#javier peña could rail me

[thetriumphantpanda]

pining & desperately waiting | javier peña

take the weight off his shoulders - chapter two

Chapter Summary | As much as he’s trying to keep his distance there is just something about you that Javier cannot stay away from. Drawn to you like a moth to a flame, so to speak. He's worried about you too, putting yourself in harms way for your work.

Chapter Warnings | Mutual pining, slow burn, sexual tension, flirting, mention of smoking and drinking alcohol, mention of drugs, drug deaths and the drug trade, explicit smut - masturbation (F)

Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count | 3.2k

Authors Note | When I tell you I love this (specific) man, I am telling you I love him. He consumes me. Thank you to @hellishjoel for letting me scream about these two with her and helping me figure this chapter out! If you like this I would love for you to join me in my ask box for screaming and please consider reblogging to support me! If you enjoyed this, you can make a donation to my Ko-Fi if you'd like to support me that way.

I no longer use taglists. Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs to be notified of new updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Series Playlist

You dream of him every night for a week after that night at the bar. They’re filthy, depraved sometimes, and you always wake up, slick pooling between your thighs, fingers working furiously before your alarm goes off to try a satiate you, or at least tide you over until you can climb back into bed that night and really take your time to imagine all the ways Javier would take you apart with his fingers, with his mouth, with his…. 

“Are you even listening to me?” 

You want to answer honestly and say no, you were busy daydreaming about getting railed by your dad’s buddy, but when you look across the table and see your boss practically glaring at you, you realise it’s probably for the best to lie a little. 

“Sorry,” You mumble, picking up your pen, “Didn’t sleep well, what were you saying?” 

“The fundraiser tomorrow,” She speaks, “For Dylan’s foundation, would you be okay to cover it?” 

You nod, because it makes sense for it to be you. Dylan had overdosed just over a year ago – seemingly on top of things, doing well in school and incredibly bright, found slouched over on a street corner, dead from an overdose before he’d been able to leave the small town for whatever bright lights he was destined for. He was just one of a string of drug-related deaths over the past twelve months – an ‘epidemic’ as they had coined it – the town too close to Mexico to escape the trade that Javier himself had worked so hard to quell. Dylan’s parent’s had set up a small foundation after his death, hoping to help other young kids who could be lured into this stuff to have other opportunities in their lives. 

“What kinda thing are you thinking?” You ask, starting to jot down notes as she speaks. 

“Just some reaction from people there, why they’ve decided to come out and support, maybe try and grab one of his parents, just the usual really, and we can run a story in the following days, might help drum up some more support for them if nothing else.” 

You nod, doing your usual with your notes of underlining the important parts, making notes on the kind of questions you’ll ask when you speak to people, “How many words have I got to work with?” 

“I think we can give them a page,” She says, looking to her boss who nods in agreement, “So whatever you produced for last month’s story, that should be good.” 

You nod, making a note of that too, and then continue to zone out for the rest of the meeting as everyone talks amongst themselves, mind going right back to Javi and what he would feel like putting his weight on you, settling between your thighs. You really needed to get a grip. 

“Oh, isn’t it so nice to see such a good turn out today?” Your mom gushes, looking around at what feels like the whole of Laredo milling about a number of stalls that are selling all sorts of different things. 

“Sure is good to see,” Your dad agrees, putting his hands on your shoulders to give them a squeeze, “You want us to leave you to your reporting, pumpkin?” 

The nickname makes you wince a little, a moniker from your early days, before you’d filled out into your body. It was cute, but at twenty-five years of age, you do sometimes wish he’d find something else to call you. 

“I shouldn’t be too long,” You turn around and smile at him, “I can come and find you in a little while.” 

You wander around, introducing yourself to a few people asking them questions and jotting down notes. You’ve just finished speaking to Martina, famous throughout town for owning her own candle business, about why she’s supporting the foundation, when you step back and feel two sturdy hands holding onto your waist. You’re about to turn around and slap whoever it is for touching you, when that deep voice hits your ears.

“Careful, querida,” Javier fucking Peña, “Almost stood on my foot.” 

You whip around, mainly to put a bit of distance between the two of you, because it felt like his lips had been inches from your ear. He drops one of his hands, but keeps the other ghosting at your side, maybe to keep you steady more than anything as you wobble from the speed at which you’ve turned around. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t stand too close then?” You offer, making sure it comes out more playful than anything, because actually, all you really want is for his body to press against you more often. 

“Fair point,” He shrugs, “Thought I recognized you so I wanted to say hi,” He finally lets that other hand drop from your waist, “So hi.” Is... Is he nervous? 

You chuckle a little, “Hi,” you respond simply with a smile, “I didn’t expect to see you here,” You say honestly, this wasn’t his kind of scene before, you can’t imagine it’s any more appealing to him now, “Didn’t think it was your kind of scene.” 

He rubs a hand nervously over the back of his neck, “It’s not, I’ve been made to come,” He nods his head behind him where Chucho is talking to a group of other ranchers, “Apparently I’ve got to start showing my face more.” 

“Well, it’s a nice face,” your mouth speaks before your brain can catch up with what it’s saying, you inwardly cringe when you realise what you’ve said, “I mean, I’m sure people are happy to see you around.” Is all you can think to say to try and get him to forget the weird compliment. 

He seems to smile, but like it had been across the table almost two weeks ago, his smile seems forced, “Just wish I could skip the bullshit about everyone being proud of me.” 

“But it’s true,” You shrug, moving away from the stall with him so other people can in front of you to look, “You did really good things out there.” 

He scoffs now, shaking his head a little, “You shouldn’t believe everything you read in the newspapers, querida,” He speaks, “Surely you should know that more than anyone.” 

You don’t know what he’s actually trying to say, but you decide to play it light, “Are you accusing me of lying in my stories, Peña?” You say with a smirk. 

“Perhaps not you,” He offers, “But I know plenty of journalists who know how to twist a story to get what they want,” He looks down at his shoes, kicking at the gravel a little, “Just don’t want you thinking I’m something I’m not.” 

“Been gone a long time,” You muse, “You might have to spend some time reminding me who you are.” 

It’s flirting the lines of maybe being too much you think, but you’ve not said anything that’s not true. He has been gone a long time, and if what he’s said is anything to go by, he will have to remind you of who he is or show you how he’s changed. 

“Not sure you’d like who I am now very much, querida.” He says simply. 

You’re about to open your mouth to respond, tell him you’re pretty sure that wouldn’t be true and that there isn’t a thing he could do on this earth that would make you think he was a bad person, but before you can, Chucho is coming up behind him, a firm hand on his shoulder. 

“Ah, mija,” He smiles at you, “You here alone?” 

“Hey Chucho,” You greet with a smile, “Mom and dad are around somewhere, I’m just here working on a story.” You hold up your notepad and pen.

