an honest man out of you.”

He snorted.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. We’re thinking sometime next month.”

“Any time is fine.”

“You want us to visit that bad?”

“Since the moment she found out you had a girlfriend, Connie has been on my ass about getting you to bring her here. For the love of god, Javier, please come visit us so she’ll leave me the fuck alone.”

“I’ll figure something out.”

“Thank you. Any time, Javi.”

“Probably right before my birthday.”

“Any time, just get your ass over here.”

“Will do.”

“I’m home, so I’ll talk to you later.”

“Give Connie and the kids my love.”

“Of course. Tell the future Mrs. Javier Peña we’re all excited to meet her.”

Javier smiled. “I will.”

“Bye, you asshole.”

“Adiós, pendejo (Goodbye, asshole).”

Clicking the end call button, he set the phone in the seat next to him and turned back up the radio, the top news stories being all about the latest midterm elections.

Minutes later, gravel crackled and popped under the truck tires as he drove down the long driveway past his father’s house to the back, parking in the empty spot beside his dad’s rig that, since he’d started driving, had always unofficially been his.

His door squealed when he opened it, his feet hitting the ground as he got out of his seat with his aviators sitting on the bridge of his nose, his phone put back in his pocket—the first few buttons of his white dress shirt were undone, taking a second to roll the sleeves up his forearms to make him more comfortable. Lifting his left wrist, his eyes narrowed to get a better read of the silver watch face, seeing he only had an hour before his future wife would be expecting him home, and by now, his family out here should’ve returned from checking on the herd of cattle; his father would either be in the small office across from the house doing paperwork or shirking his responsibilities elsewhere in the vicinity.

Javier went with his gut on where to find Chucho, the truck door slamming shut, the small rocks crunching under his steps as he made his way around the back of the vehicle heading toward the barns.

Passing the large paddock, all the horses, including his own, Sombra, and his tío’s, Enrique the Asshole, were stretching their legs and roaming around. His attention moved ahead to his primo (cousin) Diego, coming out of the new barn, wheeling a wheelbarrow full of hay his way.

The younger of his uncle’s sons got the Peña genes—brown hair, brown eyes, tan skin. The oldest, Sebastián, had a striking resemblance to his tío but was light-skinned and green-eyed like his Spanish mother. Their baby sister, Alma, and tío Ángel’s pride and joy was a mix of her parents—her mother’s beauty and eyes with her father’s tan skin and brown hair.

A beaming smile appeared on Diego’s face when he spotted Javier.

“¿Qué tal, Javi (What’s up, Javi)?” he asked as he approached. “¿Dónde está tu esposa (Where is your wife)?” he asked, looking around for Cielito and making Javier grin.

“Mi futura esposa está en nuestra casa (My future wife is at home). Estoy aquí para ver a mi papá (I’m here to see my dad). Necesito hablar con él (I need to talk to him).”

“Oh, él está allí en el granero de ganado (Oh, he’s over at the cattle barn),” he said, pointing in the direction with his thumb.

That was just what Javier suspected after something his dad said the previous day.

“Gracias, primo (Thank you, cousin). Tengo prisa (I’m in a hurry). Te veré el domingo en casa de tía María (I will see you Sunday at aunt Maria’s). ¡Adiós (Bye)!”

“¡Hasta luego (See you later)!”

His strides were long as he made his way toward the older barn, its wooden exterior wearing a new coat of bright red paint and the trim snow white. His father was standing at the pen’s fence, his straw cowboy hat shielding the sun’s rays as usual, holding a small plastic bucket in one of his hands, the other feeding carrots to the animals. Javier smiled that his assumption of what Chucho would be doing was correct as he approached, hearing his dad softly cooing words in Spanish.

“Stop spoiling mis hijas (my daughters),” Javier said, getting closer. At the sound of his voice, the two calves came bounding toward him on the other side of the fence, shoving their heads between the metal bars at him. He chuckled, crouching as he gave Daphne and Velma pets, their hair soft under his palms. “Hola, mis preciosas (Hello, my lovelies),” his tone was sweet. “Tan lindas que estan (You two are so cute). ¡Están creciendo tanto (You’re growing so much)! ¿Me extrañaron (Did you miss me)?”

At dinner the night before, Chucho had told them he was planning on bringing the girls in for a long weekend since they weren’t treated like the rest of the herd and didn’t live out on the pastures with them 24/7. His dad sometimes had them stay in the pen at the barn or hang out in his backyard. They were kept more like pets than cattle and spoiled as such.

He could hear his father’s footsteps coming near.

“I will spoil mis nietas bovinas (my bovine granddaughters) as much as I like since you haven’t given me any human ones to spoil… yet,” Chucho replied, holding the bucket toward him.

Javier groaned, this being a constant conversation they were having. “I know, I know, you’re not getting any younger—it’s gonna happen.” He took a couple of long orange carrots and started feeding them to the girls, who were happily munching away. “Like I’ve told you before. There’s just some shit we gotta take care of first, and fuck, we’ll need to buy a house.” The thought of hunting for one sounded like a real pain in the ass, especially with everything they’d want it to have.

“Javi?”

His head tilted up to meet his dad’s eyes. “Yeah?”

“Have you guys thought about building a house?”

Javier’s eyebrows dipped together.

They’d discussed what their future home would need—a big backyard for garden space, a spacious living room, and a good-sized kitchen. They also planned to move into a house around the summer of the following year. If they were to build, though, it would be to their specifications. He could give his future wife the kitchen of her dreams, a big sunroom for her plants, and a soundproofed master suite.

“We haven’t…” he answered slowly. “We’d have to find land, an architect, contractor, whatever fucking else is needed to build a house.”

“The land is taken care of,” Chucho said with a wave of his free hand like it was no big deal.

Javier knew he had to look confused. “What?”

Daphne and Velma had finished eating, and he was back to petting them.

His dad smiled. “I’ve got all this land, Mijo.” He held out his arms. “Be my next-door neighbor, or live up the road. Don’t stress yourselves out over finding the perfect house when you can just build it—and with us living so close together, it’ll be easy for you to bring mis nietos humanos (my human grandchildren) over all the time.”

Javier’s eyebrow arched. “How do you know we’re gonna have more than one kid?”

He hoped they would and wanted as many children with her as she was willing to have.

There was a sad smile on Chucho’s face. “Because you’ve always wanted to be a father, Javi,” he answered, and Javier’s heart clenched hard. “That whole mess all those years ago before you left? You didn’t want to marry her, and I don’t blame you. She told you she was pregnant, and you just wanted to do what was best for your unborn baby—they were your main priority, and you were willing to do anything for them. Yes, you were scared about becoming a dad, but we could see you were excited, too, and how much you loved that child you thought existed.” His dad put a comforting palm on his shoulder. “You were ready to devote yourself to being the best father to them.” Javier’s eyes were watering because it was true he always wanted to be a dad, and he didn’t think anyone knew. “I know her lie hurt you deeply, Mijo, and also gave you relief, but it’s such a good thing you didn’t end up marrying her because look at where you’re at now.” The older man was softly smiling now. “You found the right woman who truly loves you, and your mother would’ve loved—I sure do, and when you hold your child for the first time, you will fall in love with them immediately and want ten more,” he chuckled.

Javier laughed through the tears, taking off his sunglasses to wipe at his eyes with the back of his arm before putting them back on.

“Also,” Chucho continued, “I know you’ll have more than one because the two of you can’t be left alone for more than five minutes—it’s surprising she hasn’t fallen pregnant yet.”

“She has good birth control.”

Too good, in Javier’s opinion.

He started to stand up, involuntarily grunting from the ache in his knees and lower back.

His dad’s eyebrows rose, nodding his head. “Well, that explains things. You were just here yesterday. I wasn’t expecting to see you again until Sunday. Something on your mind, Mijo?”

Therapy had been a fucking godsend, and Javier no longer constantly worried about shit, feeling like he was finally in control of his thoughts and emotions. Still, sometimes, he just wanted to drink a beer with his dad and talk about what was on his mind.

Javier smiled cheekily. “More like someone on my mind.”

Chucho laughed. “She’s always on your mind!”

“Yeah, she is, but, uh—” He scratched at the back of his head. “—I needed to talk to you about something alone…”

The elder Peña sobered up immediately, putting a hand out to squeeze his arm. “Is everything okay, Javi?”

Javier gave him a smile. “Everything’s fucking amazing—especially with her, and that’s why I’m out here…”

His father’s face lit up with a huge grin as the realization dawned on him. “¡No puedo esperar para decírselo a tu mamá (I can’t wait to tell your mom)! Vamos a la casa y me lo puedes contar todo (Let’s go to the house, and you can tell me everything).”

On the drive to their apartment, there was a lot to think about between the meeting the next day and plans for the future. The whole building a house was a great idea that he wanted to run by Cielito to see what she thought about it, then there was the other thing he needed to figure out…

Arriving home at his usual time, it wasn’t a surprise her car was already parked in her spot when he pulled up since she was usually off a little earlier than him. His truck took the space beside hers, towering over her tiny Honda that Javier had to contort his body in order to drive when he took it every weekend to fill the gas tank.

Before leaving the ranch, he washed his hands and hoped his cologne masked any kind of animal smells, not wanting her to know where he’d been—if she happened to ask, he’d tell her the truth of his whereabouts because there was no reason to lie.

Walking to the apartment, his suit jacket and tie were dangling over his arm, the other hand holding his keys that jingled as he unlocked the front door. Once inside, he shut the door and locked it, tossing his ring of keys into the large bowl on the long, narrow console table in the entryway, toeing off his Chelsea boots in front of the shoe rack on the floor beside it.

His body completely relaxed, a long, relieved sigh leaving him at finally being home.

The familiar smell of the apartment calmed him—he was safe here, he was loved.

“Cielito?” he called, turning toward the rest of the room and immediately jumping in his skin at her standing right there in front of him. “Jesus Christ,” Javier breathed, his heart pounding in his chest, pressing his hand over it.

She wore a deep purple oversized t-shirt that had faded and thinned over being washed and worn so many times, her legs bare beneath it.

A laugh sputtered from her lips. “I’m sorry for spooking you,” she said, moving forward to wrap her arms around his middle. He hugged her back with his free arm, a smile turning up on his mouth. “This was supposed to be horny, not scary.”

“How is you scaring the shit out of me supposed to be horny?” he asked, kissing her forehead.

Pulling back, there was a mischievous grin on her face. “Give me your jacket and tie.” He handed both over, watching as she turned to toss them on the couch behind her. When her attention returned to him, she said, “Okay, so you carrying your jacket kinda threw off my groove. Now, pretend you just took off your shoes and are super happy to be home.”

“I did just take off my boots, and I am happy to be home…” he replied with knitted brows.

“Yes, I know, but turn this way—” She made him face the shoes again. “—Okay,” she said, taking steps away from him. He turned his head toward her. “No! Don’t look at me yet!” Her outburst startled him, making him look forward once more.

“Mi amor (my love), what are you doing?” he asked.

“You’ll see, and you’re gonna love it. Trust me.”

“I trust you, Cielito. I trust you more than anyone else.”

And he did.

There wasn’t anyone else he trusted more or with whom he felt comfortable being genuinely vulnerable. Yes, he still hadn’t told her about Colombia, but he just wasn’t ready to open all of the old wounds and muddy her with the blood of all of the awful shit he’d seen and done—honestly, he didn’t want to think about any of it or bring her into that world, he liked keeping her separate from it all.

She was heaven. Colombia had been hell.

So, he was biding his time.

“I know, you big cutie,” she said. “Okay, now turn.”

He was beyond confused and unsure what was going on, but she was excited, so he was more than willing to go along with it, knowing she’d make whatever it was good.

Turning in place toward her, he was met with a look of determination on her face as she came at him quickly, his eyes widening when she grabbed the open collar of his dress shirt, shoving him back against the front door, smashing her mouth against his as she kissed him hard.

Smiling into her lips, one of his arms pulled her close, the other hand going lower to grab a handful of her ass, groaning when he found no underwear.

She was right. He definitely loved this.

Blood rushed to his groin, his cock twitching when she slipped her tongue into his mouth to tangle with his own. Her hand slithered down the tight space of their bodies to rub over his hardening length, making him moan when she nipped at his bottom lip, arousal igniting in his belly.

Her mouth was a hair's breadth away from his as she breathily whispered, “I wanna suck your dick. Can I, Javi? Can I choke on this big cock?” She ended the question by lightly squeezing it in its half-hard state.

“You can do whatever the fuck you want to me,” he answered huskily, feeling her smile when she kissed him.

Both of his hands were now under the hem of her shirt, groping her bare backside.

“You don’t know what you’re offering when you say that,” she murmured into his lips.

“Yes, I do,” came his muffled answer. “Anything. You love my ass as much as I love yours.” He squeezed her asscheeks in his big palms.

The revelation he was into assplay was surprising, to say the least. Now in the right circumstances, he loved when she used her fingers while going down on him, or there was that one time she experimented with her mouth, and he about lost his damn mind.

“I do love your ass and you, but I didn’t bring lube.”

He smiled. “Later then, and I love you, too,” he replied, kissing her harder.

He deepened the kiss, their tongues moving together in a practiced dance while she made sounds in the back of her throat that went straight to his cock, loving how her scent was enveloping him—knowing he’d smell her all over him by the time they were done, it permeating his clothes, his hair, and his skin, hating that he’d have to wash it all away later.

When her lips left his to take a breath, the plush softness of them met his chin, then her teeth lightly nibbled, making him smile while both of her hands went to the front of his pants—his belt clinked as she expertly undid it, popping open the button of his slacks, unzipping them, his dick now completely hard.

“You’ve been on my mind all day,” she said in that sultry tone she knew drove him wild, unable to keep from giving her a quick kiss.

“What were you thinking about, Cielito?”

She looked up at him under her lashes, crookedly smiling.

“Sucking this beautiful dick,” she answered, stroking it over his pants, the sensation making his breath hitch in his throat.

His tongue wet his bottom lip, wanting nothing more than her mouth on him. “What else, baby?”

“Well, we haven’t fooled around since Monday—“ Fuck, had it really been since he tied up her hands and fucked her in the kitchen? “—because you had to work late Tuesday, and we went to your dad’s last night.” Her free hand went up his chest. “So I’m really in the mood for you to make me feel it tomorrow.” She bit her lower lip.

“I can do that,” he replied. He covered her hand on his cock with his own. “This is yours, and you can have it any fucking way you want it, mi amor (my love).”

Her mouth collided with his, saying as she kissed him, “God, you’re so hot—I love you so fucking much.”

It made him smile. “I love you, too.”

One last kiss, and she was crouching in front of him, yanking the navy blue material down his thighs, leaving his dick confined by his white boxer briefs. She rubbed him over them, his chin dropping to watch as she mouthed at his hard length over the cotton, the warmth of her mouth causing his own to go slack and his skin to heat.

Her hands went up his thighs, the color of her neatly trimmed nails catching his attention.

His words came out rougher and deeper, a smile on his lips as he picked up her hand and inspected it, “You’re wearing the nail polish I picked out.” It was bright cherry red, and he’d chosen it the prior day at the drugstore before they’d gone out to the ranch, the cheesy name on the cap of the bottle reading, ‘Not Red-y for Bed.’ “It looks fucking gorgeous on you, baby,” he continued, swiping his thumb over the tops of her fingers.

She grinned up at him. “Thanks. My future husband has excellent taste,” she replied with a wink. “Now stop distracting me from sucking your dick.”

“Yes, mi reina (my queen),” he said, letting her palm go and watching as her beautiful fingers pulled down his underwear, his cock springing free. Moving onto her knees, he was glad they were cushioned by the soft, thick runner rug they’d invested in, her spitting in her palm and taking him in hand, his mouth falling open at the first stroke.

He started working open the buttons of his shirt, keeping his eyes on her as she languidly jerked him, getting glimpses of her red nails when she’d twist on the upstroke, and fuck, they looked good wrapped around his dick.

She took him into her mouth, and Javier forgot how to breathe.

There was only one button left to undo on his dress shirt, but that didn’t matter with her gaze on him, watching as she hummed in enjoyment, taking him further and further into her hot, wet heat. Her other hand slipped between her legs, and his cock twitched that she was touching herself.

“Fuck, hermosa (beautiful),” he rasped, his hand resting on the back of her head. Javier gulped hard at the pleasure. “It feels so fucking good, Cielito—you’re so fucking beautiful playing with your pretty little pussy while my dick is in your mouth. You gonna make yourself come, baby? Can you do that for me? Come all over those gorgeous fingers.”

She moaned while continuing to blow him, doing this swirly thing with her tongue around the tip and on the underside of his cock that had him groaning loudly. His hips were rocking, knowing she was on her way to turning him into an absolute mess.

Her eyes were watching him through her lashes, all heavy-lidded and dark, the arousal evident in her gaze while her lips stretched around his dick and her head bobbed, twirling her tongue around the head on each upstroke. Her hand worked what couldn’t fit, the other moving at the apex of her thighs.

“Are you rubbing your clit?” he roughly asked. “Does it get you off sucking my cock? You like this, don’t you? You like getting yourself off while choking on it.”

That made her moan again, and he could see on her face how much she was enjoying this.

Truth be told, before her, Javier didn’t really care for blow jobs—not that he didn’t like them, he loved them; the problem was he could tell when his partner wasn’t into it, and there was no bigger turn-off than someone doing something they didn’t want to do.

But Cielito was different.

He was pretty fucking sure she had some kind of addiction to sucking his dick with how often she wanted to do it, and the thing was, every, single, time, he could tell she was having the best time—he had never seen someone enjoy blowing him more.

Javier loved it when she wanted to go down on him, her enthusiasm making it incredible.

All of a sudden, her mouth came off him, a string of spit keeping them connected as her eyes closed, and he knew that look on her face. Her free hand left him to pluck at her pebbled nipple through her shirt.

“Are you gonna come for me?” he asked, curling his fist around his wet cock, slowly jacking off as he watched. “You gonna be my good fucking girl and come for me?”

“Yes,” she moaned, nodding. “So close.”

“I was gonna get down there and eat you out—make you come on my fingers and tongue, but I think you’d like it better if I didn’t loosen you up before I got my dick inside you. Isn’t that right, baby?” Her breath stuttered, a sheen of sweat coating her forehead. “It’s been three fucking days, and you want to feel how big I am—how much I stretch you open.” Soft sounds were spilling from her lips that were getting louder. “You’re my dirty fucking girl and want to feel me all day tomorrow while you’re at work.” He could tell she was close. “I bet you’ll want me to fuck you again tonight in bed and tomorrow before work so you’re stuffed full of my come—”

Her body tensed up, coming with a gasp of his name, and he smiled.

“There it is,” he said. “Such a good girl—you did so good for me, mi amor (my love). God, you’re amazing. It’s fucking sexy how hungry you are for my dick.”

Her eyes blinked open, smiling dreamily at him. “Because it’s perfect,” she replied. “And you’re perfect—you make the best noises when I go down on you, and you never try to fuck my face without asking or are ever pushy.” Her eyebrows furrowed. “I honestly don’t think you’ve ever asked me for a BJ, which is shocking.”

He was smiling. “I’ve never needed to, and I wouldn’t.”

Her brow arched. “You wouldn’t ask for a blow job?”

“I only want one if it’s something you want to do—otherwise, I’d rather just fuck or eat your pussy,” he answered with a shrug.

“I am living the fucking dream. Now move your hand; I wanna feel you in my throat.”

He chuckled, doing as she said, and was not at all surprised when her lips wrapped around his cock. She bobbed her head, working him inch by inch into her mouth until she swallowed him down into her throat, taking him all the way to the root, Javier groaning.

Those bright red nails were digging into his thighs, the knot in his belly was beginning to wind tighter, and his cock pulsing in the tight space. Sweat coated his brow, a flush crawling up his chest and neck, his heart pounding in his chest.

Her eyes were on his, tears gathering at the edges, saliva escaping at the sides of her mouth, and he thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“My good fucking girl,” he praised, feeling where he was bulging in her throat. “Such a good fucking girl taking my dick down your throat—god, I love you so much.”

She gurgled around him like she was replying, ‘I love you, too,’ then her head was coming up, sputtering as she coughed.

“You okay?” he asked.

She gave him a thumbs up, finally answering, “Yeah.” Saliva was coating her chin and around her lips while she breathed hard.

His thumb slid along her bottom lip as he smiled. “Hermosa (Beautiful),” he said.

“Messy,” she corrected.

“Still beautiful.”

Playfully, she rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’m not done.”

Not wasting another second, she took the tip back into her mouth, circling her tongue around the sensitive ridges. Javier swallowed thickly, feeling the pleasure build inside him, entranced with her stroking him again, the flash of red as her hand easily glided up and down his spit-slicked shaft. When her other hand started lightly massaging his balls, his cock jerked, a shaky breath leaving his lips.

He didn’t want to come like this.

Quickly, he got the last button on his shirt undone, shrugging it off and tossing it toward the couch, it landing on the floor.

“Baby?” he said, her eyes immediately meeting his while pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses down his shaft.

“Hmm?” She hummed.

“Don’t make me come.”

The power was in her hands.

“You close?” she asked before being fucking mean and dipping her head low to lick at his sack.

“Fuck,” he moaned. His throat bobbed as he thickly swallowed, trying to control his breathing and the tightening in his gut, not wanting to blow his load so soon. There was no other choice but to gently push at her shoulder. “Stop,” he gasped, and she did immediately, hands and mouth coming off him. “Thank you,” he panted, swiping at the sweat on his forehead with his arm. She shuffled back on her knees, looking up at him. “Do you want me to eat your pussy or give you my dick?” he asked. He was fine with either and was pretty sure she was going to choose—

“Dick,” she answered immediately.

He smirked. “Fucking knew it.” His thumbs went into the waistband of his boxer briefs, shoving them and his slacks down to his ankles before peeling off his socks. Groaning, he straightened and held out his hands to her, saying, “Come on, mi futura esposa (my future wife). You deserve better than getting fucked on the floor.”

She accepted his help, Javier grunting as he pulled her up to stand in front of him.

“Fucking on the floor is hot, though,” she pouted.

“Sometimes,” he said, grabbing her hips and turning her the other way. “Most of the time, it just fucks up my back and knees, and I don’t want to deal with that shit tomorrow. Let’s go.” He smacked both of her asscheeks to get her to start moving, earning a giggle as he followed her to the bedroom.

Their first big purchase as a couple was upgrading the queen-sized bed she’d already had to a king. They’d gotten a sturdy frame that Javier tweaked to ensure there’d be no squeaking and a white metal headboard that was arched with thin vertical slats for obvious reasons, precautions made so it wouldn’t bang against the wall—yes, he did spend an entire Saturday morning sex-proofing their new bed for the sake of their elderly next door neighbor who glared at him every time they crossed paths.

Late afternoon sunlight was slipping through the cracks in the closed blinds and illuminating the blue linen curtains covering them in their shared room. The only lights on were both bedside lamps—her watch, a paperback, alarm clock, and a corded telephone accompanying hers; a small framed picture of them kissing with fireworks going off above their heads that his dad took at the town’s Fourth of July event, a book with his extra pair of reading glasses on top of it, and his alarm clock beside his.

His attention was on her ass as she crawled up onto the bed, his knees sinking into the mattress when he followed. Once she was far enough up the bed, he pounced, gripping handfuls of her backside and tackling her to lay flat on her stomach, making her laugh when he sunk his teeth into her plump flesh. It made him smile, placing a loud, smacking kiss over the indents of his teeth before he sat up and helped her flip onto her back, his hips nestling in the space between her thighs.

Their noses were almost touching, his arm beside her head holding him up while his other hand rubbed up and down her belly over her shirt.

“Hi,” he said.

She smiled, sliding her fingers into the hair at the back of his head, making him shiver. “Hi, babe. I love how we get so horny we forget to greet each other.” She quickly pecked him on the lips.

“Or you decide to scare the shit out of me.”

“I really didn’t mean to. I was just trying to channel my inner Javi.”

His eyebrows dipped together.

“What?”

“You know, just showing up and going zero to horny in under thirty seconds. Like Monday, when you stormed into the kitchen and started making out with me? That was so hot. I was trying to be like that.”

He smiled. “You’re cute,” he said, nuzzling her nose. “Don’t sneak up on me next time, and it’ll go better.”

“Noted.” She pulled him in for a kiss, and he happily reciprocated, deepening it quickly with a slide of his tongue along her lip for her to open. His cock was still hard, pressing into her skin, his hand moving up to palm her shirt-covered breast, listening to those sounds he loved coming from her throat while they kissed, and kissed, and kissed.

His lips left hers to catch his breath, moving them along her jaw to nibble at her chin.

“I love you in this shirt,” he said into her skin.

“Thanks,” she panted. “It’s comfy. Now please, fuck me, Javi.”

“Need my dick, Cielito?” He kissed over her pulse point, feeling the steady beat of her heart beneath his lips.

“Yes,” she answered.

That was all the answer he needed, pushing up with a grunt to sit up on his knees while she turned onto her stomach, which required him to help move her legs around him. Her hips rose automatically without his help, presenting her glistening pussy, and that had a shock of arousal hitting his gut at how ready she was for him. His cock throbbed between his legs, wanting to feel her squeeze around him.

One hand smoothed over her ass, spitting on the fingers of the other that he rubbed over her entrance, repeating the action to slick his dick up, notching himself at her drenched hole.

“You ready?” he asked.

Her head was resting on her crossed arms. “Dámelo (Give it to me).”

“Es tuyo, mi reina (It’s yours, my queen),” he replied, pushing in.

His eyes slipped shut, and his mouth went slack as her hot, velvety walls embraced him, smoothly sliding all the way home in one thrust.

“Fuck,” he breathed, it feeling like her tight heat was trying to suck him in deeper.

“God, that’s good,” she moaned.

Pulling out halfway, he pushed easily back in. “Fucking love this pussy—sit up with me.” He tapped her hip.

Her legs were on either side of his, getting her up on her knees to have her back to his chest, his arm going across her front to hold her breast, the other palm gliding down the soft cotton of her shirt to the apex of her thighs.

His pace was slow; there was no hurry, wanting her to really feel him by keeping his cock buried deep inside her, barely thrusting in and out while moving his hips in a circular pattern. He welcomed it when she reached behind to dig her cherry-colored nails into his ass, her other set doing the same to his arm as she softly moaned, the fire in his belly slowly building.

Had he really gone three days without this? Feeling her warmth, the way it rippled through his body, and her softness, having her so close to him, and the connection. He needed to feel more of her. He needed more of her skin on his. He needed it all.

His thrusts didn’t waver as he pressed his lips to the shell of her ear, whispering, “Mi amor (My love)?”

“Yes?” she gasped.

“Do you wanna keep the shirt on?”

Even though he told her constantly how attractive he found her and her body, there were still times when she felt more comfortable wearing a shirt during sex, and he respected that.

“No.”

As soon as the word left her lips, he was tugging it up, her arms going over her head for him to get it off, tossing it to the floor.

Pulling her back, her skin on his felt amazing, languidly moving in her while he kissed along her shoulder and neck and up to bite at her earlobe. His fingers between her legs were rubbing at her swollen clit, his other hand plucking at her hardened nipple, feeling her arousal dripping down his dick.

His lips were back at her ear, panting hot breaths against it as he asked, “Did your needy little pussy miss me, baby? Did it miss being stuffed with my cock or my come?”

“Both,” she moaned.

With the way her cunt was starting to flutter, he knew she was getting close. Their bodies were sticky with sweat, not caring how they stuck together or the wet sounds where they were joined, Javier smiling at hearing the wet suck of his dick moving in and out of her sopping pussy.

The angle was awkward, but he kissed her cheek, and she turned her head to chase his lips, kissing him while he built her up higher and higher, his own orgasm taking shape at the base of his spine.

His mouth went back to press at her shoulders, Javier in heaven.

“I love you so fucking much,” he said through heavy breaths, muffled into her skin. “So fucking much. Eres todo para mí y siempre lo serás (You’re everything to me and always will be). Te daría la luna si pudiera (I would give you the moon if I could). Te daría todas las estrellas del cielo (I would give you every star in the sky).” He started moving a little faster, putting more pressure on her clit, her moans getting louder. “Te mereces todo y más y movería cielos y tierra para dártelo si pudiera (You deserve everything and more and I would move heaven and earth to give it to you if I could). Pero solo soy un hombre así que te estoy dando todo de mí (But I am just a man, so I am giving you all of me). Cada parte de mí te pertenece porque yo soy tuyo y siempre seré tuyo (Every part of me belongs to you because I am yours and I will always be yours).”

Her pussy seized up tight around him as she came with a cry of his name, his fingers gently swirling over her sensitive bundle of nerves to help her ride out the wave.

“So good to me,” he softly said, kissing the side of her neck. “You did so fucking good for me, my good girl—god, I love you.”

It took some seconds for her to speak, her voice sounding rougher than usual. “Javier, why would you say absurdly romantic shit you know is gonna make me cry while you’re balls deep inside me and on the cusp of making me come?”

“I don’t know,” he panted, shrugging. “Felt right. Still got you off, though,” he pointed out.

“Yes, and cry at the same time, which is rude.” She wiped at her eyes.

His hands were rubbing circles on her hips.

“I don’t see that as a bad thing—are you still wanting the special thing you say I’m good at?”

“The Javi special, that you know the name of and refuse to use—” That was true. “—Yes. Pretty please.”

He smacked her thigh. “Hands and knees, baby.”

His cock was still achingly hard inside her when she lowered onto her arms, figuring he could go a bit longer before he’d come. Gripping the flesh of her hips, he moved, watching as he pulled almost all the way out, seeing himself shining in her juices and fucking back into her hard. She loved getting pounded from behind, and he was more than happy to oblige with his dick slickly moving fast in and out of her tight, hot heat, carving out space inside her with every stroke that had her mewling.

A layer of sweat was coating his forehead and chest, feeling a drop slide down his cheek while he grunted in exertion, fucking her how she wanted, her moans of his name spurring him on. His big hands grabbed onto the cheeks of her ass and squeezed them, gripping them to pull her back and fuck her on his cock. One left her, coming back down on the jiggling flesh with a loud smack that had her cunt clenching around him and her crying out in pleasure. He kept up the punishing pace, his heart thudding in his chest, spanking her again in the same spot, then on the other side, feeling her getting wetter.

“You gonna give me one more?” he asked through bared teeth.

Her arms and legs were trembling, and he was pretty sure he could make her come one more time. It looked like she couldn’t hold up her weight anymore, moving onto her forearm, her head resting to the side on it, noticing her other arm had gone under her body to play with her clit.

“Javi?” she gasped his name.

“Yeah?” he answered.

“I want you to come inside me.”

Pleasure was curling and knotting in his gut, and her words ramped it up.

“I will.”

“I wanna feel you come inside me.”

That sentence confused the fuck out of him in his wrecked state, not knowing at all what she meant since he already said he was going to do it.

“I’ll fill you up, baby,” he panted, now focusing on chasing his high, closing his eyes, needing that sweet release more than anything. “I’ll fuck you full of me, stuff you full of my come, and get you preg—” The sentence cut off into a strangled moan as she reached between her legs to cup his sack, the sensation tipping him over the edge, hitting the point of no return. He pushed into her all the way as his balls tightened, and he came, his cock jerking hard, pumping spurts and spurts of his spend inside her. His mind had gone blank, euphoria taking over every molecule in his body, feeling her cunt spasming and tightening around him as she went with him.

When a coherent thought came to him, it was that he needed to lie down—a hiss slipping through his teeth when he pulled out, moving to fall onto the mattress beside her.

The second thing to cross his mind as the cool air in the room felt chillier on his sweat-dampened skin was he missed her warmth—frowning, he sat up with a groan, his heavy-lidded eyes seeing she was sprawled out next to him.

“Lay back down,” she said, turning her head toward him with a little smile and looking just as wrung out as he felt. “I could feel your sad eyes on me.” She yawned, speaking through it, “I just needed a second to be able to move—I was heading your way, baby.”

He didn’t have to be told twice, lying back down and getting comfortable with his head cushioned on a pillow. Seconds later, she was in his space, making herself at home with her body half on top of his, Javier smiling when her fingers slid into his sweat-dampened hair, wrapping his arms around her.

His words were rough. “That was new.”

“Robyn told me about it.” That was her best friend and co-worker. “But I just made it extra horny by feeling them while you came.”

“I liked it.”

“Good.”

She cuddled closer to him, sighing happily as they laid there.

If someone asked him what his favorite thing in the entire world was to do, his answer would be what they were doing right now—not the sex, but the being naked, holding each other in their relaxed, happy states, enjoying the other's company.

