#agent peña x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

javier-pena · 2 years

Text

virtus

Part 2 of Triumvirate

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader x Katie

Word Count: 14.2k

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Ever since you and Javi invited a third person into your bed, you're happier than you ever were before in your life. Still you can't help but feel that something is missing.

Notes: I am so sorry for the delay, first for making you guys wait for more than a year for an update and then not posting the update when I said I would post it. But it's finally here: Triumvirate Part 2! I can't believe it took me almost a year to write this, but I hope it was worth the wait. As ever, this fic wouldn't exist without its co-author Dani @adricnchase who probably spent just as many hours working on this as I did. And I want to thank all of you who patiently waited for an update for such a long time and didn't give up on this story. You guys are amazing!

***

It was supposed to be a one-time thing.

You had a deal.

Javi would get to live out his fantasy; granted, it was on your terms, but he would get to have two women in his bed, he would get to fuck them both.

And you would get a friend.

In a way, this is exactly what happened. Javi had changed since then, and not in a bad way. Since you had let him have this one thing, this encounter that had been making regular appearances whenever he had taken care of himself, he had become more open with you. Not less, as a small part of you had feared. He is a man, after all, and you know men – you know how they see women as vessels for their own pleasure, how they often forget about their partners’ needs. But this isn’t like that at all. Yes, Javi had a sexual fantasy that most men have at least once in their lives. So no, seeing it fulfilled didn’t make him into someone you were afraid he might become.

The first time you talked to Katie after the events of that night was when she called you to ask if you were free to have coffee with her. She had a short hour between two meetings and you both had talked about getting to know each other better, as she reminded you in a small voice, one that was either timid on purpose to show you she wasn’t a threat or one that showed you a side of her you hadn’t seen yet – one that was scared of rejection. The first time you saw Katie after the events of that night was awkward. You both didn’t quite know what to say to each other until you found common ground – Javi. And with him came all the other things you could talk about.

With Javi, things changed on a physical level. He sees you differently now, and he asks for different things, too. He asks to restrain you with his handcuffs (late one night, his voice so low you think you’ve misunderstood him at first), he asks you to wear a particularly revealing dress out to dinner one night (one you hadn’t worn in public before), he asks for you in the middle of the night with hungry kisses and urgent touches. And he gives, he gives so much that you feel like you’re floating most of the time. And it’s not just sex, either. It’s presents and date nights and surprise visits during lunch break. He doesn’t just do it to show how grateful he is. He does it because something has changed.

With Katie, things changed on an emotional level. You think of her as a friend now, and once you’ve gotten past the initial awkwardness you realize how much you two have in common. You talk about books and music, you talk about your dreams and aspirations, you talk about your families back home, the boyfriends you’ve loved and lost, the places you still want to see. You talk about work, too, and sometimes about Javi. But when you’re with her, there is so much else that fills your mind, so many curious questions you want to ask and funny stories you want to share that you don’t need to talk about Javi to keep the conversation going. And coffee with Katie becomes a regular occurrence.

And sometimes, those two halves that make you whole collide. Sometimes Javi gets home and says, “So Katie was telling me today that you don’t like my menudo,” to which you reply, “Oh, that little –” but before you can finish the sentence, Javi has caught you in his arms and kissed you. Sometimes, Katie sits down opposite you in your favorite coffee place, a slight flush dusting her cheeks because she hurried to get to you despite the Colombian heat, and she says, “You really think my blouse from the other day looked nice on me?” And then it’s your turn to feel the heat on your face as you mumble, “It made your eyes shine,” all the while making a mental note to remind Javi about how your private conversations are supposed to remain just that – private.

You feel happier than you have in months, hell, in years. You’re the happiest you’ve been since you arrived in Colombia. For the first time you feel like your life is whole, that you have a place, a home. And it should be enough. You have a loving boyfriend, you have a friend you can share everything with – that’s more than most of your friends back home can claim for themselves. And yet sometimes when you hear Katie laugh because of something funny you said or when you feel Javi’s breath against your hot skin as he slowly takes you apart with hard thrusts and whispered praises you feel … incomplete. But you never examine that feeling too closely.

You don’t dare to.

You are terrified of what you might find once you do. You’re terrified of what it might mean, this ache you feel in those moments. Because what you have is good. What you have is better than anything you dreamed of for yourself. And you have no right to feel incomplete, none at all.

After all, it was supposed to be a one-time thing.

_______

You look forward to meeting up with Katie because you love hearing about her work. It is the same as Javi’s but she sees it with different eyes, and she talks about it with an air of lightness. Javi doesn’t love what he does, he sees it as a necessity and he’s good at it, maybe even the best, but he doesn’t talk about his work when he’s at home. This hasn’t changed since Katie. But she indulges you, she tells you about her daily tasks, about fun colleagues and stupid bosses, about all the paperwork she has to do. And she always has an exciting story or two to tell when you meet up.

There is always a slight nervousness you feel when you wait for her in that coffee place. Today is no different. As you watch the brooding sky outside, foreboding with dark-gray clouds, you ask yourself if you should tell her. But tell her what? You don’t know yourself, even though it’s been one and a half months since she was lying under you, touching you, while Javi was behind you, and … You shift in your seat, uncomfortably aware of the hot weather. What’s there to tell? Hi Katie, I liked having you in our bed. Could we do that again? You laugh at how silly this sounds, even just in your head. And how would you react if Katie rejected you? You don’t think she has a boyfriend, she would’ve mentioned him to you, but it was supposed to be one time, one fucking time, and just because you can’t stop thinking about it doesn’t mean she can’t either. Just because you’re greedy and selfish doesn’t mean she’s the same.

And you’re terrified of her rejection, and you’re terrified of the possibility that she might not want to see you again afterwards.

But then you spot her outside the big window and all the tension leaves your body. It doesn’t matter if you tell her or not, all that matters is that she’s your friend and you get to have these coffee dates with her.

And then you spot him behind her, almost like a shadow – Javi.

Your heart leaps to your throat as you watch him hold open the door for her and lead her inside, his other hand on the small of her back. Maybe you should be jealous – any other woman would be – but you’re not. It’s the first time all of you are in a room together since that morning, and all the conflicting feelings you’ve been feeling are suddenly pushed aside. All you can think about is how good they look together … and that they’re both here for you.

You stand up, hitting your knee on the table leg. Javi’s stern face lights up with a small smile as he leans down to kiss you. He tastes like cigarettes.

“Hi, baby,” he says, one of his big hands squeezing your side.

You squirm at the sensation.

Neither you nor Javi care for keeping time, but you’ve been together for a while now, and still every time he touches you, you feel a flicker low in your stomach. He is always overwhelming yet safe, dangerous yet protective. You raise your hand to squeeze his arm through the sleeve of his tight-fitting suit, but before you can, he turns away from you to pull out a chair for Katie.

She smiles up at him as she sits down, and then she smiles at you. “Hi,” she says.

You let yourself fall back into your own chair and take a steadying breath. “Hi,” you echo, your heart beating so loudly you don’t hear the sounds your mouth emits.

“Javi wanted to come along,” Katie explains, as an apologetic gaze flashes across her face. “He wanted to know what,” she drops her voice, “you girls get up to when I’m not around.”

Javi smirks as he sits down himself, between you and Katie. “That doesn’t mean I wanted to come along,” he explains. “I was just asking.”

“You’re free to leave anytime,” Katie remarks.

“Now that you’ve dragged me all the way across town, I’m staying.” Javi crosses his legs and his arms, the fabric of his suit straining.

Katie mirrors him. “For the record, no one is keeping you here.”

“No, they’re not,” Javi agrees. “But I’m taking this opportunity to find out what you girls say about me when I’m not around.”

“What makes you think we’re talking about you?” Katie asks.

“What else would you be talking about?” Javi teases.

He teases. You sit up straighter, your gaze wandering between the two of them and you wonder if they’re always like this, even at work. You don’t think they are because it wouldn’t be professional, but you also wonder … maybe it’s not just you. Maybe Javi is thinking about her, too. Maybe they are already … no, they wouldn’t. You refuse to believe the two people you care about so much would hurt you in any way.

“Oh, we have plenty to talk about,” Katie answers him with a small laugh. “Clothes, makeup, boys …”

“Don’t I fall into the ‘boys’ category?” Javi wants to know, a challenging smirk on his lips.

For a moment you think Katie will push him further, you see this mischievous gleam in her eyes she always gets when she’s about to overstep a line. But then she leans forward, looks at you briefly, and drops her voice. “You’re much more than a boy, Javier.”

A pleasant shiver runs down your spine – excitement, thrill, arousal. You push it aside; this is neither the place nor the time to be feeling any of this. But when you look to Javi and see your feelings reflected on his face, your efforts turn into a losing battle.

Fuck.

“Should we order?” you ask, your voice deliberately calm. “You two probably don’t have much time.”

They both turn to you. And now you see guilt on Javi’s face and the challenge on Katie’s and your face burns hot with emotions you can’t place. Luckily, a young waitress comes to take your order right then and you’re spared from a deeper analysis of the shift that has occurred between the three of you.

“So.” You clear your throat and straighten the fabric of your trousers by running both palms over the smooth material. There is not a single wrinkle on it, but the movement grounds you. “How are things at the office?” It’s probably a futile attempt since you never discuss work with Javi and only sometimes with Katie, but you have to try.

Katie laughs, a warm, happy sound that makes your hands tingle. “I thought we were going to discuss All the Pretty Horses.”

Yes, you were. Last week, you had both gone to a bookshop not far from here and picked out a book to read, a new one, one neither of you had read before. You had been looking forward to the lunch date for a few days because you need to share some of your observations with Katie, and you are keen on hearing her opinion. Your already battered copy rests in your bag that is slung over your chair, nested somewhere between an old notebook and your house keys. But now, under these changed circumstances …

“Oh, Javi hasn’t read it,” you answer with a small shrug, looking past your boyfriend at Katie. “I don’t want him to be bored.” It’s only half the truth. The whole one is that you’re not sure how to act around Katie when Javi is there with you, who to be around her now you’re all together in one place again. The nervous jitter in your leg surprises you, as does your rapidly beating heart and your inability to look at either of them directly.

“I didn’t bring him along so he can ruin our lunch.” If another person had said it, anyone else, it would have sounded mean, hostile even. But when Katie says it, it sounds like an inside joke, jovial, amiable. “He can listen.” She narrows her eyes at you. “Or are you trying to hide something? Haven’t you read it? Is that it?”

“No, I’ve read it.” You almost stumble across the words in your haste to get them out. “It’s just …”

“Please don’t let yourself be distracted by me.” Now Javi has re-entered the conversation you can no longer ignore him. The mischievous glint in his eyes tells you to relax. And then there suddenly is a hand on your thigh, just above your knee, stopping the trembling. It’s warm and strong and careful, the steadying grip calming your nerves and muscles. “I’m more than happy to listen.”

“See?” Katie says with a nod at Javi.

You shake your head to get rid of the residue of tension in your neck and shoulders, then agree with an, “Oh, fine.”