“Let’s see if we can’t find them, huh Javi?” Chucho muses to his son, “Get you a nice cold lemonade for when you’re finished?” He motions to the blazing sun and then back to you. 

“Sounds lovely, thank you,” You motion over their shoulder to where Dylan’s parents are stood, “I just need to speak to them, and I’ll come and find you.” 

Javi doesn’t say goodbye, just follows closely behind Chucho as they disappear into the crowds, leaving you to wander over to Dylan’s parents. They’re not strangers to the paper, your boss had written a story with them not long after Dylan’s funeral, trying to spread awareness as to just how deep the drug problem ran in town. The Laredo Morning Times had always been supportive to them, so you didn’t feel the same anxiety you normally did when gathering information for stories, cold calling or knocking on doors trying to introduce yourself before doors are swiftly shut in your face or phones are hung up with a ‘no comment’. 

They’re warm with you as you speak to them, thanking you for coming, thanking the paper for agreeing to cover the event, they even smile, which for a pair who lost their only son in such a horrible way still shocks you for some reason. Their loss hasn’t defined them, only made them stronger, made them determined to stop their pain from happening to anyone else. You make a note to write something equally as poetic in your article. 

The crowds are thinning out a little as the midday sun does its worst. You can feel beads of sweat gathering behind our knees and you curse the fact you hadn’t remembered your hat. You can feel the heat prickling your skin as you spot your parents, sitting on a picnic bench with Javi and Chucho sat opposite them. When you’re close enough to the table, you can see everyone has plastic cups full of lemonade, but there’s one, put in front of the spare spot on the bench next to Javi, that is pink in colour instead of the cloudy yellow of everyone else’s. 

“You get everything you need?” Your dad asks, as you try and fight your legs over the bench in the most graceful way possible. 

“Yeah,” You nod, “Think it’ll make a great piece, Dylan’s parents seem really positive about it all,” You pick up the cup and take a sip, pink lemonade, your favourite, “Thanks for this.” You nod in the direction of your dad. 

“Don’t thank me, Javi got these,” He smiles, “Remembered you preferred pink lemonade and everything.” 

It actually makes your heart swell in your chest. He was always thoughtful, even before he left. Observant almost to a fault. But even after all these years, all of his stress, everything he’s seen, he still knows you well enough to know you prefer the sweeter pink lemonade. You turn your head to him to find him already looking at you with a little smile on his face. 

“Thank you.” You say quietly, sipping through the straw. 

“You’re welcome, dulzura.” 

Javier Peña is doing a piss poor job of staying away from you, even by his standards. He lasted less than a week before he was waltzing over to you, hands on your waist, buying you pink lemonade because he knows you prefer it. There hasn’t been a night where he hasn’t wrapped his fist around his cock and made himself cum over the thought of you. He finds it easier to drop off to sleep once he’s done it, but his nights are still fitful, full of nightmares, tossing and turning, waking up to sweat soaked sheets and a heaving chest. He wonders briefly, when he lies awake watching the dawn arrive through his curtains, whether your body next to him would ease his nightmares? But then he thinks what if it doesn’t. What if you have to wake up, look at him with those innocent doe eyes and see him for what he really is?  No, he can’t let his darkness cloud you, you don’t deserve that, you deserve someone that going to be gentle with you, someone softer, not him with all his jagged edges. 

He's currently sitting in his truck, just outside of the liquor store, contemplating how badly he wants that packet of cigarettes and the bottle of whiskey he’d driven out to buy. He’d done alright so far, chewing on his Nicorette gum, but his fingers are itching for the familiarity of a cigarette between his fingers, and he’d finished the bottle of whiskey last night. 

Then, almost like he’s being punished by God, which would make sense really, all things considered, you’re in his eyeline, walking down the street with a woman who is a little older than you, with your notepad and pen clutched in your hand. It’s late and he wonders where you must be going to report at such a late hour, and then he worries, because in his experience, nothing good happens after dark that worth making the newspapers. As the two of you approach him, he leans further out of his open window, holding his arm out to catch your attention. 

“Hey Javi,” You smile, coming to a stop in front of his window, “What are you doing in town?”

“Just picking a few things up,” He answers simply, because this isn’t about him, he needs to know where you’re going, “Where are you going this late?” 

You turn to the older woman you’re with, tell her to go on ahead and you’ll catch her up, “There’s been some kind of drugs bust a few streets over,” You explain, “Sounds like it might be quite big so we’re just going down to see what’s happening.” 

“Your dad working it?” He asks, because if he is, he knows you’ll be okay. 

You shake your head, “Nah, he’s not on nights right now,” You’re shifting back and forth on your feet, clearly itching to get going, “I’ll be alright though, sounds like plenty of dad’s officers are down there.” 

He turns his head back to the steering wheel and then back to you, “Be careful, alright?”

You smile at him again and if he’s not careful, he really could get used to being the person who draws that from you more often, “I know what I’m doing,” You chuckle slightly, and he doesn’t doubt it, not really, “Been covering this kinda shit for a while.” 

Without really thinking about it, he leans over, roots around in the glovebox and pulls out the little card he knows that’s in there. He passes it over to you, letting you take it, “It’s got my number on it,” He explains, “I’ve been in this shit and I just…” He trails off with a sigh, “Just, call me before you write something that might get you in trouble, okay?” 

“Worried about me, Peña?” You smirk, and he thinks above your smile, he’d like to make you smirk more too. 

“I’ve just seen too many good journalists write things that ruin their careers,” He shrugs, trying to play it off but probably doing a terrible job of it, “Don’t want you to make the same mistake.” 

He watches as you turn the card over in your fingers a few times, before smiling at him one last time, “I’ll call you if need you.” And he really hopes you do. 

In that moment, he gives up on trying to resist the call of the liquor store, pulling out his keys from the ignition and opening his door, climbing down onto the pavement. He stalls a little, before he puts a hand on your shoulder and gives it a squeeze, “Go and get your story, reporter.” And then motions his head for you to go. 

He buys a bottle of whiskey and two packs of cigarettes, smokes two of them before he gets home. He thinks if he were a stronger man he’d have managed to quit, but he’s not, especially when it comes to you. Sure, he knew you before, but this new you? He’s known less than a month and he’s already struggling to stick to his own rules. He steps down from his truck back on the ranch, walks in and pours himself a healthy double, trying to convince himself it’ll be okay, he just needs to keep to himself, but when he’s led in bed at night, thinking of your sweet smile, he thinks this might just be another thing he fails at. 

It’s late. Too late for you to be awake when you have to be at the office in the morning, but you can’t stop looking at the series of numbers, printed on the little card, underneath the words ‘Javier Peña, DEA.’ It’s out of date, clearly, the DEA nothing more than a memory to him. But it’s the principle of it that matters most. He’s worried about you, and he would only worry if he cared right? 