This was also when he was most vulnerable physically but mentally, too. All his carefully built walls crumbling, aware that he’d answer any question she asked him and ignoring the one on the tip of his tongue that he could taste the words of.

“Yes,” she said, tilting her head up to kiss under his jaw, and his heart started hammering that maybe he said aloud what he was thinking.

His lips pressed to her forehead. “Yes, what?”

“Just practicing how I’ll answer when you finally ask—I wanna be ready.”

He smiled.

“I do.”

“Huh?”

“Just practicing how I’ll answer when I’m asked if I’ll take you as my wife.”

She sat up to hover her face over his, looking him in the eyes. “That was really fucking smooth.” He smiled. “I love you, Javi, more than anything.” Her lips met his, kissing him tenderly, his hand cradling the back of her head.

They separated after a few seconds. “I love you, too,” he replied.

Her red-nailed fingers pushed the hair off his forehead while she looked at him fondly. “I know you do. Let’s go shower, and then we can make dinner.” She started to get up, moving to the edge of the bed. “Does pasta sound good?” she asked as she stood.

His back protested when he sat up and got out of bed from the opposite side. “Sounds great. We’ve got stuff for salad, too.”

“We do.” She nodded, her head turning to look at him.

“Go start warming up the shower. I’m gonna go grab my clothes from the living room.”

Her mouth turned up in a grin. “What a good, responsible man, cleaning up after his sexcapades. Okay, hurry up!” She started heading for the en suite, and he went to grab the pile he left by the front door, taking out his wallet from his pants pocket and putting it in the bowl on the table, picking up his dress shirt from the floor, grabbing his suit jacket and tie.

He could hear the overhead fan blowing and the water running in the bathroom, light streaming out from the door that was almost all the way closed.

Tossing his clothes on the bed, he kept his pants in his hands as he walked the few steps to his dresser beside the bedroom door, glancing toward the noises over his shoulder before pulling open the top drawer that contained his socks and underwear. His hand went into the pocket of his slacks, pulling out the small white leather ring box, popping it open to see the gold band with a modest-sized diamond in the middle with two smaller ones on each side.

“You don’t know that you’re gonna get to answer that question a lot sooner than planned,” he whispered, “and I can’t wait to see you wearing this.”

“Javi?” she called from the bathroom.

Quickly, he shut the box. “Coming!” He dug into the back of his drawer for the old pair of wool socks he never wore, bundling the ring box inside of them and stashing it away in the depths.

Now, all he had to figure out was when.

Friday, November 6, 11:58 AM

The conference room didn’t have a fucking clock.

He needed a cigarette, his fingers itching for one, thinking he could probably bum a smoke off of someone when this was over. His reading glasses were sitting on the bridge of his nose as he brought up his wrist to read his watch for probably the thirtieth time in the last fifty-eight minutes he’d been in this pointless meeting.

The DEA agent he was currently half-listening to and who has been the bane of his existence since he started this job, had come in on some kind of power trip, thinking he had authority over Javier and the people he worked with—it’s been an ongoing issue and a reason there was animosity between the two men.

It all made sense when he finally put a face to the name of asshole DEA agent Jesse Clemons.

The other man was in his late twenties, if he had to guess—definitely too young for the assignment he’d been given since there was no way he had enough experience, and he was hiding it by being a grade-A dick. In terms of looks, the kid was smaller than him, thinner, shorter, with the face of an average white male, and had the attitude of someone whose parents paid for him to get into an Ivy League school—which made Javier think he had connections that landed him this job since something about the guy screamed ‘nepotism hire.’

Javier put him in his place before they even sat down and made it clear he was the one in charge here—possibly scaring him too much because the kid was stuttering and stammering through the whole meeting.

Glancing at his watch, he saw the hour was finally up.

“Well,” he said, interrupting the agent as he closed the files before him, putting them into a stack. “I’ve got another appointment to get to.” Standing, he took off his glasses, sliding them into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, and picked up the manila folders. “It was nice to meet you in person, and we’ll see how your suggestions play out.” They wouldn’t. “Doors this way.” He held out his arm toward it.

The agent looked relieved it was over, quickly putting his things away in his brown leather briefcase and letting Javier usher him out of the room.

They paused just outside the door.

“Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to meet with me, sir,” Jesse said, holding out his hand that Javier quickly shook.

“Yeah.”

“My, uh—“ He scratched at the back of his neck. “—My nana sends her regards.”

That had Javier’s eyebrows pulling together as he tried to figure out who he could possibly be talking about.

“Your… nana...?”

“Yes, my grandma Noonan. She was a former ambassador in Colombia…”

Javier huffed out a breath—there it was, the reason this kid was hired. His grandma was a real hardass but pretty decent at her job, and with her connections, it’s no wonder her grandson had such an important assignment.

“Yeah, I remember your nana. You give her my best. Thanks for stopping by.”

The younger man nodded, retreating down the hallway.

Javier sure as fuck didn’t miss the DEA and their bullshit, the meeting turning out to be just as irritating as he’d expected it to be. He’d been prepared for the questions and had the files to back up his answers and prove they’d been working their asses off.

The only good thing about this was that the kid would probably leave him alone now, or at the very least only be in contact when necessary, which is what Javier hoped.

Once the agent disappeared around the corner at the end of the hall, he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in, his eyes closing for a moment.

He didn’t actually have another appointment. It was lunchtime for him and the woman he loved, who he needed to talk to in order to calm his nerves.

“Never thought I’d see you again.” That voice hadn’t spoken to him since he uncovered just how corrupt the Colombian government was. His eyes flew open, turning his head toward them.

“Why the fuck am I seeing you, Stechner?” he practically spat out.

Bill Stechner looked balder and his beard longer, standing half a dozen steps from him down the hall. His appearance had Javier’s heart speeding up and jaw clenching, knowing that nothing good would come from this.

The older man walked a little closer as he spoke, holding a file in one hand and the other in his pocket, “I was in the neighborhood on business and heard you were working here. Wanted to stop by and see how my old friend was doing.”

His eyes narrowed.

“We’ve never been friends, and how I’m doing is none of your fucking business.”

“What? I can’t be happy for you?”

Javier’s blood ran cold—what the fuck did he know?

Stechner removed the hand from his pocket to open the folder. “You know,” he continued, glancing down at it. “That girl of yours is too good for you.”

Dread came over him, feeling the heaviness of it in his gut and having to swallow hard because there was a chance he might throw up.

“I know she is,” he answered.

“No, no, I mean she’s really too good for you and is another woman with questionable taste in men. Did you know she graduated top of her class in college?” He didn’t. “She had the pick of any hospital in the country, and she chose Dallas, which, let me tell you, is quite far from her family, but I’m sure you know that.” He did. “Speaking of her family—” Stechner flipped a page. “—talk about notoriety and wealth. I’m honestly surprised you live in that tiny condo with all of the money she has. Looking at this, she should be with a doctor, or a surgeon, hell, even someone from a family as affluent as hers.” An opinion her parents shared. “I’m not seeing why she’d choose a disgraced farmer boy.” His teeth clenched, the sentence repeating over and over in his head, ‘Because she loves me. Because she loves me.’ The other man looked up to meet his eyes. “But you, the only reason you’re with her is the money, right? Because someone like you isn’t the settling down type. You can’t stick to just one woman, and with that kind of cash, you can afford more pussy than you were paying for with Uncle Sam’s money in Colombia.”

What money? What money was he talking about?

The jabs about his sex life were fine; he was used to it, but he was beyond confused at being accused of only dating Cielito for her money since he’d seen her bank statements—they sat at their kitchen table writing checks to pay bills together every month, and balance their checkbooks. Her accounts weren’t anything crazy, and his savings was even bigger than hers from not having to pay for a lot in Colombia. Her job did make more than his, though; that was a fact and understandable with the work she did.

But she wasn’t some millionaire, which was what was being implied.

Maybe he was assuming that since her family had money, she did, too?

Too bad his research didn’t tell him her relationship with her family was strained with them all being a bunch of uptight, snobby dicks and that there was a chance she’d been written out of her parents' wills due to her life choices (dating him)—so, she didn’t have access to their money.

Everything else Stechner said had him taken aback at how he’d managed to tug at Javier’s relationship insecurities—he knew he wasn’t good enough for her, that his career was lacking, his wealth was mediocre, that his past should be a glaring red flag.

But she still chose him despite it all.

Despite it all, she still loved only him.

His face had heated as it pinched in anger at the fucking audacity of this fucker trying to mess with his relationship, rage roiling in his belly that Stechner misused his authority with the CIA to get information on his future wife and invade her privacy.

“I don’t owe you any explanations,” he gritted out. “Leave me and her the fuck alone.”

“Oh, you didn’t know about the money.” The file closed in his hand. “Like how she didn’t know about all you did in Colombia? I could tell I caught her off guard when I brought it up.”

Panic erupted inside him, his eyes widening, papers scattering on the floor when he dropped the folders in his hand to take the strides and grab the other man by his dark green jacket lapels, slamming him into the wall. “What did you tell her?!” The words roared from his throat.

His mind was racing, thinking of all Stechner could’ve told her and knowing without a doubt he’d twist things to make Javier look like a heartless monster—he was so fucking scared he could cry.

It irritated him how calmly the other man spoke. “Well, I couldn’t believe she didn’t know why you weren’t there to catch Escobar with how ‘serious’ you two are and figured it must’ve slipped your mind, so I just told her the truth of how you got a lot of innocent civilians murdered by helping Los Pepes—men, women, children. I also brought a copy of Judy’s interview for her to read as proof.”

This was his worst nightmare.

That interview pinned all of the leaked intelligence to Los Pepes on him when they were also getting it from other high-ranking members of Search Bloc, the police force in Colombia dedicated to taking down drug lords. It made him look responsible for all of the carnage and innocent casualties, including the war that happened between Pablo Escobar and Los Pepes that had the former setting off a bomb at a busy shopping center a week before schools were starting, killing a bunch of kids.

“You’re looking awfully pale, Javier,” Stechner continued. “Do you need to sit down?”

He didn’t have a chance to explain the truth to her.

She was going to leave him over his past mistakes. There was no way she’d want to be with someone who fucked up so badly—he was going to lose her, and his heart felt like it was breaking into a million tiny pieces he’d never be able to put back together.

He was spiraling, his eyes burning with unshed tears as he let go of the man, turning around with his face in his hands, screaming into them FUCK!

Why was this happening to him? Why was Stechner trying to ruin the only good thing in his life? Was this payback for disobeying and taking down the Cali cartel? For revealing the corruption in Colombia? Or was this just for his own fucked up amusement?

His entire world was crumbling. He should’ve told her sooner. She should’ve heard all of this from him and gotten the truth.

She was everything to him, and without her, he was nothing.

He had nothing left to lose if he already lost her, and now he was just angry and fucking tired of people ruining his life. His blood was boiling, rage bubbling up inside him over this vindictive motherfucker who wouldn’t leave him the fuck alone.

His hands fell, and he turned on his heel to face the bastard.

“I should’ve done this a long time ago,” he said.

Stechner smiled. “What’s that?”

His right fist was tightly clenched, and then he swung, hearing and feeling the sickening crunch as it connected with the other man’s face, who yelped in pain.

Javier was numb, shaking out his hand as it flexed at his side while Stechner tried to staunch the bleeding coming from his nostrils, the file he had tucked under his arm.

Javier glared, his tone menacing as he raised a finger, “Leave me and her the fuck alone. If I see you around here again—” He jabbed the other man in the chest. “—I’m getting a fucking restraining order.”

“I could have you arrested for assaulting a government agent.” He sounded nasally.

“And how will the CIA feel about one of their agents using government means to harass a civilian? You get me arrested, you lose your fucking job for being a creep. Leave. Us. The. Fuck. Alone. You got what you wanted. She’s probably at the apartment packing my shit as we speak.” He snatched the folder from Stechner. “I’m taking this—now fuck off.”

With that, he turned around, his heart pounding, heading to where he dropped his files.

Sheriff Arturo’s assistant, Joy, came out of the conference room, holding her notepad to her chest with wired-rimmed glasses on her freckled face. He’d forgotten she’d been taking notes for her boss at the meeting.

“Go to the hospital and talk to her,” she said. “I’ll clean up the mess here and make sure he—” She glared at Stechner. “—is escorted out of the building.” Her eyes came back to him, the fresh college graduate looking worried, when she continued, “Whatever is going on sounds bad, and you need to go right now and fix it, Javi. Go to her! Hurry!”

She was right.

“Thank you,” he replied and started jogging down the maze of hallways to get out of the building.

By the time he made it to his truck, sweat was coating his forehead, and he didn’t bother putting on his sunglasses, tossing the file Stechner had on the passenger seat, the tires screeching as he turned onto the roadway. His hand tightly squeezed the steering wheel while the other dug his phone out of his pocket, holding it up to his ear as he speed-dialed Cielito.

Ring.

“Your call has been forwarded to an automated voice messaging system—”

“Fuck,” he hissed, redialing.

Ring.

“Your call—” He hit the end call button, glancing at the clock on his dashboard.

She should be on lunch right now and have her phone.

She should be answering.

She always answered.

He dialed again.

Ring.

Dread filled him once more.

“Your call—” He clicked the end button.

Was she screening his calls? Was she letting him go to voicemail?

Was she done with him? Was this all over? Was she even going to be at the hospital when he got there? Or did she leave work early to go home and pack his things?

He didn’t want to call her work, but he needed to know if he was heading to the right place, scrolling through his cellphone’s phone book until he found the number he was looking for and pushed call.

Ring.

“Doctor’s Hospital of Laredo, how may I direct your call?”

“Post-op nurse’s station.”

“One moment.”

Ring.

“Post-op. Robyn speakin’,” her cheery voice answered.

He let out a relieved breath.

Robyn would know where she was at.

“Robyn, it’s Javi—“

“She can’t talk right now,” she interrupted in a serious tone, her change in demeanor jolting him and making his stomach drop.

“Just…” His throat felt tight, swallowing hard while his eyes watered. “Just tell me if she’s there, please,” he all but begged.

“Of course she’s here.”

“Okay… Thank you…” he numbly replied, ending the call and setting the phone on the bench seat beside him.

A tear rolled down his cheek.

“Fuck!” he shouted, hitting the steering wheel.

How was it that hours ago, his life had been perfect?

Everything had finally fallen into place—he’d found the perfect woman who loved him and who he loved; he’d gotten his mother’s ring from his dad the day before and was going to take it to the jewelry store Monday to have it sized and altered, actively planning how he was going to propose so it’d be perfect.

She deserved perfection.

He’d been living the fucking dream, and now he wasn’t even sure if he still had a girlfriend.

She wasn’t answering his calls, and she’d roped in her friend to keep him from talking to her.

She promised him she’d still love him after finding out about his past, and he believed it, but he also knew Stechner was a sadistic prick, and Javier didn’t know what she’d been told—what lies, and exaggerations were said to make him look as horrible as possible.

It must’ve been jarring for her, and she wanted space—what she needed was to hear the truth, the whole truth of everything he went through down there, that he should’ve fucking told her months ago. He felt like a real piece of shit that he put her in this position. Javier knew her better than anyone else, and had she known about Los Pepes, and all the other shit he’d been keeping from her, he knew for a fact she would’ve sniffed Stechner out right away and ripped him to fucking pieces for trying to sabotage their relationship. But she didn’t know, and that rat bastard got what he wanted.

The traffic light turned green, and he laid on the horn when the car in front of him didn’t immediately go, passing them when he could as he sped over the speed limit.

All he could think about was how he had to get to her and straighten this all out—hell, if he needed to, Steve could corroborate everything he was going to tell her.

He would fix this. He had to fix this.

There was no other option.

He couldn’t go back to how he was living before her, which wasn’t living at all; it was just existing with no purpose. There was a purpose now; there was more than a purpose, expanding to hopes and dreams for their future together.

She was his sun, shining brightly, giving him life, warmth, and helping him grow. He was her moon, faithfully following her anywhere she’d go, reflecting her radiant love, loving her day and night in her best and worst moments.

He loved her more than anything, and he would do whatever it took to make this right.

His eyes were burning.

“Tengo miedo, amá (I’m scared, mom),” he whispered under his breath. “Me duele el corazón (My heart is hurting). No puedo perderla, amá (I can’t lose her, mom). La amo más que a nada en el mundo y no puedo vivir sin a ella (I love her more than anything in the world and I can’t live without my her).” Tears fell down his cheeks. “¿Puedes hablar con alguien en el cielo o dondequiera que estés (Can you talk to someone in heaven or wherever you are)? ¿Por favor, amá (Please, mom)?” He wiped at his face, sniffling. “¿Por favor (Please)? La amo y haré cualquier cosa para recuperarla de vuelta (I love her and I will do anything to get her back).”

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absurdthirst · 2 months

Text

The Peña Matchmaker {Javier Peña x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 17.1k

Warnings: Stranger sex, bathroom sex, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, mentions of food play, oral sex (male and female receiving), riding, somnophilia, waking up to sexual activity, public sex, abusive boyfriends, one slap, threats, domestic violence, threats of sexual assault, police, protective Javi.

Comments: Meeting at Danny's wedding because of his tía, your boss, starts an exciting, causal sexual affair with Javier Peña. Leading you down a road of fun and adventure until he's called back to Colombia, leaving you alone and adrift.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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

Javi didn’t really want to attend his cousin’s wedding but his pa had asked him to come and the old man didn't ask much of him. Javi doesn’t really like seeing his extended family, too many questions about his job and when he’s going to settle down. His reputation has thankfully stayed in Colombia but his prior misdemeanors i.e leaving Lorraine at the altar had earned him the title of the casanova of Laredo. Since coming home in disgrace, he’s been laying low at his pa’s ranch, helping out, but today, he’s going to deal with his family. Christ, Sicarios are less scary. The wedding is thankfully quick and soon everyone is in the reception hall next door, beers opened and catering done by his tía’s restaurant is put out for anyone to enjoy. He’s sipping his beer, looking around the hall, and that’s when he sees you.

****

“Stop fussing over the food and go and have a drink.” Diana shoos you away from the long table and you sigh. You’d helped her with the food for her son’s wedding and now she wants you to go relax. You know Danny and his bride, having gone to high school with them, and you were grateful when his mother, Diana, offered you a job at her restaurant after you graduated. You’ve been with her ever since, wanting to put your culinary degree to use. You follow her order and walk over to the bar, picking up a bottle of wine and you huff as you struggle to get the screw top open.

Javi notices the pretty woman struggling with the wine and he doesn’t know her. Stepping up to you and taking the bottle from your hand, he shoots you a charming grin. “Let me.” He offers and easily twists the cap off to hand it to you. “Those bottles are hard to get into when you need them the most.” He jokes.

“Thanks.” You huff. “Although you don’t seem like the type to drink ‘white Zinfandel’.” You grin, imagining this handsome and rugged man holding a wine glass. Whiskey seems more his speed, although he has a bottle of Budweiser in his hand as he reaches around you to the bar. You introduce yourself and hope that he’s not married, you don’t see a ring on his finger.

Javi doesn't get a chance to introduce himself before his tía, Diana, is doing it for him. "Oh I was going to introduce you two." She says your name, "this is my nephew, Javier. He's just got back from Colombia and he's single." She winks and you cringe slightly. The older woman has been hinting about you meeting her nephew since his return, often reprimanding you for letting yourself get trapped in your work and not finding yourself a boyfriend.

"It's great to meet you." You say and Diana practically beams.

"Javi, she's single too." She fails at being discreet but Javi doesn't embarrass you by saying he doesn't date. Instead, he nods and Diana looks between you once more, "I'll leave you two to get to know each other."

You groan softly, taking a gulp of your wine, "that wasn't awkward at all."

“Leave it to tía to cut through the bullshit and get right to the matchmaking.” Javi jokes, taking it easy on you. You are pretty, there’s no denying that and he would love to see how you moan, but he can tell that you are the relationship type. “Don’t worry about it.” He promises when you have drained half your wine. “It’s not worth the wine hangover.”

You snort and shake your head. “I love her, but she is not subtle. I don’t blame you if you run away now.”

“You should be the one running.” Javi chuckles, aware that his reputation is mud around here.

You lower the glass from your lips and turn to look at him, "your reputation doesn't scare me off but the way Lorraine is glaring at me from across the room makes me think that she isn't over you jilting her." You raise your eyebrows to Lorraine in a silent challenge when she looks your way again.

Javi shifts from one foot to the other, "yeah well, she has her husband and 2.5 kids she always wanted. I chase after sicarios like I always wanted." He snorts and sips his beer, "reputation."

He shakes his head and you smirk, "you can't live in Laredo without knowing about the great Javier Peña. With the way your tía talks about you, you'd think you'd come right from a GQ magazine." You nudge him playfully.

"Do I live up to expectations?" He smirks, moving side to side with his arms out.

You bite your lip, trailing your gaze along the length of him, liking what you see but you don't let him know that when you reply, "meh, you aren't bad on the eyes."

Javi’s eyes crinkle when he grins. Not a polite smile, but a real grin that is accompanied by the smallest chuckle. “Not bad, huh?” He rocks his jaw and slides his hands on his jeans. “I guess I can live with that.” He shrugs and glances up and down your body, letting his gaze turn slightly darker. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

You flush a little, feeling your stomach twist at the way he's looking at you. "It's the new dress I bought for today." You murmur, glancing back across the room.

“It's not the dress." Javi replies and you manage to stop the shiver of arousal from the slight rasp in his voice. Before you can reply, the DJ starts to play the music and you turn back to look at Javi. "Have you tried the food?" You ask and he nods, "it's delicious." You smile, "thanks. I did the catering. It's my thing...I'm the chef for your tía's place."

Javi hums, impressed with that. “I can cook chorizo and eggs and not burn toast.” He offers, smirking slightly and aware that it’s almost an invitation to breakfast. While he doesn’t date, he does fuck and he’s been known to make breakfast before sending the girl off the next morning if it’s an all nighter. “Did you make the cherry empanadas too?” He asks, humming when you nod. “They were good. Damn good. I ate three of them. Sweet and tangy, just the way I like it.”

You smirk at his flirting, enjoying the banter and ease after being so stressed with work lately. "Glad to hear it." You hum and the song changes. "Oh, I love this song." You sigh and Javi holds his hand out after setting his beer down.

"Wanna dance, hermosa?" He asks and you bite your lip, nodding as you set your drink down and let him lead you to the dance floor. There are other couples and the song is sensual but not too slow, letting Javi pull you close and you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck.

It’s been a long time since Javi has had a woman in his arms and it’s not been leading up to tearing each other’s clothes off, but he remembers how to dance. Swaying with you gently to the music, he watches your eyes soften as you glance over at where the bride and groom are sharing their own dance. “It’s hard to believe that Danny’s married.” He shakes his head. “He was a kid when I left Laredo.” He tells you. “Now he’s a Marine, and a husband.”

“It’s hard to believe Danny’s married.” You echo, “he was a freshman when I graduated, you know.” You say and Javi’s fingers twitch against your hips.

“I - I didn’t know.” He admits and you chuckle, leaning in close, “such a dirty old man.” You tease and he snorts, “dirty, huh? You haven’t seen it yet, hermosa.”

You smirk and push yourself a little closer to him as he sways you. “Maybe I wouldn’t mind seeing it.” You murmur, tilting back to look into those dark brown eyes.

“Yeah?” He smirks and glances around the room at the family and friends. “Do you want to get out of here?” He asks, lifting a brow. “Or do you want to be really dirty and stay?” He can’t deny that he wants to see what is under that dress and slide inside you.

You like how forward he is. There’s no false promises or messing around with sweet words. He’s direct and that turns you on. You lean closer, brushing your lips against his ear. “Go get a beer and meet me in the bathroom in five minutes.” You murmur as the song ends. You kiss under his ear and pull back, making your way across the dance floor and towards the bathrooms in the back of the hall, hidden by the corridor between the hall and the church.

Exhaling roughly, Javi turns and makes his way towards the bar so he can grab that beer. It would be the fastest beer he’s ever drank. “You have that look about you, mijo.” Chucho walks up and slaps Javi on the back.

Grunting, he twists the top off the beer. “Don’t know what you mean.” He offers, mentally timing how long it’s been since you’ve walked off in his head. “Just havin’ a beer.”

Chucho doesn’t believe him, just smirks and shakes his head before he murmurs, “just be safe.” He walks off towards his sister in law who grins and pats him on the shoulder when he approaches her. You look into the mirror, checking your appearance and adjusting your hair as you wait for Javi. When the door opens and he enters, you turn to face him, listening to the lock click and you wait for him to make the next move.

Watching you for a moment, Javi rushes forward and pulls you against him, fusing his lips to yours hungrily. It’s been a long time since he’s gotten laid. Nearly a week before he left Colombia and for a man who used sex to work out his frustrations, that was a long time. His tongue pushes inside your mouth as soon as your lips part, demanding control and he pushes you up against the sink.

You moan into his mouth, gripping his shirt, and his hands slide down to squeeze your ass and you whimper. His cock is hard and pressing into your hip as his fingers slide up to grip the zipper of your dress. He slides it down enough to pull it off of your arms, exposing your bra and you unbutton his plaid shirt, caressing the skin of his chest.

Javi kisses down your jaw, nipping your skin lightly as he works the clasp of your bra. He should be going into your panties, but he wants to suck on your tits and as soon as the straps of your bra are sliding down he ducks his head to wrap his lips around one of your nipples.

“Fuck.” You moan softly, tilting your head back as he sucks and bites down on your nipple. Your fingers fumble to unbuckle his belt and after you finally manage to get it open, you unbutton his pants and reach in to squeeze his cock. “Oh God.” You moan at the girth of him, hot and heavy in your hand.

He groans against your breast, enjoying the way you explore his cock and touch him. Twitching when you reach down farther to cup his balls and feel how heavy they are. Switching to the other breast, his hand slides beneath your dress and pushes your panties to the side so he can discover how wet you are. Grunting when he finds you slick from anticipation, he rubs your clit before pushing two fingers inside you.

“Fuck, Javi, baby.” You gasp when his thick fingers stretch you out and your grip on his cock tightens. Your hips rock into his touch as much as you can with him pressing you against the sink and your free hand tangles in his dark locks. “Jav. I need - want you to fuck me.” You plead, needing to feel him inside of you. It’s been too long since you’ve had sex and you want to feel him, all of him. “I- safe - I am on birth control.” You promise and whimper when his fingers curl just right inside of you.

“Fuck.” He hisses, enjoying the idea of sliding into you bare. He prefers it that way. Pulling his fingers out of your wet heat, he spins you around and pulls your dress up so he can drag your panties down your thighs. Feet kicked apart, he is pressing close within seconds. Lining up and starting to sink into you with a sharp snap of his hips.

Your mouth falls open, eyes closed as he pushes deep and stretches you out. “Holy shit.” You gasp and he reaches up to grab your jaw, “eyes on me, hermosa.” He orders and you struggle but manage to open your eyes so you can look at him.

“Javi, you feel - fuck.” You moan softly when he starts to move inside of you. Your hips are pressed against the sink, digging in, but you don’t care, too enthralled by the feel of him and the way he’s looking at you in the mirror like you’re the only woman in the world.

Aware that this is a bathroom romp, Javi can’t tear his eyes away from you. From fling to paid worker, he always enjoyed the connection with his partner while he is fucking their brains out. “Hermosa.” He groans, fingers digging into your hips as your cunt hugs him like a fucking glove. He works himself to a quick rhythm, hips slapping against your ass harshly and grunting at how good it feels to bury himself inside you again and again. “So tight.” He hisses.

You love hearing his grunts and hisses, his eyes burning into yours as he thrusts into you over and over again. “I love it. I love how you feel inside of me. Keep going. I love it.” You moan, reaching back to grip his hand, bringing it to your breast to squeeze it.

Javi groans, squeezing your tit harshly and pinching your nipple just to feel you clench down around him. He’s needed this, needed a good fuck to make all his worries fall away. You are gorgeous and take him so well. “Fuck, you are perfect.” He hisses, wrapping his arm around your stomach and pulling you back against him so he can kiss and bite along your shoulder.

“Oh God.” You tilt your head back to close your eyes but he reminds you to keep watching him in the mirror. You nod, tilting your head to meet his dark gaze once more and you whimper when he kisses along your neck, rasping in your ear, “such a good girl, hermosa.”

You are close, one hand gripping his forearm and the other snakes down to rub your clit, knowing you need more to cum around him. “Shit. I’m gonna cum baby.” You warn him breathlessly, continuing to rub the bundle of nerves.

Javi watches you rub your clit for a moment before he’s slapping your hand away and replacing your fingers with his own. Wanting to be the reason you cum. Wanting to control your pleasure. He had made sure the girls he paid for sex had a good time, he definitely wanted you to. “Cum for me, hermosa.” He growls in your ear. “Wanna feel it, soak my cock.”

His fingers feel so much better than your own and you let him work you up until you’re falling apart for him. “Oh fuck!” You squeal, clamping down on his cock and your nails dig into his forearm as he keeps you upright so he can keep fucking you through your orgasm.

“Fuck.” The sounds of him fucking you get wetter, sloppier as he keeps ramming his hips forward. Rocking up onto his toes as he tries to push deeper inside your cunt while you gush around him. “So fucking good, hermosa. Tight little cunt ‘s gonna milk me dry.” He hisses.

“Cum for me. Cum for me, Javi.” You beg, wanting to watch him fall apart inside of you. He grits his teeth, grunts escaping his lips and you clench around him, trying to egg him on until a few thrusts later, he’s pushing deep inside of you and he hisses as he paints your walls. “Yesss.” You moan, loving the way his jaw drops as he cums inside of you.

He pants, his entire body relaxing as he pumps you full of his cum. Groaning your name and turning his head to kiss your jaw and then your lips as he rides out his high. “Fuck that was good.” He groans. “I need a cigarette after that.” He chuckles, knowing he’s going to chew some Nicorette instead of having the smoke he’s craving.

You smile lazily, relishing the feel of him inside and around you until he’s pulling out and you reach to grab the paper towels to clean yourself up. “That was good. I guess we better get back out there before we are missed.” You toss the dirty paper towels into the trash and turn to face Javi once you are situated. You grab the front of his shirt to pull him close, pressing your lips to his. “I had a damn good time, Peña.” You murmur, caressing his chest.

He hums and smirks at you. “I did too.” He promises, although he doesn’t ask for your number or a date. He kisses you again and pats you on the ass as he spins you towards the door. “Go on out so we are too suspicious.” He tells you quietly.

You falter a little, thinking he’d at least ask you out for a drink but you don’t push. You know his reputation so you nod, walking away and back into the party, grabbing another glass of wine. You watch Javi walk in a couple of minutes later, walking over to his dad to lean in and whisper in his ear. His eyes meet yours across the room and he winks at you, turning to walk out of the hall. You frown, watching him go and as soon as he’s gone, you down the glass of wine you’re drinking. Javier Peña is a ladies man and you didn’t expect to change that but he got what he wanted and left. It doesn’t sit right with you but there’s nothing you can do except enjoy the rest of the wine.

****

Javi hadn’t meant to hold up at the ranch for a solid two weeks, but fence after fence made it practically impossible to break away and when he was finally done working, he was too exhausted to clean up and go into town. Now, he finally has a day where nothing is planned and he’s decided to go to his tía’s restaurant to get a meal that wasn’t burned or raw. His late mother had definitely been the cook in the family. Dressed in clean jeans and a work shirt, he looks like most of the other farmers or ranchers as he walks in the door, chewing on his gum and wondering if you are working.

Tuesday nights are always quiet. You are grateful for it after a busy weekend cooking and you are sitting at the bar, having a drink during your break when he walks in. You haven’t heard from Javier Peña since the moment he walked out of Danny’s wedding reception and it hurts a little. You wonder if he’s been ignoring you on purpose. He knows where you work and he could’ve asked Diana for your number. You wonder if he enjoyed having sex with you or if he regrets it. You turn to look over at him as he walks in and you see Sarah, the hostess greet him with a flirty “hi, how can I help you?”

“Table.” Javi keeps it simple as he looks around the restaurant and his brows shoot up when he sees you sitting at the bar. “With her.” He points to you. “Unless she’s off.”

Sarah looks over at you and she comes over with the menu, “he said he wants to sit with you.” You nod, gesturing to the table nearest to you, “sit him here.” She nods and goes back over to escort Javi to the table. You stand up to greet him, “didn’t expect to see you in here?” You say, pulling out the chair and you sit down with your drink while Sarah sets the menu down on the table for him.