Katie immediately lunges into an in-depth analysis of the main character and his motivations, while you listen and nod, agreeing with her until you don’t and you both end up in a heated discussion, Javi all but forgotten if not for his palm pressing into your leg, his fingers gripping your thigh. He doesn’t interrupt you, but he also doesn’t ignore your conversation. He listens intently, his gaze wandering between the two of you, his brow furrowed in concentration, his lips slightly parted – he always looks like this when someone catches his interest beyond a brief stimulation. When Katie challenges you with a, “No, that’s simply not true. Do you know anything about young men from Texas?” he looks at you with a look that says, “Well, do you?” and it makes you smile so broadly you’re unable to answer her. Later, when you say, “Well, then let’s agree to disagree,” and Katie says, “You’re only saying that because you know you’re wrong,” Javi stares at her in mock offense, a comical rendering of the very real feeling dancing across your features.

And despite Javi not being a part of the conversation, you couldn’t imagine it without him. You wouldn’t want it any other way. He’s more than happy to listen to you, giving you both the space you need, allowing you to be yourselves despite his presence. He never interrupts, never tries to stir the conversation into a direction that will let him allow to join in.

When your order finally arrives, he uses his cup of coffee to hide a smile as he listens to your discussion. Part of you wishes he had read the book and you could ask him for his opinion, but you’re not sure he’d be on your side, so it is better you’re fighting this battle one on one. And Katie does make compelling arguments, you’re prepared to admit that, but this is a matter of principle. You can’t let her win, not in front of Javi.

Katie, who ordered a pionono with her coffee, lets you ramble on about how Alejandra should have accepted John Grady’s marriage proposal, while she eats the treat slowly, careful not to spill anything onto her blouse. But when you call Alejandra a coward and it makes Javi snort into his cup with laughter, Katie glances at him and spills some of the dulce de leche onto her chin.

“Oh!” she exclaims in surprise, followed by a soft chuckle. “These things always get so messy.”

Your brain isn’t processing what she’s saying. You’re transfixed by the milk jam clinging to the corner of her mouth, to the tip of her chin, on the verge of dripping down onto her pretty clothes. A tremble runs through your body as you fight the urge to lean forward and clean her up, as your mind runs hot with endless possibilities.

Your hand, holding a napkin, softly dabbing at the corner of her mouth.

Your finger swiping up the cream, feeding it to her from its tip.

Your tongue licking her clean.

You know you’re staring but you couldn’t care less, not when that urge to fuss over her turns into something sexual you’re too weak to push away. You remember an image from six weeks ago – Katie between Javi’s legs, how sweetly clumsy she was, clumsy but determined. It made you want to care for her back then too, but now, with both those images in your mind, forming something so delicious, your breathing becomes shallow. Heat rises up to your cheeks as you imagine taking things further, cleaning her up after Javi comes down her throat …

Javi.

He’s watching you, his eyes narrow with observant curiosity. That breaks the spell, and you turn away from Katie as she gathers the cream on her fingers and licks them clean. She doesn’t know what you’re thinking, she’s completely oblivious – all she wants is to enjoy her lunch break in peace. And you’re not about to spill the thoughts you just had, let them both in on what goes through your mind, but you become quiet, so quiet Katie asks you if you’re all right.

You nod, laugh it off, pretend you just realized the argument on the book you were about to make doesn’t make any sense, and you just noticed how Katie was right all along. That makes her shout out an excited, “Ha!” before she turns to Javi to seek out his approval.

But Javi still has his eyes on you, quietly observant. You can’t hold his gaze.

He’s going to want to talk about this tonight.

_______

You don’t. He’s called away into the office before you finish cooking dinner, and even though he asks you to stay, you’re fast asleep by the time he gets back. He curls up behind you, pressing you against his chest, and buries his face in your neck, breathing in your scent. You, in a state between waking and dreaming, hold onto his arm as sleep overtakes you again.

Then there are two days where you don’t see each other at all. Javi has to travel – he doesn’t tell you where he’s going, he never does, and you don’t ask. Both of you believe it’s better not to, out of some old superstitious belief that he might not come back if you discuss the mission beforehand. He does come back though, lets himself into your flat late at night, and is on you immediately, barely finds time to undress himself. You never ask about the things he sees when he’s away, just let him take what he needs when he gets back, let him find comfort in your warmth and your embrace.

He's gentler than usual tonight, and afterwards he stays in bed next to you, offers you a cigarette and lights it for you before he lights his own. And then he says, “We should talk.”

You learned to dread those three words a long time ago, know they can never be the bearers of good news, only of disappointment and heartbreak. But this is Javi, and he would never play games like that, not after what you just did, after you clung to him and he held you until you were so overwhelmed you couldn’t stop the tears from falling and he kissed every single one away. Not after he cleaned you up with a warm cloth and brought you a glass of water before even thinking about his own needs. This isn’t a man who is about to break your heart.

“Sure,” you say, pushing down the rising dread.

“We said it would be a one-time thing …,” He hesitates, and you’ve never seen him hesitate like that. Maybe he is about to break your heart because there is only one way this could go. He saw the way you looked at Katie and is about to remind you of your deal. Maybe he’s even going to ask you to stop seeing her.

That thought is impossible to bear.

“Javi, I am so sorry.” Maybe he’ll be more forgiving if you show true remorse.

Javi, about to take a drag from his cigarette, stops his hand halfway up to his parted lips. “What are you sorry for?” The surprise on his face would have made you laugh under different circumstances.

It also allows you to open up, hoping you might have misinterpreted the direction your talk is going in. “I saw you looking at us in the coffee shop the other day.” There is no reaction from Javi, none. Nothing that tells you if this is what he wants to talk about. “I know we said it would be a one-time thing, but …” You have to take a deep breath, steel yourself for what you are about to say, and then get it out before you can stop yourself. If you don’t say this now, you never will, and you’ll carry that regret around with you as a heaviness that will weigh you down. “I wouldn’t mind if we invited her back.”

“Oh.”

Fuck. You got this all wrong. “I’m so sorry.” The words are tumbling out of your mouth. “You don’t have to say yes. I just thought …”

He doesn’t allow you to finish, instead taking the cigarette from you and carelessly discarding it in the ashtray next to your bed. Then he pulls you down by your hips until you’re lying pressed into the mattress. He’s on top of you before you can process what is happening, kissing you possessively. “Yes, fuck. Of course I want her to come back.”

“Of course?” you echo, not quite sure if you’re saying this in surprise, relief, or mock offense.

“I know we said it would be a one-time thing but I …,” he kisses you again, slower, with more care, but despite his gentleness you can feel him growing hard against your thigh, “I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I’ve been thinking about her a lot.”

This isn’t at all how you thought this conversation would go, not when he announced there was something you needed to talk about. You weren’t expecting such a positive turn of events and your mind is spinning with the endless possibilities this opens up for you. You hadn’t realized it before, but every time you missed her in bed beside you, every time you thought about her with anything but feelings of friendship, you felt guilty about it. His confession erases that guilt in one broad swipe, and makes you feel nothing but joy and relief.

You nod encouragingly, eager for him to continue.

“I am attracted to her.” Javi doesn’t look away or hide his face when he confesses this. His gaze is on you. He’s not presenting a challenge or an ultimatum, he’s just stating a simple fact, one that is as certain as the sun rising in the morning. Maybe this confession should hurt, but it doesn’t. It just encourages you in your own attraction to her, the one you’ve been careful not to examine too closely. “And to you.” It’s not an afterthought, not something he says to dampen the pain. It’s just another indisputable fact, one that he follows up with a scorching kiss. “And seeing you two together again …”

He doesn’t finish that sentence, but he doesn’t have to. You immediately think about the implications of seeing you two together, think about how this isn’t about his own sexual gratification, at least not entirely. Yes, he will definitely get off on watching you two, a thought that makes you press into his thigh involuntarily, but that also means he’s confident enough to let you explore your own attraction to her.

“I …” You want to tell him, talk about what this means to you, to get this freedom, to have him say yes to a repeat of one of the best nights of your life, but you can’t. You can’t tell him you’re attracted to her too because you’re not yet sure yourself. Yes, you feel something for her, but it’s not ready to be discussed with anyone, not even with him. And admitting it is different for you anyway because you’re not a man. The implications are unconventional and you’re not ready to delve into that yet. But you can give him something else. “I’d love it if she came back. I like her a lot and we had so much fun last time.” That much is true, and it’s something you’re confident enough to share with him.

It barely scratches the surface of what you could say, but he understands you. The look he gives you is full of warmth and comprehension, and even though he can’t quite grasp the full scope of things, he gets it in some part. And that’s enough. It’s enough for the both of you. He doesn’t have to hear you say it to understand.

When he speaks again, he moves the conversation back onto familiar ground, ground that you can both handle, that doesn’t make you feel like you’re drowning in unspoken things. “I have rules though.” The smile he gives you is impish.

“Oh?” you make, your voice trembling with anticipation.

“Two rules,” he clarifies. “I want you to ask her.”

You agree without a moment’s hesitation. “Yes, sure.” It can’t be a problem, right? You’re very good friends, after all, and you should be able to talk to her openly about this. It’s no big deal.

His next demand makes you clench around nothing. “And I want to be in charge this time.”

You try to hide how flustered you are behind a teasing, “You do, do you?”

He pins you down with his entire body, traps you beneath his broad shoulders. “I have some ideas …”

Your mind is running wild with the endless possibilities that lie behind those four words. They make you think about him wanting to see you and Katie together, and that thought turns you on so much he has no trouble working two of his fingers into you. You welcome them, welcome the slight burning sensation, the feeling of being filled by him, while you think about his beautiful brown eyes on you as you do the same to Katie.

Later, he fucks you, finishing with a low, satisfied grunt.

_______

Katie is in a very good mood today. She hasn’t stopped giggling since she sat down, and it’s only been getting more exuberant with every sip of coffee she’s had. The other patrons are a constant source of joy for her, and she keeps pointing things out about them on the quiet. Under different circumstances you would’ve joined in gladly, would have encouraged her in her funny observations but today you are dying a slow and painful death.

Your hands are resting in your lap, the coffee in front of you barely touched. Your heart is such a tight knot in your chest that you can barely get out a sentence, let alone this complicated, intricate demand you were tasked to present her with. Shouldn’t this be easy? Isn’t it supposed to be easy? You agreed to this so readily because it’s supposed to be the easiest thing in the world. Then why is this so fucking hard?

It's because she could reject you. And if she does, things between you and her will be unbearably awkward.

Katie notices something is up, of course she does. “You’re so quiet today. Is everything all right?”

Is it? “Yes, sure,” you answer, then take a sip of your coffee, trying to hide how much your hand is shaking. If only your heart would stop racing so you could form a coherent thought.

Katie narrows her eyes. “You do realize I’ve been trained to tell when someone is lying, right?” But then her demeanor changes completely, from the DEA agent to your friend. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You feel panic spread from your heart into every corner of your body, terrible, unbearable panic. She’s offering you the ideal gateway, but you have absolutely no idea what to say to make sure you don’t ruin this. You’re so fucking terrified.

Finally, you shake your head.

Katie nods once. “Well, if you’re sure … but you can always talk to me about everything.”

You know this. If there’s anything that has become obvious over the course of the last six weeks it’s how much you can rely on Katie. She is always going to be there for you. And that’s what is keeping you from just coming out with it … what if you lose her when you tell her what is on your mind?