You set it on your nightstand, switch off the little lamp and plunge yourself into darkness, right at the same time as you plunge your hand under your sleep shorts and through your folds. You’re soaked, because you always are when you think about him, it’s actually sort of pathetic. You sink two fingers into yourself, only briefly, letting out a satisfied breath, dragging your slick fingers back you to slowly circle your clit. 

It's new, the way you always need to take care of yourself. The brief relationship you’d had in college with James hadn’t given you much to work with, you hadn’t really felt desperation to get yourself off like this before. 

Your other hand, currently running over your peaked nipples through your tank top, is itching to reach across to your nightstand, pick up the phone and dial that number. You want to breathe down the phone at him, tell him you’re being so bad, that you need him to help, need that deep voice to guide you through it. As you press your fingers harder into your clit, speeding up your circles and bucking your hips, you wonder what he’d actually do if you did call him. Would he tell you to get lost? You don’t think he would, you think he’d do exactly as you asked, talk you through it. 

You imagine his voice in your ear, telling you how good you’re being for him. You imagine his hand replacing your own, sinking his fingers into you, using his thumb to work your clit, the rough of his moustache running over the skin of your neck as he kisses you there. It’s the image of him looking down at you, smiling as he makes you cum that tips you over the edge. That flood of relief that rushes through you as you bite down on your bottom lip to keep you from whispering his name as your body shakes through your orgasm. 

You wipe your slick fingers on the skin of your thigh, roll over in bed so your back is to the phone, trying to get your breathing under control. You drag the covers up under your chin, closing your eyes and trying to sleep without imagining his strong arm around your waist, his broad chest against your back. Does he snore? You wonder as you try and fall asleep. Would he keep you warm? It’s all running through your head as you sleep, conjuring up dreams that come morning have you realizing something has to give, you have to know, you have to have him. You needed Javier Peña more than the air you breathe, no matter how bad it was to admit that, no matter what it meant, no matter what it would cost, you needed him and you think to yourself as you drive to work, that he might just need you as much as you need him. 

#Javier Peña #Javier Peña smut #Javier Peña fluff #Javier Peña angst #Javier Peña fic #Javier Peña fanfic #Javier Peña fanfiction #Javier Peña x you #Javier Peña x reader #Javier Peña x female reader #Javier Peña x f!reader #narcos #narcos fic #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction #narcos smut #javier pena narcos #Javier Peña narcos #javier pena #javier pena fic #Javier Pena fanfic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena smut #Javier Pena fluff #Javier Pena angst #Javier Pena x you #Javier Pena x reader #Javier Pena x female reader #Javier Pena x f!reader #Pedro Pascal

[eideticallys]

Masterlist

© EIDETICALLYS. do not copy, translate, or steal my works as it's punishable by law! all the works on this list are protected under copyright law. i only post here & on ao3. if you find any of my works on other platforms besides these i've mentioned, please inform me.

Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds)

☼ The Cure to Injuries | fluff & angst (1.8k)

you most definitely didn’t think that the most effective cure to a bruise is a gentle kiss placed on it.

☼ If you won't do it, I will. | fluff & angst (3.7k)

you were so engrossed with images of you kissing Reid and him kissing you back that you forgot one detail—the man could wake up at any moment without you noticing. and he did wake up. You just failed to notice, too busy ogling his pink lips.

☼ Who Needs Time Management When I Have You? | fluff (1.5k)

one of the many perks of having a boyfriend with flawless memory is that you do not have to remember stuff—he remembers them for you.

☼ You Think I'm Delicious? | fluff (1.9k)

all your dreams and hopes of getting cuddly with spencer were shattered when he uttered those six words.

☼ The Dangers of Tennis Skirts | fluff (0.8k)

“you know, reid,” you said, “guys ask girls out on a date before they bury their faces into their thighs.”

☼ I Don't Mind If It's You | fluff (1k)

maybe styling spencer’s hair should be an everyday thing for both of you.

☼ WooPea! | fluff (0.4k)

you start your day right, cracking science jokes & making spencer reid smile. the other bau team members be damned! or, you crack the worst jokes in the planet & emily has had enough of it.

☼ Who’s Your Barber? | fluff (0.8k)

“you move fast, kid.” he turned to spencer who looked like he was on the verge of passing out. “letting Y/N cut your hair without going on a first date.”

☼ New Favorites | smut, 18+ only

New Favorite Game (0.8k) — maybe a part of spencer has always been sadistic but seeing your tears, seeing you mindless in pleasure has awakened something sinister in him. and spencer is nothing but a competitive, eager learner.

New Favorite Banter (2.4k) — you should've felt satiated. last night’s affair should’ve been enough for you. after all, for the first time, spencer finally let his inhibitions go and railed you six ways to sunday. it should have been enough if only you weren’t greedy. well, you never prided yourself on being selfless.

☼ On Almost Kisses & Bruised Foreheads | fluff (1.4k)

“what’s going on?” the blonde woman asked slyly. “penelope just sent a group text saying you and spence tried to make out and failed so now you both have matching bruises.”

☼ Stay With Me | angst & fluff (1.1k)

 "You’ve been shot countless times, huh?” “That sounded a bit more reassuring in my head.”

Javier Peña (Narcos)

☼ You'll Always Have Me | fluff (1.3k)

something about peña unsettles you. he has embedded into you so deeply that even though you keep saying his business isn’t your business, you end up following him. wherever he strays, you follow.

Joel Miller (The Last Of Us)

☼ Loving Joel (And His Dad Jokes) | fluff (0.9k)

days like this make you realize how much loving joel makes everything worth it—even his stupid dad jokes.

#masterlist #eideticallys writing #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #narcos #javier peña #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fanfic #javier peña fic #javier peña fluff #javier peña angst #javier peña smut #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller smut #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 - 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐊

Pairing: FEDRA!Javier Peña x firefly!reader

Genre: slice of life, smut, romance, angst, enemies to reluctant friends to lovers, TLOU AU, minors dni

Summary: Javier, a former member of the Federal Disaster Response Agency in Kansas City, is haunted by the guilt and violence he indirectly caused by not taking action when he should have. After fleeing Kansas City in the aftermath of Kathleen's violent overthrow of FEDRA, you and Javier seek refuge in an abandoned train in the middle of a forest.

As you and Javier turn the train into a living space and learn to navigate the dangers of a post-apocalyptic world, you gradually overcome your differences and form an unlikely bond. But when your pasts catch up with you, you must confront the demons that haunt you and make a choice that could mean the difference between life and death. Will you choose to protect each other and find a way to build a new life together, or will the ghosts of your pasts tear you apart?

word count: 0,5k

chapter summary: seasons change, leaving joyful imprints of time's passage in their wake.

warnings: nothing, just fluff

Turntable - A rotating platform used to turn locomotives around, typically located at the end of a rail line or in a rail yard.