Javi walks up and shoots you a small grin, a little self conscious as he scrubs his hands on his jeans. He knows you probably think he’s a dick for fucking you and dipping without another word. “Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Just don’t- uh, poison my food?” He jokes. “I fully expect you to spit in it.”

You smirk, “oh don’t worry, Peña, I’ll take care of you.” You tease, knowing you can’t really be mad when you knew who he was before you fucked him in the bathroom. “You want something to drink?” You ask and he nods, taking a seat.

“Beer.” He says and you ask Sarah to get him a beer.

“Take a look at the menu. Tell me what you want.” You tell him, knowing your break will be over shortly anyway.

“Take your time.” Javi insists, shaking his head. He takes the menu and hums as he gazes at it. “What would you recommend?” He asks. “Since you aren’t cooking?” He remembers you said that you cook here, but you’re obviously serving tonight. “Because I know you have things that only you do well.”

“We are always quiet on a Tuesday so I let my sous chef take over and I come out to be the manager so our manager and Diana get a day off. I take Monday and Wednesday off.” You explain, “mmm I’d suggest the ribeye with the baked potato and the rancher salad.” You suggest, knowing your sous chef can cook a mean steak.

“Then when you are done with your break, that’s what I’ll have.” He doesn’t want you to cut your break short, knowing that sometimes that’s the only time you have to decompress. You nod and he looks around. “It’s a nice place, I’ve never been here before.” He admits. “My tía didn’t have it when I left for the academy.”

“She’s worked hard to build this place up. I’ve been here since the beginning. She hired me straight out of culinary school and gave me a chance. I owe everything to her. She’s a great woman. Someone I aspire to be one day. A business owner.” You smile fondly, glancing around at the restaurant that’s changed over the years.

“Then it will happen for you.” Javi predicts. The food at the wedding had been amazing and he was impressed with your outlook. “Maybe you can buy her out when she’s ready to retire or do one of those food truck things.” He suggests. “They are getting big in D.C.”

You smile, liking the way he thinks, “maybe one day. My own place or this one but someday.” You nod, “by the way…I dont - I don’t usually do that kind of thing.” You bite your lip, voice lowered and Javi chuckles, leaning closer.

“I, uh, I do.” He admits and you already knew that.

You shake your head, smiling when you say, “I know. Pretty sure the whole town knows.”

He had figured the story about his conquests had gotten around. Laredo was a small town in a lot of ways and Lorraine’s family liked to bring it up according to his pop. “I don’t really do relationships because of my job.” He explains. “It’s hard to do, my former partner damn near got a divorce in Colombia.”

You can understand why he didn’t want attachments. Moving around, a life or death contingency within his job. He wouldn’t want to leave someone behind. “I can understand that. It’s hard for me too. I work a lot. And at night. Most men don’t want a girlfriend who works as much as I do.” You confess and Javi nods in understanding.

Your break is over and you stand regretfully to move over to write his dinner ticket. Javi finishes his beer and before you disappear back into the kitchen, he holds it up. “Can I have another, hermosa?”

You nod, handing the ticket to your sous chef before you go get Javi another beer. “So are you getting reassigned yet?” You ask, “or are you back home for good?” You are curious if he’s ready to settle at his childhood home or if he’s itching to escape suburbia again.

Javi sighs and his fingers itch for a cigarette to hold between them, fiddling with the coaster. “I don’t know.” He admits. “No one knows, but I’m on administrative leave.” Your eyes widen and he blows out another sigh and shrugs. “I got involved with the wrong people trying to catch Escobar. I’m on ice until they decide to can my ass or send me to Siberia.”

“Shit. I'm sorry. That’s - hopefully they bring you back. From what I’ve heard, you’re good at what you do so it’s their loss if you are let go.” You reach out to squeeze his shoulder until Sarah calls you over to help with the register. Javi’s food is brought over to his table and you let him take a few bites before you check in and ask how his food is.

“This is a fucking good steak.” Javi groans, spearing another piece of steak and shoving it into his mouth. Since he’s stopped smoking, his appetite has gotten a little better, or maybe it’s because he’s not drinking quite as much. “Fuck, what do you do to it?”

You smirk, loving that he is enjoying his meal. “It’s all in the seasoning and the sear.” You wink and he cuts into the steak again. “If you like the steak, you wait until you have dessert.” You flirt and walk off when a customer calls you over, swaying your hips a little more than usual as you walk away from Javi.

His eyes follow you, fixed on your ass as he chews his steak. Remembering how you sounded while he was fucking you in that bathroom. Wondering if he could talk you into a repeat performance. Maybe not at your job, that would be stupid to put you at risk. He only tears his eyes away to fork up a bite of his baked potato and take a drink of his beer as he watches you interact with your customer.

You swing back by and are happy that he’s halfway done with his food. Obviously enjoying it. “You decide on dessert?” You ask.

Javi smirks at you, leaning forward and licks his lips. “Why don’t you decide for me, hermosa?” He asks. “Something….sweet.”

You nod, biting your lip at the dark look in his eyes. Your fingers brush his as you take the menu from his hand. “I’ll get you something sweet.” You promise and make your way into the kitchen. You come back later with the chocolate soufflé that was your signature back in culinary school. “Here you go.” You set it down in front of him, eager to see what he thinks of it.

He lifts a brow and looks down at the delicious looking dessert and then back up at you. “Is there an option to eat this off you?” He asks with a wink before he picks up his spoon. “Think it might taste better.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “No. Unfortunately not, but I do have a can of whipped cream and some chocolate sauce back at my place if you’re interested?” You smirk, wondering if he will take you up on your offer or if it was a one time thing at the church.

Javi hums and rubs his chin. “What time do you get off, hermosa?” He asks, wondering if you are being serious or just joking around. “Because I’m willing to stay.”

You step a little closer, “I gotta cash out but the kitchen closes in ten and I can leave Sarah and the others to lock up. Think you can wait ten minutes for me?” You ask him, wondering if he will or if he will go home.

He chuckles and nods. “I think it’ll take me ten minutes to eat this.” He jokes, already digging into the soufflé and groaning at the taste.

You nod, “take your time. I’ll go start cashing out.” You rub his shoulder as you walk away and make your way over to the register. Usually you’d stay until everyone is finished with their work but the temptation of Javi has you rushing out of the door for once. You finish cashing out and walk back over to Javi as he sets his fork down. He pays for his meal and you add it to the tally before you grab your things. “You ready to go?” You ask, unsure if he’s changed his mind.

“Do you want me to follow you?” He asks, pulling his keys from his pocket as he guides you towards the door. Even if you change your mind, he’s going to walk you to your car. “I know it’s Laredo, but it could still be dangerous.” He explains when he strides past his truck with you towards the far end of the parking lot where the workers park.

You like that he wants to guide you to your car and when you stand by it, you move closer to him, tilting your head to kiss his jaw. “You wanna come home with me?” You ask, reaching up to play with the button on his shirt.

“More than anything.” He groans, looking down at your lips. “I can’t promise you anything beyond tonight.” He cautions. “But I guarantee you won’t regret me in your bed. Stretching you out and tasting your cunt before I fuck you this time.”

You whimper at his words, knowing he’s capable of making you feel incredible. You nod, “I don’t want dinner and a movie, Javi. I want you to fuck me hard and make me cum.” You reach down to cup his cock through his jeans. “Follow me.” You order and unlock your car, “I am about ten minutes away.”

He waits until you are in your car before he hustles back to his truck and quickly jumps in. Eager to follow you out of the parking lot and to your house, he throws the gears into drive and pulls out behind you when you leave the gravel parking lot.

When you pull up outside of your home, you move fast to unlock your front door and flick on the lights and Javi isn’t too far behind you, his hands finding your waist just as you set your purse down. You spin in his arms, surging forward to press your lips to his as he kicks the door shut behind him.

Javi groans into your mouth, pulls you close as he crowds you. Licking eagerly before pulling away. “Where’s your bedroom, hermosa?” He demands, pulling your shirt out of your pants, and sliding his hands up your back to start undoing your bra. “I really want to see it.”

You love how eager he is, walking backwards towards your bedroom. You work on unbuttoning his shirt, letting him push you into your bedroom when you fumble behind you to open the door. “Here it is.” You announce as you push his shirt off of his shoulders.

“Good.” He huffs as he tosses the shift down on the floor, and starts to pull yours off. “Don’t think I could last much longer.” He admits. “Thought about putting you up on your bar.”

“I would’ve loved that.” You tell him with utmost honesty. “I wouldn’t have complained.” You confess breathlessly as he works on pulling your bra down your arms after your shirt joins his on the floor. “Wanted to touch you earlier but I want you to fuck me on my bed.”

“In a bed is better.” He can admit that, even as much as he enjoyed that bathroom. “Especially if it has you naked in it.” He palms your tits and groans, looking down as he does. “You like these being sucked on, hermosa?”

You moan, nodding as he squeezes your tits. “Yesss.” You hiss when he pinches your nipples and you reach down to unbutton his pants. “Need you inside of me again. Thought about it every damn day since the wedding.” You confess, reaching in to squeeze his cock. “Thought about sucking your cock too.”

“Shit. Yeah?” He hisses and twitches in your hand. “I wouldn’t mind you doing that.” He admits. “But later. Right now I want to see how you taste.” Javi flashes you a smirk. “See if you are better than that dessert.”

“That dessert is my signature so I doubt it, Peña.” You smirk and release his cock when he unbuttons your pants and pushes them down. You kick off your shoes and move your pants aside as he guides you back to lay down on the bed in your underwear. “Don’t forget the socks.” You tease, wiggling your toes once you’re laying down and Javi’s fingers slide along your calf until he’s pulling your sock off.

Javi chuckles and lifts a foot and playfully bites your ankle as he shuffles onto the bed. “You look pretty on that bed.” He hums, his fingers running up and down your thigh and around your knee.

You know he’s flattering you but you accept it, hoping he thinks you are pretty especially when he’s had his choice of so many women. “You’re not too bad yourself, Peña.” You coo, looking up at him as he hooks his fingers in your panties after tossing your other sock over his shoulder. You lift your hips so he can pull your underwear down and once that’s tossed too, you spread your legs for him.

“Shit.” He hisses, admiring the neat, trimmed hair over your cunt. “That’s a pretty sight.” He slaps your thigh and starts to lean in, kissing and nipping down your legs as he settles between your thighs with his jeans still on. It will be the only way he doesn’t cum before he wants to.

You shift onto your elbows so you can watch him as he shuffles closer. He presses kisses to your thighs, his dark eyes focused on you and you inhale sharply when his hot breath fans over your wet cunt. “Please.” You breathe out and your mouth falls open in a silent cry when his tongue finally slides through your folds.

Javi groans, enjoying the heady, tangy taste of your cunt and his fingers hold tight to your hips as he flicks his tongue over your clit. He wants to make you cry out in pleasure, soak his face and cum for him. He groans again and keeps his dark eyes on you as he traces a path down to your entrance to circle it with his tongue and pushes inside.

God, his tongue is way too skilled to be real. Those eyes focused on you make you shiver and you shift onto one elbow, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair. “Fuck baby.” You sigh when his nose presses against your clit while his tongue pushes deep.

He hums and smirks as he curls his tongue up into you. He knows you are enjoying yourself and the way you start to tug on his hair and grind yourself into his face. He squeezes your hip to encourage it.

You whimper, loving how he is letting you use his face to get off. He’s enthusiastic and you wonder if he’s like this with every woman he’s with. Even the ones he’s paid for. “Shit, Jav. So good. So damn good.” You pant, pulling on his hair again until you are collapsing back on the bed.

You nod, reaching down to drag him on top of you so you can kiss him. His tongue immediately slides into your mouth and you push on his chest, wanting him to move onto his back. He follows your unspoken order and shifts to lay down. You kiss him again, along his jaw and down his neck. Licking into his clavicle until you reach his nipples and you flick your tongue over each one, kissing down his stomach until you are settled between his legs. You reach into his jeans to pull his cock out, wrapping your fingers around him and you take a moment to admire his girth. “Fuck baby.” You murmur, meeting his gaze as you lean forward to wrap your lips around the tip.

“Shit.” He hisses, watching with lust filled eyes as your mouth stretches around his cock. Loving how eager you are. “Fuck, hermosa, that’s it. You like this don’t you? Like sucking my cock and seeing how hard I am for you?” He asks, grinning when you hum around him and take him deeper into your mouth.

You really do love it. Knowing that he’s in your bed out of all the women in Laredo has you wanting to show off so you take him deeper, choking slightly as you stretch your jaw until your nose brushes the coarse hair at the base of his cock.

“F-fuck.” He grunts, reaching down and cupping your cheek. “You’re so pretty like this. Sucking my cock. Gonna fuck you, but one day I’ll come down your throat.” He knows that he will come back here if you let him. He would be here as often as he can.

You moan around him, letting him know you’d love that as he pulls you off of his cock, making you whine in protest. “Baby.” You huff but he’s grabbing your shoulders, “want you to ride me.” He grunts and you don’t argue with him, straddling him as he works on kicking off his shoes and his jeans. You reach back to help him before you lift up to grip his cock, positioning him at your entrance and you slowly sink down onto him.

Javi groans your name as you take him. His hands on your hip, he watches in awe of how good you look while you are stretching your cunt out on his cock. He has always loved a woman on top and he surges up to press his lips to yours.

You moan into his mouth, adjusting to his thick length inside of you for a moment before you brace your hands on your headboard to start moving. Your tits swaying as you grind back onto him, your moans absorbed into his mouth.

Javi grunts, groaning as you start to ride him, the slow roll of your hips starting to speed up until you are bouncing on his dick like you are trying to win a rodeo. “Fuck, hermosa.” He hisses and thrusts up into you.

You shift back, letting go of the headboard so you can ride him fast and hard, slamming down onto his cock as you seek your orgasm. He groans your name and you squeeze your tits, throwing your head back as you moan his name. "So good baby. So fucking good." You pant, getting closer to your orgasm.

Javi chases your hand away from your breast, replacing it with his own and moaning as you clench down around him. “Fuck.” He pants, squeezing your tit and then leaning forward to bite your nipple. Your gasp thrills him and he suckles to soothe the pain.

You whimper at the way he switches over to your other breast, sucking and biting and you can’t take it anymore. “Oh oh oh!” You moan, your eyes closing as you cum, thighs clenching against his sides as you grip him inside of your cunt, soaking him with your juices. “Yesss.” You hiss, riding out your high.

Javi watches you, groaning at how you soak him and squeeze him inside your throbbing little cunt. Gritting his teeth, he rocks his hips up to chase his own orgasm. “Fuck, fuck you’re so tight.”

His fingers dig into your hips as he fucks up into you, seeking his own orgasm, and you kiss along his jaw. “Cum for me baby. Fill me up.” You beg, “wanna feel it.” You bite down on his jaw, clenching around his cock to egg him on.

It doesn’t take too much longer, half a dozen thrust before he is panting out your name. Thrusting deep and burying his cock in your tight walls as he paints them with hot spurts of his cum.

You whimper, loving how it feels, and you let him rock into you until he stops. You tilt your head so you can kiss him, loving how he feels and sounds, and you know you want to do this again. “So good baby.” You murmur, caressing his cheek.

“Really good.” Javi grunts as he kisses you back two, three times before he starts to pull out of you gently. Rolling onto his back, he opens his arm to let you curl against him if you want to. “Good way to relax after work, right?”

You nod, “the best way.” You curl into his side, caressing his chest as you both are silent, just relaxing and enjoying the aftermath. “I want to keep doing this. I know you don’t - I don’t expect flowers or dinners but I want you in my bed.” You lay out your expectations, knowing he can’t give you more than this.

“I don’t mind dinner.” Javi frowns slightly. “I just- I don’t know what I’m doing.” He admits. “I can’t promise you anything more than a good time and respect.” He looks at you and knows that he would like to spend more time with you. “And I’ll let you know if I want to move on. I have respect for you. I won’t sleep with anyone else while I’m in your bed.”

You appreciate his honesty, knowing that most men would have fed you some lines to keep their place in your bed. You shift to sit up on your elbow, looking down at him, “then let's just enjoy what we have without expectations. Dinners, drinks…whatever we wanna do and when it becomes boring or we don’t want to do it, we tell the other. Deal?” You ask, knowing you want to be on the same page to protect your heart.

“That sounds good to me, hermosa.” Javi reaches up and cups your cheek, leaning forward to kiss you softly. “Although I don’t see myself getting bored with you.” He admits with a smirk. “You might get tired of me. You don’t work tomorrow, right?”

You shake your head, “day off. Sous chef takes over. You wanna do something?” You ask, shifting to curl around him again now that you know he’s not gonna run out of the door.

“I’ve got to do a little work in the morning with my pop, but it shouldn't be more than a couple of hours.” He hums. “Could be back before you wake up. What do you want to do?”

“You wanna go to the movies? Jurassic Park sounds good.” You reach up to play with his hair.

“Sure, baby.” Javi says and you nod, “I’ll check the paper for the times in the morning.” You tell him and kiss his chest. “Maybe if you get back before I wake up, you can wake me up properly?” You tease softly, getting sleepy after he has made you cum.

He snorts and smirks as you start to soften against him. “If you’re lucky.” He teases back and strokes your bare back softly. “Go to sleep, hermosa.” He breathes out. “I’ll leave early, but I’ll be back.”

****

You smile when Javi carries the popcorn and soda into the movie theater for you. He paid for the tickets and you feel like this is a proper date. Still giddy from waking up to his tongue between your folds, you find a seat in the back row and grab a handful of popcorn when you are settled.

Javi smirks as you shove the popcorn in your mouth as he takes a sip of the soda. It’s been a long time since he’s had soda, but he enjoys the bubbles. “So what is this movie about again?” He whispers as the lights go down and the previews start. “I don’t remember.”

“Dinosaurs.” You whisper, leaning in to take a sip of the soda. The previews seem to take forever and you enjoy the way Javi leans into you. It’s the middle of the day so there’s only a few other people in the theater. Your hand finds his thigh and you squeeze it, settling back to watch the movie.

Javi leans back and throws his arm around you as the open scenes start. Relaxed and enjoying himself, he jumps slightly when the creature pulls the worker into the enclosure. “Shit.” He hisses. “Rather chase drug dealers.”

You chuckle, “afraid of the dinos, baby?” You tease and he scoffs but his lack of reply makes you chuckle. You finish the popcorn and soda and enjoy the movie but his hand on your shoulder is rubbing your skin and you can smell his cologne. “Javi.” You whisper, kissing his jaw.

“Hmmm?” He’s engrossed in the movie but he looks over at you in confusion. “You need to go to the bathroom?” He asks quietly, sure that you want him to grab more popcorn or drink while you are doing that.

“No.” You murmur, sliding your hand up higher until you are squeezing his cock through his jeans. You want him, even with the less than romantic movie playing. He makes you feel like a teenager and you want him in any way you can have him. “Need you.” You murmur, kissing his neck.

“Here?” Javi glances around the theater and has to admit that there aren’t many people here. “Less private than the bathroom.” He chuckles as his other hand slides up your sundress. “You want to sit on my cock while you watch the dinosaurs?” He asks.

His words send a bolt to your cunt, knowing you could get caught and his fingers slide higher along your thigh. "Yes. Yes baby." You whimper, working on unbuttoning his pants and you pull his hard cock out. Smirking when you realize how much you affect him, and you shift to sit in his lap. He pulls your panties aside and you sink down onto him, biting your lip to smother your moan. You lean back against his chest, enjoying the feel of him inside of you for a moment.

Javi groans quietly, trying to keep from bringing attention to you. “Fuck.” He reaches around you and presses his fingers to your clit and starts to rub it while you clench around his length. The movie plays, keeping him distracted enough that he doesn’t try to rock his hips up. Just letting you sit on him and pulse around him while you grind down subtly.

You grind as much as you can without drawing attention to yourselves. His hands on your thighs and you place your hands over them, working yourself on his cock. He groans into your ear, soft and just the right noise to make you clench around him.

He huffs happily as you work yourself closer to orgasm. “Such a dirty girl.” He groans. “Never gonna be able to watch a movie without thinking about you on my cock.” He promises.

You bring his hand back to your clit, biting your lip to smother your moan as he twitches inside of you and your walls flutter around him. “Fuckkk.” You exhale breathlessly as you clamp down on his cock.

It’s hard to let you ride out an orgasm without moaning and rocking up into you faster but he doesn’t want to give you away. “That’s it.” He hums.

You want him to cum too so you shift off of his cock, grateful that there’s no one in the row with you as you kneel down on the sticky floor and take him into your mouth. It’s dirty but you love it, wanting to please him and make him cum.

“Shit.” He hisses, unable to believe you are sucking his cock on a theater floor. Cupping your cheek, his dark eyes watch your cheeks hollow around him. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, hermosa.” He warns you, aware of some women’s disgust with swallowing.

You don’t pull off, you close your eyes as you swallow around his cock, eagerly taking every drop he gives you. You swallow and listen to his harsh breaths as he struggles to keep quiet while you swallow his load.

His eyes flutter and he struggles to keep them open to watch you swallow his cum. The roar of the dinosaur in the movie is how he feels right about now and he caresses your cheek until you are ready to pull off of him with a small pop.

You shift to sit back down while he tucks himself away. You lean in to kiss his jaw and he turns his head to press his lips to yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth. You cup his cheek and enjoy the kiss, loving that he doesn’t care about the lingering taste of his cum in your mouth.

Javi kisses you until you finally pull away, a pleased little smirk on your lips. Wrapping his arm around you, he’s pulling you close and chuckling as he presses his lips to your hairline. “You’re gonna be trouble, I can feel it.” He teases.

You chuckle, “and you love it.” You counter and he nods, “I do.” You smile, leaning into him again and you finish watching the movie. After you head back out into the hot Texas air, Javi guides you to his truck and you pull him close to kiss him again. “Never gonna forget that movie.” You tease, “best movie I’ve ever seen.”

“Yep, loved the - the…” he tries to think of the word and fails. “The music.” He finally decides. “Very dramatic music.” He laughs when you give him a knowing look and moves over to the door to open it for you to climb into the cab of his truck. “It was. I’ll never listen to that score without thinking about our watching this movie.”

You grin as he drives back to your place, watching him as he maneuvers the roads of Laredo. He’s so handsome, it makes your stomach twist and you hope this turns into something more than just friends with benefits. He has his meeting in D.C in a couple of weeks and you wonder what’s gonna happen next. A part of you hopes he stays so you can see what you could become, but a larger part of you knows he will be leaving soon so you will enjoy every moment you can have with him.

****

Javi looks over at you, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel to the sounds of the song playing on the radio. “What?” He demands, rolling his eyes at you even though his grin is playful. He had picked you up from work, like he had every evening you worked for the past two weeks. He’s also been carrying you into work the next morning.

You smile, shifting closer to him, “can’t I admire you, Peña?” You ask, leaning in to kiss his neck as he drives to your place. “Doesn’t your pa wonder why you are never home nowadays?” You ask, knowing Chucho has to be aware and has been gossiping with Diana who asked you how it’s going with Javi…all while sporting a shit eating grin on her face.

“He’s just happy I’m not bothering him.” Javi snorts, having endured Chucho’s smirks every day when he had left the ranch. The man loved to give him hell, so his lecture was from a place of love.

You giggle, “now you’re bothering me.” You joke and Javi rolls his eyes again.

“You love me bothering you.” He counters and you smirk, “and you love bothering me.” You retort and he clicks his tongue, “well…” He trails off, “sometimes.” He teases and you go to slap his side but he grabs your hand, bringing it to his lips to press a kiss to the back and you melt.

“When are you leaving for D.C?” You ask, a little breathless and he keeps your hand in his.

“Next week.” He squeezes your hand a little harder and sighs. “I’m not confident they will let me stay.” He admits quietly. “The story was big and she named names.” It had been a slap in the face, but what do you expect when you make deals with the devil. Or in his case, a drug dealer. “I’ll see what they say, but I’m not apologizing for doing my job.”

“Well they’d be stupid to not want to take you back.” You tell him, “and whatever happens, I’m here for you.” You promise, knowing that you aren’t certain of your future together but you’ll be there for him no matter what.

****

“Fuck, baby.” You moan when Javier pushes inside of you. It’s early, before dawn, and Javier has to leave soon to catch his flight to D.C but you woke up in the middle of the night with a need for him. He’s hovering over you, the light from the hall casting a glow over him so you can barely see his eyes but you love how it feels like you’re the only two people that exist. In the quiet of the morning, you aren’t disturbed by anything.

“Gonna miss you, miss this.” He had already packed and said goodbye to his pop before spending the night at your house. His lips hover over yours and he kisses you again and again as he rocks into you. “Shit, you feel so good.”

You caress his back, wrapping your legs around him to pull him even closer. “Gonna miss you. So damn much.” You sigh, tilting your head back so he can kiss along your neck. It’s intoxicating and you know you’re gonna ache when he’s gone, like a part of you is missing.

He wants to suggest that you come with him, but he can’t do that to you. You have a busy week at the restaurant and that wasn’t the deal when you started this. It’s supposed to be casual. “Gonna miss my tongue.” He chuckles, pressing that particular muscle to your pulse and lapping at your skin. “And the way I like to wake you up.”

You giggle breathlessly, "your tongue, your cock, your fingers, your voice. I'm gonna miss everything about you, baby." You assure him, "gonna miss you in my bed." You promise and slide your hands down his back to squeeze his ass, pushing him impossibly deeper inside of you.

“Fuck, hermosa.” He grunts, pressing his lips to yours again. Every thrust is slow and deep, making sure to draw out what will be the last time together before he flys out. Unsure of what the future holds, he wants to make this memorable and his teeth find your bottom lip to bite gently.

You whimper into his mouth, getting closer to your orgasm with every rock of his hips but you don’t want this to end. This could be the last time if he doesn’t come back to Laredo and you know you’ll miss him terribly. You’ve spent nearly every day together since that night he came into the restaurant. “Javi. Oh Javi.” You moan, shifting your hips so he is grinding against your clit. “Gonna - so close, baby.” You confess breathlessly.

“That’s it, baby.” He groans, feeling you get closer. Every panted moan just makes his chest swell in pride as you start to shake underneath him. “Cum for me. Want you to soak me.” He kisses along your jaw and moans in your ear. “Please baby, cum.”

His voice, raspy and still sleep muddled, sends you over the edge with a cry of his name. You clamp down on his cock with a low moan, soaking him and your nails bite into his back as you shake beneath him. The intensity of the orgasm has your eyes closing as you shudder through it.

“Goooooooooodddddd.” Javi groans, loving how intense it feels as your body locks down under him. The words that he’s been thinking flutter to the front again but he pushes it away. He can’t saddle you with that and you are happy here. “Fuck, baby.” He huffs, following after you just a short, frantic half dozen thrusts later. Moaning your name as he spills inside you.

You enjoy him inside of you, caressing his back and softly kissing him as he rides out his high. It’s early so you aren’t in a rush despite him needing to get to the airport soon. The words would be so easy to say but you can’t. You can’t give him your heart when you know he doesn’t want it or need it. You swallow harshly, tears stinging in your eyes and you bury your face in his chest to breathe him in.

“It’s okay.” He knows what you aren’t saying because he’s not saying it either. “I’ll give you a call.” He promises. “Letting you know what to say. If you’re gonna have to put up with me for longer.” He jokes as he holds you close for another long moment. “Do you want to shower with me, or go back to sleep?”

You appreciate his honesty. He’s never been anything but upfront with how he operates and you went into this knowing his reputation. You gather yourself together and lean back to look up at him. “I wanna shower with you.” You tell him, knowing you don’t want to miss this time you have left with him if he’s going to be reassigned. He pulls out of you and you exhale shakily, letting him move off of you and you shuffle off of the bed to walk into your bathroom to turn on the shower.

Javi follows you, frowning slightly as he starts to look around the room for anything that he might have left behind. He doesn’t want you to have to clean up his stuff, although one of his shirts is purposefully left on the dresser for you. He had liked how you looked in it, buttons open and exposing your body underneath.

You check the water temperature and it's nice and warm so you step in, grabbing the body wash and you sense Javier step in behind you, his hands finding your hips. “You gonna get me a souvenir from D.C?” You tease, turning your head to look up at him.

“Sure.” He smirks at you and wraps his arms around your back. “What do you want? One of those lighters? Coffee cup? T-shirt?”

You smirk, “snow globe. It’s stupid but I’ve collected them since I was a little kid. My dad used to get me one when he would travel for work so I have a collection from all over the country but not D.C.” You reveal and squirt some body wash into your palm, setting it down before you begin washing him.

“I’ll get you one.” He promises, making a mental note to make sure he finds you the best snow globe he can. “One that is perfect to finish off your collection.” Even if he doesn’t come back to Texas, he will send it to you. “Are you working today?” He asks as you wash his body for him.

You nod, “Diana wants me to work on the specials for the weekend. She wants to try something new…brunch.” You wrinkle your nose, “mimosas and omelets so I gotta train another chef for breakfast food.”

“Oh, that will be good.” He nods. “Those are popular now, aren’t they?” He asks, frowning slightly.

“Yes they are.” You assure him with a smile, making him chuckle.

“You’ll have to tell me stories about the drunk ladies being loud.”

You grin, "oh I'm sure there will be stories. Danny already agreed to be security." You joke and continue washing him. "Shit, he's gonna have his hands full." Javi jokes and you giggle, not saying anything else for a few moments until you reach up with soapy hands to cup his cheeks, "I'm gonna miss you, Peña."

“I’m gonna miss you too, hermosa.” He looks into your eyes seriously. “It’s been a lot of fun and I’ve enjoyed spending time with you.” He can’t admit how much he’s enjoyed it, but the sentiment is softer and sweeter than just a fling.

You finish washing him and he reciprocates, washing you and you reach out to wrap your arms around his neck once you are both standing under the water. You don’t say anything, just standing there until the water goes cold while he presses soft kisses to your skin. You step out of the shower and grab a towel for you and hand one to Javi. You’re both quiet as you get dressed after brushing your teeth - Javi ended up keeping a toothbrush at your place - and you head into the kitchen to make coffee.

You don’t say much but he guesses there isn’t much to say. Dressing in jeans and a button up, it’s a bit different from what he was wearing on the ranch, and he carefully repacks his bag. The hanging bag is in your living room with his suits in it and you had teased him that you couldn’t see him wearing a suit at all. Bringing his carryon into the living room, he sets it down and wanders into the kitchen to find you.

You lean into him when his hands find your hips as you pour his coffee and you wonder if this is what life would be like with him. Waking up to him, going to sleep with him. You can see a life with him and that’s what makes you so sad that you won’t get the chance to have that. You turn to kiss him when he leans towards you and you spin to hand him the cup of coffee.

“You taste better than coffee.” He takes the cup and sets it down behind you so he can cup your cheek. Feeling slightly desperate since he doesn’t know what is happening, he pours himself into the kiss and holds you close.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pressing yourself against him and he pushes you up against the counter. You don’t know if or when you’re gonna see him again so you enjoy his kiss, savoring it for when you’re alone. You pat his chest after your hands slide down once he pulls back. You look into those dark eyes, knowing you need to have this conversation. “Javi, if…if you’re gonna go back to Colombia, I need you to do whatever it takes to keep safe. We aren’t together so I know what you need to keep going. Whatever it takes to get you home again. It doesn’t matter what you do if it keeps you safe. We aren’t together so I can’t judge you if you…you know.” You trail off, not wanting to vocalize fully what you’re trying to say.

He nods seriously, frowning slightly. “And if you….find someone, I’ll-“ he swallows. “I’ll wish you the best and stay away.” He feels an astute sense of jealousy at the idea, but he can’t demand that you wait for him. He has no clue what would happen and he doesn’t want to do that to you. It’s best if he just lets you move on. “You deserve to find happiness, hermosa.” He promises, leaning in and kissing you again softly. “I’ll call you, okay?” He asks.

You nod, wanting to cry but you need to be strong. You will know if you're meant to be if he calls you from D.C and tells you he's coming home. You kiss his jaw and step back from him so you can work on making your cup of coffee. You sip your coffees while the morning news plays on the T.V on your counter and eventually, it's time for him to go. You watch him as he puts his carry on and garment bag in his truck then he's facing you to say goodbye. "Whatever happens, I will never regret meeting you at the wedding and spending this time with you." You promise him, "I - you know what I want to say."

He does know, nodding as he puts his hand on your waist to pull you close one last time. “I know.” He doesn’t say it either but he leans his forehead against yours, his nose brushing yours. “Be a good girl, hermosa.” He murmurs, smirking slightly. “Okay?”