“Is there something I could do that would make you not want to see me ever again?” The second the last syllable leaves your mouth you regret asking the question. It gives too much away.

There is a big question mark on Katie’s face. Yes, she might have been trained to read other people, but she is an open book when it comes to her own emotions. “Nothing comes to me off the top of my head,” she answers after hesitating only briefly. “Did you have something specific in mind?”

You know she’s only joking because she sees you could use a laugh, but somehow it feels like she’s making light of the situation. It only occurs to you that this assessment is unfair after the thought has crossed your mind – after all, you haven’t told her what’s up. She has no way of knowing what she’s making light of.

Finally, you answer, “Yes.”

“Oh, okay.” She sounds slightly worried now, shifts in her chair to sit up straighter. Her arms are resting against the tabletop, forming a wall between your body and her chest.

You don’t say anything.

“Well, aren’t you going to tell me?” There is an undercurrent of impatience there, one you wish you could ignore, but now that you’ve heard it, it burrows itself deep into your mind, takes over every impulse, makes it impossible to come up with a way out of this situation.

You open your mouth, close it again without letting out a single sound. Your stupid heart is in your throat, choking you, working like a stopper to keep down the words.

Then she smiles at you softly. “I don’t think you could ever do something that would make me want to stop seeing you. Unless you kill my entire family, which I doubt you will.”

It makes you smile too, despite the panic and the trepidation and the dread. “Okay, yes,” you grant, “but what about doing something that would make things between us so awkward you wouldn’t be able to stand being around me?”

Her face falls slightly, and worry begins to cloud her soft gaze again. “You’re starting to worry me now.”

“God, fuck, I know.” You bury your face in your hands, so you don’t have to see the worry on her face. This isn’t at all going like you wanted it to go. “I’m so sorry.”

Katie touches your arm, strokes it encouragingly. “Hey, it’s okay.” Your initial reaction is to flinch away from her and it’s only the paralyzing fear you feel that stops you. But the longer you feel her fingers against your skin, the calmer you become. “Just take a deep breath, okay? It’s going to be fine.”

The understanding and compassion she has for you make you feel like you could cry, but that is definitely the wrong thing to do in this situation. The right thing to do would be to get it over with, just put it out there and let her decide what to do next. “I …,” you start, raising your head, “we …”

The words won’t come, no matter how hard you fight the feelings holding you back. You hate yourself for agreeing to be the one to ask Katie. And you begin to understand why it took Javi so long the last time.

“Hey,” Katie says again, “I’m sure it can’t be that bad.”

“How do you know?” You don’t mean for it to sound so accusatory, but your breathy voice makes it sound like you’re confronting her.

“Well, you said you’re worried I wouldn’t want to see you again,” Katie explains, “so you’re not about to tell me you want to end this friendship. That’s pretty much the worst thing I can think of.”

She’s serious – you can tell by the look in her eyes. And you’re suddenly sure, surer than you’ve ever felt, that no matter what her reaction to your proposition is going to be, your friendship will survive this.

“No,” you say, “I don’t want to end our friendship. I want …” Are you starting this sentence right? Is this about something you want? “Javi and I were wondering …” The longer you talk, the quieter your voice becomes. You cannot look directly at her for what you are about to say next. “We would like you to come back.”

When you do risk a glance in her direction, you find her face a neutral mask. There is no way to tell if she understood you.

You take another deep breath. “We would like you to … be with us again.” You’re not sure if you’re making any sense – you probably aren’t – but you already feel relieved. You mastered the worst part of it – getting out the words.

“You mean like …,” Katie starts.

You quickly interrupt her. “If you want to, of course. No worries if you don’t.”

There is disbelief in the look Katie gives you. But you don’t allow yourself to panic, not yet anyway.

“You want me to come back and have sex with you two again?” Her voice is steady, like she is asking you to clarify a work order you’ve given her. You admire her for it, for the way her voice doesn’t break, for how she doesn’t lower it. You wish you were only half as brave as her.

You just look around you nervously, anxious that someone could overhear. “Yes …” You should say more than that, shouldn’t you? “We really … I would really like you to.”

She’s sizing you up, scanning your face, your body language. What she finds there remains a mystery to you. All you know is that this isn’t the total disaster you were expecting, that she hasn’t thrown her coffee in your face yet and stormed out. And that’s good enough for you.

Then she licks her lips. “Yes, okay.”

Your heart stops. “You sure?”

She laughs lightly. “Yes, of course I’m sure. And I’m very happy you asked … it’s not like I haven’t thought about it.”

It probably shouldn’t surprise you that she has since you have thought about little else, but her admission still makes your heart race – for a very different reason this time. “You have?”

The look she gives you is so gentle it makes your palms grow sweaty with a need you can’t quite place. “I think about you constantly.”

You have no idea what to say to that, so you change the subject. It’s easier than facing whatever she’s making you feel right now. “He wants to be in charge this time.”

“Oh?” Her brief hesitation at hearing this is followed by fiery sparks lighting up her eyes. “That should be interesting.”

_______

The sunshine lights up Javi’s entire flat, fills it with warmth and light. Katie has only ever seen it during the night, the one time she’s been here, and you watch as her gaze wanders around the living room, taking in all the details, from the worn-out couch and leather chairs to the fading art the previous owner left hanging on the wall.

You don’t talk about it, and yet you three always find yourself in the living room first, on neutral ground. Going straight into the bedroom would be too big of a step, you need to pretend that this is a normal visit first. You find yourself brimming with excitement though – you watch with restless eyes and on restless feet as Javi and Katie sit down next to each other on the couch. Is this really necessary? You already established the rules the last time, there is no need for friendly chit-chat.

Although you did break one of the rules right away.

“Do you want something to drink?” you ask, looking for a way to make yourself useful and pass the time until Javi decides it is time to start.

“Some water would be nice, thanks,” Katie answers.

Javi just nods.

You make your way to the kitchen, aiming for a casual stroll that turns into something a bit too fast. You get two bottles of water from the fridge and pour them into two glasses. Some of it spills onto the counter because your hand is trembling.

There is no reason to be nervous – after all, you’ve done this before, and it turned out to be one of the greatest experiences of your life. And you’re not that nervous anyway, more tense really. Javi wanting to be in charge this time takes a lot of the pressure you felt away, makes you excited to find out what he has in store for you. But still, after all the time you spent with Katie and despite all the love you feel for Javi, some nervousness is lingering, making your feet grow cold and your heart pick up speed.

Why did you agree to do this in broad daylight where everyone can see the insecurities in your eyes and there are no shadows to hide you from the scrutiny of others?

Carrying the glasses in both hands, you make your way back to the living room where you’re met with the sight of Katie straddling Javi’s lap, their tongues buried deep in each other’s mouths. The trembling stops at that sight, your body freezing up in response to it. Not because you feel betrayed, overlooked by them, but because you weren’t expecting them to make it so easy for you. No awkward small talk, no negotiations, just picking up where you left off.

The glasses in your hands make your skin grow damp and clammy as you watch them, watch Javi watch her with a concentrated frown, heat flickering in his eyes. His hands are placed on her hips in a conveniently neutral position, but you can see them twitch as if he wants to grab her harder and in different spots, pull her close and kiss her senseless. You wish he would because you crave the sounds Katie makes when she’s turned on, when she finds pleasure with someone. And she is quiet right now, apart from the occasional airy huff, the occasional intake of breath.

But then Javi does raise one hand to tangle it in her hair and pull her closer. Encouraged, she lifts her hips and starts to grind down on him, a slow, rolling motion that draws a quiet growl from him. It’s so quiet in the room you can hear her throaty pants, even hear her underwear brush against his tight jeans if you focus hard enough. Your knuckles on the glasses are turning white.

Katie shifts again to adjust the pencil skirt she’s wearing, pulls it up higher so the fabric doesn’t stretch so much and she can spread her legs more. Both you and Javi watch as more of her legs are exposed, muscles flexing under her skin every time she grinds against the growing bulge in Javi’s pants. It would be so easy to walk over there and take Javi’s cock out, make Katie take it, hear her whimpers as she tries to take him all in, hear her hiss when he adjusts himself, see her ... but no, this isn’t the right time. Despite how much you enjoy seeing them together like this, hearing the moans and sighs they pull from each other, you’re not ready to cross that line.

Carefully, you put down the glasses on the couch table, making sure not to spill anything, before walking around it to Javi and Katie. They both don’t acknowledge your presence with words, but you see Katie’s shoulders shift and you feel Javi’s eyes on you. Heart pounding, you lean down, pushing yourself between Katie and Javi, blocking her. He doesn’t let go of the back of her head until you capture his lip between your teeth and bite down, not hard but firm enough for him to let out a surprised huff. He kisses you back immediately, tongue in your mouth, the hand that was just in Katie’s hair on your cheek, and you’re sure you’re imagining it, but you can taste a certain sweetness on his lips that you don’t usually find there. You could get lost in this kiss, forget where you are and for how long you’ve been there, were it not for Katie’s body right next to you, her sweet, soft perfume clouding your senses that are usually focused on Javi’s strong smell. Javi’s cigarettes and sweat are mixed with something more feminine, something that sets your nerves on fire and makes you itch all over. You want them both so much it feels overwhelming.

Katie, refusing to be put on the sideline, shifts once more, and your gaze lands on her, on her eyebrows that are raised in a challenging question. That look ignites a fire at the base of your spine and you feel your pussy clench in anticipation. A small growl from Javi, demanding your attention, only piles onto that burning desire between your legs. Holding Katie’s gaze, you both agree: This time should be about Javi and his desires. The nonverbal dialogue happening between the two of you goes unnoticed by him, who is shackled by the sight of Katie sinking to her knees in front of him. A smug smile darts across your lips at his wide eyes and flushed cheeks, at the way his mouth hangs slightly open as he watches Katie unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans.

A part of you would like to watch and see how this all plays out, but instead you kneel on the couch beside him and kiss his neck, long, deep kisses, worrying his skin between your teeth, licking at it when he gasps at the sensation, enjoying how the tendons jump beneath your lips. If you pause for long enough, you can feel his pulse, hard and fast, accompanied by bursts of air tickling the top of your head. You kiss lower, move lower with your whole body, kissing his chest as you unbutton his shirt, slowly, lavishing attention on every bit of newly exposed skin. He rewards you with deep rumbles and breathless sighs, while he watches you and Katie working on taking him apart.

Once his shirt hangs open, you lean back to look at his exposed chest, the light freckles and hard nipples, content with your work. Now you can watch his ribcage rise and fall, watch how fast his breath is coming, watch how the muscles in his belly tremble in anticipation. And then you lower your gaze further to where Katie is kneeling in front of him, pushing his jeans down to his ankles, and you see his hard cock, already leaking, resting against his lower abdomen. A small moan, a sigh’s cousin, escapes you, and his gaze is immediately on you, smugness beneath his lust-dazed expression. Katie is looking at you too, up from where her naked knees press into the hard floor, a question in her eyes.

You nod, giving her permission.