Warmth seeps into your skin. The air carrying the scent of freshly blooming flowers and a specific summer smell that reminds you of lazy afternoons where you would lay down on your rug and under the beam of light like a cat. You look to Javier who’s legs are dangling off the edge of the train. He has his run-down guitar on his lap, a smile on his face as he plays with the strings, something resembling a melody blending into the sound of nature. 

You smile and burrow your face into the crook of his neck. He smells nice. It feels good to finally be out in the open, appreciating the peaceful night around you. It had been a harsh winter. You were glad it was over, for now. 

“Seems like my playing is getting better if you’re already melting against me, perla,” his lips brushes against yoru temple, you shudder at the heat of his breath. 

“Or perhaps I’m trying to distract you so I don’t have to listen to it anymore.” 

“It’s hard to learn without a teacher.” 

You smile and look up to him, “I’m just kidding, Javi. You’re definitely getting better.” 

“Then give me a kiss.” 

Even after all this time, he still makes your heart skip a beat. You close the distance, pressing your lips together in a tender kiss. He smiles and takes your bottom lip between his teeth, a soft pain blossoms but disappears quickly when he sucks where the soft dents lay. 

“That’s for teasing me,” he breathes. He carefully places the guitar to the side and motions towards the turntable that sits between you two. The corner of it is cracked, the needle despite all the cleaning still muted in color. "Now, Let's see if this old thing's got some life left in it," Javier mutters, adjusting the needle with practiced fingers.

The needle drops, and the familiar crackle of the vinyl fills the air. Both yours ad Javier’s eyes grow wide, a smile on both of your lips. 

"It works," he says, his eyes lighting up. 

You can't help but grin The music floats around, echoing within the night. The stars overhead twinkle like they're in on the secret.

"Dance with me?" Javi asks, hand extended. 

“Of course.”

You take it, and the two of you start swaying. Javier's arms envelop you, pulling you close. The warmth of his chest against your cheek feels like a haven, a refuge under the vast sky. It feels like a dream but you know it’s real. His presence too strong not to be. His breath is warm against your ear. 

As you move together, Javier's fingers trace gentle patterns on your back. You sigh happily and allow him to guide you. He pulls your head to his chest, and you feel the steady thud of his heart.

“You know,” he mutters, guiding you into a swift turn and pulling you back again. “If it meant meeting you, I would endure a thousand more Outbreaks. That’s how much you mean to me.” 

You cradle his cheeks and pull him in for a quick kiss, you breathe your answer against his lips. 

“I would too.” 

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x fem!reader #javier peña au #the last of us au #tlou au #the last of us fanfic #narcos fanfic #narcos fic

[lavendertales]

Temptation - Javier Peña x f!reader**

Chapter 9 of the Unholy series

summary: Javier finally cracks the mystery surrounding your father’s demise. But breaking the news to you turns out to be hard.

word count: 3k

WARNINGS: semi-public action, blowjob, tension.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

gif: @cindymooons​ 

series masterlist | AO3

As usual, Javier wakes up alone. He knows that you did not expect him to spend the night, nor would you have wanted him to. Javier is too set in his own lonesome ways to care about having another human being infiltrate his personal space, and so are you.

Yet he cannot deny that this morning, he does feel lonely. For the first time in who knows how long, he feels lonely in that bed.

Once or twice he woke up with some of his former flings, but they made themselves scarce before the sun was up in the sky. He liked it that way. It was peaceful, an easy transaction and a passionate exchange of fluids. Yet this morning, he feels lonely.

But he doesn’t allow himself to dwell on all of the dark thoughts swimming at the back of his head. He has work to do.

He does his usual morning routine, ignoring the ache from his cock, still sore, and the subsequent memories that it carries along.

But it’s so damn difficult to bury them. He can’t just bury the lingering memory of the harsh, yet tender grip he’d had over your flesh, its pillowy warmth spilling in between his fingers, or the way he buried himself inside you to the hilt, taking you however he could.

Six times. Six times he’s made you fall apart on his tongue and on his cock. Needless to say, Javier feels sore this morning, though he cannot say this time that all of his needs have been sated, which is ridiculous to think about.

Physically speaking, yes, he is beyond satisfied. But, in an odd turn of events, it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. Like sex doesn’t scratch the basic itch. Like he requires something more to add to that fulfilment.

What he does know with certainty is that he admitted to you that he was jealous, and that he railed you into near oblivion last night because he wanted to be with you.

It’s bullshit.

It’s not just a means to an end.

I’ve never seen in anyone’s eyes what I see in yours.

You feel really good.

He has to stop dwelling on those words before they physically choke him out.

Besides, he’d much rather do that to you.

God, stop it. Stop, stop, stop it. Stop this fucking madness.

If I don’t end this now and go back to being strictly professional, I’m so fucked.

He has work to do. He has to focus on that.

So he dresses up, drinks the dreadful instant coffee he’d made a few minutes prior, and rushes into the embassy. He faintly listens to whatever angered speech Wysession has for him, whatever shenanigans Steve throws at him, and dives straight into work. He does his best to keep it confidential since it falls below the “official” label.

No one noticed him taking those folders out of their dusty shelf. Why would they? After cases have been cataloged, chances are no one will even remember or give a damn about the poor civilians who lost their lives for Escobar’s drug war.

He sits comfortably in his chair, browsing the files. Once upon a time, the pictures of the bodies might’ve triggered some uncomfortable reactions out of him, but not anymore. He looks at them with an impenetrable coldness; his eyes glaze over every word with utmost attention. He doesn’t have much to go on except a name, but it’ll do.

“Hey, Jav, a hand?”

Steve’s voice coos next to him, but it irritates. Javier looks up and sees his partner setting up his desk with plenty of boxes. Huffing, he puts the folder away, careful not to reveal it.

“How the hell did you manage to collect so much shit?” he asks Steve.

“It’s not mine, jackass. These are case files. Escobar’s victims.”

“Light reading, huh?”

Steve chuckles, arranging his desk to the best of abilities. When he hears Javier sigh, he looks up. “What?” he questions.

“Seriously, in front of me? I don’t spend enough time looking at your face?”

“Thanks, I’m flattered.”

Steve takes notice of the crusty folder in Javier’s hands, as well as his focused expression.

“What you got there?”

“Case file.”

Steve knows better than to put pressure on him, so he drops it. At least verbally. His eyes glance once in a while over at Javier, almost as if searching for a change on his face. But his partner remains ever the impassible, steel hard man.

Who could blame Javier? With all the changes going on in Colombia, and in the embassy, everyone’s patience was stretched thin. Compassion was almost nowhere to be found, and happiness much less so. All the agents were running on caffeine, cigarettes and a sole desire to catch the most prolific drug dealer. Some even used hatred as either coping mechanism or fuel to their fire. In any case, times were tougher than ever, and it showed.