You surge forward to press your lips to his, hungry and desperate to absorb as much of him as possible before he drives down the street. He devours you back until someone honks and you pull back with a grin, "you know I can't be good." You tease and he chuckles, squeezing your waist before he lets go. "Well, as good as you can be." He winks and you nod, stepping back from him. He winks at you after he gets into his truck, closing the door and winding down the window so he can get one last look at you. You blow him a kiss before he drives off and you stand there until his truck turns the corner to head towards the highway. With a choked sound, you make your way inside to get ready for work. It's going to be a long wait until he calls you.

****

Javi taps his hand on the top of the pay phone as he waits for the call to connect. He had memorized your phone number and your address, the snow globe and some other trinkets for you from D.C. already packed up and shipped out. He had actually done his shopping as soon as he had gotten in. He hadn’t wanted to forget, or not have time. He hears the phone ring about four times and as soon as he’s expecting the machine to pick up, your voice comes across the line breathlessly. “Hello? Hello?” Your voice makes him smile, albeit sadly.

“Hey hermosa, you miss me yet? Or happy to have your extra pillow back?”

Your heart flutters at hearing his voice, "you know I miss you, Peña but it's nice to spread out at night." You tease, remembering the way he'd wrap around you while he slept. You know why he's calling you, the tone in his voice. "You got reassigned?" You guess, wanting to hear him say it.

“They are sending me back to Colombia.” He admits quietly. “Station chief.” He was surprised by that one. He had imagined going back in disgrace, but they want him to take down the Cali Cartel, or that’s what they say they want him to do. It could just be a bogus assignment.

Your eyebrows raise, “station chief?” You ask and he hums. You aren’t surprised that they want him back there. From what you’ve heard, he’s a good agent and you know that his job is important to save lives, no matter how much you want him back in Texas. “I - wow. That’s good news.” You half lie, tears stinging in your eyes but you try to remain strong for him.

“It is.” Javier knows that he’s being given a second chance and he wants to redeem himself. Do things the right way. He wants this to show the brass that they were wrong for sending him home and allow him to see this through to completion. “I leave in two days. I’ll call you when I get settled, okay?”

You bite your lip for a moment until you reply, “yeah. Of course. I’ll speak to you soon, Jav.” You muster up a smile so you sound happy for him when you both say goodbye. It’s hard to be happy when you know he’s leaving to go to Colombia for God knows how long but you made an agreement to both continue living your lives if he didn’t come back to Laredo so that’s what you’ll do…continue living your life without him.

****

It’s been twenty-two months since he’s been back in the US. Twenty-two months since he’s seen you and he’s more than a little nervous as he pulls up to the restaurant. He hadn’t called and told you he was coming home, he couldn’t. It’s been three months since he’s called you, caught up chasing the bad guys and figuring out that no one was innocent. He sighs as he throws the truck into park. Wondering if this was a mistake, and if he should bother. There’s only one way to find out, and he shoves the door open so he can go see if you still want him.

You look up from the cash register as the door opens and your jaw drops when you see a ghost of your past. “Javier.” You exhale and step out from behind the bar, brushing yourself down as you walk over to him, “you’re back.” You grin and he nods, “hello, hermosa.” He greets you and you surge forward to wrap your arms around him. “I can’t believe you’re back.” You gasp, breathing him in and reminded of your time together nearly two years ago.

Chuckling, Javi wraps his arms around you and his hug is probably a bit tighter than he would have normally given, but he’s so fucking happy to see you. “Have you been as good as you could be?” He asks jokingly, wondering if you’ve moved on or if you’re still single.

You open your mouth to respond but you hear, "well she's been a good girl until now." You look around Javier's shoulder to see Kyle, your boyfriend of 3 months walking into the restaurant.

You reluctantly push Javi away from you, turning to walk towards Kyle. "Javi. This is Kyle, he's-"

"her boyfriend." Kyle answers for you, curling his arm around you possessively.

Javi tries not to frown at the over aggressive display, but he holds his hand out to shake the other man’s. “Javier Peña.” He offers. “I’ve been out of the country for a couple of years.” He doesn’t want to make waves for you. “Just wanted to catch up with an old friend.”

Kyle nods, shaking his hand a little harder than necessary and you chuckle nervously. "Maybe we can get a drink and catch up properly another time?" You suggest, looking at Kyle who offers you a forced grin, "sure. We can arrange that, baby." His hand slides down to squeeze your ass and you glance around the restaurant until your eyes meet Javi's. "It was good to meet you but this one has work to do." Kyle slaps your ass and you wince a little, nodding towards Javi.

"I better get to work. I'll call you." You promise and Kyle drags you back, "you forgot to kiss me." He complains and pulls you into him so he can kiss you in front of Javier.

The message is heard, loud and clear. He nods and backs away as Kyle seemingly tries to deepen the kiss into some sort of face sucking event. Every instinct that he has developed during his time in the DEA tells him that Kyle is bad news. Although he’s aware that he’s also jealous, so he might be imagining things. Turning around, Javi hates that he missed his opportunity, but he will respect your relationship. He will be your friend and forget that he had hoped to go home with you tonight.

You hate that Kyle feels the need to possess you like that, especially in front of Javier and it makes you question your entire relationship. He’s been so sweet and kind until now, making you feel wanted. Something you haven’t experienced since Javier left and after pining for him for a year and a half, you decided to open yourself up to someone else, not expecting to find someone to be with but you know that Kyle doesn’t make you feel even a third of what Javi does.

Making his way back to the ranch, Javi spends the entire drive feeling sorry for himself. Telling himself that he should have told you how he felt, called more. He sighs and wonders if he would actually hear from you, or if that was a polite brush off. At least you didn’t hate him, that should count for something.

Kyle came back to pick you up after work and you were immediately confused by how cold he is as he drives to his place. You’d arrange to watch a movie at his place earlier and you wish you hadn’t now, that you had driven to work because you want time to process seeing Javier again and you want to call him. “It was nice to see your friend earlier.” Kyle says and you sense his tone.

“Yeah. Javier hasn’t been in town for a couple of years and we met at Danny’s wedding.” You explain and Kyle grips the steering wheel.

“You fuck him?” He asks and you swallow harshly, “it was two years ago. I haven’t seen him since he left to go to Colombia.” You answer, not wanting to lie, and Kyle doesn’t reply. You bite your lip as Kyle pulls into his driveway and you get out, wishing again that you could go home.

Kyle rocks his jaw when he gets out of the car and walks around the hood to take your arm and walk you towards the door. He doesn’t like that fucker at the bar, he smells like a goddamn cop and he doesn’t need no fucking cop snooping around his business or his girl. When you are at his front door, he shoves you against it, getting up in your face. “I don’t fucking want you around him.” He spits, holding your arms tight.”You aren’t fucking him again.”

You wince, “you’re hurting me.”

Kyle scoffs, “you deserve more than that.” He hisses, “fucking that guy.”

You shake your head, “it was two years ago.” You try to wiggle out of his grip, “let go of me.” You plead and Kyle chuckles darkly, letting go of you.

He opens the front door and you rub your upper arms. He locks the door behind him, “you ain’t gonna call him. You ain’t gonna fuck him. I’m gonna teach you a lesson, you little whore. You’ve probably been fucking him the whole time and he’s lying about being gone.” Kyle growls and you shake your head.

“I haven’t seen him for two fucking years!” You yell and Kyle scoffs, “you’re a fucking slut.”

You shake your head again, getting angry, “if I was, I would never leave his bed. He fucked me better than you do.” You chuckle humorlessly, wanting to hurt him like he is hurting you.

Kyle’s face grows dark and he steps back, making you think he’s gonna stalk off but he doesn’t. He growls and his hand comes up to slap you in the face, making you gasp in shock and pain.

“Fucking bitch!” He screams. “No one fucking insults me like that. No one! I’ll show you how I fuck you better.” He threatens, grabbing your arm to start dragging you through the house towards his bedroom. “Fucking slut! After everything I’ve done for you. You’re just gonna fucking leave me? I don’t fucking think so.”

You try to drag yourself away from him, terrified for what he wants to do to you so you tug on your arm, trying to get out of his grip. “Let me go, you motherfucker!” You yell, “fucking let me go!” You scream and he pulls you upright. You take your chance to kick him in the groin, making him howl and let go of you. You shove him while he’s cupping his balls and he falls down. You take the moment to run to the front door, scrambling to unlock it and you manage to get it open, running down the driveway and along the street, screaming for help.

“You bitch!” Kyle chokes out, cupping his balls and squeezing out some tears. “When I get my fucking hands on you, I’m gonna make you pay.” His groin is on fire and he curses you, imagining how he would make you cry for kicking him and humiliating him.

One of the neighbors down the street opens her door and you run up to her, sobbing as you beg for help. “Come in dear. Let’s call the police.” She says, ushering you into her front room and she grabs her phone, calling the police but you shake your head, asking to use her phone.

“I need - I need to call Javi.” You manage through your cries but the woman calls the police. “Please let me - I need to call him.” You plead and she hands you her phone. With shaking hands and through tears, you phone Chucho’s ranch and Javi who answers with a grunted “hello.” You sob at hearing his voice, “Ja-Jav. I- I- I need you.” You choke, unable to speak properly.

Javi had been cleaning the dishes when he had picked up the phone in the kitchen. “Hermosa? What’s wrong? Where are you?” The frying pan is dropped into the sink and he grips the phone tightly, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. He has never heard you sound like that and he doesn’t like it. He’s heard enough scared women before, on the verge of hysteria because of something horrible. “Where are you, I’m coming.”

“I- he- Kyle. He tried- I need you. He - he nearly-” You choke and hand the phone to the kind woman, “can you tell - tell him where - where I am?” You ask her, choking on sobs as the reality of what could’ve happened still hasn’t hit you.

“Is someone with you?” Javi has already grabbed his keys but he needs an address. “Hello? Goddamnit! Hello?”

The woman winces and introduces herself. “Señora Álvarez, señor.” She murmurs before she rattles off her address.

“You tell her I’m on my way.” Javi rushes out. “Tell her I’ll be right there! Stay there! I’m coming.” He slams the phone down and rushes out to the truck. He has no idea what might have happened, but from your panicked voice, it isn’t good and he doesn’t even hesitate to pull his gun out of the glove box as soon as he gets into the truck. Slinging rocks as he shoots down the drive to race across town to you.

You sob when the police arrive, barely able to get the story out when all you want is Javier. You sob, asking them where Javi is and you hear him as he pushes his way into the house, past the police officers and when he kneels in front of you, you surge forward to wrap your arms around his neck.

Softly shushing you, even as he is listening to the police chief tell him what happened, Javi scowls.

That bastard needs to fucking die for laying his hands on you, Javi’s arms tight around your body and he starts to rub your back. “And the bastard denies all of it?” The chief had sent an officer over to Kyle’s house and he had answered the door, telling the officer that you had gotten mad at him and told him that you would ruin his life. It throws your story into question, but Javi believes you. “Hijo de puta.” He groans when the officer nods.

You pull him close and shake your head, “he said - he was going to rape-” You choke out, unable to finish your sentence as you bury your face in Javi’s neck. “He slapped me and tried to drag me in- into the bedroom.”

Jaiv growls and tightens his hold on you, furious that the bastard would try to hurt you. Instinctively, he knows that it was because of him. “Fucking bastard.” He hisses, wishing he had his badge still, he would go kill the motherfucker. Pulling back, he holds your chin in his fingers and tilts your head towards the light. “Your face is swollen.” He looks at the officers. “Photograph this.” He orders, even though he has no authority.

The cops don’t argue, taking photos of your face and your upper arms from where he grabbed you. You manage to calm down enough to give your story to the officers who don’t seem convinced but you just want to go home. Javi thanks the officers and the woman who gave you refuge and you let him guide you out to his truck. “I don’t want to go home.” You admit, terrified that Kyle is going to find you there.

Javi shakes his head. “You aren’t going home.” He promises you. “You're coming home with me.” He explains. “My pop has a ranch.” You know this, but he’s talking to keep your mind occupied. “I can protect you and you’ll be safe from that asshole there.”

You nod, getting into the passenger side and he gets into the drivers side after shutting your door. Your eyes are sore from crying and you feel exhausted now that you’re safe with Javier. “Thank you for coming to get me.” You tell him softly after he starts the engine and begins to drive to his father’s ranch.

“Don’t worry about that.” He reaches over and takes your hand, holding it gently. “Tell me what happened. If you can.” He knows that talking to uniformed cops is very different from a one on one with someone you trust. “What caused this? Tell me at your own pace, hermosa.”

You swallow harshly, trying to gather yourself. You squeeze his hand harder and you inhale deeply. “I- we got back to his place and we were kind of arguing. He didn’t want me seeing you again and accused me of - of fucking you the whole time we’ve been together. Called me a whore and said - said no one insults him because I- I told him- I said that you fucked me better than he does and he - he was furious. His eyes went black and he - he grabbed my arm and tried to drag me to his bedroom. Said I can’t leave him after everything he’s done for me. He wanted to - I - I managed to kick him in the balls and get away from him.” You hiccup as you finish the story.

Javi curses under his breath, furious and ready to kill this asshole. He will call the police chief and see what can be learned about him. He has to have a record, Javi can smell it on him. He brings your hand up to kiss it, squeezing softly. “I will make sure you are safe, hermosa.” He promises. “The ranch is safe and my pop and I will make sure no one comes up that you don’t want to see.” He will make sure his pop keeps his rifle and his handgun on him. “I doubt that pussy will try anything else. He just wanted to prove he was a man. But a man doesn’t hurt a woman.”

You feel safe already with Javi, knowing that you need to call Diana and tell her you need to take a couple of days off. You look out the window as he drives to his father’s ranch and you are scared of Kyle finding you but you trust Javier with your life.

“I’ll let you borrow something to sleep in.” He offers quietly. “And tomorrow I’ll take you to get some of your things.” He knows you will not want to go by yourself and he wouldn’t let you, but you can’t live in his t-shirt and boxers. “I’ll call Diana for you if you want to take a shower.”

You nod, squeezing his hand again and You murmur, “thank you.” When he arrives at his father’s ranch, he escorts you inside and to his room and you sit down on the bed, feeling exhausted. “I’m gonna take a shower if that’s okay?” You ask, wanting that bastard's touch washed off of you.

“Yeah.” Javi nods and opens his door to point across the hall. “Go right in there and I’ll bring you a towel and something to wear, hermosa.” You stand and move to slide by him but he captures your wrist and gives you a serious look. “You’re safe here.” He promises. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

You believe him and you nod, “I know.” You tell him and make your way across the hall after he lets go of your wrist. You turn on the hot water after closing the door and once you’re under the water, you allow yourself to cry, sobbing as the water flows over you. The realization of want nearly happened makes you want to scream and you are so grateful you got yourself away from that asshole.

Javi hates hearing you sob. Once you had closed the door, he had gone to his pop and explained the situation. Chucho had growled that anyone coming onto the ranch would be met with a gun, a promise Javi could take seriously. He called Diana and explained that you were okay, but that you were going to be taking off for a few days. Also let her know that if that Kyle bastard came into the restaurant, she was to call him immediately. Once those tasks are done, he gathers up a towel and his softest clothes to set on the toilet for you.

You finish showering and see the clothes on the toilet. You dress in Javi’s clothes and you breathe in the scent of him and the detergent he uses. When you open the door, he’s sitting on the end of his bed and you walk across the hallway to him. “Can you stay with me tonight?” You ask, wanting him beside you to feel safe.

He watches for a moment before he nods. “I’ll stay with you.” He murmurs quietly. He knows this isn’t a sexual request, you don’t want him to fuck you. You want the physical comfort of someone you trust keeping you safe after a bad ordeal. He leans over and kisses your forehead. “I’ll get ready for bed. Do you want some water or are you hungry?”

You nod, “water please.” Javi nods and stands up, pulling the covers back for you and you get in, watching him as he unbuttons his shirt and you are immediately comforted by his presence. He disappears after stripping down to his boxers and he comes back into the room with a bottle of water for you.

Javi hands you the water and caresses your cheek gently before he steps across the hall to brush his teeth. He would normally have a cigarette, but he’s going to just forgo that, not wanting to leave you alone for too long with your thoughts. Finishing up quickly and slipping into the bedroom and closing the door, he sighs softly when he sees you still sitting at the end of the bed. “What side do you want, hermosa?”

You glance behind you, “what side do you sleep on?” You ask and when you see the glasses he would never admit he uses to read, you know he sleeps that side. “I’ll sleep on this side.” You gesture to the side with the empty nightstand. He nods and you stand up to slide under the covers on that side. You watch Javi get in and he pulls the covers higher over you. “Can you- can you hold me?”

“Of course, hermosa.” He hadn’t assumed you wanted him to hold you, but he had expected it. Opening his arms, he lets you curl against his chest and then closes them around you. Holding you tight to him and rubbing your back. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs quietly. “I wish that this didn’t happen. Especially because of me.”

You shake your head against his chest, “it doesn’t matter. He- it wasn’t your fault. He was gonna do it one day. Whether it’s you or another man that looks at me the wrong way. He was - I shouldn’t have dated him. I just - I did it because I didn’t think you were gonna come back. You stopped calling and - shit. I just - I thought he was nice at first. This is my fault.”

Guilt settles over him like a weight and he sighs. “I’m sorry.” He apologizes. “I got caught up trying to close that fucking case. I was working nonstop and when I did think about calling, it was way too late to wake you up.” It’s no excuse, but he wants you to know he didn’t just stop thinking about you. “He’s a drug dealer.” He tells you. “Just a gut feeling, but I think that’s what he’s going to end up being.”

You lean back to look at Javi, “a drug dealer? I- I never - he never told me anything. He said he had a security business and that’s why he had men coming to his house and - God, I’m so stupid. I should’ve known.” You believe Javier, knowing he can read people like a book.

“Don’t worry about that.” Javi shakes his head, his eyes dark. “It’s better that you didn’t know. I don’t have proof yet, he just gives me that feeling.” He admits.

You bury your face back in his chest, breathing him in and you close your eyes. You’re exhausted and you’re back in his arms. You want to sleep and forget all about this nightmare of a night. “Wanna sleep.” You murmur into his skin.

“Go to sleep, hermosa.” He hums. “I’m right here.” He continues to rub your back softly as he listens to your breathing start to even out as you fall asleep.

****

The morning sun shines into the bedroom through the gap in the curtains and you wake up, momentarily forgetting that anything happened last night, just remembering that you’re in Javi’s arms again. You snuggle into him, throwing your leg over his hip when you feel his morning wood poking into you and you gasp.

Your gasp wakes Javi up, grunting and opening his eyes as he looks over to you. “Everything okay?” His voice is gravely and he clears his throat. Looking around as he blinks a few times and then back at you. “Nightmare?” The sun is starting to rise, but it’s still early and he pulls you closer. “‘S’okay.” He grunts. “Go back to sleep.”

You rest your head back on his chest, wanting him to erase the touch of that asshole. You press closer, shifting your hips to grind against him, “need you.” You murmur, hoping Javier still feels the same way you do.

Javi’s eyes flutter open and he twitches against your hip. “You sure?” He asks, hand sliding down and under your t-shirt to rub your bare back. “You want to? Or you think I want to?”

You whimper, pushing yourself impossibly closer. "I want to. I need to. need - I haven't - he wasn't you. I still - I want you." You finish, getting flustered at the way he caresses your back, "please baby."

He understands what you mean. He had slept with someone as soon as he had figured out the assignment was basically chasing his tail. He hadn’t felt good when he woke up in her bed and he hadn’t even really enjoyed himself. He hadn’t slept with anyone else the entire time he was there. “I want you too.” He promises, hand sliding down to your ass and he squeezes. “Fuck you want to ride or you want me to roll you over?”

You grind against him, “want you to roll me over. I need to feel all of you, want to feel the weight of you, baby.” You confess, sliding your hand down his chest and into his boxers, wrapping your fingers around his hard cock to pump him a few times.

Javi groans, and rocks his hips into your fist, enjoying how you don't seem to be put off by a man's touch. He's glad that bastard didn't manage to get you back to his room and he's proud of you for being so strong. He shifts, pushing your hand away as he can roll over and take you onto your back. "You want me to make you forget?" He asks, kissing your chin.

You nod, knowing you shouldn’t want to be touched, but this is Javier. The man who’s shown you nothing but respect and has kept you safe every time you’ve been with him. He told you about Helena and the other girls. A bad man wouldn’t try and help them. You trust him with everything you are. You tilt your head to press your lips against his. “I want you to touch me. I want you to make me forget ever knowing him.” You plead softly, caressing his back as he pushes his shirt up your body.

“I can do that, hermosa.” He promises, pulling your shirt over your head as you lean up and tosses it aside. His pop won’t be up anytime soon so his mouth follows you back to the bed, wrapping around a nipple and sucking like he is trying to get milk. His fingers dive under his boxers, assuming that this jerk off hasn’t made you cum a lot. He’ll change that and you’ll only think about him for the next few hours.

You moan when his fingers find your clit and you have missed him so much. It’s like a part of you is returned as he kisses along your chest to take your other nipple into his mouth and his fingers rub your clit. “Fuck. I have missed you so much.” You sigh, “so damn much baby.”

Humming, he continues to rub your clit while he sucks and bites at your breasts. Making your nipples hard and puffy from the attention, he flicks his tongue over the hardened numb and chuckles when you gasp his name. “Do you want me to lick your pussy?” He asks, looking up at you. “Or do you just want me to fuck you?”

You shake your head, breathless already. “I need you inside of me. Please. Don’t want to go another moment without you.” You beg and reach down to squeeze his cock again, using your feet to push his boxers down to his thighs. “I need you, baby.” You whine, getting a little desperate as he takes his time still rubbing your clit.

He still has to get his boxers off of you so he can fuck you. Leaning back onto his knees. He drags the material down your legs and pushes them up into the air so he can pull them off and then spread your legs around him. “Fuck, dreamed about this pussy for two fucking years.” He confesses, wrapping his hand around his cock and pumping himself.

You aren’t stupid enough to think he hasn’t been with other women but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You reach for him to drag him back down onto you and you bring his mouth to yours. “No one could ever compare to you. No one.” You promise him, “dreamed about you too. All the time. You wanna use a condom? I didn’t - twice with him and he used a condom.” You don’t wanna talk about that motherfucker but you want him to feel comfortable.

“Trust you.” He promises, leaning over you and pressing his lips to yours. “Hermosa.” He whispers your name as he lifts a leg onto his hip, and notches his cock at your entrance. “Look at me.” He orders as he starts to push inside you.

Your eyes meet his and you inhale sharply when he starts to push inside of you. Your eyes don’t leave his and you reach out to caress his shoulders, loving the way he pushes slowly inside of you, stretching you out. “Oh baby.” You sigh, tilting your head back once he’s fully inside of you, unable to keep your eyes open when he is finally inside you again.

“Shit.” Your ex was stupid, insane to allow petty jealousy to ruin a relationship with you. He was grateful, because it meant that he was right here with you, able to touch you again. Even if you didn’t deserve the abuse you had been dealt. He rocks his hips shallowly, kissing your neck and lips until he feels you relax and knows he can move.

He starts to move inside of you and it’s like you’re home. You whimper and wrap your legs around him, pushing him deeper inside of you and you moan softly. No words are spoken as he moves inside of you, just soft whimpers and moans and you caress his back, unable to speak with your heart pounding in your chest.

Javi holds you tight, rocking into you at a pace that is less vigorous, more soft and sweet, but there is a snap to his hips when he lunges forward. Enjoying the way you feel under him, he reaches down to rub your clit as he fucks you.

You cry out softly as he rubs your clit, making your walls flutter around him. “Baby. Oh fuck.” You gasp, clamping down on his cock as he pushes deep and the emotions overwhelm you as tears stream down your cheeks while you clamp down on his cock.

Javi closes his eyes, dropping his forehead on yours as he works you through your orgasm. “That’s it, hermosa. So good for me. So perfect.”

You kiss him, soft and slow as he works you through your orgasm and he thrusts a little harder to seek his own climax. “Please Jav. Cum for me.” You plead, caressing his cheeks as his lips hover against yours, his grunts pushed into your mouth.

Javi keeps his eyes on you, aware that you could change your mind at any second, might still, because of Kyle. Watching you as he gets closer with everything and he groans out your name only a minute later as he stiffens above you.

You close your eyes as he cums inside of you, loving how it feels when he paints your walls with his hot seed. He works himself through it and you caress his chest, feeling his heart thumping beneath your palm. You can’t stop yourself when you confess to him breathlessly, “I love you.” Words you should’ve told him two years ago but didn’t because he was leaving.

Javi closes his eyes, knowing that you might not mean it, but he savors the moment. “Te amo.” He murmurs softly, nudging his nose against yours. “I should have told you. Should have brought you with me to Colombia. Thought about asking you, but I didn’t want you to feel like you had to give up your life.”

You sigh, hating how much time you’ve lost together. “I would’ve followed you anywhere but we both had lives to lead. Things to do. I would’ve given up everything for you if you had asked me.” You admit softly, “I loved you so much back then and I still love you. I’m yours, always have been since that moment we met at Danny’s wedding.

Javi hums and he kisses you softly. “Don’t worry, hermosa.” He murmurs. “We will work everything out. I’ve quit the DEA, I’m back for good.” He had wanted to tell you last night, but he hadn’t wanted to make waves with Kyle at the restaurant and then after you called it, it wasn’t the time.

You smile, pleased to hear that he's back for good. You want him to stay. "I want you to stay, baby. I want to be with you." You say as you snuggle into his chest after he shifts onto his back. "I love you." You murmur, caressing his skin.

****

“Why am I so fucking nervous?” Javi grumbles, checking his bow tie for the tenth time since he’s put it on. “The wedding is done, we’ve said our vows.” He turns to you and can’t help but smile at how beautiful you look in your wedding gown. The little church wedding had been a lot smaller than his first wedding, but the reception seemed to include the entire town. He strides over to you and pulls you against him. “No regrets?”

You chuckle, sliding your hands down his chest to adjust his jacket label. “Never. No regrets, Peña.” You promise and cup his cheek, “why are you nervous? Trying to escape already?” You tease, caressing his cheek.

“Never.” He promises and you lean in to kiss him softly when Diana comes over with Chucho.

“Well, looks like my match making skills have come true again.” Diana winks at her brother in law, “well you got two Peña men married off.” Chucho winks and you raise your eyebrows at Diana.

“Peña men take a special woman to tame them.” Diana explains and you shake your head, “no taming this one.” You giggle, knowing Javier will always be his own person and you wouldn’t want him to be anything other than himself.

“You tamed me.” Javi pouts and leans in to kiss you softly. “You did. That’s why I decided that I was tired of just having sleepovers.” His fingers brush the wedding band he had just slid on your finger. “Now that the pictures are done, you ready to go out to our own reception?” He asks, sending you a sly wink. “Might have to take you to the bathroom again.”

You giggle, leaning in to kiss his jaw like you did while you were dancing. “Now you definitely will be taking me to the bathroom.” You murmur into his skin and he groans softly, “yes, Señora Peña.” He says and you love hearing that. Diana’s match making skills are second to none and despite yours and Javi’s efforts to keep it casual, you couldn’t resist making it forever.

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

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wannab-urs · 4 months

Text

Title: Under Your Skin

Pairing: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x Javier Peña x F!Reader

Summary: You’ve worked on Chucho’s ranch since you were 15 years old, grew up with Javi, loved Javi… He comes back after nearly 20 years to find you hooking up with a certain former secret agent. He’s jealous, for sure, but of who?

Warnings: mdni, 18+ post season 3 of Narcos, AU where Jack gets kicked out of the Statesmen instead of burgered, Javi being bi and repressed, Jack being a bisexual slut, SMUT, MMF dynamics, oral (f receiving), javi being a dick, oral (m receiving), javi tries to hit jack, gay kissing (!!!), making out, face sitting, reader kinda gets used and likes it, nipple play, throat fucking, Eiffel tower moment, brief f masturbation, brief m masturbation, pet names (sugar, cowboy, baby, hermosa), truly unreasonable amounts of cursing i’m sorry i talk like this, and also unreasonable amounts of southern phrasing, again sorry I talk like this, unprotected PIV, creampie, cum eating, teasing Javi, actually 90% porn with like a little backstory, kind of enemies to lovers, they’re all ranch hands technically, also they’re all romantically into each other but also javi is dumb and jack can’t believe anyone would want him for more than sex haha oops :) WC: 3.5k

A/N: This is my @pedrostories Secret Santa gift to the lovely @javier-pena!! I hope it’s everything you wanted ahhhhh. I hope it's ok that this has nothing to do with Christmas and really doesn't even take place in the winter. I saw that you like Whiskey and Javi P, cowboys , and poly fics and like... could not resist. I tried my hand at enemies to lovers, a trope I love to read, but I think it came out pretty mild. I am so excited for you to read this!!!!! Happy Holidays ❤️

credits: dividers by @saradika // Thanks for the beta @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin, @beskarandblasters, and @idolatrybarbie

Jack Daniels Masterlist | Javier Peña Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

Working on a ranch isn’t easy, and it usually isn’t even all that fun. But it does have its perks. One such perk is currently on his knees with his face buried in your pussy. One of your legs is over Jack’s shoulder and you use it to pull him even closer, grinding your clit on his hooked nose. Just as you’re about to come, the door to the tack room slams open. You and Jack jump apart and you quickly start stuffing your legs back into your jeans.

“For FUCKS sake, Daniels. This is the third time this week. Get back to fucking work.” Javier Peña, face red and chest heaving, looks like he just caught his girlfriend cheating on him. “And you. You should fucking know better.”

You fasten the button of your jeans and smirk at Javi. “Know better than what, Javi?”

“Than to fuck around with some asshole like Daniels.”

“He’s nicer than you,” you snark before storming out, making sure to slam your shoulder into Javi on the way out the door. He ruined a perfectly good orgasm.

You’ve worked on Chucho’s ranch since you were 15 years old, taking care of the horses at first before graduating to fixing the fences and caring for the cattle as well. You and Javi had been best friends before he ran off to Colombia, spending every day after school and every second of daylight in the summer together on his father’s ranch.

You had been in the back pew the day he never showed up for his and Lorraine’s wedding. You like to think you had something to do with that. He clearly, clearly, wanted out of Laredo, wanted nothing to do with the wife and 2.5 kids and picket fence life he was barrelling toward.

His bachelor party was just the two of you drinking in the hayloft, you begging him to do what he’d always wanted to and him going on about duty and obligation. You’d almost kissed him that night, but stopped yourself. He was getting married the next day, for fuck’s sake. You’re glad he listened to you, in the end, even if he disappeared without so much as a goodbye.

In the years he was gone, you never really forgot about him. The truth was that he had been your first love, but you’d never worked up the courage to tell him, and then he was getting married and then he was gone.

Jack looked so much like Javi that when he first showed up on the ranch, you asked if he was Javi’s cousin or something, a long lost Peña. He assured you he was from Kentucky and had no relation to the Peñas. Jack had been some sort of law enforcement, and the reason he was here on a ranch in Texas was a mystery to everyone but him. There were rumors he was fired, banned from law enforcement altogether, but nothing could be confirmed. He doesn’t seem like the type to have a bad past, but you never really know.

Jack is charming in a loud, overly confident sort of way. He’s smart as a whip and funny to boot. He’s a damn good time and he’s never asked anything of you but a good fuck and better company. It’s really more than you could have hoped for with Javi gone and no other prospects in town… that you had any interest in anyway.

Now, nearly a couple decades after he left, Javi is back working for his dad. He won’t talk about Colombia, even though everyone calls him a hero. You’d think he’d want to brag about his accomplishments down there, but he reminds you of war vets, the way he shuts down when anyone brings it up.

He’s different now than the old Javi, your Javi, was. He’s surly, quick to snap at people, smokes like a freight train, and never does anything but sit in the bunkhouse and drink. You think you could handle all the change if he’d just talk to you.

You were so close as kids, but now it’s like you don’t know him at all. The bright, funny, hot-headed kid you knew is gone and some asshole has replaced him. He barely speaks to you at all, but he treats Jack even worse – insinuating Jack can’t do his job, calling him an asshole at any given opportunity, even up and leaving a room when the man walks in. It’s ridiculous and you can’t figure out why he’s acting like this. Jack has never so much as looked at Javi sideways, even after all the harsh treatment.

You head to your room in the bunkhouse, all your work taken care of for the day already. It’s not like you were neglecting your job to hook up with Jack, as much as Javi might like to think that. You push open the door to your room and find Jack lounging in your bed, shirtless and barefoot.