Careful fingers close around the base of Javi’s cock, lifting him up. He likes it when you’re rough with him, but Katie is still so new at this that he doesn’t ask for what he needs. Instead, he watches her in awe as her lips close around the tip of his cock and she hollows her cheeks, pulling a strangled moan from him. You’ve seen them like this before, but not in broad daylight, and you’re transfixed by the sight in front of you, by the angry, red flush spreading on his chest and neck, by her furrowed brow as she tries to take more of him in. He’s holding back, hands balled into fists, resting on the couch next to his thighs. You know how much he’d like to grab the back of her head and thrust into her warm mouth, and how much self-restraint it takes him not to. He’s determined to give her time to get used to his size, even though he might not get as much pleasure from it as he could if he just took from her. And even though his consideration makes your heart grow big with love for him, a tiny part of you wishes he would just let go and fuck Katie’s mouth and throat until there were tears streaming down her face.

Before you can examine that thought too closely, you glide down on the floor next to Katie, wanting to help with the task at hand. While she’s still busy with his tip, trying to take as much of him in her mouth as she can, you carefully untangle her fingers from the base of Javi’s cock and then lick up his length until you’re almost touching Katie’s lips with your tongue. Javi hisses when you do it, and grabs your shoulder in a hard grip, so you do it again, with a little more pressure this time. An encouraging squeeze is your reward.

You leave small kisses up and down his length, hot little marks that make his cock twitch. It’s only when he gives you a strangled, “More,” that you go back to licking him, eager, fast, moving further up with each swipe of your tongue, until you’re almost at the tip, almost at the spot where Katie’s lips hold him. Your tongue runs across her bottom lip and then you’re both there, kissing his tip, kissing each other, hungrily, with Javi’s cock between you.

You grab Katie’s chin to pull her off him, to kiss her more, feel her whimpers against your fingers and cheek. She follows you willingly, leaning into you, a hand finding your thigh to hold onto you. And while you kiss her like a starving woman, like her lips and mouth and tongue are the only things that will keep you from a painful death, you keep your hold on Javi, jerk him off hard and fast. The living room is full of wet sounds, the sounds of your kisses, the sounds of your hand on Javi’s cock, wet, ragged bursts of breath from all three of you. And once your hunger has been sated at least for a little while, you lead Katie back between Javi’s legs and push her mouth down, a hand at the back of her head, tangled in her hair, refusing to let her back up again until you hear him groan deeply.

His chest is vibrating with pleasure, and he lets his eyes fall shut, trusting the both of you to take care of him. His head falls back while his legs open wider, and you see the tiny thrusts he’s allowing himself now, not much, but definitely there, up into Katie’s mouth. That sight is almost too much for you and you shift, wishing there was something between your own legs to grind on. The realization of just how aroused you are hits you unexpectedly as you clench around nothing in time with Javi’s thrusts, whimpering desperately. For a second, you think about touching yourself to bring you some kind of relief, but you want to focus on Katie instead.

Her skirt is bunched up around her hips, and you see her underwear peeking out from beneath the hem, dark, lacy panties that don’t cover up much. While still holding on to Javi’s cock with your right hand, you start to stroke along her thigh with your left, appreciating how her skin immediately responds to your touch with goosebumps. She tries to move away yet closer to you, as if unable to decide if she welcomes or curses the touch, but then you push two fingers between her legs. Her responding moan is so loud and deep, you’re sure Javi can feel the vibration along his length.

Javi’s eyes snap open. “Don’t make her come, baby.” His voice is so deliciously deep and ragged, and you’re so aroused you could come just from hearing him talk.

“Don’t worry,” you assure him, your voice less breathless than you would expect, “her first orgasm is yours.”

You press down harder against Katie, giving her just enough time for a small whimper in response to your promise. You roll her clothed clit between your fingers, and are rewarded with more addictive moans and a little twitch of her hips that sends a pleasant tingling down your spine. Javi keeps a watchful eye on you as you play with Katie, his fingers digging into your shoulder. In response, you tighten your grip around the base of his cock and increase the pressure between Katie’s legs once more, so she pushes herself up onto her knees, chasing the friction. You feel how wet she is through her panties, and it sparks a different kind of hunger in you, a desire to taste her on your tongue again. She’s losing some control, becomes distracted, sloppy, and it’s just how Javi likes it.

He comes, accompanied by unrestrained pants, spilling down Katie’s throat. In response, you feel a gush of arousal on your fingers as she shifts to catch it all on her tongue, eager for his taste, too turned on to think about concepts such as dignity or restraint. But it’s too much for her, she can’t handle it all – some spills onto her chest and neck as she does her best, and you watch Javi coat her skin, his hand now covering yours, squeezing himself.

You’re taken back to a few days ago when you were meeting at the coffee shop, and Katie spilled some of the cream from the cake she was eating onto her chest and fingers. You remember the feeling of wanting to lean in and help her clean up, to swipe a finger through the mess or use your tongue to lick at the sweet cream and her even sweeter skin. How so many factors – internal and external – were holding you back and you watched her laugh it off and clean herself with a napkin. The tremble that goes through you now at the memory is one of longing.

Javi, observant as he is, noticed your struggle back at the coffee shop, and he notices it now, too. “You wanna help her, baby?” he asks, leaning back comfortably against the couch, his voice deep, fucked out, yet unbearably soft. “Go on, help her.”

You lean forward and give a small rope of cum along her neck an experimental lick, just to feel her quick pulse beneath your tongue. You suck at the spot and hold her in place with a hand at the nape of her neck, then move lower to where Javi spilled some at the top of her cleavage. Carefully, you cup her breast to push it up a little, so you have better access, relishing how her nipple hardens immediately under your touch. Her soft skin is so hot beneath your tongue, and she tastes so sweet that your head starts to spin. Javi’s taste is much harder, but you love it all the same, and you’re so eager for more of the both of them.

While you make your way back up her neck to her jaw, Javi, in his soft voice, whispers, “You did so well, Katie.” He swallows hard, then continues. “You looked so pretty with my cock in your mouth, and you took me so well.”

She shivers beneath your touch, her eyes closed, taking in his praise and your soft licks. You nibble at her jaw, at her earlobe, then kiss her cheek all the way to her mouth to lick at the last bit of Javi’s release there. The licks turn into a breath-stealing kiss, one that makes her lean into you and grab Javi’s leg for support.

“You’re such a good girl, Katie,” Javi adds somewhere above you.

She breaks the kiss and looks up at him. “Thank you, sir.”

The glance they exchange, the unfolding power dynamic between them makes you shiver. It feels like there is more to this, like Katie is taunting him, maybe even disrespecting him in a way she could never do at work, and the desire to see this unfold turns you on even more. You, too, look up at Javi, a question in your eyes, waiting for him to decide what the next move is going to be, hoping for something that will scratch that infernal itch inside of you.

Slowly, he toes off his shoes and steps out of his jeans. They form a heap between you and Katie, a heap that grows when he adds his shirt to it. He’s naked, and confidently so. A smirk dances across his face as he stands up and watches you and Katie ogle him – how could you not? How could you not stare at his skin, still flushed from his recent orgasm, at the flexing muscles in his thighs, at his broad shoulders when he extends you each a hand, at his straining arms as he pulls both of you up.

His hand is warm and softly calloused, and you close your fingers around it, welcoming his steadying grip. On his other side, Katie is trapped beneath Javi’s arm that slings around her shoulders, a heavy weight against her small frame. She doesn’t hold onto his hand but slings an arm around his middle, her fingers brushing your side as she does. Linked like this, Javi leads you into the bedroom.

Once there, he positions you both in front of him, then cups your cheek and presses a gentle kiss against your lips, one that ends with a small nip and an apologetic lick. Both draw a gasp from you. His hand still warm against your cheek, he leans over to Katie and kisses her too, rougher, her fingers scraping his scalp. He growls against her hungrily and you see her break into a proud smile.

“Undress,” he says to no one in particular, swallowing hard.

You don’t hesitate for a single second. Pushing Katie by her shoulder until her back connects with the wall, trapping her in an open-mouthed kiss, you start to unbutton her blouse, the blue one you love so much. Katie only takes a second or two to catch on and immediately gets to work on the zipper of your pants, pushing back against you with a sigh. Your knuckles brush against her hard nipple and you can’t resist the urge to roll it under the pad of your thumb – her faltering breath is your reward. She gets you back by running her finger along the hem of your underwear, then just beneath it, making you gasp and widen your stance, impatient for her to go lower.

“Eager,” she comments, removing her hand.

“Katie, please.” You sound so desperate that it makes pride sparkle in her eyes.

She leans in close until her mouth is against your ear, tickling you, when she whispers, “Oh no, you don’t get to ask for anything, not after what you did back there.”

You’re breathless when you retort, “What exactly did I do?”

She unzips her skirt and steps out of it before roughly grabbing your wrist and pushing your hand into her panties. You groan when you’re met with heat and wetness, when you feel how soaked she is, when you run your fingers over her clit, between her folds. She rocks against you, chases friction, lets her head fall against your shoulder. A shaking hand finds its way under your shirt, and she cups your breast, squeezing hard. You lean into her touch, pressing her against the wall, trapping her.

“This isn’t just him, you know,” she whispers, then sighs when one of your fingers slips into her. “This is also you.” She swallows hard. “I want … I want …”

Before she can finish the sentence, a broad hand closes around your wrist and pulls. Katie makes a sound akin to a sob at the loss but doesn’t fight it.

“I said undress,” Javi presses, making you take a step back.

You pull your shirt over your head, then drop it to the floor.

“Good,” he observes with a nod.

Katie unhooks her bra and lets it fall, which earns her an appreciative glance from Javi. “Can I touch her?” she asks.

Javi cocks his head to the side, considering her request, but then shakes his head. “No, there will be enough time for that later. Go lie on the bed next to each other.”

You both take your time undressing, you with unsure hands while your thoughts race in every possible direction this could go in. Katie, her chin raised in defiance, steals a glance at you whenever she can, heat in her eyes, and you want her to know how much she turns you on, how much you want her, but you don’t dare defy Javi again. He’s right … there will be enough time for that later.

You lie down on the right side of the bed, Katie on the left. It’s so bright in the bedroom (was it always so bright?), and you toy with the thought of covering yourself up because you feel too much on display, too vulnerable. But then you look to your left at Katie, and see how she looks at you, eyes roaming over your naked form, over every blemish, every wrinkle. And you allow yourself to look at her, at her firm breasts (so much firmer than yours), at her taut belly, at the way her chest rises and falls fast, every breath full of longing and desire and desperation. Her flushed cheek rests against the cool bedspread, her right hand against your left side.

“Good,” Javi says from somewhere above you.

You look at him then, watch him run a hand up and down your thigh, toward your center, teasing you. You lift your hips slightly, impatiently, and he removes his hand in response, but just to kneel down between Katie and you. And then he’s fast, towering above you, pushing two fingers into you, burying them deep inside, stroking that spot that makes you see stars. You clench around him, hard, fast, desperate, fighting to keep him inside of you. He draws moans from you, deep ones, loud ones that make your ears ring.

“Baby, you’re soaked.” You barely register that Javi is talking to you because your body is so busy processing the onslaught of pleasure he’s inflicting on you. “Did it turn you on that much to watch her get me off?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. How do you even answer that?

“I think it turned her on to be watched by you,” Javi goes on. “Didn’t it, Katie? Or was it both – having my cock in your mouth and her fingers on your clit?”