Javier reads dutifully, ignoring everyone and everything. He’s trying to find a conclusion, some sort of clarification that would explain what happened. It couldn’t have been impossible. The name was right there in ink, there had to be something—

Hang on.

That’s my signature.

At the bottom of the report stands, indeed, Javier’s rushed signature. He had signed the report. Which means he was the one in charge of this case and subsequently, the file. Which means—

I know who he is.

I know what happened to him.

“No,” Javier murmurs after a while. “Fuck.”

Steve lifts his eyes from his desk and notices a pale, almost sickly looking Javier staring at the folder in his hands.

“What’s wrong?” Steve checks. “Jav. Hey.”

But Javier doesn’t respond. He’s speechless, utterly disarmed by the conclusion he reaches.

With cold, heavy hands, he stands up, stuffing the folder in his jacket. He tunes out the rest, even Steve’s increasingly desperate calls of his name. In this moment, he craves a cigarette. A cigarette, a drink, and you.

But when he does see you outside, smoking and chatting with Sofia, all color drains from his skin, and he swallows harshly around the massive stone newly formed in his throat.

Guilt.

Shame.

And most recent, pain.

Sleep eluded Javier.

Two days later, he feels exhausted, unable to consume anything. Every time he’s made eye contact with you, his stomach twisted itself into an agonizingly tight knot and he felt sick. He avoided you like the plague, leaving you to wonder and speculate about the possible reasons why he’d voluntarily back out of a good old bickering.

After four days, even you became worried.

Especially when he dropped by your desk specifically, gulping and wearing an undeniable countenance of guilt.

“Could you leave us a minute, Sofia?” he asks.

Surprised, Sofia nods and leaves you two.

“Isn’t this an interesting turn of events?” you smile wickedly.

Normally Javier would make some sly comment or even go as far as to say how much he’d like to wipe that smile off your face in the unholiest ways, but right now, he feels too gutted to do any of that.

“Javier Peña, looking absolutely defeated, groveling right in front of me,” you say.

Your tone is cocky and oddly proud, a stark contrast with Javier’s mood.

“I guess you heard the news then,” you continue.

Javier frowns, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh. Well then, I guess I can still have the pleasure of saying it right to your face. I got intel that Blackie and his personally operated mini gang will be at some sleazy bar downtown this weekend, so we’re planning an undercover mission and raid for that.”

You stand up, approaching him with a big, proud smile on your face. For a fleeting moment, Javier can soak up the image and his heart swells in his chest. He forgets the temporary pain and shame, and all he sees is your happiness, your pride in knowing you made great progress in the case.

“Oh, and there’s more!” you keep going, unable to contain your excitement. “La Quica blabbed, revealing some personal information about Pablo, which means that—“

“You win.”

In your happiness, you manage to notice his petrified stance, reflecting nothing more but that. Cold stone. Not even anger, or disappointment, nothing of the sort.

“Not even gonna fight back or anything?”

“You win,” Javier repeats, seemingly in a trance.

“What?” you ask slyly, needing to hear the words come out of his mouth.

“Everything.”

You furrow your brows, feeling more puzzled than ecstatic.

“What’s up with you? You look sickly.”

Javier opens his mouth, yet nothing comes out. Not a word, not a sound.

“Wait, if you didn’t know about this, then what did you came here to tell me?”

He fails to speak once more, heart aching at the mere thought. How can he disclose such sensitive information to you in the middle of your proudest moment so far? It is an incredible achievement and progress, and he cannot take that away from you.

It’s not the time.

She’s so happy and cocky about it.

“Congrats,” he clears his throat. “It’s good work.”

“Good? Try great.”

Javier lowers his head in the ground, indirectly divulging more than defeat.

Shame.

Guilt.

Then he hears you huff, and he sees you moving closer to him in an unexpected turn of events. He hasn’t been this close to you in the office’s open space and he feels nervous, even nauseous to some extent.

“I will admit, you did help,” you whisper to him.

Javier shivers when your warm breath touches his earlobe, your eyes staring deep into his soul and way past his earthly confinements.

“How?” he asks, dumbfounded.

“Well, your last stakeout gave us the last known location of Blackie, and when I interrogated La Quica, I questioned him about it. He confessed it’s true, and told us where he’ll most likely be next.”

“Oh.”

He gulps. The more he stares at you, the more he feels his skin burn again, an unquenchable thirst consuming him from inside out.

But he can’t. There’s too much guilt, too much he has to repent for.

“Look, I wanted to tell you—I found something—“

“I know. It was useful, as much as I hate saying it. So… thank you. I guess.”

“Okay, that’s not what I wanted to say.”

“You know, just this once, I’m feeling very appreciative and generous.”

Javier pulls away, gulping yet again and staring at you bewildered, already ruined and broken down in a million and one pieces.

“What do you mean?” he asks, suddenly feeling very exposed.

“I mean, I am having a very good day, which is a premiere, and I am feeling grateful for the little help you gave towards me and this win of mine, so I’d like to do something nice for you.”

“Well that’s unheard of.”

You smile insultingly. “Don’t get used to it.”

You walk ahead, leaving a dumbfounded Javier behind. Then, you turn to give him a suggestive glare, and he trails suit. He’s not sure where you or his legs are taking him, but all he knows is that he has to follow you. All he knows is that if you want him to do something, he’ll do it in a heartbeat, no questions asked.

He has never known a greater danger than that.

His heart stops when you both reach the evidence room. You take a quick scan around, making sure no one sees you get in, and you rush to shut the door behind you. You stare at him with the same lustful glare from whenever you’ve shared your sins, and Javier is weak.

“We can’t,” he mutters, failing to believe his own words.

“Didn’t stop you when you ate me out in this very room.”

Fuck, he does not need that memory back into his mind, not now. But you’re all about being fair and square, and if he’s thinking what you’re thinking, he is so screwed.

So fucking screwed.

“I figured I’d return the favor,” you clarify.

There’s no more saliva in his mouth and no air to be propelled in his lungs.

“Unless you don’t want me to, in which case, I won’t do a damn thing.”

He’s exasperated and tired and stressed and thinking about that gives him a headache and an erection. He’s a loser in that game.

“Now you’re talking crazy,” Javier tries to joke.

“So is that okay? Is that something you’d—“

“Are you asking me if I want you to fuckin’—blow me? Please. I just—“

You smirk, approaching him again and thus causing him to lose his words again. Javier’s heart threatens to burst out of his chest completely, but, to his shock, you choose to kiss him first.

It’s not sloppy and rushed, not really; it’s more tender and wet, deep and passionate in a sense, like you are finally taking your time in exploring each other’s mouths, and it’s oh so heavenly. You cup his face, pulling him close to you, and he reciprocates in an instant, his own hands going to your waist and remaining there. He’s never thought about how intoxicating it feels to simply kiss you, to have you close to him.