“Hey there, pretty girl,” Jack smiles at you, his eyes scrunching at the corners. God he’s cute.

“Hi, cowboy. Made yourself at home, did you?” You start stripping out of your work clothes, not caring about Jack’s presence. Nothing he hasn’t seen before. Jack gets off the bed and pulls your mostly naked body into his chest, nuzzling your neck.

“We got interrupted earlier.”

“Fucking asshole. He’s just mad he’s not getting any.”

“May be more right than you know, sugar.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him but shrug off the comment, dropping to your knees and working at Jack’s belt buckle.

Javi hates that son of a bitch, he really does. He’s always sneaking off work to fuck whatever willing idiot falls for his charming smile and his stupid broad shoulders and his long bowlegs.

He can’t believe you of all people fell for it, keep falling for it. Sure he’s pretty, but the guy is an asshole. Two days ago, he caught him in the store room with his hand down Jose’s pants. The guy is a slut, plain and simple. You’re too fucking good for him.

Javi isn’t completely sure why Jack gets under his skin so bad. At least not in any way he’ll admit to himself or anyone else. Jack is charming without being sleazy, smart, good at his job, funny. There were rumors that Jack had done bad things in his past, though there’s nothing about the man that indicates he had, aside from his silence on the topic. Something Javi can’t honestly hold against him, considering his own refusal to open up. There’s no real reason for Javi to hate him, but he does. Everything the other man does sets him into a rage, his face hot, chest heaving, fists clenching. He wants to put his fist through a wall.

He’s not quite sure where he went wrong with you. Sure, leaving for nearly 20 years does a number on a friendship, but he’s pretty sure it shouldn’t be this bad. You haven’t done anything wrong, other than fuck around with Jack, but every time he speaks to you now it’s a biting remark. A criticism of your work ethic, your choice in bed fellows, even your outfits. It’s like he has no control over his own damn mouth.

Javi knows he’s in the wrong, knows he should apologize for his comment earlier. He heads to the bunkhouse to find you. Your room is two doors down and across the hall from his. Javi doesn’t bother knocking, pushing the door open.

“Hey, do you have a sec–” Javi freezes in your doorway, catching an eyeful of you with Jack fucking Daniels’ cock in your mouth. Jack catches his eye and fucking winks at him. Javi ignores the twitch in his jeans and closes the door, stalking down the hall to his own room and slamming his door behind him.

Twice in one day? Seriously? He takes back the apology before he can ever offer it to you. This is just ridiculous. What do you see in Jack that you don’t see in him? And that’s the crux of it, isn’t it? Javi wants you for himself and he’s pissed that Jack got to you while you he was off not catching Escobar.

There’s a knock on his door and then, “Peña?” Fucking Jack Daniels.

“Piss off, Whiskey. Not in the mood.”

Jack opens the door anyway, steps inside and shuts it behind him. Javi takes his disheveled hair, still bare chest and feet. The man hadn’t even bothered to button his jeans. Javi is on his feet in the other man’s face in seconds. “I said piss off, Daniels. Something about that you don’t understand?”

“No need to be hostile, Peña, I just wanted to check on you. Stormed out of there pretty quick.” Jack doesn’t back up an inch.

“Forgive me if I don’t want to see her with your cock down her throat.”

“Why, Jav? You like her or something?” Javi shoves Jack until his back hits the wall, hard. “Or is it because you’re afraid you’ll like it too much?” Javi sees red. He swings on Jack, but Jack catches his fist and pulls the other man into his chest.

“Fuck you,” Javi growls it, lips almost grazing Jack’s, their mouths are so close together.

“That an offer?” Jack smirks. If Jack didn’t know better, he’d think he heard Javi’s breath hitch in his throat at that. Before he can wonder if Javi is gonna try to hit him again, Javi crashes their lips together.

Jack drops Javi’s arm and grabs the collar of his shirt in both hands instead. Jack licks into Javi’s mouth, slots a thigh between Javi’s and feels the other man’s cock getting hard against his leg. Jack walks him back toward the bed, tugging at the buttons of Javi’s shirt.

Suddenly, the door opens and Javi flies back from Jack as if he’d shoved him, sprawling on the bed. Jack doesn’t even turn to look at you, just stares Javi down.

“Hey, I heard…” you trail off, taking in the scene in front of you. Jack standing in the middle of the room, looking even more disheveled than the state you’d left him in. Javi spread out on the bed, shirt half untucked and half unbuttoned, his dick clearly hard in his jeans. “What am I looking at here?”

“Nothing,” Javi spits out.

“Me and Jav had a little fight, but we kissed and made up, Sugar.” Jack winks at you and you feel your cheeks heat, feel a flutter of arousal in your belly.

“Oh really?” You run your tongue along your top teeth, trying and failing to contain a smirk.

Javi furrows his brow at you. Do you sound… excited? Jack glances back and forth between the two of you.

“Why don’t you close the door?” Jack asks you, his voice low. You kick the door closed behind you and walk over to Javi. You take his face in your hands and tug him toward you until he’s sitting up on the bed.

“Close your mouth ‘fore flies get in, baby.” He snaps his jaw shut and you press a chaste kiss to his lips. “This okay?” Javi nods slowly. You climb onto the bed, straddling Javi’s thighs, and kiss him again, deeper and longer than the first.

Jack makes his way across the room and settles on his knees behind Javi, gripping his hips and pressing his lips behind his ear.

“How about this? Is this okay?” Jack whispers.

“Y-yeah,” Javi honest to god stutters. This is not where he thought this was going. He doesn’t even like men. Not usually.

Javi kisses you like his fucking life depends on it. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, tangles his own with yours. Drags his mouth down your jaw line, your throat, leaves a mark on your collarbone. You finish unbuttoning Javi’s shirt and Jack pulls it off him and tosses it on the floor before he sucks his own mark into Javi’s neck and Javi bites back a moan at the feeling. He buries his face in the crook of your neck.

“I um- I don’t really-” Javi’s face burns hot. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing.

“It’s alright, I gotcha.” Jack runs his hands up and down Javi’s sides, soothing him. “Let’s start with something you’re familiar with, huh? Or at least I hope you are.” Jack slides off the bed, silently communicating with you what his plan is.

You push Javi until he’s on his back in the center of the bed. You stand up and strip your panties and t-shirt off before you crawl up his body, dropping kisses on the soft curve of his stomach, his chest, his throat. You settle your knees on either side of his head, your soaked pussy hovering just over his face. This he can do, he thinks.

He grabs your thighs and licks a stripe from your core to your clit. You moan, one hand braced on the wall in front of you and the other fisted in his hair. He pulls you flush with his mouth and starts moving your hips for you, making you ride his face. He thrusts his tongue in and out of you while you grind on his nose, much like you had Jack’s earlier. They’re both so fucking beautiful, fuck.

Jack gets situated between Javi’s spread thighs and takes in the sight of you straddling his face. It might be the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen. Your head thrown back in ecstasy, Javi’s strong arms pulling you back and forth on his face.

Jack palms Javi through his jeans and he hears him moan into your skin. Jack strips his own jeans off, then drags Javi’s down far enough to free his cock. Jack’s mouth waters at the sight. Javi is thick, long, uncut. Fuckin’ gorgeous. He sucks the tip of Javi’s cock into his mouth, savoring the salty taste of his precum. Javi lets out a deep, muffled groan straight into your core and it sends you over the edge. Your cries only encourage Jack more and he takes Javi to the root, bobbing his head up and down the man’s length.

Javi holds you to his face while he works you through your orgasm. He finally lets you go, and you fall to the side to catch your breath and shake off the aftershocks.

Javi slides both hands into Jack’s hair, thrusting lightly into Jack’s mouth. Jack reaches a hand between his own legs and strokes himself while he lets Javi use his throat. You just came, but the sight of the two men together has your cunt clenching around nothing. You drop your hand to your clit and rub circles in time to Javi’s thrusts.

Javi pulls Jack off him abruptly. “Fuck- you’re really good at that.”

“I know,” Jack smirks at Javi, his voice rough.

“I’d really like to come in her tight little cunt though, instead of your mouth.” Javi looks over to you, eyes full of lust. “If that’s okay?”

“More than okay, baby.” You shoo the boys off the bed and lay across it with your head hanging off the edge. Jack moves to stand by your head and slips the head of his cock between your open lips. Javi feels a twinge of jealousy at the way you both seem to know exactly what the other wants without saying a word aloud. But then you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer to you and he lets it go. If this is the only time Javi gets to have you, he’s not going to waste it being jealous of the guy who just sucked him off.

Javi drags his cock through your soaked folds. “So wet for us, baby.” Javi groans as he pushes inside you, slowly sliding in to the hilt. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Jack cradles your head in one hand while he shallowly fucks your throat, playing with your tits with his free hand. He tweaks your left nipple and you moan around his cock. Every thrust from Javi pushes you further down Jack’s length, forcing him to fuck your throat. You’ve never been used like this before, like some sort of proxy for two men to fuck each other, but you fucking love it. You feel close to coming again already, and no one has touched your clit in minutes.

Jack pulls Javi to him and crashes their mouths together. Javi lets Jack plunder his mouth for a moment before sucking on the other man’s tongue, drawing a moan from the cowboy’s throat. He may have never kissed a man, but he’s been with enough women to manage that.

The two men sync up, thrusting into your holes at the same time and you feel like you’re ascending to another fucking plane of existence. There are no thoughts in your head except for Javi and Jack and how fucking amazing you feel. And, briefly, the thought of them both stuffed in your core, stuffing you fuller than you’ve ever been. You clench at that thought, and Javi has enough presence of mind to drop his hand to your mound, rubbing messy circles on your clit.

Your body tenses, back arching as you get closer and closer to the edge, which only serves to open your throat up more for Jack. Javi grabs your hips with both hands and starts pulling you onto his cock, hitting your g-spot every time. Suddenly, your entire body tenses and your pussy flutters around Javi’s thick cock. Your vision blacks out as your eyes roll into the back of your head, coming harder than you ever have before.

Jack comes down your throat with absolutely no warning, too lost in Javi’s mouth on his and your mouth around his cock to say a word. You grab his hips and hold him deep in your throat, swallowing around him. The force of his orgasm knocks him forward on the bed, hands planted on either side of your hips and face buried in the crook of Javi’s neck as he paints your throat.

Javi thrusts into you a few more times before his hips still, flush with yours. He comes deep inside you for what feels like forever, his cum spilling out of you and dripping onto the bed.

He pulls out of you slowly, dropping a kiss to your thigh before he goes to get a towel to clean you up. When he comes back, he finds you with your legs thrown over Jack’s shoulders, the man eating Javi’s cum out of your cunt. Javi’s spent dick gives a valiant twitch at the sight.

“Guess I didn’t need the towel then?” Javi jokes, tossing it onto the bedside table and climbing back onto the bed. Jack sucks your clit into his mouth one last time and pulls off with a pop.

“Guess not,” Jack smirks. You and Jack settle in beside Javi, Jack pulling the man’s head to his chest and you resting your head on Javi’s torso. You all sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“You’re not uh-” Javi closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “You’re not gonna tell my old man I-”

“That you like boys?” you snicker.

“Not foolin’ anyone in those tight little jeans you wear, Jav.”

Javi presses his fingers into his eyelids and takes another deep breath. “Guys I’m serious.”

“Of course. We won’t tell anyone. Not til you’re ready.” You lean up and kiss his cheek before nuzzling back into Javi’s tummy.

“So you gonna tell her, or am I?” Jack looks like a kid in a candy store.

You sit up quickly. “Tell me what?”

“Don’t–” Javi tries to plead with Jack.

“Sugar, he tried to hit me for messing around with you,” Jack interrupts. “Think he might have a crush.”

“What the fuck, man?” Javi’s brow furrows so deep you think it might get stuck that way.

Jack ignores him and addresses you, “He’s always starin’ at you and checking up on you and asking you for shit he can damn well get himself.”

“Javi, is it true?”

Javi looks up at the ceiling as if he’s praying for God to have mercy on him.

“Yeah, hermosa. It’s true. Lo- Liked you since I was a kid.”

You smile so wide it hurts and wrap your arms around Javi, pulling him to you for another long, deep kiss. “Javi, baby, I was in love with you before you ever even got with Lorraine. And I never stopped loving you. Jack was just a stand-in, until he wasn’t.” You look over at Jack with a wince. “Sorry, Jack. No offense?”

“None taken, sugar.” Jack smiles good-naturedly and kisses you on the forehead. “Could we do this again sometime? Or are y’all cuttin’ me out of the deal now?”

“You’re not going anywhere, cowboy. Javi likes you too.”

“Wait really?” Jack seems genuinely surprised.

Javi drops his head into his hands and groans. “I need a fucking cigarette.”

Oh and here's a silly little moodboard thing I made

#pedrostoriesgift23 #Javier Peña #Javi P fics #Javier Peña fanfiction #Narcos fanfiction #Jack Daniels #Jack Daniels fics #Jack Daniels fanfiction #Agent Whiskey #Kingsman: The Golden Circle fanfiction #Agent Whiskey fics #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedrostories

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creedslove · 9 months

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KEEPING YOUR PICTURE 💋

Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: Javi sees you going a little crazy over your ex and he tries to make you feel better

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of bad relationships, mentions of cheating, javier peña (because he is a trigger warning himself)

A/N: besties, this is just a short silly drabble that came to me because I actually dreamed of that, lol!

0.8k words

"I hope you know I can have you arrested for that, cariño" Javi's voice startled you as he took a step closer and lit up a cigarette.

He was the last person you expected to see at that hour, but there he was, having a smoke and wondering what the hell you were doing.

You couldn't sleep that night, not after the news you got, and you tried several times to get rid of the annoying pang that grew in your chest, however, the more you tried not thinking of it, the more you thought of it and that was bothering you to no end so you thought of the most illogical idea that could possibly cross someone's mind: you went out in the street in the middle of the night, grabbed one of the trash cans outside, dragged it to the patio of your apartment complex, started a small fire inside the can and threw it into the flames all of the painful memories that troubled your sleep and disturbed your heart.

And of course that working with Javier wasn't enough, you had to be his neighbor too, door to door, and not only that, he had to be up in the middle of the night to watch your mentally unstable horror show.

He could've made fun of it, he could've made a cheeky comment, but instead, he just stood there, curiously watching what you were doing as he took some puffs of his cigarette.

"You can try to arrest me, I may not be an agent but I have my DEA privileges" you winked at him with a sad smile and watched as Javi took a step closer and finally watched what was in your hands. He saw the photographs you held and looked at you

"That's the bastard who broke your heart?" You nodded and he hummed, taking the pictures into his own hands and watched them carefully "I'm guessing you are burning them down? Lorraine did the same when I left her at the altar" he smiled sadly and earned a chuckle from you

"Well, maybe you and my ex could have a drink together and exchange life experiences…"

Javi gave you a stinky eye and shook his head "I was a dick, but I was also immature as fuck, barely had left highschool and thought I was adult enough to get married. Your ex, on the other hand, was just a dick, because he couldn't see how lucky he was to have a wonderful woman like yourself and decided to change you for some whore" he shrugged and a blush spread through your cheeks. Javier Peña considered you a wonderful woman? You hadn't really thought that was possible, well, Javier had flirted with you and hinted at taking you back to his apartment, but he did this to every woman he saw, so you figured it wasn't a big deal.

"Cariño, you told me what he did, he cheated and deceived and he got the other girl pregnant, didn't he?" His thumb stroked your cheek gently as you nodded, looking into his eyes

"And after he said he would never marry me because he just didn't do marriages, he married his bitch" you groaned "and that's not it, guess where they're coming on their honeymoon?"

"Colombia?" He raised his eyebrow and you nodded

"Let me guess… they aren't going to Cartagena or any other beautiful place, they're coming here?" You nodded again and Javi licked his lips

"That's cruel" he said "tell you what, you let me know when they're coming and they will get a cop visit" he suggested it and made you scoff "would you really harass innocent civilians in order to protect me?"

Javi took another step closer, this time placing his hand on your waist and pulling you closer

"For you, I would yeah… now, instead of burning these pics, why don't you give me them? I will cut out your shitty ex boyfriend from them and keep the rest to myself…"

"The rest as in… my pictures? Why would you keep them?"

"Because you are too pretty to just burn it down, I'd take better care of the pics, cariño, just like I would take better care of you" he winked and you laughed again, Javi was a true womanizer, he just had whoever he wanted, and yet, it never seemed to work on you.

"Why didn't you accept when I asked you out, cariño? Were you afraid I'd play with your feelings?"

"You didn't ask me out, Javi, you invited me over for drinks and cigarettes which translates into sex…"

"That doesn't mean I wouldn't take good care of you, hermosa…"

Your hands rested over Javi's and you smiled big "yeah? Prove it"

And Javi pulled you for a kiss, a deep, intense one, where your lips wouldn't leave his even if someone forced you to.

Your whole body shook and it just felt right to be in his arms, it was a warm, soothing and intoxicating embrace. In his arms nothing else matter but you and him and you moaned disappointed the moment he broke the kiss, his fingers gently placing a strand of hair behind your ear, as he smirked

"See? Told you I could take care of you, cariño"

____

A/N: Besties, I know it wasn't great, but I had a dream about that lol, and I thought I should put it into paper. Also, I'm working on the epilogue of Deserve It, it's just going slower than I thought... 🌹❤️

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thetriumphantpanda · 1 year

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Let Me Love You | Javier Peña (One Shot)

Javier Peña has been the bane of your existence since you arrived to work for the ambassador. When you find yourself at a loose end following an altercation in the street on your way home, Javier is the only person you could turn to which turns your evening into something you'd never dreamed of.

Pairing | Javier Peña x Reader

Warnings | Smut, oral sex (F receiving), Protected PIV sex, descriptions of physical assault/robber, alcohol consumption but nothing else I can think of.

Word Count | 5.2K

Authors Note | Been holed up in bed this weekend rewatching Narcos and this is the result. I hope you like it! Like, Reblogs and feedback are my lifeblood so please let me know if you enjoy this! Just a warning that I am very high on painkillers and this hasn't been proofread so apologies for any spelling mistakes.

Javier Peña wasn’t used to rejection. Whether he liked it or not he was the epitome of a ladies’ man and had no issue in getting whichever woman he wanted that night into his bed. That was until you came bounding into his life with your apathy and disdain towards him. What he should have done was leave well alone but if there was anything Javier enjoyed it was a challenge and you had become a very personal one to him.

You’d been an assistant to Ambassador Noonan for a few months now – everyone back at home in El Paso had been so proud when you’d beaten everyone else for the role in Colombia, it’s the only time you’d ever seen your father cry. His little girl, all grown up and off to play with the big guns at an overseas posting.

Colombia had been a culture shock, there was no getting around it. It was busy and loud and all sorts of colourful that you weren’t used to but in the best way possible. When you phoned home each Sunday to catch up with your parents you could feel the desire to go back to your old life fading a little.

The only aspect of your job you weren’t fond of was Javier Peña. Almost immediately one arrival he’d made it his personal endeavor to conquer you as another office romance. Almost all the office girls had filled you in on his reputation as the DEA’s resident womanizer and you’d done everything possible in your power to avoid becoming just another notch on his bedpost.

He hadn’t made it easy for you though. It didn’t help that he was just your type. Tall and handsome, with dark brown eyes that pierced right through your own whenever he spoke to you. You’d learnt from the girl who sat on the desk next to you that he was also from Texas and the rumor was that before coming to Colombia he’d jilted his soon-to-be wife on their wedding day.

“You know he’s got eyes for you, right?” She’d said one afternoon a few weeks ago when Javier had tried to get you to shift the ambassador’s entire schedule around so he could present new intelligence.

“I don’t care, miel,” Was what you’d replied, using your limited Spanish to call her honey, the pet name you’d fallen on for each other in the short months you’d worked together, “I worked too hard to get here to become just another of the girls Agent Peña has slept with.”

“Girl, take it from someone who knows, you would not be disappointed.”

You’d waved her off before gathering a pile of files for the ambassador, using the need to drop them off as an excuse to end the conversation. When you arrived back at your desk, Javier’s partner Steve was waiting at your desk.

“Agent Murphy, what a nice surprise.” You weren’t lying, you much preferred to deal with Steve when it came to the pair of agents, he was married and you appreciated that unlike his partner, he didn’t openly gawk at you when trying to hold a conversation.

“Javier sends his apologies, he had to head out to follow a lead…” You shrugged your shoulders at him, “Anyway, he asked me to bring this down for the ambassador and said if you could make sure it lands up on the desk before the end of the day, he would be most appreciative.”

“You know, if you’d come down and asked without mentioning him, I would have done that, but you can tell him the ambassador is very busy and it’ll wait until tomorrow.”

“Oh come on,” Steve groaned, “If not for Javi then for me? He’s gonna chew my ass if I don’t get this sorted.”

“You can tell him if he’s got an issue he can take it up with me personally, surely that’ll get you off the chopping block?”

“I hope you know what you’re getting yourself in for.” Was all Steve replied with before throwing the file down on your desk and walking away.

***

It was late. Later than you’d normally stay at work, but the ambassador had asked you for some financial reports which were proving trickier to put together than you had anticipated. Everyone else had left a while ago, the only sounds in the office were your pen scrawling across paper trying to make the numbers make sense and the far-off sounds of the cleaners in the hallway. That was until you could hear shoes on the flooring coming towards you.

“Querida, what are you doing here this late?”

“I could ask the same of you Agent Peña.” You replied, not looking up from the scrawls of numbers in front of you.

“I just came back after following up on something and Steve said you wouldn’t give the ambassador our intelligence today?”

“Ambassador Noonan is a busy woman, what do you want me to say?” You finally put your pen down to look at him, stood in front of your desk in his stupidly handsome leather jacket with his stupidly handsome hands on his stupidly handsome hips.

“Do you know how important that information is to catching Escobar?” He asked, his eyes boring holes into your own.

“And do you know how many people stand at my desk and insist their files are the most important thing she’s ever going to read in her life?” You countered.

You watched intently as he used one of his hands to pinch the bridge of his nose, you could tell he was thinking about what to say next.

“Listen, I know we’ve not always seen eye to eye,” He began, which earned a scoff from you as if to say no shit, “But this was really important.”

“Like I said to Steve, she’ll get it first thing in the morning.”

Without saying a word back to you, Javier turned on his heels and walked away to leave, before stopping to turn back and say two words you don’t think he’d ever said to you.

“Thank you.

***

Weeks had passed without incident. Javier and Steve hadn’t been around all that much – as far as you’d managed to find out they’d been in and out chasing up leads on Escobar out in the field. You hadn’t even bumped into Javier in the apartment building you all lived at. The only sign of life being the sounds of him and whatever woman he’d bought back that night. It was one of the only downsides to your living arrangement – living right next door to him and having to come up with inventive ways to get to sleep when all you could hear was another woman calling his name.

You’d worked late again. It was a Friday night and everyone else had left a while ago to the bar just around the corner from the embassy. Some of the girls had begged you to go with them but you wanted to get ahead of the ambassador’s schedule for next week, opting instead to spend your Friday pouring over briefing documents and getting everything in a row.

It probably hadn’t been wise considering there had been an increase in cartel violence on the streets – but you knew that the narcos were smarter than to try and attack the American embassy or anyone who they watched entering or leaving. As the clock struck nine you decided to call it a night. There was a long bath and a glass of wine with your name written all over it at home. Picking up your handbag and swapping your office heels for something more comfortable to walk home in you started making your way to your apartment.

You weren’t exactly sure when you became aware that someone was following behind you. You’d noticed the sound of feet on the pavement, but it was a Friday night so that wasn’t all that unusual. Something in your subconscious had told you to speed up a little and you’re sure it was when the footsteps behind you did the same that you began to panic a little. You were only a few blocks away from the apartment building. All you needed to do was make it there and you’d be safe.

The mysterious person behind you had other ideas. You were a street away from the building when you felt a tug on the strap of your handbag. It dragged you backwards and you came face to face with a man. He was much taller than you and had a heavy build. Your brain immediately deciding that fighting him off was impossible.

You tried in vain to drag your handbag from his hands, but his strength was obviously greater. You gave a good fight but suddenly felt a sharp sting across your face. Whoever this man was he’d just hit you. Hard. You could already feel the telltale slither of blood falling from your nose and the impact had caused a cut to your lip as well. The force was enough to make you let go of your handbag and you watched miserably as the man ran back off down the street with it.

You wished him luck – there was a tiny bit of money and the keys to your apartment door but not much else. You tried as hard as you could to stifle a laugh at the situation – a bloody nose, cut lip and judging by the ache behind your eye, a black eye, for a few pesos and a useless door key.

Thankful that you were just a few minutes’ walk away from your apartment you arrived, ready to down a glass of wine until your headache dulled before realise whoever that piece of shit was, he had your keys.

You groaned out loud, leaning yourself against your apartment door. Connie and Steve lived upstairs but it was late, and you had no intention of waking their new baby and invading their apartment. There was only one option. Javier.

You prayed to whichever God out there would listen as you knocked on his front door, hoping that had chosen the comfort of his own home and opposed to a brothel for the night. If he did, it was a lovely night on the floor for you.

It took a moment, but you could hear shuffling at the other side of the door before it swung open to reveal Javier, top buttons undone and without a belt on his jeans.

“Jesus Christ, Querida,” He exclaimed, taking in the sight of your face, bloody and already bruising, “What on earth happened?!”

“Some guy tried to take my bag as I was walking home, when I tried to fight it back from him he hit me,” You explained, “Stupid of me really considering he was at least twice my size.”

Javier ushered you inside, closing the door behind you before motioning for you to sit on his couch, “Was there anything important in there?”

“No, I don’t take papers home with me, just a few hundred pesos and my apartment keys.”

“Okay, that’s good, we can get you a new set keys in the morning,” He spoke over his shoulder as he rooted around in his freezer, “Does it hurt?”

“Are you seriously asking if my bloody nose, split lip and potential black eye hurts?” You shot back, deadpan as he wrapped some ice in a towel, “Yes, it fucking hurts Javier.”

“Alright, I’m sorry, just take this and rest it where it hurts.” He spoke, handing over the ice before heading back to the kitchen.

He returned with two glasses filled with amber liquid which you could only assume was whiskey and popped two pills next to the glass he set down for you, “You know you’re not supposed to take pills with alcohol right?” “Trust me, I’ve been doing it most of my life and I seem to be alright,” Was his response as he sat down in the chair away from you, “Both will help take the sting away, I promise.”

At this point you would do anything to get rid of the dull ache behind your eyeballs so, putting down the ice, you popped both pills on your tongue at the same time before draining the whole glass of whiskey in on go. When you opened your eyes, Javier’s were trained on you, staring.

“What?” You challenged, picking up the ice again, “Never seen a girl shoot a whiskey before?”

Without a word, he stood from the chair and took a few wide strides before he was on his knees on the floor in front of you.

“Let me see.” He all but demanded, moving your hand that was holding the ice to your swollen lip.

Once the ice had moved, he used his hand to lean your chin up so he could see your injuries better. Your breath and caught in your throat at him being so close to you. His eyes were pouring over your face as he turned you into the light to get a better look at each injury.

“Whilst he did a number on you, hermosa,” Javier spoke, “I don’t think you need stitches.”

“Thank the lord for small mercies.” You replied as Javier walked to the kitchen and retrieved the bottle of whiskey, stopping to pour a shot into your glass before doing the same to his own glass.

“Do you want to have a shower?” He asked, “You can get yourself clean and I’ll see if I’ve got some clothes you can wear for tonight.”

You gave a small smile, suddenly feeling quite helpless about the whole situation, “That would be nice Javi, thank you.”

***

The warm water of Javier’s shower did wonders for loosening the joints you hadn’t realized you’d tensed so much. Watching the blood from your nose wash down the drain was concerning, and you were sure the headache you had was getting worse, but you hoped the pills and the alcohol would do their job soon enough.

Once you were wrapped in a towel and stood in Javier’s bedroom, you couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself. He’d lain out a t-shirt and a pair of his boxers, the only clothes you think he could find that would fit you. Once you were dry and had slipped on the clothes you took a moment to gather yourself.

You wondered how many other women had been in this room, wearing his clothes. Granted, you doubted that very few of them, if any, had received a slap round the face in exchange for their bag, but there was a telltale pang of jealously that this felt like something he would do for every girl fresh out of his shower.

“Hermosa…” Javi dragged out of his mouth when he caught site of you leaving his room, before couching a little to cover up the obvious slip of the tongue he hadn’t meant to let leave his thoughts.

“Thank you, I feel much better now.” You replied, taking up your old seat on his couch.

“You shouldn’t be walking back this late on your own by the way.” He offered.

“It’s never been an issue before,” You spoke softly, taking a sip of your drink, “I know things are getting more dangerous, but it really is only a few streets, and I don’t drive.”

“Whenever you need to work late you tell me,” He ordered, “I’m usually always around and I’ll drive you back.” “I don’t need you to be my chauffer, Javier.” You snorted.

“I’m not asking to be your chauffer, querida, I’m asking to be your friend.”

An involuntary snort left your mouth when Javier spoke, “You don’t want to be my friend Javier, you hate me.” Was your response.

A sigh left Javier’s lips, “I don’t hate you querida,” His voice was low, “Quite the opposite actually.”

“What the hell are you talking about Peña?”

Another ragged sigh left his mouth as he pinched the bridge of his nose as if to collect his thoughts, “I like you, okay?” He looked you dead in the eyes, “I Like you very much.”

“But you don’t know anything about me, Javier?!” You exclaimed, not understanding how the man in front of you, who had been the cause of most of your problems since coming to Colombia, was admitting he liked you. This had to be a joke.

“I know enough to make my judgement, hermosa,” He replied, “I know that you’re one of the only women at the embassy who won’t stand for my shit, I know that you’re fiercely intelligent and that you’d do anything in your power to help those you care about, I know you’re from Texas and that tequila is what you like to drink on a Friday when you want to forget about your week. I know you call your family every Sunday and it’s the part of your week you look forward to the most because that’s what you always talk to the girls in the office about when Steve and I come for Monday briefing.”

As he trails off you sit on his couch dumbfounded. Javier Peña liked you. Maybe every time he’d tried to coax you into leaving the bar with him hadn’t been for just another conquest. Maybe when the girls in the office had told you he was flirting with you, it was because he was and not because he wanted you to slip his files to the top of the ambassador’s pile.

“Listen querida,” Javier spoke again, moving so you were caught in his eyeline, “I might not know everything about you, like your favourite colour or how you like your eggs cooked in the morning, but I know that you are the only woman in this godforsaken place that makes me feel anything.”

“It’s orange.” You spoke without thinking, looking him dead in the eye.

“Hmm?” “My favourite colour, it’s orange.”

Javier chuckled, pushing himself up from his seat to sit next to you on the couch, placing a hand lightly on your thigh, “Mine is blue.” He offered, causing you both to laugh at each other.

“Jesus Christ Javi, just kiss me already.”

He didn’t need telling twice. Aware of the injuries to your face, he used his hands to cup either side of your face before pressing a soft kiss to your lips, trying to avoid putting too much pressure on the swelling. He needn’t have worried because almost immediately you snaked a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him in closer, allowing your mouth to open slightly to him.

Javi immediately accepted the invitation of your open mouth, tentatively using it to tangle his tongue with your own as he deepened the kiss. The faint taste of blood in your mouth had him pulling back. You could tell he was searching your face for any signs of discomfort.

“Javi it’s fine, it’s a split lip, just…” You trailed off, pulling him back closer to you, “Don’t stop.”

Instead of latching himself back onto your mouth, Javier used his bodyweight to push you back so you were led on his couch with his body covering yours above you. One of his hands was placed next to your head to keep him held up above you, the other was resting at your hip as he looked down at you.

“You look lovely like this querida,” He breathed, “Trapped underneath me all breathless and wanting.”

“It’s not nice to tease, Peña.” Came your response as you bucked your hips towards him slightly, letting him know you needed him.

He smirked down at you before taking the assault of his mouth to your neck. He pressed open mouth kisses down your throat and along your collarbone as his hand slowly worked the hem of your shirt free from where you’d tucked it into your skirt before tracing his fingers up inside the material to rest just under the band of your bra.

A moan ripped from your throat as Javier bit down on the skin behind your ear, sucking gently but enough that you knew there would be a mark there in the morning.

“You like that huh?” He whispered into your ear, “You like it when I mark you?”

“Mmm Hmm.” Was all you could manage to get out as Javier continued to trail his mouth over your exposed skin.