Katie groans and thrusts her hips so hard you feel the bed shake. You lift your head and realize that he also has two fingers deep inside her, allowing her to fuck herself on them while he fucks you. Her eyes are shut tightly, and her legs are trembling so much she collapses back onto the bed. Javi takes over right away, fucks her, a sight that makes your limbs tingle, that makes pressure build at the base of your spine.

“It turned me on to clean her up after you were done with her,” you say.

Your answer surprises all three of you – both their heads snap in your direction, Javi’s gaze full of heat, Katie’s aroused, lust-clouded look mixed with a tinge of disbelief. He rewards you with a particularly deep, hard thrust that pushes you further up the bed.

“I liked being watched by her,” you hear Katie’s voice through a thick cloud of sharp arousal. “I liked the weight of you on … on my tongue …” She groans, and you know that Javi just crooked his fingers inside of her. “And I-, I-,” she stammers, arching her back, a strangled, high moan interrupting her.

“You what, Katie?” Javi asks, playful condescension in his tone.

Katie swallows down another onslaught of voiced pleasure before she answers. “And I loved how she toyed with me.”

You clench down hard on Javi’s fingers, two times, and you know what’s about to happen next.

“Javi,” you warn, gripping his wrist tightly.

Then his fingers are gone, leaving you empty and aching, pulsing with need. You groan in frustration, ready to complain. But before you can form the words, you see Javi push his fingers, the ones that were just in your cunt, into Katie’s mouth. She closes a hand around his wrist in response, holds him there, and you watch as her throat moves, as she sucks eagerly, lewd sounds accompanying it, her eyes closed in pure bliss. You blink a few times in disbelief as she arches her back, rolls her hips to push more of Javi’s fingers into her, sucks and sucks and sucks, licking his digits hungrily, tongue swirling around the tips, making the sweetest sighs and moans.

Javi’s pupils are blown wide as he watches her. His chest is rising and falling with deep breaths while he tries to work up a steady rhythm. Experimentally, he presses down against Katie’s tongue and gets a choked moan as a response, so he does it again and her eyes fly open just as her legs start to tremble uncontrollably.

Javi looks at you then. “Do you think she can handle a third?”

You watch her briefly, the utter desperation in her eyes, the small, eager nod she gives you, the way her fist at her side grips at the bedspread. “Yes,” you say, your voice hoarse, sure you could come untouched if this goes on for much longer.

Javi adds a third finger at both ends, and her eager, thankful moan, muffled by the weight on her tongue, turns into a series of pants, groans, and eager cries. She’s trembling hard as she comes and Javi holds her like this, the fingers in her mouth stilling, the ones in her cunt pumping in and out of her fast. You feel your face heat up at that sight, a delicious, uncontrollable heat that makes you ache all over with desire. It’s not until Javi turns his attention back to you that you realize you’ve been rolling your hips in tight circles, begging for some kind of friction to release the unbearable, burning pressure you feel everywhere.

Before Katie has recovered, before she has even stopped shaking, Javi pulls his fingers out of her cunt with a wet sound and immediately pushes them past your lips into your mouth. You don’t wait for him to tell you what it is he wants you to do because there is nothing you want more in this world right now. Your licks are eager and fast as you try to catch every bit of Katie’s release on your tongue, both of your hands around Javi’s wrist to keep him in place. Unable to keep your eyes open, you give in to desire, overwhelmed by Katie’s taste, one you’ve been unable to forget, one you’ve longed to savor again. Licking it off Javi’s strong, thick fingers like this is so overwhelming you don’t register that he has three fingers inside you at first. You also don’t register Katie groping for your hand.

It’s only when she gasps as you dig your nails into her, when the pressure between your legs becomes so unbearable it snaps that you become aware of the other two being there for you. Your orgasm hits you hard, slams into you with rapid relief, breaking something that has been building up steadily for too long. You know you’re leaving dents in Katie’s skin, you know Javi can feel your desperation as every wave of pleasure grips his fingers tighter, and you want them to know. You want them to know how good they make you feel, how much you want them to see what they do to you, how much you trust them. Katie’s taste in your mouth only spurs you on – they both worked together to give you this much bliss and they both deserve to know it.

Once Javi is satisfied, once you’ve stopped writhing beneath him, and once Katie is the one holding your hand instead of the other way around, Javi presses a kiss to your lips, growling possessively at the unfamiliar taste there, then leans over to kiss Katie, letting her nip on his jaw afterwards.

"You both did so good,” he mumbles into Katie’s hair before leaning over to stroke your arm from your shoulder down to your hand, intertwining your fingers. “Let me get you cleaned up.”

He squeezes your hand then lets go, pushing himself off the bed. You watch him disappear into the bathroom, then let yourself fall back with a happy sigh.

Katie is immediately there next to you, pressing her torso against yours, cupping your cheek. She kisses you lazily, like she has all the time in the world, like she could do this for hours. You kiss her back, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to just feel. Your body is still humming with pleasure, and even though you felt satisfied a minute ago, you now realize that your desire runs much deeper.

Katie shifts so she’s on top of you, pressing one thigh between your legs. You push down, immediately seeking contact; that familiar tingling at the back of your spine urging you on. An encouraging sigh is your reward, one that turns into a throaty moan when Katie feels how wet you still are.

“You look so pretty when you come,” she mumbles between kisses. “Have I ever told you that?”

You don’t know – you don’t remember. But if she were to ask you your own name right now, you also wouldn’t know the answer to that question.

“Can I touch you?”

Now this is a question you know how to answer. It feels like your body has been set on fire, deep desire making your blood boil, anticipation making you shiver.

“Yes, please,” you reply with an eager nod, opening your legs to give her better access.

“You’re always so polite,” Katie observes, kissing down your neck. “I wonder what you are like when you let go, when you ask for what you want instead of wait for it to be offered to you.”

You could tell her exactly what you’re like when you ask – after all, didn’t you ask for this? Javi wasn’t the one to admit he wanted to repeat this … it was you. You long to tell Katie that, see the response on her face, surprise her. But then her hand brushes up against your folds, your swollen clit, and you hiss, still tender from earlier.

Katie drops down next to you and nods toward the bathroom door. “Look at him,” she mumbles into your neck, “I think he likes to watch us.”

You turn into the same direction and see Javi standing in the doorframe. One hand is holding a washcloth, the one he got to clean you up. With the other hand, he’s slowly fisting his cock. His mouth hangs slightly open, but he doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t tell you what to do, he just watches. Being seen by him like this turns you on so much you push up into Katie’s touch and she rewards you by slipping the tip of her index finger into you.

When you asked Javi if you could invite Katie back, you had your suspicions. Your hopes. Him wanting to watch Katie and you together was something you wanted him to want but hadn’t dared to ask him for because it had felt like you would be revealing too much of your deepest desires, the ones you can’t yet label yourself, the ones that are still so new you haven’t had time to properly examine them yourself. But you get it now – after all, you know what he feels right now. You felt this too when you wanted him to take from Katie, when you wanted to watch them fuck each other. That image alone is enough to draw a moan from somewhere deep inside your chest. Yes, this is complex and complicated and something the two (or even three) of you need to have a conversation about, but right now you only want to give him what he wants.

You begin to roll your hips, pressing your clit against Katie’s palm, and she obliges by increasing the pressure. Her gaze wanders between you and Javi, and she has a small, beautiful smile on her face, one of contentment. You whimper as a jolt of pleasure shoots through you, and her eyes land on you, not cloudy with desire, but scorching with it instead – her pupils are blown wide, yes, but she looks at you with steely determination and defiance.

“Let’s put on a little show for him,” she whispers so quietly only you can hear it.

And then she does.

She kisses your neck, devoting a lot of attention to the spot behind your ear that, when nipped, draws a sharp breath from you. She kisses your shoulders, kisses the top of your breasts, sucks one of your nipples into her mouth and swirls her tongue around it. The sensation makes you arch your back, makes your body beg for more. There is still that slightly bitter aftertaste on your tongue, left there by her words, by calling this a show, because it doesn’t feel like one. It feels like she’s not doing this for him, she’s doing this to pleasure you, and, by extension, herself. The nagging thoughts make you lose focus, and you sigh in frustration, angry with yourself for letting this get to you so much. Katie doesn’t notice as she kisses across your stomach, your sides, your lower abdomen.

Then she’s suddenly there, with her tongue, licking against your clit, and you snap right back into the moment, grabbing handfuls of the bedspread to keep you grounded. She’s so much softer than Javi, much more careful with you, not yet sure how you like it. And you don’t tell her how close you suddenly are, how seeing her between your legs, looking up at you curiously while she licks through your desire, coating her chin and lips and the tip of her nose in it, pushes you right toward the edge.

“Katie.”

It’s a warning, leaving no room for discussion. When you look toward Javi, you see he has stopped touching himself and is just watching you now, fingers flexing while he has to hold back from stepping in. And suddenly, unexpectedly, it hits you how much you love him. There is this man who asked you to allow someone else into your bedroom, this man who let you set all the rules, who makes this about you and Katie wherever he can, who makes you feel wanted and desired even with another woman there, a woman who is younger, firmer, prettier than you. It’s all so much, the love you feel for him, and suddenly all you want is to have him inside of you.

Katie, however, has different plans. With Javi watching you like he’s about to rush over and pull her up from between your legs, and her tongue licking into you, her mouth sucking on your clit, taking everything you give her, you don’t last long. There is no slow buildup, no way to prepare or warn either of them. Vaguely, from the edge of your consciousness, you hear Javi urge, “Katie, don’t you dare make her come,” but it’s too late.

Your release coats Katie’s tongue, smears all over her chin as she licks you through it. She moans when she feels you pulse against her, pulls you close by your hips to devour more of you. It’s impossible to lose yourself entirely in her when you hear Javi growl, a mixture between possessiveness and interest. That’s what you were missing earlier, what you were suspecting was going on between Javi and Katie, what you longed to watch play out – Katie needs to disrespect Javi’s authority, and the only place she can do that is here, in the safety of his bedroom. Here, she can ignore his orders, fight him on them, rile him up. And he is willing to fight her, to make her follow him, in a way he could never do at work.

But the realization that gets you most, that makes you clench, immediately makes you hungry for a third orgasm, is that it’s you they’re fighting over. Katie is using you to get to Javi, not because you’re conveniently there, but because she enjoys having sex with you. And Javi wants to be the one in charge so he can look after you, make you feel good, fuck you until you can’t walk properly. He hadn’t counted on the woman he asked to join you to have such an effect on you, and it brings out his possessive side, a side that makes you want him even more.

You just don’t know how to talk to them about it yet.

But before you can get lost in your thoughts, Javi pulls Katie off you roughly and holds her pressed against his chest, one arm slung around her middle, the other one around her neck and shoulders. Her eyes are blown wide in surprise, and you allow yourself to look at her, to look at the tightly curled hair between her legs that is slick with arousal, at her nipples, hard with anticipation, at the way the sun falling in through the window onto her makes the sweat on her skin glisten.

“Lie down,” Javi orders her, holding her tighter against his body, pressing his hard erection into her soft skin. She gasps and nods slightly, his grip not allowing for more movement. When he lets go of her, she hurries to comply, lying down on the bed next to you, propped up on her elbows to watch him.