But then, one of your hands drops to his nether area and starts palming him through his dress pants, and Javier groans. He groans even louder into the kiss as you subtly push him into the shelves, your free hand working against his belt.

After a few more torturous seconds, you decide you need both hands, so you break the kiss and remove his belt and unbutton his pants right under Javier’s blown out eyes. His breaths are ragged and out of control already, and you’ve only just kissed him. He knows deep down that he shouldn’t be doing this, not now when his conscience weighs heavily on him, but it feels too good to stop now.

And when he sees you on his knees before him, curling your hand around his cock and starting to jerk him off, he’s fucking gone.

“F-fuck,” he grunts, forcing himself to stay as quiet as possible.

“Shhh,” you coax him sweetly, teasing the tip of his cock, using a combination of your thumb and your tongue.

His hand instinctively goes to grab a handful of your hair, the other holding onto one of the shelves. A regrettable word leaves his mouth next: your name. He hears it, and you do too, but it only determines you more. You stroke the base of his cock, the rest lathering in saliva and sucking attentively, as if it’s the most important task. And perhaps right now, it is.

Javier closes his eyes, consumed by one too many feelings to be even mentioned, indulging into the forbidden moment. What was another sin to add to the list, after all? And there’s none more delicious than you, no other torture sweeter or more desirable.

When he makes the mistake of opening his eyes and looking down, his eyes find yours, and he nearly shatters right then. He’s probably not going to last long anyway, but the mere eye contact is deadly enough to make his insides burn and his body crave yours all over again.

“You’re so—fucking good, Christ…” he can barely say those words as it is.

The feeling of his cock in your warm mouth, licking expertly at the right time, is explosive, and your name staining his lips, a longing desire. In this moment, he’s powerless, a pawn at your will.

“Why are you doing this, fuckin’ hell—“

He smirks, long gone past the edges of sanity, and tugs on your hair to make you attentive.

“Oh yeah, you can’t talk with your mouth full,” he teases.

That’s the Javier I know, you think in some sort of bliss yourself.

You retaliate by deep throating him, as much as you can, and you’re beyond delighted when Javier grunts, the sound serving as warning. But you don’t care: you keep sucking him off as hard and as deep as you possibly can.

That is, until Javier pulls you away, staring at you with darkened eyes. He wraps his own hand around the base of his cock, the other on your jaw.

“Open your fucking mouth, now,” he barely gets out as he strokes himself to completion.

You follow the instruction, eyes locked with his and mouth waiting for the treat it’s about to receive.

Sure enough, seconds later, Javier’s face is scrunched in inevitable ecstasy, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he messily spills his cum over your lips and jaw. The feeling empties him completely, leaves him in shambles, and he knows it does no good for his mental state. But it was also craved, notoriously needed.

While Javier wrestles his conscience and inner demons, his breaths slowly return to normal. He watches you stand back up, cheekily removing the excess arousal from your jaw with your index and taking it to your mouth, sucking slowly.

All while staring right at Javier.

“You’re welcome,” you say smugly.

He doesn’t have any clever remark. Not now, not anymore. He’s told you what you need to know: you won everything.

You won the bet, the case, and him.

And Javier was the sore, bitter loser, with nothing more but a heavy conscience and unrequited feelings.

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#Javier Peña #Javier Peña x reader #Javier Peña x you #Javier Peña fanfiction #Javier Peña fic #Javier Peña fanfic #Javier Peña smut #javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfic #javier pena smut #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #narcos smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #unholy series

[joelmillerisapunk]

**both contain smuuuuut**

Weed/ ice cream man Joel

Joel Miller, the infamously charming weed dealer and local ice cream man, has a penchant for silky button-up shirts adorned with vibrant patterns and prints—a penchant for weed and for pretty women in the summertime. And that's why every summer you can find him in his ice cream truck parked by the beach.

—

"Now, where were we?"

You swallow hard. Your throat feels so, so dry. "You were going to give me the weed," you remind him.

"Ah, yes." Joel reaches into his pocket and pulls out the baggie. "But I think I'd like to collect on my end of the deal first."

Javi P Fic:

You’ve been a DEA agent for a few years now, but you’ve never worked with anyone quite like Javier Peña. He was a seasoned veteran, having been with the agency for over a decade, and he had a reputation for being tough, no-nonsense, and a bit of a loose cannon.

When you were first assigned to work with him on a joint task force to take down a powerful drug cartel in Colombia, you were less than thrilled. You had heard the rumors about him, how he didn't play well with others, how he had a tendency to go off the rails and do things his own way. But you were determined to prove yourself to show that you could hold your own with the best of them.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #javier peña x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena x reader #javier peña smut

[garbinge]

Things I Should Have Said

Javier Peña x F!Reader For the @narcosfandomdiscord October Prompts. Day 5 - Day of Visual Art: Write about a character interacting with a piece of art (e.g. buying decoration for a new home, stealing a piece, hitting on a stranger at a gallery, creating art themselves, etc) Word Count: 2k Warnings: All my fics are 18+, regardless of content. Angsty af. Heartbreaking lowkey. A/N: This was the first fic I wrote for this challenge <3

Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @narcolini @hausofmamadas

The white lights were meant to illuminate the artwork on the walls but it felt like they were a spotlight on you. In a way they were, the pieces on the wall were an extension of your brain, of your thoughts, of the things that were too hard to say outloud but were so easy to put on canvas. It was fitting for your showing title, The Things I Should Have Said But Never Did.

The gallery was beginning to fill up, mostly of people you had never met before. Strangers made it easy to explain your work, there was no judgment, no weight in what you said. If anything, they were fellow artists who were impressed and intrigued by your style, your process. It also helped that you had a couple glasses of champagne before making your way to mingle. 

As you moved around the room, your feet became glued to the ground. The playlist you had running in the background faded from your ears and a ringing filled it’s spot. That was the thing about pouring yourself into your work, sometimes when you saw it right in front of you it brought back all those emotions, all those things you thought you had worked through, and suddenly you were right back in the situation that brought all those thoughts to your head in the first place. 

The smallest canvas in your whole showing was being viewed by someone. The irony in the fact that you chose the smallest canvas to express one of the biggest thoughts in your head for the last 4 years, although there was probably a deliberate choice in that, the avoidance in admitting the thought outloud. 

The emptiness inside me that never vanishes, is a constant reminder of all the things I’ve destroyed just trying to fill a void. 