“Words, Hermosa,” He stopped, lifting his head to look you in the eye, “Use them.”

“Ye…yes, I like it whe… when you mark me, Javi.” Came your strangled reply.

“I bet you do,” He rasped into your ear, “I bet if I slipped my hand into your panties you’d be wet for me, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes!” You called out without even thinking, “Oh my god Javi please take my clothes off and touch me.”

You almost expected Javier to tease you more at this point but instead, he pushed himself back so he was knelt between your thighs before making quick work on situating himself on the floor on his knees.

“Sit up for me hermosa.” He spoke, helping you to move yourself so your ass was only just hanging onto the edge of the couch with your back up against it.

Almost on instinct your spread your legs wide for him, watching as he bunched your skirt up against your waist, revealing the light grey cotton panties you’d thrown on this morning. If you’d known then that by the evening you’d be baring them to Javier’s face, you’d have picked something sexier.

You looked down at him between your thighs and saw his chest was heaving slightly with his heavy breathing, “What’s this?” He asked, before brushing his fingers over the material that was covering your core, “You’re soaking already, this little wet patch is giving you away.”

A light moan left your lips as his fingers moved from the wet patch at your entrance all the way up to where he could touch your clit. His touch was feather light but just like anything he’d done in the past few minutes it was lighting you on fire.

“I’m going to eat your pussy, darling girl,” He spoke, hooking his fingers around your panties to drag them off, “Is that okay?”

“Only if you’re good at it, Peña.” Came your response.

If he wanted to respond to your smart mouth he thought better of it. Pulling your panties all the way off and discarding them somewhere on the floor behind him before bringing his face as close to your pussy as he could get without touching you. He stayed like that for what felt like hours as he watched your wiggle your hips and move about to try and get his mouth to touch you.

When he finally did put his mouth to you it was like the universe exploded. He licked a single stripe from your entrance to your clit, using the tip of his tongue to tease the bundle of nerves before pulling away. A petulant whine left your mouth but Javier had waited a long time for this so it wasn’t long until his tongue was back to teasing your clit. He switched between light flicks of his tongue to enveloping your clit between his lips to suck on it. Within no time your hands were tangled in his hair and you were grinding your pussy into his mouth, begging him to make you cum.

“You want to cum, hermosa?” He asked, tearing himself away from your pussy, “You going to make a mess of my face?”

“Oh god,” You moaned, “Javi please, it’s too much.” You looked down and watched as he smirked at you before latching his mouth back around your clit. You’d never felt like this with anyone before, you could certainly understand why most of the girls in the office were obsessed with this man if this is what he could do to them in mere minutes. A flash of jealousy seeped into you which you tried to push to the back of your mind.

Suddenly you felt him push two fingers inside your aching pussy. Your felt him expertly curl them upwards, hitting a spot inside you that you weren’t aware could feel so good. Your hips began moving to meet the thrusts of his fingers inside you as his tongue continued teasing your clit. You could feel the telltale tightening in your abdomen and just silently prayed to god that he didn’t stop.

“I can feel you getting tighter around my fingers hermosa,” Javi groaned from your pussy, “I want you to cum for me.”

His words mixed with the assault of his fingers and mouth were all you needed at that point. Your thighs tightened around his face as you cried out his name whilst his mouth worked your through your orgasm.

Once Javi had worked you through most of the aftershocks of your orgasm he sat back on his heels to look at you.

“I don’t think anyone has made me cum like that,” You spoke breathlessly, “That was insane.” You took the time to look at Javi, from his place sat on the floor.

His mouth was glistening with your slick and the further you let your eye roam the better the view got, until your eyes settled on the prominent bulge at the front of his jeans.

“Looks like you’ve got a little problem there, agent.” You teased, pointing to him.

“Little?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, “You’re going to regret that.”

He stood, making light work of removing the belt that held his jeans up, “Turn around and lift your skirt up.” He ordered.

You did as you were told, draping the upper half of your body over the back of the couch, widening your legs so Javier had a view of your ass and your exposed pussy. You looked over your shoulder to find him fishing a condom out of his wallet before shedding himself of his jeans and boxers. Little had been as far from correct as you could have been. His cock was hard and you watched intently as he rolled the condom on swiftly. Your mouth watered at the thought of having him heavy in your mouth.

“Enjoying the show?” He asked as he moved behind you, letting two of his fingers dip into your pussy, “So wet for me hermosa, you ready for my cock?”

“Yes Javi,” You breathed, moving yourself back in an attempt to get him closer to you, “I want you to fill me up.”

“Whatever you want, darling girl.” Was his answer.

You felt him scoot up behind you, taking your hip in one of his hands, using the other to guide the head of his cock to your wet slit. The friction caused when he started pushing inside of your was delightful. He was big, the biggest you think you’d ever taken but the feeling of fullness was overwhelming.

You could hear soft grunts from behind you as he pushed himself all the way into you, stilling once he had bottomed out, “You okay?” He asked softly into your ear as the hand at your hip squeezed lightly.

“Fuck Javi,” You moaned, “You’re so fucking big, it feels so good.” “Yeah?” He asked, a slight chuckle to his voice, “You like my cock inside of you?”

“Uh huh.” You managed to drag out from your mouth as he slowly pulled out and thrust back into you.

The pace was slow to begin with, giving you a chance to get used to his size within you and half because Javier knew if he started his usual bruising pace with you, he would be done in mere seconds. God you felt good around him.

“Javi please,” You begged, “I need you to move.”

“You want me to fuck you?” He asked, pulling his cock almost all the way out of your pussy before stilling, “Needy little thing, begging for my cock like that.”

He wasn’t one to deny a lady what she wanted though so he set about giving you exactly what you wanted. Soon enough he was pounding into your pussy from behind. The strangled cries that he pulled from your lips were enough to let him know you were enjoying yourself – pair those sounds with the way your pussy was clenching around him every time he pushed himself into you and he was ready to come undone.

“You’re such a good girl for me aren’t you?” He cooed into your ear as the hand that wasn’t keeping him upright tangled in your hair, “Put your hand on your pussy baby,” He ordered, “Make yourself cum on my cock.”

You did as you were told, snaking one of your hands underneath your body. You used one of your fingers to circle your clit, the wetness dripping from your entrance enough to slicken you.

“That it’s baby,” Javier spoke in encouragement, “I can feel that pussy clenching around me, you going to cum for me?”

The entire thing was overwhelming – the filth falling from Javi’s mouth, the feeling of his cock filling you up and your fingers on your clit pushing you to the edge. Your second orgasm creeped up on you, falling over you in waves as you cried Javi’s name.

“God fucking dammit,” Came a voice from behind you, “Baby I’m going to cum.”

Words had failed you, but you moaned in approval, doing what you could to push your pussy further into Javi’s hips. A few more thrusts and he stilled within you, letting out a raged moan as his hand squeezed hard enough to bruise at your hips.

Javier stayed still for as long as he could, letting the two of you catch your breath for a moment before he pulled himself out of you. Without his body to keep you upright you collapsed into the couch, doing what you could to pull your skirt down so you weren’t bared to the room anymore.

Javi padded back into the room after disposing of the condom in his bathroom. He sat down on the couch, lifting your legs to rest against his thighs. He was still dressed in his shirt and had thrown on a fresh pair of boxers on his way back to you.

“Javi…” You spoke, drawing his attention to you.

“What is it, hermosa?”

“I think we skipped right past friends, don’t you?”

A laugh erupted from his mouth. You think it’s the first time you’ve seen him properly laugh and you like it.

“You mean your friends don’t eat your pussy and fuck you like that?” He asked, raising his eyebrows at you.

You let your hand swat his arm, “You know, I can’t say they do.”

His eyes darkened slightly as they looked at you, “Does that mean they don’t wrap you up in bed, let you sleep for a few hours and then wake you up to bury themselves inside of you?”

Your eyes widened at the insinuation. You’d assumed you’d spend the night sleeping on his couch until you could slip out and get your keys sorted.

“You want me to sleep in your bed?” “Hermosa….” He breathed, “We won’t be sleeping much at all.”

#javier pena #narcos #Pedro pascal #Javier pena smut #Javier pena fic #javier pena x reader #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x you #javier pena fanfiction #Javier pena Pedro pascal

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undercoverpena · 6 days

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1. tie the knot

javier peña x f!reader* | chapter one of let us pretend

summary: peña has been back in Texas for all of five minutes, thinking he wants a simple life. but, when steve offers him the chance to gather information on a potential new player, he jumps at the chance. the only problem is, to do so, he'll need to go undercover with a female agent—and pretend to be her husband.

wordcount: 4.6k chapter themes: fake dating/relationship/marriage, forced proximity / sharing one bed, colleagues to lovers, no use of Y/N, *female agent has a nickname (sunny) for use undercover. an: this week i am full of surprises. welcome to the world of let us pretend. this chapter might not feel different from htcu, but it is.

All he has to do is pretend. Put on an act.

It’s simple on paper. Easy. A thing he’s already a master in, something he has never found particularly difficult or hard: pretending.

Javi, after all, had had always been pretty good at concealing, at masking—

“Y’need to pretend to be married.”

Faking being a husband was a new one.

Having lived with far too many emotions for so long, it’s not hard for him to fake nonchalance.

Colombia had been his school. The place where he collected his degree—days of pretending he was okay. Hiding the fact he couldn’t sleep the horrors away, that he wasn’t falling apart at the seams. That stress wasn’t making him chain smoke and the pressure wasn’t making him sink his cock into women he couldn’t save.

He picked up his doctorate when he returned home. When ranch life had felt so fucking dull it made him want to pick the smoking habit back up, just for something to do. When he saw boats that made his insides twist, but found he had to wear a smile. Hiding, as expertly as he could, so he didn’t bristle each time someone called him a hero—when all he wanted was a drink, a fuck or a newspaper.

Mostly, Javi had become a master in squirrelling away the fact he saw every minute of the hours at night, feeling nothing short of relief when his alarm chimed so he could get out of his homemade prison.

Bluffing had always been a skill of his. But, this, this was new to him. His bluffing had never required him to wear something shiny on his left hand and—

“And, Jav. Try not to fuck her.”

He’s not surprised that Steve heads up a department in Miami—or that he’s happy and content.

From the moment the two of them reunited, he took in the glow on his old partner’s skin (the one he strongly suspects isn’t just from the sun) and listened as he heard short (in Murphy’s opinion) stories about his daughter growing older.

Javi couldn’t relate—not that he’ll admit it. Just another thing he disguises. Smothers his face in what he assumes is what happiness looks like, wears it like an accessory, something akin to wearing a jacket, rather than actually feeling it.

Picking up a ring, rotating it between his thumb and finger, he snorts. “Wouldn’t be very husband-like of me, if I didn’t, would it?”

He’s nudged. An intentional elbow to the side sparks a grin as he places the ring back into its velvety spot.

Because none of them look right. None seem right—even for a fake thing.

“Fake husband. And don’t fuck this up.”

“I’m hearing a lot of don’ts and not a lot of do’s, Murphy. What the fuck is it you want me to do?”

He’s already been told, informed. Briefed.

Tricked in fact. Requested down here for an opinion, but when his worn-in soles landed in the office of his former colleague, it unravelled into something so much more.

Handed a file—one he knows everyone expects he won’t read—and given a rundown of what the operation is supposed to look like. But Javi knows better. Had known it too. Even suspects, Murphy does too.

One thing Colombia has taught him is that plans don’t mean shit, not when you’re up against an ever-evolving problem.

You don't just want me here for a consult, do you, Murph? Was hopin’ you were bored in Texas.

He suspects that’s why his Pop had given him an arched brow, an expression that was accompanied by pinched lips when he’d first mentioned it. Even his assurance that it’ll be a few days—just helping Steve out was met with a look Javi hadn’t banked on. Realising as he stood admiring wedding rings that his Pop had figured it out long before him.

At least now he understands why he got the Chucho-treatment—not quite quiet, but not quite the same treatment from him that he did the day before.

Instead, that kind of treatment that pierced itself into him, attempted to bury itself inside of him and made guilt flood through him like a poison.

Even if once before he would struggle with it, found himself desperate to apologise—make it up to his Pops—he didn’t this time. Because Javi already struggled. Already grown tired of itching for something.

So, he said nothing. Because he knows Murphy wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t need him.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Murphy closes his eyes. The same noticeable twitch in his fingers and chewing inside his cheek that Javier can relate to: the sign of a recent quitter, and one attempting to use gum as a replacement.

Needing too.

“Where is she, anyway?” he asks, shifting the conversation, suppressing a yawn.

Before he’d even got on the plane out here, he’d been tired. Already beginning to fray at the edges, sleep had already become an even more distant friend.

All of it had been made worse by the worried look on Pop’s face when he dropped him at departures. It thickened, slathered itself on his shoulders even more so when he calls him from Murphy’s office to tell him it’ll be three months.

“You managed longer than I thought, Javi.” “Pop…”

Even though he had known it wouldn't matter, he had still tried to explain it all over again. From the top. All softly, with patience—the phone receiver leaving an indent on his cheek as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Reminding his Pop that this time he was doing his friend a favour, that it was a one-time thing—a few months, at most.

It didn’t shift the tone—didn’t stop Javi from imagining the disappointed lines bleeding into worried ones, mixing with the ones caused by age. It didn't lessen the tightness over the phone, simmering in the miles of air, because they were both at a standstill in the centre of a formerly (albeit temporary) happy situation.

Sighing, Murphy drops his hand, pulling him back from his thoughts. “She’ll be here, alright.”

Javi snorts, swallowing.

Glancing back over another table, seeing other things, other accessories. Things that’ll help him blend, help the two of you blend. You and him, him and you—a person he knows the name of and nothing else.

Steve had shared that you were good, brilliant, the only one he’d trust. That you knew the work so far better than anyone.

He’d been about to begin unpicking those earlier statements when the door opened, blouse and black tailored trousers walking towards him.

It isn’t anything cliché.

Time doesn’t stop, the room doesn't silence, but something happens. Something shifts, changes—alters. Because instantly, Javi realises you’re pretty. A thought which confuses him, especially when it dawns on him that usually, it’s a woman's figure he notices and admires first, but he finds that it's your eyes that he lingers on.

And fuck do they cut into him.

Practically reach inside of him, before they go through him, digging into flesh and fucking bone.

Then, all at once, ceasefire. A chance to strengthen his façade as you turn to greet Murphy, a handshake, a sea of pleasantries. Enough chance to shove it down, whatever attempted to rise in him.

But, he swears he can still see them behind his lids. Something which makes his jaw tighten, teeth grind—

“You must be my husband,” you say, smirk sliding up into your cheek.

Your body suddenly turns to him, hand sticking out towards him, adding your name to the statement as though stamping it into the air and his body goes clammy, grows warm and makes him suddenly desperate for water, coffee or even whiskey.

Slipping his hand into yours, he’s not surprised to find that it’s soft, the right kind of warm. He’d suspected about as much from just appearances alone.

“Agent Murphy has told me a lot about you, Mr Peña.”

Running his tongue over the front of his teeth, he eyes you. “Think my wife should call me, Javi.”

Javi learns, rather quickly, that you have a nice voice.

It doesn’t grate, doesn’t annoy him—it’s informative, but there’s something else there, a playful edge, a little thing within you that hasn’t been crushed.

He remembers when he’d been as sprightly.

Rubs his forehead with the heel of his palm as he does, fingers desperate to clutch a pen, his jaw tightening as he thinks about how he could roll it in his fingers, hold it like he used to hold a smoke.

Fuck, he wishes he could chew his gum.

A thing which is slowly making him more tense.

Not that you seem to notice, too focused on getting him up to speed on the actual investigation. He’d read much of your notes before today, it was the next part he was more on edge by.

Because, whatever his earlier opinion of you was, he was getting the distinct impression you’d rather set your skin on fire than be fake married. A thing you stop trying to hide, your face displaying your disgust at it each time it is casually mentioned.

It was mandatory—Murphy’s words—for the two of you to get to know one another. A crash course, a 101 in the other. It’s told to you, that the two of you are going to be stationed in your new home for the next few weeks, starting from today. But, because they’re merciful—

“Wanted to make sure you had time to get to know one another. So, take the day—work can begin another day.”

“How nice of you, Murph,” he responds, words dipped in sarcasm. Briefly catching sight of you smirking as you study something on the table.

Javi had already imagined that—since it was recon, and more surveillance than anything else—for the most part, everything could remain the same. He learnt he was right moments later when it was confirmed his name would remain very much his own, and you were handed his surname like a gift you’d rather burn than accept.

It was you who had to surrender more.

“Y’need a new first name.”

If you were surprised, you didn’t show it. A sea of reasons given, the main one being if anyone asked around with a photo and your name, it would be easier to put two and two together. You lived here, for one.

You keep your eyes down, glancing over the table of possessions you’re allowed to borrow, to play dress up with. Fingers brushing over a watch (silver, a white face)—something haunting in your eye you’re quick to blink away when you meet Murphy’s stare.

Folding his arms, Steve sighs. “Jus’ something you’ll answer to. That can be used in public.”

Javi watches you smirk, something secretive, a hidden joke simmering between the two of you—leaving him very much out in the cold of it.

After a beat, you lick your lips.

“Sunny,” you reply, lifting your eyes, digging each syllable of the name you’re going to use into him.

“Let me guess you’re someone’s ray of sunshine?”

He doesn’t mean for it to fall out laced in bitterness, but it does all the same. His mouth tilted into a smirk, your eyes hardening as you placed down a pair of earrings you’d picked up.

“Think it’s more because of my sunny disposition.” He snorts, watching you move around the table. “It’s a family nickname—I’ve… I’ve always been called it, so, I’ll answer to it.”

Swallowing, Javi lets his eyes wander to the wall of the room.

“Alright, you two. You need to sell it, y’hear me?”

“Then we need money.” It’s short, stern, the way you deliver it, head tilted and face unreadable. “We’ll be sniffed out immediately without it. These people deal in money, not handsome faces.”

"So, you think I'm handsome?"

The roll of your eyes doesn't dispute it, not as you direct your attention back to Murphy.

Who, until now, Javi hadn't realised (with his hands on his hips) how big boss Murphy looked as he whispered fine, or how much it rather annoyed him. How it would be quite easy to give him a shove. More so when he’s handed a new phone, a set of documents, credit cards and given more instructions he wishes he could shove down his throat.

He almost gets close enough to do both when briefing ends and he’s handed the keys to the hotel suite they’d be living in—their story simple, easy:

“We have a fake house for you both being made ready as a cover story, but for now you’re both in the hotel. Prime location. Beach views, and very much in reach to the top places the targets visit.”

And, Murphy hadn’t been lying.

It did have good views, the suite was even nice—really nice.

Almost too nice for a little surveillance, a little fake marriage and a drug bust. But, he didn’t complain, barely said a thing in the ride over, or when you wheeled your own case. He even remained silent when you refused to look at him in the elevator or on the walk to the room, and even when the two of you entered.

In fact, the first words he said were: “You gotta try and look at me like you don’t wanna peel my skin off. You know, if you want this to work.”

He expects it; braces for it, the tongue lashing, an icy stare. Picturing you as the kind of woman who is already to sharpen your tools and pierce him with them when he blinks. But, you don’t.

If anything, Javi watches in slow motion as your shoulders sink, your cogs turning before your expression softens.

“You’re right—I’m… sorry.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, he nods. “There’s one bed.”

“Well. We can sleep in the same bed, Peña. We’re adults. However, for your sake, I’m going to put a pillow between us.” Your eyes sweep over him, cold, drowning him in a chill. “Two actually.”

“You a cuddler, or something?”

Smiling, you sigh. “No. The pillow is so that if you roll over all sleepy and desperate for some affection, I won’t have to cut you. Because if you touch me, that is what will happen.”

“How are we meant to sell we’re in love if I can’t touch you?”

“Oh, out there, you can touch me. In here, no.”

His snort rumbles from his chest. Tugged up, wrenched from some cobweb-filled depth, as you smile. Nothing big, nothing life-changing, but a start—the beginning of a level-playing field.

“What kind of touching, cariño?”

Jaw tightening, you smirk—but it’s cold.

He suspects you’re used to charm. Easily able to disable it, switch it off, unfazed by his gaze or the edge of his words. If anything, you seem really fucking bored of it—something he’s not sure if he admires or despises.

“Nothing like you used to pay for, Peña.”

Before he’s even recovered, he learns that you take things seriously.

Your bag opens, pulling out a notebook—upside down cursive etched over a page, your eyes scanning over it, before you ask if he’s ready. He’s barely able to ask for what, when you begin firing things at him.

Favourite food. Comfort film. Where did we meet? What song do you sing in the car when I’m not around? Are you allergic to anything?

The list goes on, and on. The more things continue to run out of your mouth, the more he begins to admire you—to settle into some comfort that you want to do this properly. That you’re going to take it seriously too, something he wants.

Needing it to matter.

Needing to have something work out easily, not have it all end for nothing.

The only time you pause is for a dinner—room service, his treat and his choice. A way of providing proof that he’d been listening, paying attention—somehow wanting to prove something to you, even if he’d known you for only half a day.

“So, how did Murphy get you on this?”

He studies the way you cross your leg over the other, the base of your heel tapping against the carpet—all very much guarded, on edge.

“You can tell it’s my first, can’t you?”

Javi smiles, making it softer purposefully. “A little.”

“He said you were good,” you sigh, placing your napkin down. “I assume I was chosen because it was easy. Y’know, than someone with… higher priorities. Plus, I already know the case. Guess it just made sense to send me.”

Nodding, he watches as you avoid his sight, focusing instead on the swirls in the carpet. Something ticking in your pretty little head, it forcing your nostrils to flare, for your jaw to tighten—and he’s watching it happen, practically feeling the air around you begin to vibrate from it all.

“M’not gonna let anything happen to you, Sunny. You know that right?”

That does it. Further digs in the hatred you’re feeling tenfold because the use of your new name makes you flinch. And he knows, like he had suspected earlier that it means more than just a name. Especially from the look on your face.

At first, your expression is soft, almost mask-less—no walls, no defence. Then, like magic, it shifts. It drapes down, rebuilds, and suddenly there within seconds, the same expression he’s been working with since introduction.

“I have heard how you take care of the women who work with you.”

Picking up your drink, and stirring the straw, you let your eyes meet his. The small wooden table suddenly even smaller—the large suite, suddenly constricting in a way he hadn’t expected so far.

“S’not what I meant.”

“I know.” It’s curt, your reply. Clearing your throat, you snort, “You are handsome. I can see why you did so well. And, I might not need to say this, but I need you to know I like my job, and I don’t require that kind of care.”

Rubbing his jaw, he sighs. “That so?”

“I have something that can help with that. It doesn’t talk. It doesn’t need to remind it that it’s ‘so big’, and it doesn’t need me to call it baby. It just hums—politely—and makes my thighs shake. I just need you to be with me in this.”

He snorts, draining the rest of his glass. The ice clangs just before he places it back down on the table. “You bring it with you, your something?”

Licking your lips, your mouth slides into your cheek. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Steve had told you his credentials—how he worked, how smart he was. How easily he was able to decipher a read on someone.

He did also mention much of Peña’s backstory—including his rich history with the opposite sex. A thing you hadn’t wanted to let escape out coated in catty and wrapped in bitchy. And yet, it had all the same.

You did want to get on with him, you admired him after all. Hearing the truths from Steve made the things that swirled like gossip even more impressive.

But, in all of the briefings you’ve had before agreeing to this, your boss had failed to mention that it wasn’t just the man’s tongue that got women to confess all their secrets, but his ridiculously handsome face too.

The one that keeps turning towards you—eyes concentrated in on you as though you’re the most interesting thing he’s ever had the chance to listen to.

But, it wasn’t just that. It’s that he’s quick-witted, observant, and it most definitely doesn’t help that he’s all broad shoulders and brown eyed. That, in part, you thought you could handle.

Then, he’d flirted.

On any other day, in any other place, you’re sure you’d have melted. Likely leant forward, elbow on your knee, tracing your bottom lip with your finger just to make his eyes drop to your mouth.

But, this isn’t any other day—it’s work, a job, one that requires him (in part) to be a flirt.

Clearing your throat, you smear on a smile. “You not tried to date since you’ve been home?”

His face hardens, just slightly.

It pinching, eyes more so than anywhere else—his smile falling, descending to a thin line as he traces his teeth with his tongue. Then, his eyes shift into an entirely different brown, an explosion of shades swirling—flecks of gold and sadness-infused umber.

“No.”

Nodding, you pick at some salad on the side of your plate. “Probably a good job—don’t need any angry people coming for me when I’m curled up on your arm.”

He snorts, but it doesn’t flutter over his face. His hand remains balled up, resting on the arm of the chair—something more there, prodding, needling him. He may be so easily able to read you, but you’re sure he’s about as clear as a warm day himself.

Landing his gaze back on you, you feel it linger, hover—before it begins to slip down from your eyes, landing somewhere at your neck, before the buttons off your shirt. Something warming inside of you, flooding out, spreading across your skin as you try your damnest to level your breathing.

“Got any more questions?”

“Plenty,” you reply, almost catching the y on your teeth before placing a light smirk out over your lips, letting it move across your face.

Gesturing, Peña licks his lips and so you begin with more. Not needing the book now, just working your way through the things which populate, which appear like bubbles he bursts with his answers.

He’s open about some things more than others. The two of you covering family quickly, childhoods even quicker. You both discreetly avoid too many details of Colombia, about the things you’d already heard in chunks from your superior.

Your 101 beginner class in your new husband proving to be easier to understand than your field handbook—although, you supposed the intermediate and expert levels to him would be far harder to crack.

He’s unmarried, not dating—there’s his dad, a sea of distant family and a town full of people whom his father would class as family. You suspect some guilt there, it layered between the conversation on his dad, and the one which followed when you’d asked if the ranch would be okay without him.

“—My Pops has had help for a long time. One of them has been promoted. He… He works there full time now.”

Even if he had tried to say it simply, it was laced in bitterness—not from jealousy, you suspect from the sadness that had poisoned over time. A well stuffed with things which had rotted and gone mouldy over time.

Upon sight of him this morning, you had known you’d need to be clever, smart—find ways to compartmentalise it all. Because, when he traces his nose with his finger, when his eyes widen a little more than normal—coffee-brown all but drowning you—you had known it would be hard otherwise.

Something there, niggling, piercing through.

“Any lovers I need to be aware of?”

Smiling, you slide your feet from your heels, pulling your legs up more, swallowing. “No, you’re good.”

“Any potential risks I need to be aware of—anyone who’ll call into question your new name?”

Your stomach knots, uncomfortably so. A thing balling inside of you, that same fear you’d been plucking at for days—ever since Steve had suggested your name, thrown it out on the conference table with a bunch of greedy eyes seated around it.

“No, I… you have nothing to worry about.”

He looks at you, lets it hover, hold. Something there, trying to disguise itself in the way he narrows his eyes a fraction, in the way his lips pinch together—the way his brain seems to whir like a fan that can be heard even across the table.

When you yawn, he makes a move to tidy up the plates for the tray—batting your hand away. “I’ve got it, cariño.”

“Cariño?”

Your cheeks are warm, more so under his stare. Easily able to smother it the first time, but found it difficult the second. It’s all wide, blooming—it tracing your eyes before it sweeps back to the tray.

“Gotta call my wife something original, special.”

“I’m hardly special, Peña.”

“If I’ve married you, you’re special.”

Clamping your mouth shut, you say nothing.

Something churning, a horribleness that you know stems from the fact this isn’t real. None of it. The niceness, the ring on your finger—the one your finger slides up your palm to brush over, to trace.

The one which didn’t have a home there this morning, but now sits like it’s always supposed to. Your stare on his back as he goes to the door, pushing the metal tray, the jingling of plates and glass sounding out as your heartbeat pounds in your ears, your cheeks burn in embarrassment.

It continues to hammer when your back flattened against the bathroom door—safe amongst marble, mirrors and an array of complimentary products which covered most of the sink.

Only as you begin to undress and change for bed, does it lessen, does your composure return back to you. The mask which you so delicately applied, the one which had taken more words of encouragement in your bathroom mirror this morning than you’d thought.

Because, it isn’t that you thought you couldn’t do this—but rather why would you?

This isn’t your expertise. Not your usual field of knowledge. The last time you’d even been on a date had been at least over a year ago, and the last time you’d lived with a man had been so long ago you were worried you’d wake tomorrow and learn you have habits you weren’t aware of.

Did you kick in your sleep?

Did you grind your teeth?

“Cariño?” Peña calls out, knuckles tapping on the door. “You good in there?”

No, you want to reply. Hands gripping the sink basin, staring at your makeup-less face and the nightie he was about to see you in.

“Yeah,” you call out, washing your hands, and flushing the toilet before unlocking the door, and emerging.

He’s polite enough to not drink you in, even if you're sure he’s craning his neck not to do so.

“Look. Before you crack your neck from not doing so.”

Smirking, he traces his fingers across his chin, before slowly dropping his eyes.

And you feel them.

Warm. Hot. Sliding over your neck, collarbone, down the silk which covers your chest, abdomen and most of your thighs, before he’s running his vision back up.

“Better?”

“Nice legs.”

Narrowing your eyes, you straighten your spine. “Try not to dream about them, and Peña?”

He hums.

“Try to remember you’re not actually married, don’t want you falling for the fantasy we’re putting on. Hate to break your heart.”

Leaning against the doorframe, staring at you, you somehow manage to level your breath. “If it’s you breaking my heart, Sunny. I might just let you.”

Your mouth almost falls open. Almost.

Something you think he's aware of from the way he smiles, from the way he drinks you in before he whispers about getting passed.

Then, you're alone.

Filling your lungs with a breath, staring around the room not sure how you're going to make it a week not cracking, never mind more.

CHAPTER TWO ->

AN: tag list won't be around from chapter two, thank you for letting me tell the story how i always envisioned. your kindness is appreciated.

taglist: @thetriumphantpanda @texassmiller @wordywarriorwrites @iknowisoundcrazy @thundermartini

@secretelephanttattoo @belliezz @picketniffler @thelightsandtheroses @sawymredfox

@toomanytookas @auteurdelabre @grumpygrumperton @noisynightmarepoetry @missladym1981

@maried01 @livswayout @casa-boiardi @msjarvis @perotovar @inept-the-magnificent

@copperhalfcent @morallyinept @inside-the-mind-of-a-wallflower @nabiiturner

@venturawriter @blablablasssss @half-moon16 @nerdieforpedro

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noxturnalpascal · 4 months

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My 2023 Fanfic-Wrapped

I only really started reading Pedro fanfic in April or May, I got started on some of the well-known fics on AO3 that were recommended on tiktok. However, one of them brought me to tumblr (because I wanted to see more from this author, I wanted to see their moodboards and their sneak peeks). And I haven’t left since.

I even decided to try my hand at writing as well. It’s been a LOT of fun. (My masterlist is here if you want to see all the weird shit I wrote so far). Thank you to everyone who has supported me in all my efforts and to all the friends I've made.

I wanted to create this list to highlight some of my faves this year. If you haven’t read these, they all come highly recommended by me.

I'll be reblogging everything on this list throughout the day. If you’d like to reblog this post and add some of your own favorites from this year - PLEASE DO!!! I would absolutely love to get new recs!! Let’s share the love!!

In no particular Order - Here are some of my favorites from the year!

Fave Writers (I’ll read anything they write)

@toxicanonymity (joel miller masterlist) Personal Faves: NightWalks!Joel, Vamp!Joel (both Ongoing)

@theywhowriteandknowthings (masterlist) Personal Faves: Creep - Joel, Princess and the Duke - Dave York (Ongoing)

@chloeangelic (masterlist) Personal Faves: Love Me Back - Joel, Seeking What is Desirable - Joel (Ongoing)

@goodwithcheese (masterlist) Personal Faves: The Layover - Frankie, Paranoid Heart - Javi P (Ongoing)

@beskarandblasters (masterlist) Personal Faves: Me and My Husband - Din Djarin, New York or Nowhere - Bodega!Joel (Ongoing)

@absurdthirst (masterlist) Personal Faves: Kinktober 2023 Oct 15th - LactationKink!Dieter, A Marriage of Convenience - Regency!PeroTovar, (they have SO many good ones)

Fave Ongoing Series

Mall Rats (Jackson-era!Joel) by @strang3lov3

Oh! Honey (Monster!Joel x Mortician!Reader) by @lincolndjarin

Hard to be Soft, Tough to be Tender (Pimp!Joel) by @iamasaddie

On the Waterfront (Chubby!Mafia!Frankie) by @beefrobeefcal

The King’s Queen (Royalty/ArrangedMarriageAU!Javi G) by @wardenparker

From Eden (PlantShopOwner!Joel x Married!F!Reader) by @5oh5

A Lover’s Pinch (Professor!Joel x Student!Reader) by @hier--soir

Into the Beat of the Night (Bi!Frankie x afab!gn!OC) by @perotovar

Fave Finished Series

A Stranger’s Heart Without a Home (Jackson-era Joel) by @morning-star-joy (This is the one that brought me to tumblr. Doni created this beautiful story and it has a very special place in my heart.)