“And you.” Javi hovers above you, solid, imposing, filling almost your entire field of vision. He leans down, and then he kisses you, oh so softly, a tender caress that makes you whimper into his mouth. “Are you okay?”

He makes you feel so loved you feel too overwhelmed to answer him with words. All you can do is nod slowly because yes, you’re very much all right.

He caresses your cheek, cups it in his strong hand. “What do you need?”

That is a question easily answered. “I want you inside of me.”

“Yes.” He sounds so breathless. “Anything for you, baby …” His eyes flicker to Katie’s for a second, then they’re back on you, and you can see an idea forming behind them, can see the little cogs in his brain turning. “Do you want to teach her a lesson?”

Yes, fuck, you do. You want to get back at her for making you feel so vulnerable, you want to help Javi take back some of the control he had to surrender to her. But mostly you want him to come inside of you, to mark you as his.

Javi tells you to get up on your hands and knees above Katie, trapping her between your limbs. You hurry to comply, your heart pumping blood so fast through your veins you hear it rush in your ears.

“Watch what happens when you disrespect me,” Javi tells Katie, and then his open palm lands against your exposed ass with a loud slap, making you sway forward.

Katie’s mouth falls open and you can feel the desperation radiate off her body. Javi does it again, and you moan, relishing how your skin stings where his hand landed. You hope he’s leaving a mark, one you can admire tomorrow morning and remind you of how much you’re wanted. The third slap is harder, and you fold, lowering yourself onto your elbows, your face an inch from Katie’s. All the confusing feelings are gone. You’re grounded, you know exactly what you want, and you feel so good it makes your head spin. This is what you wanted – what you needed all along, and you’re set on enjoying whatever Javi and Katie have in store for you.

You push back to taunt him, push against his erection with your ass, until he grips your hips to still you. “Go on, Katie,” he says, and you can hear the permission in his voice, the voice of a man who is used to people listening to him, “see how much she’s enjoying herself.”

You groan when Katie presses her palm and fingers against your soaked folds, the heel of her hand against your clit, the tip of three digits pressing into you with the slightest of pressure.

“Fuck,” she breathes out, and you don’t need her to tell you what she found because you know only too well, but you want her to say it. And she does. “She’s soaked.” The way Katie says that word, with breathless surprise verging on the edge of desire has you press your cunt against her hand and your lips against hers.

Before Katie can slip her fingers into you, Javi pulls you back by your hips, his grip hard as steel, unrelenting, impossible to escape. You feel the head of his thick, full cock against your folds for only a second and then he fills you, stretches you, pushes and pushes until you’re shaking so hard it becomes almost impossible to hold yourself upright. Sensing your predicament, he grabs the back of your head and presses you down, right between Katie’s legs.

You didn’t know how much you were starving until you taste her again, feel her soft, wet folds on your tongue, get to bury half your face in her sweet cunt. You drink her up like a parched woman, lick into her, roll your tongue over her clit, breathe her in. And with every thrust Javi gives you from behind, he pushes you up against her, making this so much easier for you. You sling one arm around Katie’s thigh, rest the other against her stomach, holding on to her when Javi starts to fuck you harder.

“Hold down her head.” His voice is so strained you can tell he’s holding back. “You can be rough with her, she can take it.”

Katie’s hand lands on the back of your head, her grip soft and testing. This isn’t enough, and definitely not what Javi had in mind. You struggle against her, trying to lift your head, and she puts more force into her hold, pushing you down against her cunt, and then holding you there so there’s nothing left for you to do than lick and suck and moan into her softness.

“Yeah, like that, that’s it.”

Javi picks up speed, slams into you with quick snaps, and you realize you’re clenching around him, pulsing with desire kindled by the feeling of Katie holding down your head, rolling her hips against your tongue, by Javi fucking you from behind with such force you feel each push deep in the pit of your stomach. You’re trapped. They’re both just taking from you, chasing their own pleasure, using you as a means to an end. You’ve never been more turned on in your life, more eager to give, desperate to be used.

Javi stretches you open, buries himself deep inside of you with each thrust, holds you in place with both hands on your hips. The stretch from this angle is burning, bordering on painful – a pinch of pain in a sea of pleasure. It would be overwhelming for you if it was only you and him, but the feeling of Katie’s soaked folds on your tongue, of her hand holding you in place, of her nails digging into your neck with each thrust Javi gives you makes you forget everything but them. You don’t even care where this ends for you, just as long as the other two find pleasure and completion in your body.

Then Javi’s finger presses against your clit and your world begins to tilt. You moan his name loudly, muffled by Katie’s cunt, but you know they both understand you perfectly. Javi groans behind you, increases the pressure on your clit, and Katie …

She’s coming, pushing herself up into your mouth so you can feel every pulse on your tongue. Her steady moans turn into desperate little sobs and whines, and when you open your eyes to look up at her, you find her watching you, letting herself be watched by you, showing you every detail of her orgasm on her beautiful face. You drink up every last drop that she gives you, clean her eagerly, savoring her taste, committing every nuance to memory.

Once Katie shivers and pushes you away, you lift your head, only to feel how Javi is pulling out of you. Your protesting sound turns into one of surprise when he flips you onto your back next to her and guides himself back into your warmth, burying himself deeply in your pussy and your neck. Warmth floods you and you hold him, run your fingers through his hair, as he rocks into you gently with a steady roll of his hips. It’s so intimate you almost forget she’s there, but then she presses into your side. Soft kisses land on your neck while she plays with one of your nipples, pinching it to make you gasp, then stroking it with feather-like touches.

When she speaks her voice is so quiet Javi can’t hear her. “It’s never just for show.”

Something expands inside of you at that admission, and the last echo of a nagging voice dies down. This is just as meaningful to her as it is to you, and a tiny sob of relief escapes you, lands somewhere behind Javi’s ear as a tickling burst of breath. He lifts his head and kisses you so very, very softly, like he’s putting all the love and tenderness he feels for you into that one brush of lips.

“Come for me, baby.”

You can’t deny him, and when you do, he joins you, spilling into you while he guides you through the crashing waves of pleasure. It’s only when he’s satisfied with his work, when your whimpers against his neck turn into deep breaths, that he rolls off you and pushes himself between Katie and you.

Your hand immediately seeks out the warm skin of his stomach, caressing it, feeling how he breathes in and out slowly, satisfied. Katie’s hand joins yours and you tangle your fingers together, hold onto each other. You rest your head against Javi’s shoulder and sigh happily.

“I love you, Javi.”

He kisses your forehead. “I love you, too.”

You squeeze Katie’s hand, a poor substitute for all the things you want to tell her. There is so much you need to say but you don’t yet know how. You don’t even know what it is you’re feeling yet but being with her makes you happy. She makes you happy. But that’s something you need to examine for yourself first before you can tell anyone about it. You don’t yet understand what it means.

Javi kisses your forehead again, then Katie’s. Then he pulls you both close. “My good girls.”

Katie squeezes your hand, glancing at you across Javi’s chest. And you wonder if she feels the same.

javier pena taglist: @pookipedia

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña #agent peña x reader #agent peña x you #javier peña x reader x katie #javier peña x you x katie #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #about a million years late but it's finally here!!!!!!!!!!

153 notes · View notes

undercoverpena · 9 months

Text

vii. oh oh oh, the sweetest thing

javier peña x f!reader | chapter seven of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: fluff. flirting. alludes to smut. sinful thoughts. continuous romcom vibes. an: javi and reader, sitting on a bed... ;) also new theme, slightly amended banner. thanks to @wildemaven for giving me the confidence to use this one ✨ wordcount: 3.4k.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

Javi wakes to cold sheets beside him.

He stretches his arm out—and for a moment—he forgets where he is. Expecting to hear his alarm, feel the bobbles from his overly worn bedsheet.

That is until he catches the scent of sweet shampoo, perfume and—

Flipping his eyes open, he then hears the rustling.

His senses come back to him as he slowly sits up, spotting you immediately at the foot of the bed.

Compared to yesterday, you’re dressed so formally: fitted trousers, a shirt and a jacket. Your leg doing a twist, head bent—as he assumes—you’re trying to slide your foot into your shoe quietly.

There’s minimal light fluttering into the room, all courtesy of your suitcase pushing against the heavy hotel curtains to allow enough to dress yourself. With it now allowing a slither of sunlight to creep over your face, lighting up the shades in your eyes—the ones he swears he’ll see forever when he dreams.

The sunlight illuminates your lips—the ones he’d spent hours tasting last night—now having the chance to admire as they slide into a smile, eyes widening at the sight of him.

“Morning—“

“Shh,” you whisper, brows dipping. “Go back to sleep, baby. It’s so early.”

Stretching out his legs, he runs a hand over his face. “I’ll go back to my room.”

“No, it’s okay, stay. Please. Just get up when you’re ready,” you offer. “Plus, if you move and I see any more of you, I’m not going to want to leave.”

Softly, he feels a smirk slide up his cheek. “That so?”

Moving around the bed, he curls into your touch as it brushes through his hair—sparking memories of nails, your mouth pressed to his cheek as you begged him for more—before your lips kissed the side of his mouth.

“Fuck. Forgot how much I like your voice.”

“Didn’t get your fill of it last night?”

Mirroring him, you smirk a bit more.

His hand snakes up your wrist, keeping you here—just a bit longer. Feeling your eyes dart from one of his to the other, your grin broadening as his thumb traces a square on your skin.

“Go to sleep. I’ll call you at lunch and let you know how I’m getting on.”

Your face is so close it’s easy to kiss you. Deepening it, letting your mouth part as he tastes mint on your tongue, his hand sliding up—

You pull back, humming as you tap your fingers against your lips. “I’ll be late.”

“I can be quick.”

Shaking your head, smirking. You move back from the bed. “I’ll see you later.”

Grinning, he lies back down, an arm flopping over his eyes. “You don’t mind me in your room?”

Pausing as you pick up your bag, you shoot him a look—one where your smile is across your entire face, not just your mouth. “I trust you. Plus, I have the important stuff, ID, money. And, if you were to steal anything, as handsome as you are, I doubt you can pull off my jean jacket, or some of the other things I've packed.”

Laughing, he shakes his head. "Have a good day, cariño."

“Try not to miss me, baby.”

There wasn’t duplicate sales, someone just can’t do their job correctly.

if you were back home I’d call them an idiot but since it brought you here

Valid point. I’m still annoyed that it took me longer to get in the building than it did me figuring it out.

Could have had longer in bed.

for sleeping

Probably not. This handsome man has me waking up early to talk to him as he starts his day.

It’s reprogrammed my internal clock.

he must be really nice for you to let him do that

He’s okay.

fuck hermosa

He’s got nice hands though. And lips.

has he now

Yeah, don’t think I could tell him to his face that I don’t think my legs have ever shaken that much.

can’t wait to make them shake again

Yeah that was obvious this morning, charmer.

cant blame a man when you look the way you do baby

Stop I can’t smile like that right now.

Few more hours and I’ll be getting a cab back, will let you know when I’m back, then just need to change and then I’m yours.

I can pick you up

It’s fine, work will pay so let’s make them.

You remind him again that you’ll knock for him before getting changed.