Those were the words painted over the film photo you had transferred onto the canvas. The film photo that was the memory marker of the start of things destroyed just to fill a void. There were two people in the photo, but they were scratched out, only their silhouettes were visible to the eye now, but it was clear where they were. It was a horse pen outside, one person was sitting on the bottom rail of the fence, comfortable, arms wrapped around the middle rail. The other person was leaning on the post, where the opening of the pen was, there were a few horses in the background. It was funny how you could still pick up body language even from a silhouette, it helped that one of the people in the photo was yourself, so you knew that it was a moment of content, of peace, of what could have been.  

You took a deep breath before finding the courage to take the steps necessary to approach the person staring at the photo. It was literally 10 steps to get there but mentally you needed to get ready to talk about it. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” You asked, not bothering to look at the person but stare at the artwork on the wall as you spoke to them. 

You felt their eyes on you, it lingered for a moment before they went back on the piece. 

“Maybe I’ll just buy it.” The man let out a chuckle, there was a slight country Texan twang in his voice that brought you back to your hometown and put a smile on your face. 

“You’ll pay more than a penny.” You answered him, eyes still on the artwork in front of you.

“But then I don’t have to share the thoughts.” His point was matter of fact even though you could tell he was trying to be funny. 

“Too close to home?” You asked, now turning to look at the man for the first time.

“Yea, you could say that.” He let out another chuckle at that. “Feels like I’m looking into a mirror.” 

“Well the people are siloed out.” You looked back at the work. 

“And yet they’re still so recognizable.” His response was immediate and it held a weight to it. 

“I bet you a lot of people in here have destroyed something trying to fill a void.” You tried to make the man feel a little better. 

“But how many of them broke a heart in the process?” His hands were in his pockets, his eyes were back at the painting almost like he was reminicensing as he stared at it. 

“I think you’d be surprised.” You let a small chuckle out before scanning around the room at the groups of people looking at the work on the wall, gathered by the bar, and some scattered alone throughout the gallery. “I’d say heartbreak comes easy to half of the people in here.” 

“I don’t think there's an easy way to break someone's heart.” 

“It’s as easy as wrong place wrong time, I’ve learned.” You were now looking at him, both of you seeming to be having a deeper conversation between the two of you now. 

The man chuckled again, you were really killing it with your words tonight. 

“You look good.” 

The statement threw you for a loop based on how the conversation was going. 

“And here I thought you came just to compliment the art.” You felt the heat rush to your face and your heart beat a bit faster from the comment he made. 

“I can’t compliment both?” The smile on his face was one that would make someone melt at their feet, that would bring butterflies to anyones gut. 

“I don’t think you drove all the way to New Orleans from Laredo to compliment the art or me, Javi.” You crossed your arms and looked directly at the man you knew so well for 10 years out of your life. 

“Drive? No way. But fly?” He kept the jokes coming. 

“Frequent Flyer Javi.” You teased back. “All that back and forth to Colombia and all it earned you was a trip to see little old me.” 

The mention of Colombia brought a certain vibe over on Javi, it wasn’t one that could just go missed or unanswered. But you knew better than to press for information especially when it was probably something to do with emotions and feelings. 

“And the art, don’t forget the art.” Javi pointed to the walls, still trying to joke but this time to mask the pain that just got brought up to the surface. 

“I haven’t heard from you in 5 years, Javi. I know you didn’t come here to look at some fucking art.” 

“Hey, give yourself more credit than that.” He spoke up to defend you. 

“Javi, I’m being serious.” You spoke like you weren’t in a gallery full of people, like it was just the two of you chatting over coffee. 

“I’m back home.” 

3 words but you knew what it meant. 

“I saw the news. Saw that they caught him.” You didn’t need to get into detail, especially around all these people. 

“Yea, well, actually, I got sent home a little earlier.” He shrugged and was staring at the artwork on the wall now. 

There wasn’t anyway for you to know what happened but you could tell that it wasn’t exactly good. 

“I’m sorry. I know how much the case meant to you.” That was true, you knew that all too well. It was the reason things were the way they were between you. 

“Ouch.” Javi joked, deflecting his way through this entire conversation with you. “Not sure what hurts more, that statement or this photo.” He pointed at the photo. “You might have crossed out the people but I know that photo. That’s me and you. On the ranch.” 

You didn’t say anything, it was true, it was a photo of you and Javi on his father’s ranch. The horse pen was where you both spent so much time together, talking, venting, not talking, kissing, falling in love. 

“You really think that?” Javi nodded towards the words. 

The emptiness inside me that never vanishes, is a constant reminder of all the things I’ve destroyed just trying to fill a void. 

“I do.” You nodded. 

“How come you never told me that.” He was genuinely asking, you could tell. 

You let out your own chuckle and gestured around the room, referring to the whole gallery of The Things I Should Have Said But Never Did.

“I’m being serious.” His voice got firm. 

“Fuck you, Javi.” The words were quick to come from your mouth. “This shit is serious.” You felt offended. “Typical fucking Javier Peña. 5 years and you haven’t fucking changed a bit.” Despite the tone of your voice, you weren’t yelling. He might have been ruining this moment for you, but you weren’t going to ruin it for yourself by causing a scene. 

“I’m sorry.” Javi said, now bringing his hand up to his face before dragging it down in stress. 

There was a silence between the two of you, out of trying to keep occupied, you both stared at the photo of the two of you on the wall. Both remembering that day, remembering what happened later that night. 

“I didn’t write that about you.” You spoke up, still not having the desire to look at him. “I wrote that about myself.” 

Javi’s eyes quickly fell on you and then back at the artwork before shaking his head confused. 

“I know you think you destroyed us by leaving for Colombia, but I didn’t exactly beg you to stay either. I wasn’t ready, Javi.” 

“We were in a relationship for 4 years.” He frowned, confused by what you were saying. 

“That was barely any different than our friendship the 6 years prior.” You continued. “I was never meant to be there, on that ranch, in Laredo, I’ve always been a passing ship, everything I do is to fill the void of well, being alone. Not having family. Not having friends.” 

“I was your friend.” Javi brought his hands into his pockets. 

“And it still wasn’t enough for me, Javi. Because then you were my boyfriend. And that wasn’t enough. I was–am, lonely and empty.” 

That sentence was heavy, and it was clearly something Javi never thought about, he was always wrapped up in his own destroying of relationships. 

Quickly, with a deep breath you cleared your throat, “But hey, it makes for great art. What can I say.” It was an attempt to clear the tension in the air. You turned your head to look at Javi and you let out another sigh as you took in the sight of him. “You staying in town? Maybe we could grab dinner, or something?” 

“I’m leaving tonight. I, uh, I’m going back.” 

The smallest smile filled your face. You were both so alike, the work being the only thing that you could depend on in life. 

“Good, that’s good.” You nodded. 

“I’m gonna get going, but it was good seeing you.” He reached out and squeezed your arm before taking a few steps in his effort to leave. 

Everything in you wanted to say something, tell him to stop, tell him something more than what you originally said but you were at a loss. 