Late Night Texts (Post-Colombia Javier Peña) by @undercoverpena

Someone’s Wife in the Boat of Someone’s Husband (Married!No-Outbreak!Joel) by @netherfeildren

Something New (SexWorker!Frankie) by @prolix-yuy

Something Wretched About This (DrugDealer!Joel) by @covetyou

Pioneer Frankie (A series of stories about Pioneer!AU!Frankie) by @frannyzooey

Trial & Error (No-Outbreak!Joel helps Tommy & reader get pregnant) by @thetriumphantpanda

Pleased to Meet You (Meeting Francisco Morales - twice) by @intheorangebedroom

Fave Characters

Husband's Best Friend Joel Miller (with Married! Reader) (HBF!Joel) by @gracieispunk

Jackson-Era Vampire! Joel Miller (A Secret Worth Keeping) by @multiversed-daydreamer

Soccer-dad No-Outbreak Joel Miller gets a racy text from an unknown number (The Right Wrong Number) by @proxima-writes

Demon! Ezra (with Witch! Reader) (In Every Lifetime) by @xdaddysprincessxx

Protective Jackson-Era Joel Miller (A Safe Haven) by @joelsgreys

THROUPLE Frankie x Joel x F!Reader (Catalyst Masterlist) by @ezrasbirdie

Sleezy Gas Station Joel *MC* Miller (Meet Me in the Back) by @atticrissfinch

Porn Star Joel Miller (with Porn Star Reader) (I Know it When I See it) by @bageldaddy

Fave Dark/DDDNE Fics (These fics aren’t being put in the corner but they do come with some very special warnings so I wanted to separate them)

Trick or Treat? (DDDNE Dark!Frankie Morales x Dark!Joel Miller x Dark!Dave York x F!Reader) by @morallyinept

Bullet For You, Darlin’ (DDDNE Dark!Raider!Joel Miller) by @kewwrites

Online Friends (Cherry Bomb) (Dom!Joel, online/phone sex) by @walkintotheriveranddisappear

Blessed Be the Fruit (Dark!DubCon! Joel Miller - Handmaid’s Tale AU) by @romana-after-dark

Red Light (Dark!Obsessive!DubCon! Landlord Joel Miller) by @kiwisbell

The Burglary (DDDNE burglar!Joel Miller x f!reader x burglar!Tommy Miller) by @milla-frenchy and @aurorawritestoescape

I don't know man.... I just know I like it

Menuet (It’s an animal/shapeshifter/monster fucking thing (Pero Tovar) that fundamentally changed who I am as a person) by @psychedelic-ink

Liquid Gold (Joel - and Tommy? - help Pregnant!Reader out when an issue arises) by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Get a Grip (Watch Model!Joel Miller x Manicurist!Reader Hand/GloveKink!) by @bonezone44

Mother Who Provides (Mommy!Kink Joel gets breastfed) by @pedge-page

Goodbye 2023, See you all next year!!!!

#fanfic wrapped #noxturnalpascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fanfiction #frankie morales fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction

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pimosworld · 2 months

Text

Unrequited

Pairing- Santiago Garcia x f!reader x Francisco Morales

Series Summary- Francisco was always afraid of settling down. He left Santiago to pick up the pieces after Colombia and now someone else is taking his place. Now he must cope with repairing the past without disrupting his future.

CW-18+,NSFW,MDNI, Angst, hurt/comfort, lovers to enemies to friends, friends to lovers, PTSD, mentions of addiction, therapy,canon typical violence, depression, anxiety, smut, m/m, m/m/f, eventual poly relationship, alcohol consumption,infidelity, unprotected piv,oral f receiving, oral m receiving, marriage proposals)

WC-5.2k

A/N- I hope you enjoy the first chapter and I’m just going to apologize now for the angst but it will get better…eventually. Happy Frankie Friday. @triplefrontier-anniversary

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter 1 Love sick

adjective: love-sick

in love, or missing the person one loves, so much that one is unable to act normally.

Frankie hates how everything feels the same. When the wheels touched down and he exited the plane, it smelled the same. All of his favorite places to eat, the usual stores, the same amount of unbearable traffic. He wanted this to feel different when he returned home. Like he expected his friends and him to be waiting at the airport to greet him with open arms. Like they would roll out the red carpet for him because they all missed him so much. How could he expect that when he couldn’t bother to tell anyone he was still alive let alone returning home? That’s like expecting to win the lottery but never playing. That delusional part of your brain where you imagine how you would spend the money and how you wouldn’t tell anyone.

He’s home now.

The bile starts to rise up in his throat as he approaches the neighborhood he was going to spend the rest of his life in. He was going to live a peaceful, quiet life with him. After Colombia they would have enough money to do whatever they wanted. Relax and finally work out some of that trauma from their shared experiences in the military. He supposed everyone did settle down anyway. What choice did they have after coming back with practically nothing. He heard Will eventually got married and Benny took what little money he had and opened up a boxing gym. Santi-

How was he supposed to return to this life with him after everything that happened in Colombia. Santiago finally gave him everything he wanted on a silver platter, everything Frankie had been asking of him for years. Love me out in the open, Love me out loud, Love me without fear or consequence of failure. So he did. He finally told him ‘after this, no more playing games. We do this for real or not at all, I'm all in if you are.’

His response was to flee. One month turned into six, six months turned into a year. Now three years later he’s coming back to the man he broke and he’s not sure what he’s expecting but it’s making him nearly break out in hives. The outside of the house looks a little different but he can’t put his finger on why. It’s brighter and somehow cleaner. Maybe Santiago had it painted recently. He huffs his bag out of the cab suddenly feeling a thousand times heavier than any pack he’s carried through the jungle with rain soaked clothes all the way down to his socks.

The bench is still there on the front porch that Frankie found at a garage sale. The first piece of furniture that graced the home they picked out together.Frankie told the guys it would be easier if they bought it together. He’s not sure who he thought he was fooling but it certainly wasn’t Benny and Will. Tom didn’t give a shit, he was such a cheap bastard he truly believed they would buy a house together to save money. Another example of Santiago going along with whatever Frankie said as long as he got to call it theirs.

His hands are sweaty and his arms are shaky as he raises them up to knock on the door. Santiago hated doorbells, such a weird quirky thing he never explained makes him laugh now, easing some of the tension in his shoulders. He waits…an uncomfortable amount of time before he thinks he could just turn around and act like he was never here until the door flies open.

You’re standing there practically beaming at him, he’s sure he’s got the most dumbfounded look on his face as he takes you in. You’re adorable as you lean against the door frame in a pair of leggings and a shirt he sort of recognizes, waiting for him to say something. Maybe he has the wrong house and you’re just sparing him the embarrassment. He’s completely bewildered when you surge forward and wrap your some around his middle, he instinctively despite you being a complete stranger embraces your hug. You’re like liquid in his arms as you press your chest to his and he can feel something awaken in him. The amount of warm bodies he found himself under or on top of over the years couldn’t compare to this consuming feeling. The worst part is how innocent you seem and how his thoughts are nothing but. He can smell you, a hint of orange and peach. Body wash, shampoo or perfume he doesn’t really care at the moment.

You mumble something that’s inaudible as you pull back and look at him, something sparkling in your eyes. “I was beginning to think you were like bigfoot, or the Easter bunny…or maybe even Santa Claus.” You giggle and it’s something else he has to add to the list. “Forgive me…it’s nice to meet you Francisco.”

“I see you’ve met my girlfriend.” That voice. The low sultry voice he’s sure he could never forget, not even if he tried. Frankie cried the day his phone was smashed and the voicemail Santi had left for him was lost forever. The last one he left, begging for him to come back, to come home. “Sorry she’s a hugger.” You sheepishly extract yourself from him as his body goes taut.

Santi steps up behind you, protectively and it cuts like a knife. His hand starts at the small of your back and wraps around to your front as he pulls you into his chest. You preen at the touch as you lean against him, kissing the dark stubble on his cheek. Frankie’s sure you don’t notice the fire in your boyfriend's eyes, a threatening stare that was usually only reserved for his enemies. He can see it then, shrouded in hurt and anger. She’s mine. Santiago won’t let him hurt you the way he was hurt. Thrown away and cast aside. That’s how Frankie thinks he’d paint the picture but that’s far from the truth. He was sparing him a lifetime of disappointment.

The feelings he had for you are going up in gray smoke like water doused onto a fire. This is a dangerous feeling, seeing you in his place. It’s not your fault at all that you met Santiago and walked into years of love,torment and jealousy. Frankie can tell how blindly you love Santiago, the way he loved Frankie all those years. He would lay down on a live wire for him, take a bullet for him, take public scrutiny and throw away his family’s judgmental stares for him. Being that vulnerable only puts you in danger.

“Invite him in silly.” You nudge Santi and he barely budges as he scoops up Frankie’s bag and slings it over his shoulder. You yelp as he pats you on the ass to coax you inside.

“Come on in Frank, make yourself at home.” His voice is raw and open, like Frankie’s heart. He grinds his teeth at the name he hates and the implication of home. But he deserves that. Santi is going to make him hurt.

****

The house looks relatively the same on the inside.

Some extra plants and a bookshelf, the distinct smell of lavender and vanilla are the only differences. He wishes it wouldn’t look the same, like everything else. It was like he never left, the same couch they used to spend late nights on, watching the same tv that sits in the corner. The same dining table that they would eat breakfast before going to work and dinner after a long day.

“I’m gonna make some cookies, since it’s a special occasion.” You wink at him and start moving around his kitchen like you know everything. The oven is preheated and you're mixing something into a bowl before he can blink. Humming some tune he’s sure he’s heard as he realizes the shirt you’re wearing is Santi’s favorite.

Santi slides up behind you kissing your neck. “Sounds like a good idea baby.” You glance up at Frankie looking a little bashful as you narrow your eyes at Santi.

“Why don’t you go put your stuff down in the spare bedroom.” Santi doesn’t move and that annoys him even more. He doesn’t have to show him where the room is because this used to be his house, still is technically. He stomps down the hall glaring at some artwork and photos he’s never seen. Stopping in his tracks when he sees a photo of the five of them in Delta. A stupid grin on Santi’s face because Frankie’s grabbing his ass while the photo is being taken. The younger faces of the Miller brothers and Tom.

He stops again when he sees the bedroom they used to share. Nothing much has changed about that either. The bedspread and the ungodly amount of pillows maybe…hopefully the mattress.

He sets his bag down against the wall and opens the window to let some air in. It’s stale and muggy so he shuts it immediately. He can still smell you on him and it’s driving him nuts. He got a whiff of Santi’s cologne during the brief greeting. That was different. He stopped wearing the one Frankie bought him on a mission in Morocco. Santi hadn’t so much as touched him during their hello and he’s not sure if that hurts worse than being able to hold him.

His body eases into the queen mattress as he leans back against the pillows. It’s much more comfortable than the previous one. Frankie never cared about the comfort of others and they argued about it. "It's just a spare bed, what's the problem?” Santiago would roll his eyes and he wanted to kiss that smug look off his face. ‘Our guests should be comfortable too.” He didn’t think they would ever have guests staying in their home other than Benny or Will and those bastards didn’t need a four star plush hotel stay. Now he’s a guest, in his own home and he hates how comfortable he is.

He’s exhausted…mentally, physically, emotionally. Too fatigued to even stand and turn on the ceiling fan that he’s staring at. He’s just starting to close his eyes when he hears a soft rap on the door. He sighs out in frustration, he needs a break from you right now, you’re too perfect and he’s too broken so he just needs a moment. He goes to protest when the door opens but it’s not you who greets him.

Santiago stands in the doorway with a plate of cookies and a glass of milk. He looks as though he’s approaching a wild animal in a cage with their favorite treat to calm them down just before they tranquilize them. Frankie sits up as he steps into the room and sets the items down on the bedside table.

“They’re still hot.” His tone is warning like he knows Frankie is going to shove one whole in his mouth the moment he leaves the room and then complain that it burned his tongue.

Frankie wants to say something but now doesn’t feel right. His tongue is heavy like lead in his mouth and his eyes can’t quite possibly say all that he wants to. I love you, I’m sorry. “You look good.” It’s weak, Santiago knows it as he huffs out a laugh.

“You look tired.” It’s said more of a truth than an insult. He’s sad when he looks at him like someone he used to know. Frankie probably hasn’t had a good night's sleep in three years and that is Santi’s only consolation prize. He got a broken heart and Frankie got perpetual insomnia. “You can stay as long as you want Fish…dinner will be ready in an hour.” Santi exits the bedroom, closing the door softly, leaving his new cologne in the omnium of your scent that clings to him.

As long as he wants and as long as he needs are two very different things. He’s just glad as he takes a bite of the cookie that he’s graduated from Frank to Fish. This cookie tastes how you look. Sickly sweet and warm on his tongue. He’s glad Santi has left the room because he didn’t recognize the sounds coming from him as he savored his first homemade provisions in over three years. Surviving on street food that his stomach hated and questionable canned meat products. He can taste you on his tongue as he finishes the first cookie in the blink of an eye. Four of them stacked on the plate before eating dinner seemed like overkill at first but Santiago had tasted your cookies... He gets to indulge in them whenever he wants and this is just his way of taunting Frankie. He knows Frankie is a weak man who hasn’t let himself enjoy the pleasures in life for quite a while. Temporary pleasures don’t measure up to this.

He kicks off his shoes and props himself up against the pillows again as he absentmindedly reaches for another. A cool breeze whips his face as he looks up at the spinning blades. Santiago must have turned it on without him noticing. His mama always used to tell him to slow down and enjoy his food so he does in this moment. The first one he ate with such urgency like it would be his last, this one he can savor the hints of cinnamon and vanilla. The gooey chocolate makes a mess on his fingers. He glances over to see no napkin so he licks it off getting a hint of salt and peanut butter. There’s no way you could know unless Santiago told you. He holds it in front of him to inspect and sees the small peanut butter chips melted in. That was always his favorite and only Santi knew.

It’s much easier to fall asleep as he polished off the last cookie and most of the milk. This one hour felt better than any full night of sleep he got when he wasn’t home.

****

Frankie feels like his body weighs a ton. Waking up from his nap is disorienting as he remembers where he is. Sleeping in a room he never thought he’d be in, in a place he never thought he’d ever come back to. This short slumber after being sleep deprived for so long is like serving someone an appetizer and telling them the restaurant is closing early.

He showed up unexpectedly and you took it in stride. Like you’ve been here waiting for him this whole time to put the pieces back together. Frankie doesn’t think you’d mind if he skipped out on dinner for some much needed rest but his stomach grumbles as he stares at the empty plate next to him. The smell of garlic,onions and peppers coax him out of the bed as he stretches his creaky bones. He can hear laughter and the clinking of plates as he walks down the hallway, it dawns on him that he hasn’t showered in twelve hours but he doesn’t want to keep you waiting any longer. He’s been enough of a burden these last few years and he won’t let you bear the load any longer.

“Hola bella durmiente.” Santi’s teasing voice hits his ears before he sees him. He wants to flip him off but he’s too tired and that feels too normal.

Frankie glances at the time on the oven as you finish plating something that smells like home. “Shit it’s been two hours.” Santi whistles at him to sit down as he scrubs his hands through his hair.

“Don’t worry about it Francisco, this man takes four hour naps.” You lean over setting the plate down in front of him and your boyfriend. He watches you plant a kiss on Santi’s head, not to flaunt it but just because it’s second nature.

“You never take naps.”

“I’ve learned to relax.” Santi says with a mouthful of food as he points his fork. “You should learn to do the same, Frankie.”

He can breathe a sigh of relief that he can be Frankie again, even in jest.

He takes a bite as you settle in across from him, it’s perfect much like the cookies as he closes his eyes not afraid of the moan that leaves him. “Holy shit this is better than Santi’s Chile verde.”

Santi takes your hand placing a kiss on your fingers. “That’s why I don’t make it anymore.”

“Well don’t be shy, there’s plenty on the stove.” You smile at him and he notices then that you changed. A light touch of makeup and a little perfume. Santi’s still in his tee shirt and jeans but you’ve ditched the old ratty Metallica shirt and swapped it for a bright yellow blouse and jeans.

Santi clears his throat interrupting Frankie observing you. “She’s an amazing chef. She takes a lot of pride in her work, and I take my job as the Guinea pig very seriously.” He leans back and pats his belly.

You’re practically beaming at him as you stand to take his empty plate. He gently grabs your wrist urging you to sit as he absentmindedly grabs Frankie’s to serve them up some more.

****

Frankie used to run from his compliments or brush them off as nothing. He was always too afraid of the praise not realizing how hurtful it was to the other man when he would wave him off. Santi loves you in the way he always wanted Frankie to love him.

He’s grateful for the small talk during the rest of the evening. A few beers and a way too nice bottle of wine has him comfortably buzzed as he listens to you talk about how you met Santiago. In true Santiago form he almost ruined it before it even began.

It was at Will's wedding a little over a year ago.Santiago assumed you were a guest of the bride because he’s certain he would remember meeting you in the many years he’d known Will. He saw you just before the ceremony in a navy blue silk suit, the plunging neckline leaving nothing to the imagination. You looked lost and a little irked when he approached you asking to save him a dance.

He looked for you in the sea of unfamiliar faces during the ceremony and again during the reception. It wasn’t until a very unfortunate moment with a clingy bridesmaid in his lap drunkenly telling him about her new piercing that he locked eyes with you. There was a humorous look on your face as you winked at him. Two men approached you in matching white button ups and black ties and you snapped to attention. He could always tell when someone was giving orders and needed to be taken seriously. The men scurry away when you’re done speaking and start gathering plates and cutlery. Your face relaxes again and you wink at him exiting the ballroom as the girl screeches in his ear ‘are you even listening to me?”

“No sweetheart I’m not.” He quickly displaces her from his lap as she stands there dumbstruck by his actions.

He bursts through the doors and is met with a mostly empty kitchen. You’re standing there wide eyed with another girl in the matching uniform. “Finish boxing up the leftovers for the newlyweds and then you’re good to go.” You brush her arm as you walk past and beeline it straight for him.

“Lost?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“No I ugh…you…-“ He’s scrambling as you stare him down unwavering.

“A man of many words I see.” You pick a piece of lint off his suit jacket and he notes your close proximity.

“You never danced with me.” He teases and you laugh a little. It’s a start

“You seemed to already have a dance partner…and as you can see.” You gesture around the kitchen. “I was a little busy.”

“Oh her…I don’t even know her name.” He winces as you give him an incredulous look.

You’re already walking away toward the ballroom doors before he can recover. He’s hot on your heels, never one to back down from a challenge. “So I can’t convince you to dance with me?”

You spin and he has to stop himself from crashing into you. “Maybe some other time Santiago.” You kiss him on the cheek, leaving a red lipstick reminder for any unknown nameless women.

“Wait…how do you know my name!?”

“I was warned about you.” You yell over your shoulder as you exit the kitchen leaving him there stunned.

It took a lifetime of bribes and I owe yous and promises of future baby sitting to get your number from Will. His wife Emma was pissed until you weaved your way into their lives and the rest is history.

****

It’s been at least an hour since you went off to bed, saying your goodnights to both men. They stayed mostly silent on the couch as they stared at some movie on the tv. Neither one of them paid any attention. Just waiting for any signs of life from you to die down in the bedroom down the hall.

Santi knew your night routine like the back of his hand. You’d wash your face of any makeup and apply what he thought was an absurd amount of creams and oils. You’d sit gingerly on the edge of the bed as you applied this lotion that smelled of rose and coconut, taking your time to cover every inch of your body. Smiling at him all the while asking if he’d like to join to which he’d just tell you one of you had to be rough in the relationship. On the nights he didn’t personally see to it that you were passed out you’d read a few chapters of your book before falling asleep with your finger marking the page and he’d gently retrieve it from you before kissing your forehead making sure not to wake you.

It’s this thought that’s ticking away at him as he counts down the minutes silently while he watches Frankie’s leg nervously bounce beside him. He’s sitting in the spot he used to but he feels miles away. Stark contrast to how they used to be on this couch, cuddling and laughing while they talked about their future.

“Do you love her?”

The words that leave Frankie’s mouth rip through the silence like the sound of a thunder clap. Only the light from the tv illuminates the look on Santi’s face but Frankie can see it clear as day. It’s moments like these that Santi’s aware of his high blood pressure as the sound of his heartbeat whooshes in his ears.

“How dare you ask me that.” His voice starts low but the rage behind it is threatening to boil over.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“Yes I love her.” He says a little louder, no lie or waver to his voice.

Frankie scrubs his jaw as he huffs under his breath. “I’m glad you moved on.” The sarcasm dripped from his tone and now Santi is seeing red.

Santi grabs the remote, flicking off the tv plunging them into darkness. “You think I just moved on the moment you left. You do remember being the one who left right?” He hates how Frankie can so quickly get under his skin. This is the exact reaction he wanted from him and he took the bait. “I waited for you. I waited and waited until Will had to pick me up off the floor and make me shower and eat and really take a look at the situation.”

Santi stands and paces the room as Frankie watches someone he thought he knew open up like he’s never done before. Santi loved him but he always let Frankie take the lead. He never put himself first and it almost swallowed him up whole. Frankie knows it’s not fair to judge any of his actions but he’s a scared animal backed into a corner and this is all he’s got left. One last fight before he lunges out in hope’s that Santi will tell him something to justify what he did.

“You may have been torn up for a bit but you look pretty comfortable to me.” Frankie gestures around the room as he stands in front of Santi. “You’ve got nice home cooked meals, all your friends, a beautiful house and someone to fuck at the end of a long day.”

Santi grabs his shirt shoving him back down to the couch. “Don’t act like your bed wasn’t warm these last three years. You and I both know how you are Frank.” Fuck he’s back to Frank.

“I didn’t love any of them.” Frankie says as Santi rolls his eyes.

“You want an award for not falling in love with them.” Frank grits his teeth as the sing song words ooze out of Santi’s mouth while he claps his hands in his face.

“You should keep your voice down, you wouldn't want to wake up your wife.” Frankie says and with no remorse Santi knows he’s wounded. A small part of him is glad for it.

With his voice barely above a whisper as he leans down face to face with Frankie. “She’s not my wife, and you’re not my husband.”

****

Santi quietly closes the door as he watches your sleeping form. It’s one of his favorite things to do. The steady rise and fall of your chest, wondering what peaceful things drift in your dreams. You’re wearing one of his shirts and probably nothing else. Majority of your wardrobe when you weren’t at work consisted of his clothing. It stirred something in him he’d never experienced before you. The way he was possessive over you…he never understood why Frankie would act the way he did when men and women would flirt with him until he met you.

How dare Frankie question his love and his loyalty. He was the one who walked away. How dare he look at you the way he did, thinking Santi wouldn’t notice the desire in his eyes.

“Baby, are you coming to bed or do you want to keep holding the door up?” Your sleepy voice grabs his attention as you pat the spot beside you.

He pushes off the door and pulls his shirt off, tossing it aside.”I thought you were asleep.” His jeans and belt hit the floor with a thud as he sits on the edge of the bed.

“I was but I could hear your thoughts in my dreams.” You sit up wrapping your arms around him. Your hands drift to his stomach, his soft abs flex under your touch as he relaxes against you. You know he wants to say something. The elephant in the room that is Frankie.

“I love you.” His voice barely above a whisper. He squeezes your hand and brings it up to his chest. You can feel the rapid beat of his heart under your fingers.

“I love you too.”He shivers as your lips graze the faint scar traveling down his neck. A reminder of something he’s been through with you that Frankie wasn’t there for. His need for you is made all that more evident with the man he loved, loves in the room down the hall.

He shifts so fast your head is spinning as he pins you underneath him. Whatever thoughts were plaguing him before are long gone with his hands roaming underneath his shirt to graze the soft skin under your breast. His lips swallow your whine as he rolls your nipple between his fingers reveling in the way your body responds to him.

You can feel the hard press of his cock beneath his boxers as he rolls his hips into you. Searching for some kind of friction.

“I need this off.” His voice is strained as he pulls the shirt over your head.

You chuckle trying to reach for him as he shoves his boxers down, laughter dies in your throat at the sight of him. The moonlight in the room illuminates his hard cock, dark at the tip leaking precum on the sheets below.

His hands slide up your thighs as he squeezes the flesh between his fingers. His grip tightens as he cups your ass, lifting you slightly to wrap your legs around him. “Look at you…and you’re all mine.”

You’re breathless as you reach for him, pulling him into your chest.”Santi, kiss me.” You don’t have to ask him twice, your voice is like a siren song as he dips his tongue into you. He can taste the mint from your toothpaste and your cherry chapstick. Mine.

He should go slow, work you open like he always does. He drags the tip through your slick folds and a soft whimper leaves your mouth. You’re being too quiet…because of him. His hands gently press your throat as he buries himself to the hilt. A louder whine escapes you, he knows it drives you crazy as he squeezes just enough to have you panting.

“Fuck I need you, I’m sorry.” He releases your throat and starts an unrelenting pace as you quickly adjust to his size. He’s never been this desperate, not willing to make you come on his mouth or fingers first.

Your body doesn’t seem to care as the slick wet sound of your bodies and your pussy clenching with each thrust has him growling in your ear. “I want to hear you.” He wraps his arms underneath you and grips your shoulders.

“Santi…please.” You don’t want to be used for his anger and revenge but you can’t think straight with his cock ramming that spot deep inside you.

“Please what baby?” He fucks you harder as he watches your face contort in pleasure as you chant his name. He bites down on the swell of your breast and you cry out as he licks and soothes the spot with his tongue.

“Santi…I’m so close.” He knows…he can feel how close you are as your heels dig into his back, your blunt nails scratch at his scalp and you arch your body as your climax washes over you. “Come inside me please, Santi.”

Images flash in his mind of Frankie fucking you through your orgasm as you scream his name, his cock is pulsing and throbbing inside you as he fills you up. His deep ragged breaths in your ear as the aftershocks jolt through him. “I love you.” He says it over and over as he kisses your face, your mouth, your sweat soaked forehead. He’s really saying I’m sorry but those words mean the same right now.

“I love you too baby.” Your voice is wrecked from screaming, having long forgotten about your houseguest. You know this is what he wanted and a small part of you wanted it to. Santiago is yours to keep.

****

Shame washes over Frankie as he cleans his spend off his stomach with his tee shirt. He pulls his boxers up and sits on the edge of the bed staring out into the backyard.

It’s quiet now, in his post orgasmic clarity. All he has are the thoughts running through his mind. The thoughts that have plagued him since he set foot back into this house. How selfish it is to want what’s down the hall in a place he called home.

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chronically-ghosted · 5 months

Text

there ain't enough room in this Pontiac for the two of us

rating: E for Explicit! 18+

word count: 8K

pairing: javier peña x f!reader

summary: 1. No sex. 2. No touching yourself. 3. No orgasms. 4. No murdering your annoying DEA partner. (A Javier Peña-shaped rift on this iconic fic)

tags/warnings: smut, dubcon/noncon elements, hand jobs (f receiving), no use y/n, javi being sexually frustrating as hell, time period compliant sexism (not from Javi)

a/n: please go read the original fic. Her’s is far superior to mine and this is but a shameful hollow echo.

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Bogota

11:23PM

Back before you willingly and eagerly joined the special task force between several unruly government organizations created with sole and express purpose to hunt down and catch the cartel king Pablo Escobar – before you applied to the DEA on the highest recommendation of your law professor, your criminal psychology professor, and the dean of admission, all whom believed your talents, (despite the unfortunate accident that you were a woman) would have a deep and profound impact on catching those responsible for the deaths of thousands worldwide – hell, even before you applied to Stanford and you spent your free time oscillating between color guard, JROTC, and retaking your practice SATs and ACTs until you got nearly a perfect score so that the realization that you didn’t have one single friend in the world to distract you from your single-minded almost obsessive focus to prove yourself, despite all your faults –

Before all of that –

If someone had discreetly taken you by the arm, gently sat you down, and told you what a perfect and deluded idiot you would make of yourself on a seven hour stake out on a dark, rainy night in the capital of Colombia, well, you probably would have laughed them out the door.

You aren’t one really predisposed to bouts of uncontrollable, side-splitting, “I’m laughing so hard I’m afraid to take a breath out of fear of the noise that’s going to come out of my nose” laughter, but if someone allowed you to take a good, long, healthy look at one of your more unhealthy habits – that, of course, being your almost toxic levels of competitive behavior – you might have been prone to at least one giggle.

The thing was, you really didn’t lose. Ever. You didn’t back then and you don’t now and your tenacious, unbreakable will made you not only a formidable and dogged DEA agent, but it also (and perhaps more importantly) made you a social, professional, and absolutely mental equal to men like Javier fucking Peña.

Javier Peña, whom women would literally melt into a puddle around, whom men would clamor over themselves just to get a drink with. He’s just so fucking cool, you overheard one of the office interns mutter to another, just look at him. That was also the day you spilled coffee down your entire blouse because you squeezed your styrofoam coffee cup too hard, but that was an entirely unrelated matter.

Whatever sway Peña seemed to inflict over the panties of every woman in the building, you resolutely stayed immune. When you first joined, it had been easy to avoid him. So much so, you were completely flummoxed when the man with the name you’d heard whispered in the hallways, finally made his way over to your side of the building for a meeting with your boss. He walked in with a badly-fitted suit, bags under his eyes, the reeking stench of day-old cigarettes, but by the reactions of the phone girls, you’d thought Elvis himself had just emerged from his coffin and began performing “Hound Dog” topless in bedazzled pants.

This? This is “The Guy”? The guy that women on your floor would spend their entire lunch breaks in the bathroom comparing stories over – “yes, Kathy, I heard his dick really is that huge!” “Yes, Shannon swears he made come for hours just with his tongue!”

Him?

Really?

Was it just slim pickings between married men and wheezing senators?

Never meet your heroes, I guess.

That was back in the late 80s. Back before the bombings and the kidnappings and the mutilated bodies of journalists.

Things had changed. Significantly.

Once things had gotten – let’s just say, dire – the agency started moving around teams, prioritizing certain missions over others. Which meant not only were you taken off a case you had just spent the better part of a year and a half building, but you were reassigned to a new team. Co-led by the one and only Javier. Fucking. Peña.

Now, Javier didn’t like the rain, especially not after a seven hour stake out. You knew this because every time it rained, he stormed into the pen, snorting like an enraged bull, his hair wet and his shoulders damp. Why the man couldn’t just simply go out and pick up an umbrella, you didn’t feel the need to ask. But it set your teeth on edge that a grown adult would be so annoyed by something that had such a simple solution. More than once you thought about hurling your own umbrella like a javelin at him, but your fighting matches had become legendary around the office and you refused to be provoked again by Javier’s own arrogance.

But that’s what started all of this, right?

You, with your white-hot competitive streak, and him, with his over-inflated ego, clashed again and again – until finally about the one thing both brought you a sense of pride: your sex lives.

Annoyingly, this was proving more difficult than you anticipated.

Thumbing the rim of your third lukewarm coffee of the night, you sigh, long and loud, not entirely regretful of the choices that led you here, but simply rather irked that someone had come along and finally proved to be a real challenge.

“Shut it.”

“Excuse me?”

Javier, who had been sitting next to you for the better part of the past seven hours, his long legs tucked up around the bulky wheel of the black Pontiac Firefly the agency had rented for this mission, continues to scowl through the dark and the rain at the spot where you had tracked one of Pablo’s higher ranking enforcers. A gambling den on the first floor, and a brothel in the basement, most men you tailed here spent only a few hours betting and fucking, before wandering back home, probably a little drunk and significantly less horny. But this guy – fuck – did he have the stamina of an Olympic athlete?

What had begun as a quick follow up to some intel your team received earlier in the week had turned into one of the longest and most unbearable nights of your life.

“I said, shut it.”

Your mouth drops open. “I am literally just breathing, Javier.”

“Yeah and you’re doing it too loud.” He takes a sip from the coffee between his legs then resumes his hunched, crossed arm position. “It’s annoying.”

Huffing, you sink lower in your seat, as much as the surveillance equipment and evidence boxes around your legs would allow.