Call for him. Like the two of you were teens ready to hang out until the sun goes down—something he found endearing and quite funny, all at once.

you wanna ask my pop if i can stay out past curfew too You’re hilarious. But I can do. I’d love to talk to your Pop. worryingly i think hed love to talk to you Did you ever make curfew? do I strike you as someone who didn't You strike me as someone who would work around the curfew, be technically on the land at the right time continuing the hang in the barn or something.

Through texts, you’d seemed in high spirits.

But when you reached his door, blasted with manufactured orange light from his room, Javi took one look at you and realised how much of a front that had been.

He barely knew you, yet he spotted how stress sat behind your smile and how your face was twisted into a fake version of the expression he saw yesterday.

“You fancy staying in tonight?”

It was why Javi was staring over the room service menu. Hearing you shower, cancelling the reservation he’d made earlier, listening as the water fell into the base (one thin wall away) as he placed the phone back on the hook.

Trying not to think of your body—of soap suds sliding down your perfect skin and how it was likely bending and twisting as you showered.

He tries not to think about the kiss, too.

The one you’d given him, arm looped around his neck when he suggested staying in, ordering room service and finishing a crossword. It had taken a moment, his eyes jumping from one eye to the next as he assessed whether he’d said something dumb or smart.

Your kiss confirmed the latter. Gratitude thrummed through it as you cupped his cheek—thank you, thank you, thank you, etching into him as he pulled your hips flush to him. Almost ready to pull you into his room when you’d mumbled about needing a shower.

That had been half an hour ago.

Now, he watched as you stepped out through steam, face fresh—black tee he could see the outline of your nipples through and a pair of yoga pants that made him almost choke when you bent over to pop something in your case.

"You alright?"

Swallowing, he shifts on the bed, tilting his head. "Yeah, hermosa. You just look..."

He prefers letting his voice trail off. Watching it flicker across your face, the embarrassment. It starts with your hands coming across your front, your weight shifting, before your eyes find it difficult to meet his.

“I never asked," he says, changing the conversation, feeling the warmth of your eyes snap back to him. "Your friend, Aish? Is it? She not have anything to say about you flying miles to meet a man you don’t know?”

You smile something wicked. “A few words, but..."

"But?"

Licking your lips, you look down at your feet. "I think she could see how happy I was. When I was talking to you. Think, like me, she just hoped you were who you said you were.”

Javi brushes his hand over his jaw, trying to fight the grin. The same one you constantly pull from him, his cheeks hurting from it happening so frequently all in one go.

“You put her mind at rest, baby?”

“Oh yeah. First chance I got.”

Moving to sit next to him, he hears the faint rumblings of your stomach. Something you quickly apologise for. And something you apologise for unnecessarily again a second or two later. His hand on your knee, drawing circles on the fabric covering it, hoping it assures you, relaxes you as he tells you as much.

“I don’t… I guess I don’t do things like this,” you say. “I’m not impulsive. I’m sensible—have to be. I don’t really have anyone, or thing, else if it all goes wrong, you know? And then you came along. And while my brain was telling me to be careful, the rest of me was just so sure this was…”

“Right?”

“Yeah,” you smile.

“So you’re glad?”

“If my stomach weren't about to begin eating itself, I’d show you how glad. But, Javi, truthfully, I wouldn't let you be in my room again if I wasn't.”

Allowing you to lean into him as you flick down at the menu, he presses a kiss to your cheek. “Good to know.”

Even if his original plans had been dashed, Javi still had plans to rid your body of the stress from your workday.

The alternative, he found, was just as pleasant.

After the two of you ate on the floor, you both moved to the bed to attempt the next crossword. Four answers were written before he found you in his arms, talking—sharing.

He learned more about your job, your place, and how you’d had a pet when you were younger.

Then, somewhere between sharing about music, movies and how good you were at Monopoly, you were curled against him, softly sleeping.

He could have moved, but he deep down he hadn't wanted to. Enjoying feeling your body rising and falling, your room rotating the smell of room service and your perfume in equal amounts.

He thought about your laugh from earlier when he told you about a horse trying to throw him off. The way his chest had flooded with warmth when you told him about how often you’d thought of him at work today.

It’s perfect. All of this. You.

It makes the corners of his lips slide up as he hears you take a sleep-filled sigh against him, your arm remaining tightly looped around his waist.

His eyes fall to the crossword—the one you’d attempted to complete—and was now close to falling off the foot of the bed. The previous days all filled in, block letters staring at him. Not even bothered in himself that he hadn’t managed to finish today.

Instead, he just focused on how nice it was having you against him. How he'd wanted this, before he even knew what you looked like. Had imagined your body is shaped and curled against his, but it hadn't even been close to this.

This, like you, was more perfect than his mind could conjure. Your knee currently between his, fitting perfectly—just like you do in every other aspect.

It's why he hasn't stopped running his fingers up and down your arm, surrendering to his position—not that he’s complaining. If anything, he never wants to move.

He had tried, initially. His brain worrying about what you'd do when you woke. Javi had attempted to rise up and tuck you in, but your hand simply clutched him closer, all unwilling to let him move.

He thinks about leaving every ten minutes, as though revolving. Only settling when his nose is re-flooded with the scent of your shampoo and perfume, making it harder to stop thinking the second thought on rotation.

The one which had slammed into him at the airport—the one which had been born some weeks back, bubbling inside him ever since—began rising up in his chest again, in his throat…

He likes you. Really likes you.

To the point, he’s not sure if he’ll be okay when he has to let you go. When he has to say goodbye and leave you at the airport departures.

Simply wanting languid kisses under bed sheets, your body under him, his fingers brushing your cheeks as he feels your laugh against his palm.

He wants more than a handful of days. Allowing himself to think it, acknowledge it, now he knows you're real.

Swallowing, he glances down at you—taking in the bow of your lips, the way your lashes sit on your upper cheek, and he relents. Just for a moment.

Instead, he rests his chin on the top of your head, letting his eyes close as he continues to slide his fingers up and down your arm.

He wasn’t meant to fall asleep. Javi had just meant to rest his eyes.

But he wakes to darkness, a slither of light peering through the closed curtains, with you very much beside him still. Your eyes closed, head on his chest, your own rising and falling as gently as earlier.

But the light had been on then.

A thought that hooks the edge of his lips, tugging it up. Because you would have needed to get up and turn it off, before climbing back into bed again. Moving under the duvet—likely whispering to him to do the same, because he too is now under it.

He lifts it tentatively, seeing that he’s still fully clothed, spotting that when you switched off the light, you’d also changed from your work clothes into a satin top and pair of shorts.

You’d wanted him here.

Javi beams. Broader than he's allowed himself to let grace his face. One that quickly, almost immediately, blossoms into a grin. One he continued to wear as he closed his eyes, pulling you closer—finding you do so with ease as he settled back down.

The next time he opens his eyes, he finds you struggling to cram in the few things you’d removed from your suitcase. The one you’d packed—like you were staying for a month.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he allows himself a moment—hearing the quiet, disgruntled grumbling coming from you as you push down on it as hard as you can.

“Want a hand?”

“No, no,” you protested, wiping your arm over your forehead. “All good.”

Nodding, he gets up to use your bathroom, back cracking as he does. After he's washed his hands, he splashes cold water on his face, staring at himself in the mirror—seeing the usual dark bags under his eyes, now appear fainter.

In truth, he wasn’t sure when the last time was that he’d slept as well as he had done the past two nights.

It niggling at him as turns the tap off, drying his hand, before he runs his fingers through his hair. Shelving the thought, the realisation, as he opens the door to be greeted with the same grumbles and sweet perfume.

One thing he does hope, is that your scent buries itself into his clothes, skin, and bones. Mainly, he hopes this isn't the only time he can see you, or be around you.

Something he thinks as he leans against the wall, folding his arms, trying not to laugh watching you give your case another few shoves. After several more quick and successive presses down, you look up at him, giving him the most wounded, puppy-like look.

“Okay, please help me.”

His knees groan as he gets down on them, pressing down on the suitcase lid—nodding to you to try the zip as it budges. The process continues, your fingers occasionally poking in the odd item that attempts to stick out—the heel of a shoe, the edge of the jean jacket you were in on the day he met you, and lace.

“So, I was thinking….”

Javi lifts his eyes, finding that yours are already on him.

“Did you…. want to share a room, maybe? Like, for the next few nights—I totally understand if you don’t want—”

“Baby,” he says, softly, full of please breath and assurance, as he leans back on his knees. “Are you sure?”

Nodding, biting your lip, your fingers slide over him on the suitcase. “I mean… we already have been, right? And, honestly, I hated even leaving you yesterday. Honestly, I… I don’t want to lose any more time with you than I already have.”

“Me too.”

It’s like an eclipse, the way you grin. Smothering over your worrying. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

Lifting your case for you from being flat, you take the handle, continuing to grin before you follow behind him as you leave. His hand reaches behind, taking your fingers as the two of you head to his.

Half of him, not wanting to let go, see if he can grab his things with one hand while the other stays connected with yours. But he lets go, for speed, quickness, as he collects the things he managed to unpack in the room he's barely been in—never mind slept in.

Something you must realise, an apology hitting the air. Shifting on the spot at the door as he darts around.

Then, it's apology after apology. Different versions of the same thing, explanations that weren't necessary, because he didn't mind.

Something he also says.

It continues in the elevator, down to the small reception desk. The one more cramped, if that was even possible, than the first day they arrived. Your whispered reasons as to why you owe him made him slowly smile.

You didn’t even get to sleep in your bed, happened to be his favourite. Because if you took a breath to ask him what he'd choose, he’d always choose to sleep in the bed you were in.

“To make it up to you, let me buy the other nights. Work covered the two necessary for them, so it hasn’t cost—“

His hand slides over your cheek, face forced to look up at him, blemished with curiosity that relaxes into simmering disbelief.

A look he now suspects is on your face plenty of times when the two of you talk. That disbelief, the one unsure how someone could make you smile, makes you easily relax.

He knows because it’s something he thinks himself. He’s just not sure if his expression looks similar to yours.

“Hermosa, stop apologising—“

“—I can’t ask you to. You already picked me up from the airport—”

“Cariño, please—

“—And you paid for dinner the first night, and—“

“Baby.”

That word does it.

It makes you pause and swallow. Eyes focusing on him.

“Baby, listen to me. I’ve already spent upwards of triple digits falling for you, and I don't care. So, lemme pay for the hotel room so I can show you how far I’ve fallen.”

You're torn. He sees it immediately on your face from the way it ripples across your face.

Some part of you all unwilling to let him. A part he hopes to kiss away as he presses another kiss to your temple, softer, hanging there a second longer until he pulls back.

“I’ve got this, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper. “But, I’ll buy—“

He kisses you.

Realising as he does, it’s the only way to silence you. Feeling you melt, then you smile, before your fingers come up along his neck, little touches, and then nails, before you pull back.

“You should… pay for the room now,” you say, lips twitching, a smirk wishing to bloom.

“That so?”

Nodding, you bite your lower lip. “I know you saw the things I packed in my suitcase, Javi.”

Tracing his lower lip with his thumb, he smirks, slowly—before nodding.