“This is so stupid,” you grumble.

“This is basic DEA work, sweetheart. If you can’t cut it, I’m sure I can find someone – literally anyone – else to take your spot. Sarah’s always been eager to spend some extra time alone with me. Or what about Mac? You two get along right? Who am I kidding? You get along with e-e-everyone–,”

It is infuriating he knows exactly where to poke and prod to supercharge your competitiveness as well as your jealousy.

“I’m not talking about the sting, Javier! I’m talking about your need to always be in control. I’m talking about how, just because you can’t get your fucking rocks off, you’ve been sniping at everyone in the building.” You scowl and lean as far away from him as you can in the cramped hatchback. “Making everyone’s lives hell because you haven’t gotten your dick wet in a month.”

“Oh, sure, I’m the only one being a fucking nuisance in the office,” he sneers, scratching at his forehead with his thumbnail. “After your little meltdown at the copier machine, I think Mark from accounting would rather fist-fight God than have to ask you for a stapler again.”

You snatch up the used napkins in the cupholder between you and shred it to pieces. You chuck the little bits at him as you snap back,

“The. Stapler. Was. Right. There! He. Was. Being. Stupid!”

“Stop it! You’re going to get it in my coffee!”

With a snarl, you hurl the mangled rest of the napkin at him and he swats it out of the air. It rolls over the dashboard, fluttering in the AC that was doing absolutely nothing to combat the sticky humidity.

He did this to you. He always did this to you. Made you feel like a silly child, an overly emotional brat, for pointing out things he did time and time again. Why was he allowed to get away with it and you weren’t?

In the temporary silence, the rain patters loudly on the roof of the car. Headlights emerge from the gloom and disappear as the few unlucky caught out in this deluge run from awning to awning with magazines, newspapers, or umbrellas tucked over their heads. It had been raining for hours and it seemed to have no intention of stopping anytime soon.

You aren’t sure which irritates you more: the humidity or the stickiness gathering on the crotch of your panties.

It had been there for days, constant, a reminder, no matter how often you changed them out for some temporary escape. Your thighs tightened as close as they could, but a large storage box split your legs apart.

“You know,” Javier begins softly, almost contrite, gentle in a way you’d never heard before. He's pinching the edge of his coffee cup with his fingers, resolutely not looking at you. “If this bothers you so much, you can just quit. Call it off. No hard feelings.”

You snort. He really is the most ridiculous man alive.

“Yeah? You’d get the satisfaction of finally coming, after being hard for at least – what, a month, month and a half? – and half my next paycheck? I don’t think so.” You adjust in your seat, your left hip starting to ache from the position you’ve been maintaining for seven hours. “Well, the money’s one thing. But I think I’d rather be physically shot than have to listen to you parade around the office, gleefully spilling secrets about me as your latest conquest, bragging to all your little buddies around the water cooler how you finally bested that bitch in the bullpen. At that point, I’d rather we just actually fuck. At least that way I can finally understand what the fuck has the secretaries all in a goddamn hissy fit over.”

After nearly a third of the day spent next to you, he finally tears his gaze away from the target and looks at you. His dark eyebrows drawn down, plush lips frowning, he’s unnervingly serious. You wonder if you actually managed to make him genuinely angry.

“I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t brag about you to anyone, even if you lost. And I especially would never if you let me fuck you.” Let me? Now that’s a turn of phrase you definitely won’t spend hours thinking about. His frown deepens as he glances down to his coffee cup. “People – women – like to talk, but I never say anything, to anyone. I don’t encourage it, but it feels like I’m the one being checked off a list. Like I’m a space on a fucking bingo card. It’s rude.”

Gobsmacked into silence, you watch as he cranks down the window for just enough space to chuck his (and yours) empty coffee cups out onto the wet road beside the car. You let him tug it out of from between your legs without a single line of snark.

Your brain finally comes back online when the window squeaks back into place.

Hang on a second – did you really just feel bad for the office casanova? That little shit manipulated you into actually feeling sorry for the dozens of women he willingly brings home then turns out like used toilet paper. You can feel that decades old hate and disgust crack open and boil in your stomach.

“Well, hey, Javi, here’s an idea. Just stop fucking the women you work with. If it bothers you so much, then stop fucking women entirely!”

“I did! I have done that and I am!” He gestures wildly with his hands, palms out as if in supplication. “Everyone in the office – including Noonan, I’m pretty sure – knows about this stupid fucking bet and for once, it’s been great to have an excuse to not have to hold up my expectation of being a great lay!”

You will not allow yourself the time to fully process the idea that not only is Javier Peña grateful to not have to fuck a skirt, but it’s you he’s doing it for, so you snarl back, as you always do.

“Then what? What’s got you so fucking wound up, if your poor dick needs a break from getting sucked?”

With a groan that starts somewhere in his lower ribcage, he falls forward into the steering wheel, his forehead on the rim.

“I’m not saying that, alright? It’s actually been nice to have my bed to myself for a bit. But Jesus Christ, I miss pussy.”

Don’t.

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about the way he says it. Like it’s holy.

The warmth of the humidity in the car ratchets up as your heart starts to race, your palms sweat. You wonder vaguely if there’s condensation on the inside of the windows. He shouldn’t be allowed to get you so wet by just saying the word. You swallow, clawing back that familiar anger until you feel in control again.

“So then go get it.” You wave your hand around the dark streets of Bogota. “Just go out there and end this thing once and for all. God knows I’m sick and tired of having to listen to you roll around, grunting and huffing, with a hard-on so big I can almost hear it.”

“What are you so mad at me for?” He snaps up, a much more palatable rage in his eyes. “All of this – the bet, the rules, the fact that you actually included wet dreams – you decided on!”

“You’re the one who demanded you move into my apartment for the entire duration of this hell! You’re the one who went out and bought two twin beds like a fucking maniac and made me take out my bed to put in your little torture devices to make sure neither of us cheated off the clock!”

“And you agreed to it! I’m not the only insane one here! Sometimes I think you do it on purpose – kicking and fighting with the sheets, moaning in your sleep, rubbing yourself up on the mattress. Twice now I’m pretty sure I’ve gone blind in one eye, listening to all that and not being able to do a goddamn thing about it.”

You scoff, but now slightly uneasy. You’ve been moaning in your sleep? Fuck. Taking down your overbearing and egotistical coworker a few pegs was one thing. Becoming roommates with him was something else entirely. About two weeks in, he had come out of the bedroom without his shirt on – he’s been doing that more and more lately – and you had to sit in the bathroom with your hands clamped around the toilet seat for ten minutes straight to keep from finger-fucking yourself on the living room coffee table.

“I’m honestly surprised you didn’t want to install cameras in the shower just to make sure I’m not jacking off in secret. You better not be doing what I think you’re doing in there, Javi. You touch yourself once and I win, Javi. Stop looking at my ass when I’m wearing less clothes than a Victoria Secret model, Javi.”

“It’s summer in Bogota, you jackass,” you snipe, particularly ruffled by his high-pitched affectation of you. It stings more than it should because it sounds exactly like the shrill harpy all your male coworkers make you out to be. “What do you want me to wear?”

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, something terrifying like a smirk crawling across his perfect mouth and you feel the safety of annoyance crumble out from under you. He really is so fucking pretty.

“A puffy snowsuit would be lovely, actually. Arms, legs, all wrapped up. Cover your gorgeous hair in a hat too, if we’re at it. But if I knew you’d wear what I bought you, all you had to do was say so. Women always say I have excellent taste.”

You sigh, again, irritated and desperate to relieve that fist of tension in your shoulders, that gently knotting warmth between your legs. You wonder how much rubbing your crotch with the seam of your jeans you could get away with before he’d say something.

No, fuck, shit – focus. You’ve got to get a grip. This is just like those long night study sessions at the academy. All you had to do was buckle down and get serious about this. Sleep deprivation and curtailing your basic instincts didn’t scare you. You had been outlasting men like Javier your entire life and you weren’t about to get weak-kneed now.

And then something occurs to you that you hadn’t really considered before.

You had been so caught up in your own denial, in fighting your own need to hump your pillow even for a bit of relief – you hadn’t stopped to think what this might be doing to him.

Jesus Christ, I miss pussy.

Here's a crack in his resolve and you had seen it. Just for a minute. But it's there. You didn’t have to win so much as to make him lose.

Javier Peña. Nowhere to go and having nothing to fuck made him a very dangerous man. One you could easily exploit. However, and as much as it physically pained you to admit, Javier was smart. Blind-sided by his own horniness, or not, if he caught wind of you purposefully stacking the odds against him, there was no telling what he’d do in retaliation.

For a moment, your sex-deprived brain lounges in the idea of the many forms his retaliation might take.

No – Focus. You lick your lips, wrenching your gaze to the ceiling of the car. You had to be very careful about this.

“Look, I’m sorry, alright?” Go at it from the side. Around back while his attention is focused elsewhere. This was fucking guerilla warfare tactics. Placate him with submission. “I didn’t realize my outfits were bothering you. It’s just . . . it’s been so hot lately. I feel like I wake up, drenched wet in sweat, and it’s just too much still. And then, with this bet, sometimes I wake up and between my legs, I’m so –,”

A fist slams against the inside of the window so hard and so loud it makes you jump. His shoulders hunched, the fist in his lap tight and white-knuckled, he doesn’t even fully open his mouth when he snarls, “Do not . . . under any circumstances . . . finish that fucking sentence.”

He’s breathing heavily, breath skipping between his ribs, and you know you’ve got your opening. Your bottom lip drawn in between your teeth, you’re as much transfixed by his control visibly slipping as you are secretly, darkly thrilled to hear him make those noises. He breathes for a few more times, eyes closed. The sound of rain makes another appearance.

His hands come up to wrap around the steering wheel, as if he were picturing something else flexing beneath his palms.

“I know what you’re doing, or what you think you’re doing. But it’s not going to work. It’s just going to make me mad and I am not above hauling you over my lap and spanking you for being such a tease.”

You aren’t sure what shorts out your brain first: the fact he caught on so quickly, or the mental image he’s painting – and how much you fucking love it. God, when did it get so hot in here? You can feel sweat pooling along the ridge of your spine, under the cups of your bra. As though reading your mind, he shucks off his notorious brown jacket and hurls it into the back seat. Your toes curl in your boots. He’s wearing that white linen shirt that expertly shows off the cut of his biceps, his forearms and is more appropriate for a beach trip in Hawaii than the mean streets of Bogota. In his movement, his infamous sunglasses clatter against his stomach – if he just buttoned his collar all the way up like any man with an ounce of decency, they wouldn’t get in the way as much. You want to tell him that, correct him yet again, but now you can see the sweat shine in his clavicle, skin slightly pink and feverish over the hollow of his throat. You had no idea you affected him this much.

“You’re right. This is ridiculous.” He huffs, tossing back his glasses too before flopping back against the seat. “This can’t be healthy, at least. Edging ourselves for weeks at a time. I keep seeing tits in the clouds.”

“So then end it already.” You don’t mean to sound breathless – it’s the opposite of what you want – but your heart rate still hasn’t settled over the idea of Javier spanking you till your ass is red. He’s so much bigger than you, broader. He’d do it rough, if you asked, you know he would. You really hate to sound like you’re begging, but maybe you are. His eyes snap open wide at your near whimper. “Javi, please. We’re not going anywhere. He’s been in there for hours and he’s not coming out any time soon. Just unbutton your pants – I can just watch you – drop your hand in your underwear and –,”

A hand that can cup you nearly from ear to ear flies across the console and claps over your mouth. Something’s changed about him. You can see it in his eyes. At this point in your partnership, you had become fairly good at identifying his emotions, given there were only a handful he ever cycled through: tired, irritated, bored, furious, frustrated, disappointed. But this . . . this is different. His shoulders still face forward, arm reached out over the console, but his thick eyebrows arch down, as if he’s considering something. His head is cocked slightly to the side. You have to stop yourself from breathing in a sigh when his tongue wets his bottom lip.

“I’ll willingly lose this godforsaken bet on one condition,” he rasps out. His hand is warm, all consuming, you can barely breathe under it. You train your entire focus into the way his hair flops over his forehead to keep from whining at what his deep voice does to your lower half. Your muscles clench and your neglected pussy drools. Fuckin’ traitor. “And the condition is, that after this is done, after this fucking doomed stakeout is finally over, I drive us home and you let me rail you against our couch. How does that sound?”

You squeak, once. That’s it, but you can already feel that tell-tale hum, that warmth that almost itches, taking root below your stomach. His eyebrows arch in surprise, in victory, that smirk threatening to make an appearance. Your nails dig into the pleather seat – you want to thrash back, to get out from under the weight of his hand, to snark back a litany of responses that are not only mean but belittling – but you don’t.

You know he can feel you swallow and his eyelids hover halfway as he licks his bottom lip. He shifts, elbow now pressing against the back of the seat, his weight leaning forward, almost pressing down on you. His other hand is dangerously close to your knee.

“I’d make it good. I’d make it so fucking good, I swear. I’ll get down on my hands and knees and eat that wet little pussy for as long as you want. Lick and suck that attitude right out of your cunt.”

The car is too small, too cramped. Heat is washing over you in waves and the ache between your thighs is burning. With him this close, you can smell his cologne, the cologne that you rib him endlessly for because you’ve watched women inhale it like a pheromone as he passes down the hall. The scent now floods your senses, choking out everything that isn’t him, and your fingers dig up around his wrist, to pry him off you. You can feel sweat trickle down your temple onto his pinkie over your cheek. He watches it with his eyes, hungry and ready to devour. You have to wrestle back some semblance of control, or else your heart is going to beat out of your chest.

With all the strength left over from keeping yourself from bucking your hips up into the center console, you shove him back across the car.

“You fucking . . . stay over there,” you croak, gulping down air as if you had been deprived. He sprawls back, arms outstretched across the window ledge and the back of his seat. “Don’t ever fucking t-touch me again. Those things y-you said. I should report you–,”

“Why?” he chuckles. “You liked it. Thought you were going to eat me there for a minute . . . and I would’ve let you.”

It’s remarkably easy how your white-knuckled, lightning-sparked anticipation for him to do exactly what he said he’d do quickly morphs into a near-blinding rage. He doesn’t get it – he still doesn’t get it – he thinks this all a fucking game, when every minute of every day, your entire self-worth was put on the line.

But this is how you danced with him – right up to the edge, barking, screaming, yelling, then when it got real, or even almost real, you backed down. And he knew it.

“You really deserve someone who knows what they’re doing,” he continues. He folds his arms across his chest, grinning wildly. “Maybe that would teach you to be nice. Is that why you’re so nasty all the time? Someone who cares about you to properly stuff up that sweet little pussy in the way you need it?”

You feel fire crackle up and down your spine, plunging low to lick your insides every time he muses about the state of your cunt, then sky-rocketing back into this rage you’ve built out like walls.

It’s your turn to twist in the seat, to push against the windows as if you could expand and break out from this twisted scrap of metal that kept you chained to him.

“This is not about sex, Javier.” Your teeth ache from grounding out the words. “This is about proving to every single man out there that I deserve to be here. That I’m not just some cock-struck idiot who falls to her knees just because you snap your fingers. I don’t care what you think I need or what you want to do to me. I don’t care because until I come out of this bet the winner, all they’ll ever see is a pair of tits who negs them to do their fucking jobs.”

That wipes the smirk instantly off his face.

His eyes go soft and that might be worse than when he threatened your cunt.

“You think I don’t respect you.” It wasn’t a question but a surprised, almost hurt, statement. He sits up as best he can while still facing you. You were both irate and appreciative that you didn’t have to put it all into words. Words that would make you, again, feel like an overly emotional wimp. Someone with feelings. “You think I’m doing this – that I’m still doing this – because I want to humiliate you.”

You wait in silence for the pricking in your throat to subside before continuing on. “Is that not why? To bend that bitch as far as she’ll go before she breaks so everyone can see how much of a child she really is?”

His nostrils flare. “That’s the second time you’ve called yourself that tonight and I won’t stand for a third. Do you understand?”

His protectiveness flares so fast you aren’t quite sure what to do with it, so you nod.

“Good.”

Javier turns back around, his knees spread outright around the edge of the steering wheel, and picks the packet of cigarettes from underneath the radio. He wheels down the window again, rain spitting inside the inner ledge, and he lights up for the first time all night. His breath is shaky as he exhales through the crack he made. You can’t stop staring at the shine against his throat. What was rain and what was sweat? The golden lights from the store fronts and shops make the curls around his neck glow.

“I’m sorry that by fighting with you, I made you feel inferior. If you can believe it, I actually respect the living shit out of you and I . . .” He taps out ash before dropping his gaze to his lap. “That was never my intention, but Christ alive, you drive me crazy.”

If anyone ever asked, with a gun to your head, what was the one thing that immediately turned you on, you would without question answer with: Javier’s voice. How deep it got when he barked orders. How stern and serious it was when he directed raids and stationed soldiers. How playful it could be when you stopped trying to claw his eyes out.

He inhales slowly, thoughtfully, before blowing out again, fully turning his shoulders away from you as if something he is ashamed to admit is crawling up his chest into his mouth. He presses back against the seat, his unoccupied fingers tapping on his thigh.

“I think you’re one of the best agents I’ve ever met,” he confesses quietly. “Which should be the only opinion that matters, actually. I don’t say that to be egotistical – this bet isn’t about them. It’s between you and me, so fuck them. They’re all idiots and you know that. They know you know that and that’s why they want to take you down. Some men can’t stand it when a woman is smarter than them.”

Your tongue unsticks from the roof of your mouth. There is a heady mixture of pride, relief, and lust swirling lower and lower. He thought you were one of the best agents he’s ever met. Your lower half tightens at the praise, especially coming from him. “And you? What do you think?”

Javier grins. He flicks the butt end of the cigarette out the window and rolls it all the way up as he says,

“It’s a fucking turn on, is what I think.” His hips adjust towards you, that obnoxious belt buckle gleaming in the low light. Do not look at his crotch. He presses the backs of his two fingers against his mouth as he watches you. “But I’m not going to let you win this bet because you flutter your pretty eyes at me.”

He knocks his temple against the headrest, gaze shamelessly sweeping up your thighs, your wrists – of course, your tits – your neck and then your lips. You had caught glimpses of this look from him before – when you were reporting to a room full of slobbering men with precision and direction, or when you kneed a suspect into the ground, pinning him down and cuffing him with the other hand or that one time you joined the game of volleyball at the agency picnic in nothing but a sports bra and swim trunks. But now, that unique Javi look that seemed reserved only for you, it barrels down on you in full force – not another agent or superior around the corner to drag his attention away. Without restraint, he let those dirty, nasty little thoughts spring into his mind and you can almost hear the moans you're making in his head.

The desire that had been reduced to a simmer suddenly flares up in a fever pitch. Between your legs, your cunt aches at the mere hint of attention.

“Javier, don’t,” you warn. You try to back away, try to cut the argument in half like you do in the office by storming away down a hallway or into the bathroom or your car. But you can’t. You’re pinned by proximity under the weight of his stare. You’re not even fighting with him and he’s making you angry.

Angry? God, leave it to fucking Javier Peña to prove to you that the line between rage and being outrageously turned on was a razor-thin edge.

“I’m not even doing anything, baby,” he croons. He rounds his shoulders as if trying to lean forward, cover himself with his body. If you couldn’t see the whites of his knuckles around his clasped hands, you would have feared you would have been making this all up. “I’m not touching you, just like you asked.”

“Thank you, Javi,” you squeak out. “Now, please let's just get back to–,”

“I could, though, if you change your mind.” His eyes follow a very predictable path up the curve of your throat. “I could touch you. Are you going to change your mind?”

Even now, on the knife edge, even when he has been extraordinarily honest with you, you can’t make yourself say it. Can’t ask for it.

“It’s against the rules.” Because she's a traitor to you, your cunt leaks when you meet his jet black gaze. You feel the sweat on your neck return so fast you shiver. “I will kick you if you come over here again.”

“You’re so mean to me but, fuck, I love it so much.” He smirks. With mounting horror, you watch as he lifts his hand, the same one that flew over your mouth, up to the lip of the center console. “Here I am pouring my goddamn heart out, and you want to resort to violence.”

Not so much cautious, but more with the slow, syrupy flow of direct and deliberate intention, he brushes the backs of his fingers against your thigh. You jolt back, a muffed gasp caught between your teeth, but you don’t move to snatch his hand away.

He watches your face for any hint of resistance. When he doesn’t find any, he continues, casually flowing the pads of his fingers from the top of your knee, all the way up to your hip.

“Do you wanna know what I think, baby?” He purrs. “I think, somewhere along the way, someone came along and really fucked you up. Hurt you beyond comprehension.” His touch is more insistent now, more of his fingers, his palm occasionally. His thumbs sweeps your inner thigh and your cunt clenches down onto nothing and your teeth ache in your head.

“Javier–,”

His eyes flutter for a minute at the sound of his name tearing through your mouth. “Fuck, you’re getting me distracted . . . what was I saying? Oh, yeah . . . I think someone fucked you up and like the fucking warrior you are, you built up safeguards to never let that happen again.” His eyebrow arches lazily as he palms your waist. By the sheer grace of God, you had tucked your shirt into your pants today, never wanting to give the men in the bullpen the satisfaction of an accidental flash of skin. But Javier just tuts at the intrusion. His knuckles digging into your skin, he pinches out the edge of your shirt, bit by bit. “Problem is, you kept building until you locked yourself in and now you don’t know how to get out. You don’t know how to ask nicely at all.”

His broad palm slides uninterrupted under your shirt, smoothing the rough pads of his fingers across your stomach, and then up to the underwire of your bra. That’s enough to jerk you out of this dizzying haze.

“Javi, you can’t–,” you squeeze your eyes shut, as tight as your cunt, as he threatens to brush his thumb over your teased nipple. “I–I don’t wanna – I don’t wanna lose –,”

“Fuck the bet, sweetheart. You can tell them I lost for all I care. Right now, I just wanna feel you gush between my fingers.”

He doesn’t even need to touch your tit to yank that first moan out of you, but the breeze of his thumb only elongates the noise. Your own hand claps over your mouth this time, to muffle half of that stifled sound.

“None of that now,” he purrs, switching the direction of his hand and going lower on your body. “It’s fine when we’re in public, but here, I want you hoarse from screaming my name as loud as you can.”

“Javi, please–,”

His hips twitch. Twitch so hard they jerk off the seat, the side of his crotch rubbing the steering wheel. His eyes roll back in his head.

“Juuust like that, baby. Keep saying my name just like that.”

His fingers don’t slow down as they breach the waistband of your pants. He didn’t even unzip you so his entire warm hand is shoved right up against your coarse, damp hairs.

“Fuck, is this sweat, baby, or is it from me? Please fucking lie if it's not and tell me it’s for me.”

The pad of his middle finger skims the top of your lips, terrifyingly close to your clit and you finally react. Your clit throbbing, your fingers clamp down on his wrist and he freezes. But he’s panting, breathing harshly across the seat.

“Don’t ask me to stop. Not right now. Please don’t –,”

Your hips buck into his palm and your head drops back against the window. You end up pressing him harder against you and you moan.

“It’s you, Javier, I’m dripping for you.”

“Shit,” he snarls and rubs himself against the steering wheel again, anything to relieve the pressure. His fingers slide around the edges of your puffy, swollen lips, skitters across your pulsating clit, and you nearly orgasm from the direct touch. You jerk back, the denial of your orgasm almost painful, but because your waistband binds him to you, his fingers come with you and you bump into them again. You almost cry out at the intrusion, but his hand is still.

“Can I touch you– c-can I put them inside you, baby – please?”

Tight-lipped, you shake your head furiously, muffling nuh uh between your teeth. He hisses darkly.

“This can’t possibly still be about this stupid fucking bet –,”

“I don’t – w-w-wanna lose – I-I-I don’t wanna lose –,” you swallow, voice breaking, and you yank his hand out from your soaking underwear. You can’t bear to look at his fingertips, assuming from the ocean between your thighs, they’ll come out pruny. But the ache doesn’t go away. It lingers, waiting and lurking for the next touch. It’s been denied too many times tonight. Your head spinning, you gasp for breath for the split second he’ll allow.

“You know, for such a smart woman, you really don’t get what’s best for you.” His other hand finally comes around and grabs your knee, pinning you apart with his broad hand and his other elbow as his fingers dive for the buttons of your pants. You try to shut your legs, but the box at your feet is immovable. “Just fucking relax and let me take you apart.”

“W-w-wait, Javier, that’s not–,”

His gaze pinning you down as much as his weight is, his fingers deftly unzipping your pants, sliding through the opening, and pressing up against your sodden panties. You gasp. It’s relief, painful, throbbing relief, but it comes at the cost of fire licking your spine.

“But that’s not what you need, is it, pretty baby? That’s only part of it. Touching is one thing, but you need someone inside of you, don't you? Need someone to fuck up into that pretty cunt.” Your pussy swollen, you fight to breathe as much as it to fight off your impending orgasm. “Just say thank you, Javi when we’re done, alright?”

Unrelenting and deaf to your cries, his fingers strip back your underwear and finally, finally, finally, he sinks two fingers into your hot, pulsating core. His shoulders shudder as you arch back, letting out a wail. Your thighs quake around the box in front of you.

“‘Is so good. So warm.” He slurs. His hand releases your knee and slides up your hip to palm as much of your ass as he can reach. “Can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He inhales like he wants to haul you over the console into his lap, but that you resolutely cannot allow, because there would be no coming back from that. You can still see the other side of your orgasm, enough to stifle it back down, sequester it. He strokes your inner muscles, in and out, the wet sound obscene – you must be gushing – and he hums. “Listen to that, sweetheart. God, the things I could do with that. Put you over my fucking shoulder, for one.”

Your release is roaring at you, the razor-edge of pain and pleasure digging into the meat of your pussy, as you fight again to deny what you actually really want. You plant your heels, rolling your hips against his fingers because if you were going to fucking lose, you were going to be the one to make you do it. Not him.

And then unprompted, he retreats his fingers and all but shoves them into his mouth. His hips buck up again and he’s not breathing properly. You shudder at the loss of contact but at least the edges of your vision return. God, you’re not sure how much more you can take. But there is some respite, even for a moment. Javi seems to have momentarily forgotten how close he had come to winning.

Saliva and your thready cum dripping from between his lip, Javier sucks on his fingers as if someone were threatening to cut off his hand. His hips bump lazily, distractedly, against the steering wheel as his other hand white-knuckles his knee. He licks his wrist up to the meaty side of his palm, never one to waste excess.

“Fuck, fuck, f-f-fuck,” he murmurs, eyes closed. The sight has you flushing again. “I’m gonna eat that cunt whole if it’s the last thing I do. Gonna put you in my lap and bounce you on my cock until you beg me to let you –,”

“Come.” You command, sanity finally snapping as you use the same voice to scold rowdy students at the academy or talkative agents in a presentation. It’s forceful, direct, and you are hoping that it throws him off enough to do exactly that. Come, so you win fair and square. Because that means you can finally come too.

It works.

Or it nearly does.

Javier’s spine goes rigid, hips still, his soaked fingertips hovering inches from his wet lips. His eyes snap open and oh, shit, you’ve done it now, you’ve really done it now. His once blissed out face contorts into that scowl of primal determination that only comes down for raids. For meetings with sketchy CIs. Moments when lives are at stake.

“What did you just say to me?” The growl is more gnarled wolf than human. You immediately back up as far as the car will allow, the front of your pants still undone.

“Javi, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry –,” By his expression, you half-expect him to throw open the door, storm around to your side, yank you to your feet and start fucking you against the car window. Your cunt is throwing a fucking riot at this point. She’s so pissed at you, she’s squeezing so tightly, you think she’ll suck the air right out of you. “I wasn’t thinking – i-i-it just slipped out –,”

He unbuttons two more of his buttons on his shirt and you think, deliriously, he’s going to take his shirt off, but no, he’s just letting more heat escape. More steam rise from his sweaty back. He seems to grow, fill out, until he takes up the entire front seat of the car.

“Please, please, don’t make me come, Javi.” You cry, shrinking back as far as you can. You might actually die from this. From him or a lack thereof. Either way, Javier Peña is going to destroy you.

“I should leave you alone, you know.” He growls. “I should just leave you there to fucking drool into your jeans, smart little cunt knotted up so tight, I could breath on you and make you come. The kind of shit you pulled tonight, you fucking deserve to suffer. But I’m not going to do that and you know why?”

Without warning, his hand snatches around your wrist, yanking you up against the center console. He’s right, you’re so fucking close, the movement rubs you wrong and you squeak again.

Slowly, with superhuman restraint, his nose delicately strokes the underside of your jaw by your ear, then down your neck, as if inhaling the goosebumps that burst out across your skin. You shudder. “J-J-Javi, p-p-please –,”

His other hand slides back up under your shirt, his fingers slotting in between your ribs, your back as arched as it can go. He feels you breath shakily and he closes his eyes. His next words are so soft, spoken so close to your cheek, you can feel the hairs there vibrate with the frequency of his voice.

“I’m not going to do that because I want you to know exactly what the fuck has the secretaries in a goddamn hissy fit over. I want you to think of me and me only every time you try to open your legs for anyone else. I want you to cry in frustration every time you can’t make yourself come with just your fingers because they’re not mine – they’re nowhere close to mine – and I want you to scream in frustration when I don’t pick up the phone. After tonight, I’m going to ruin you for everyone else.”

He pauses, as if expecting an answer, but he couldn’t possibly think you are capable of responding, of dredging actual human thought up out of the murk he held you under. His lips drag gently over the arc of your cheek as he leans into your ear. His voice rumbles and you whine, embarrassed, at the sound alone.

“Because that’s what you’ve done to me.”

No, no, that can’t possibly be right – it’s a trick. It’s a trap. It’s a lie. Javier Peña can’t actually be –

And then, in that same, slow timbre of voice, Javi says,

“I’m gonna finger-fuck you now, okay?”

Any chance of fighting back, of arguing still, is obliterated when his hand shoots back down between your thighs, surges past your underwear, and hooks his fingers up inside you again. This time it’s fast, he’s not waiting for you to gather your sense, he’s going to split you open, here in this fucking Pontiac.

The force of his thrusts make your spine turn to ooze and you drop forward onto his shoulder.

Fine. It’s fine. You’ll fucking lose. Who cares about your precious pride?

You don’t realize you’re whimpering in time with his fingers until you try to say his name. He cups the back of your head, reverently, as he spews more filth into your ear. As if the lewd noises he’s evoking from your pussy isn’t enough.

“I’m going to take care of you, you little sweet cunt. I’m going to take care of you the way no one else has. That’s right, that’s a good little pussy, squealing for me. Hmm, tell me, does she like this?”

His thumb merely brushes your clit, the lone survivor in all of this, and your hips jolt in his hand. He holds you steady against his shoulder. Your fingernails dig into his bicep.

“Oh, yeah, she does. Of course, she does. I can do that for as long as you like, alright?”

That white heat curls your body inwards, tearing your mouth open, and sending your eyes to the back of your head. “JaviJaviJaviJavi – please –,”

He tsks into your ear. “You keep saying that but you never tell me what you’re begging for.”

It’s coming. It’s staggering. It eclipses everything and it’s just out of reach. You feel it start to expand and after all this time, it’s actually a fucking relief to give yourself over. To let yourself be rent asunder by something this huge and overwhelming.

His fingers, the ones not rocketing you towards the biggest orgasm of your life, gently wind up into your hair, sweetly caressing the soft skin behind your earlobe. His voice is quiet, coaxing, kind. His lips almost kiss the ridges of your ear.

“It’s okay, baby. I’ll tell you what to say. Say, Javi, I want you to make me come.”

“Javi, I–,”

There’s an explosion.

No, not like that. He’s not that good.

It’s a literal explosion in the street, with flashes of flames and heat that rattle the car. Alarms go off, your vision goes white – because of a pipe bomb stationed out underneath a car parked outside the part-time gambling den, part-time brothel. Javi’s arm flings out in front of you as the car is rocked from the impact. Flames lick the charred out husk of the front of the building. Only when your ears stop ringing, do you finally hear the screaming.

And then patter of bullets.

“Baby, get your gun and stay low!” He roars, as the windshield of the car behind you shatters, the popping of gunfire echoing the distance. He lunges back and grabs his jacket, fumbling for his gun. The panic in his voice shakes you awake and you dig into the glove box for your own handheld.

It’s a firefight for your lives, in the middle of the rain, in the middle of chaos and smoke.

It’s time to go to work.

🤍Part 2

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