Turning to face the desk, he presses the bell once, twice, thrice—all insistent as you snigger by his side. He’s about to press it again, almost shouting to call someone, when he feels you nudge him—moving closer, arm coming around his waist as he feels his cheeks warm as you stare up at him.

Fuck, you’re beautiful.

“I’m taking you out tonight, too. Just so you know.”

Narrowing your eyes, you give him a lopsided smile as you swallow. “Can I pay half?”

“You can argue with me about it. Yeah,” he says, kissing your forehead before hammering his palm on the bell all over again.

an: thank you for all the love on this, i can't even put into words how much i appreciate it and you. this chapter i was dreading, as it sets up so much for the next, but i hope it was worth it, as always xx

695 notes · View notes

pascalsbby · 9 months

Text

Little Bunny

Javier Peña x you

Summary: 2.1K Javier mistakes you for someone looking to make money. He doesn’t know that your dad is his boss - Or - Extremely frisky Javier gets bratty reader on her knees and takes what he wants <3

Warnings: 18+ mdni, SMUT, age gap, flirty and sweaty Javier, face fucking, he takes what he wants, dominate & aggressive, darkish!javier, pet names, praise kink, dirty talk <3

Based on this ask from @justlulu : Hey, I LOVE your dark content 🩷 I was wondering if you write for Javi Pena too, and also if you take requests?

I do take requests!! Thank you for your kind words. This is my first Javier post. Please comment and let me know what ya’ll think! 🤍

You wanted his huge hands to pull you up to his mouth, light you on fire and suck whatever he needed from you. You’d burn for him, one look in your direction and you were sure.

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *

The store’s bell rings as the door opens, letting in more of the unforgiving summer air. Along with it comes a broad figure, cast in the shadow from the awning. A quaint “buenas,” was directed towards the register as the fluorescent lights flickered, taking him in too. The artificial glow on his sweat-covered skin dropped down the collar of his shirt. It was a darker pink, unbuttoned and covered in his swelter. Leather jacket atop.

You knew what he was right away. In the way he walked, scanned the room before even stepping two feet inside of it. This town was full of them. You knew who he was a few moments after. He turns towards you, eyes hidden behind yellow aviators. They were one of three prominent features gracing his face, the others being his nose and neatly trimmed mustache. Each guided his presence with a dignified assurance, leaving an indelible mark on anyone fortunate enough to gaze upon his countenance.

In other words, he was fucking beautiful. And he was fucking delusional if he thought the Ray Bans weren’t going to set him apart from the general public. They were his staple and they screamed, “I’m probably a fucking DEA agent.”

You’d heard of him too, Javier. Or Peña, in the stories your dad told you. “You could never tell anyone these things mi vida, I tell them to you because I want you to be safe while we’re here.” You’d spent too many times looking at the pictures on his desk, the ones he had put in front of you stating, “puedes confiar en estos hombres si lo necesitas.”

“You can trust these men if you need to.” Is that so? Since when have you been able to trust any man? Especially ones who look like that in a pair of fitted blue jeans. Especially ones who take you from everything you know and move you to a different country in order to ‘make sure you’re protected’.

The store was mostly empty besides you- and now him. His presence was heavy, not easy to ignore. He looked too pretty- and he looked like your next game piece.

His cologne immediately filled the air and was followed by what an entire pack of cigarettes must smell like. You wanted his huge hands to pull you up to his mouth, light you on fire and suck whatever he needed from you. You’d burn for him, one look in your direction and you were sure.

Javier must have felt you eating him up and you blush, feigning casual interest in the snacks in front of you. But he smirks as his lips part, catching you starring. “No he visto a nadie tan hermosa como tú en mucho tiempo.” Fuck.

He was in front of you, having already looked you up and down as he walked towards you. What a dog.

“I’m sorry?”

“Ah,” he chuckled, looking around. “You speak English.”

“I do.” At least you used to, before he spoke to you and you had to crane your neck upwards to meet his eyes. He had taken his sunglasses off at some point, you were too enamored by his waist to see much else.

“I said, ‘I haven’t seen anyone so beautiful in so long.’”

He swiped his thick thumb across his pouting lips while he waited for your response. That usually works, huh?

It did.

He was flirting with his bosses daughter. He had absolutely no idea who you were, where you were going after this. The power that you yielded, simply from the last name you held. You quietly laughed. He must think you’re full of information, by how hard he’s trying. Why wouldn’t you want to be full of him? He was trying to get something from you.

His demeanor shifted as he waited for a response. Not towards embarrassment, he doesn’t seem the type. More so towards, ‘Fuck. Maybe I came on a little too strong.”

You open your mouth, contemplating what to say next as your eyes return to his. A spark of something…lust? Recognition? No.

His gaze flickers before he turns his attention back to the snacks. He knows that this is the most important part of the conversation.

“I was thinking the same when I saw you walk through that door.” You surprised him. He sat down the crumpled bag and looked back at you.

“Is that so?” He started, but you interrupted, not wanting him to keep the conversation going and figure who you were, how young you were, that you weren’t worth a shit when it came to flirting. That you weren’t someone who couldn’t be an informant.

“Can I have one of those?” You pointed towards his crotch, meaning his back pocket where his tattered box of cigarettes sat against his ass. You watched as his smile spread, laughing beneath the deep breath he takes as he pulls them out and smacks them flat against his wide palm. He picks one and hands it to you.

He lowers his voice as he steps even closer. “You can have whatever you want, conejita. Let’s take this outside.”

You looked down at his fingers and imagined what they were capable of, how long they were. All of the spots inside of you that they could caress. You took the cigarette and looked into him.

“Let’s.”

You imagined Javier liked to keep his outside of work activities on the low. His dirty little secrets were easier to keep when he hid them behind the facade of work. Of doing good for the world. They also happened to do well with his cock. You wondered if he paid them, too.

Of course he does. He’s a gentleman. ‘Someone to rely on’.

You put it between your lips as he dug in his other pocket for his lighter. “How can you fit anything in those? Let alone find anything.”

“Hey, these jeans don’t look good on just anybody, baby.”

Baby.

You huff and he falls back, scrunching his eyebrows towards the setting sun as he lights his own cigarette, first. What a gentleman. The fine lines of his face soften after he takes a long hit.

His hands ghost your face as the click of the lighter ignites and the fire burns closely to your face.

“What’s your name, anyways?” You ask, pulling in the burn.

“Peña.”

“Do you have a first name? Or is the last one just cooler?” He smirks.

Both of you sat in silence for a moment, looking around the street at the children playing.

“S’not too safe for you out here right now.”

“Why’s that?”

“Mierda, eres difícil, ¿no? Just trust me.” He huffed out a laugh.

So you did. There were eyes everywhere, if need be. You said what he had been pining for the entire time.

“So take me home then, Peña.”

He wasted no time walking you to where he was staying, the warmth of his palm not leaving your lower back until you made it to his front door. He had been trying to get small things out of you during the stroll. Where were you from? Why were you visiting? You didn’t give him much and you could tell it was bothering him. Every once in a while he would look down at you, his breath falling right into the ticklish spot on your ear. You wanted him.

It didn’t come as a surprise to either of you when he guided you in the door, shut it quickly and then grabbed the back of your head, moving his lips against yours.

He was soft and gentle, but his grip in your hair was stern- he’d seen the world, felt it. Watched it bleed, be unmerciful. He kissed you on your lips, then once on your cheek as an apology for not being able to contain himself. He kissed between your collar bones, lovingly, moving down to your breasts.

“How old are you again?”

“20’s. Old enough.” You were breathless. His lips were kissing at your sweat.

“Mhmm,” he moans against your skin.

“Gonna have to fuck it out of you, aren’t I?”

“I don’t give away information for free, Peña.”

“Get on the bed mi conejita.” He growled. For his line of work, he wasn’t very patient.

It was dark in his room, and the entirety of it smelled of him. You wanted to sink into his sheets and cover yourself in him. You made your way to the bed in the right corner of the room, the only light from the orange streetlights, barely on from the newly descending darkness.

He had been a flirt since the moment he opened his mouth, but he saved himself for the darkness. You prop yourself up, sitting at the middle edge of his bed with your feet on the ground, waiting for instruction. He seems like he’s the type who wants to be in charge.

His shirt is off quickly, and the amber light hugs the curves of his chest, his hips. His lips touch exactly what he wants them to, nothing more. You wanted them to wrap around you like they had his cigarette, before.

His nose kisses you, too. He kisses like he never will again. And he doesn’t, not really. Not many people have touched his lips, as compared to the rest of him.

He’s an angry man, it runs through his veins, and you can feel it in his force. But he wants so badly to be calm, still, soft, in the way he caresses you. How can you not be angry at the world when you’ve seen what he has?

The thing is, you have. Not to his extent, surely. But you’d seen a lot pass your dads desk.

“Now tell me, cariño, what do you need to give me what I want?” You scoffed as he pulled away, removing his arms from either side of you on his bed.

“Tell me your first name and then let me suck your cock.”

Who was winning at this game?

You pushed him forwards and made enough space in front of him for your body, as you slid down to your knees, hitting the hollow wood harder than anticipating as you unbuckle his belt. You go ahead and take it all the way off, kissing his stomach as you fidget with his zipper. His hair peaks out over the top of the layers as you impatiently pull his jeans lower.

He’s so hard that it’s making it difficult to take them off, cock pressing against the tight denim. He gasps softly as your hand reaches him. You pull his already showing head out of his boxers, licking your lips before wetting his tip and licking up anything he was already willing to give you.

“Javier,” He gasps his own name.

“Mmm,” you moan as you hold it in your hands. It’s heavy, long. His balls are heavier as you grasp them, only imagining the sound they’ll make slapping against your cunt.

You’d teased him enough.

“Javier,” you were whining now. He groaned at his name on your tongue, mixing with his precum.

“Hush and open your throat.”

You pushed your wet tongue into the bottom of your mouth, opening your lips wider in attempt to take him easily. But this wasn’t going to be easy, considering the size of him.

You let the saliva pool in your mouth and he lifts an eyebrow, asking for permission. You look up at him and nod.

Immediately his hand are in your hair, moving them around as he finds the right grip to fuck himself into your mouth.

“Too big baby? I thought you were a big girl? Old enough? That’s so cute, it’s not even all the way in. Let’s see if you can do it, hmm?” He lifts his head and it falls backwards as he takes your throat completely, your neck and body jumping at the intrusion. You find yourself lifting your hands to his hips, trying to find anything to hold onto as he fucks himself down your tongue and into the back of your mouth.

“So pretty, little bunny.” Finally revealing the nickname he gave you. “But I’m not finished yet.” You sputter around him, opening your throat even wider.

Your knees are carrying a dull ache, and you almost wish you hadn’t asked to suck him off. You remove yourself from him and attempt to catch your breath.

He continues carving out the shape of his cock in your throat and you relax, letting his angry head hit the back of your neck.

His voice is so deep, vibrating even, but his whimpers aren’t as they slip past his lips. He’s ruthless in his attempt.

“All done, sweet thing?” He pulls himself from your throat and looks at the connecting spit.

“I’m not. If this mouth isn’t gonna tell me what I want to hear than I might as well fill it as I see fit, yes?”

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *

Masterlist

Ya’ll, I saw this ask, thought about Javier smoking, and then this happened within 45 minutes…