Javi turned around, quickly pulling something out of his wallet and handing it to you. It took you a minute to register was what in your hand even though you were just staring at pretty much the same thing for the last 20 minutes. 

“I love the piece, I love all of this. But– keep that, stare at the people in that photo for a little bit tonight, I think they both deserve to be cut a little slack, especially the one sitting on the pen.” And with that, he was waving goodbye quickly, leaving you there with the original film photo of the two of you, two people who you thought were empty and good at destroying things just to fill a void, but now that you stared at the original photo, it got you thinking that maybe you were just two people who were emotionally fucked. 

Either way, it was fitting that this happened here. Because now that Javi was gone, you suddenly had a million things in your head you wished you said. But instead of saying it, you flipped the photo over and took a pen out from your pocket and wrote 3 words on the back of it and tucked it safe in your pocket.

“I love you.” 

#Narcoctober #narcos #narcos netflix #javier peña #javi peña #Javier Peña x Reader

[pascalscenarios]

MUST HAVE BEEN THE WIND (Javier Peña x Reader)

MUST HAVE BEEN THE WIND 

(Based on the song “Must Have Been The Wind” by Alec Benjamin)

Scenario Series

Javier Peña x Reader

Summary: Javier lives below you, curious of the noise and why’ve you’ve been crying 

Words: 1638

Warning: Toxic Relationship, Arguments

A/N: Hope you all are well! - K

Javier Peña was out cold, worn from working a case that lasted a few days out on the field. The television softly played as his body lay sprawled out on the old and weathered leather couch, wearing nothing but his plaid pattern boxers. Javier's heavy head rested propped up against the armrest. His mouth hung open as his chest rose and fell, deeply breathing through his mouth, snoring ever so slightly. His legs were partly spread open as one of his legs draped over the back cushions of the couch. His arm rested across his torso. The other dangling off the side of the sofa with a half-empty cup of whiskey clutched in his hand.

Nothing could wake him up from his deep sleep. That was until the sound of glass shattering from the apartment up above him startled him awake.

His eyes had shot open. He was a little disoriented, unsure of where the sound came from. Sitting up on the couch, he set his glass on the coffee table, switching it out for the television remote to turn it off, thinking the loud sound came from the movie he fell asleep watching.

He looked around his living room, scoping out if there was anything out of the ordinary. After a few minutes of listening, he decided it was best to just get up some shut-eye in his bedroom. He stands up from the chair and makes his way down the hallway. He enters his room located at the end of the hall, immediately laying himself on the bed.

As he tried to fall asleep he couldn’t help but listen to the commotion, the continuous sounds of thuds and bangs. His eyes opened, staring at the ceiling.

“What the hell…” he cursed to himself, his eyes frowning, wondering what was happening above him.

Then he heard the voice of you crying. Your muffled cries could be heard from above. Javier's irritated expression faded as he listened to you wail.

He was concerned now.

Javier didn’t know the person living above him, but he needed to see if they’re okay. He knew something wasn’t right. He wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing he could have done something to help them.

Javier took the stairs up to the 2nd floor, walked down the hallway, and knocked upon your door.

He stood there waiting for a few minutes. No one came to the door. He knocked again, hoping he didn’t have to bust down the door to get inside.

By the third time, as he was in mid knock, the door opened. You stood there partially hiding behind the door using it as a shield between you and Javier. Your tied-back hair was disheveled, eyes were puffy and red. You quickly used the sleeves of your sweater to wipe any tears that may have remained on your face and to try to hide the fact you’d been crying.

Telling from your body language you were uneasy, Javier backed away from the door, giving a good amount of space between the both of you.

“Hi...” Javier said softly. He’s seen you around in the apartment building before, usually in passing.

“I’m Javier Peña, I live in the apartment below yours. I’m sorry to bother you this late, but I was hearing a bit of a commotion coming from your place. I came to check to see if you were alright.”

“I think your ears are playing tricks on you.” You prompted. He noticed that your sweater zipped up to your chin. You knew there was no doubt that Javier could hear the fight that happened only moments ago, but you were ashamed, embarrassed that he did. You didn’t want to admit that it happened.

Javier knew you were sacred and wasn’t going to open up and come clean on what happened, especially to a stranger.

“Thanks for caring sir, that's nice of you, but I have to go back in.” You say slowly closing the door, trying to get him to leave and retreat to his apartment.

“Wish I could tell you about the noise you’ve been hearing, but I didn’t hear a thing...” You shrug.

“It must have been the wind.” You muttered.

He didn’t want to pry or push you further, so he went along with what you’ve said.

“I guess I was wrong. I’m sorry to have disturbed you this late, Goodnight”

You give him a broken smile and shut the door.

Javier starts walking down the hallway, turning back to look at your door. He was concerned for you but knew something was going on.

…

A couple of days have passed. He continued to hear the arguments above. Javier couldn’t shake the feeling. He didn’t want to intrude because he knew he didn’t have all the facts, but he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you.

He couldn’t get the image of you in his head that night when he saw you. Your tear-stained face and puffy eyes. You looked so fragile, tired and worn.

He could hear you crying right now. The thin walls and floor held nothing back. He wanted to go up and check on you, but he figured you’d turn him away again after he went back to see you a day after the first night. You told him the same thing you did last time “It must have been the wind”

An idea popped into his head. He wasn’t sure you’d get the message, but he had to try.

He walked over to where his record player was, filing through vinyl in a crate that his record player sat on top of.

He finds the vinyl, slipping out the record from the protective sheet, and placing it on the turntable. He turns the record player on and moves the needle. He turns a dial to turn up the volume on his speakers.

…

You laid on your bathroom floor hysterically crying. Another night fighting with your boyfriend. Your relationship was falling apart and you were desperately trying to save it. You hated that he would break things and throw things around. He would blow things out of proportion. You had no idea why you were even trying anymore or why you even put up with him. You knew he didn’t care, he never did, but he was all you have. You felt alone.

As you lay there on the floor you hear music coming from the apartment down below. You slowly start to calm down as you listen to the singing voice of Bill Withers

“Lean on me, when you’re not strong and I’ll be your friend. I’ll help you carry on…”

It was Javier. You knew what he was trying to tell you. He wanted to help you, letting you know you could go to him. He already tried to help you, but you had turned him away, pretending things were fine.

The two of you knew you weren’t fine. You continued laying, curling up listening to the song.

…

Javier was on the roof of the apartment building. He leaned against the brick wall that lined the edge of the building. He was smoking a cigarette as he watched the lights of the city.

You came to the roof to get some fresh air. You busted through the door, Javier turned to look over his shoulders and noticed you.

You had locked eyes. You stopped dead in your tracks as you stood in the doorway. Javier breaks eye contact as he turns back to look at the city and exhales a puff of smoke.

You slowly make your way over to him. You stood next to him, you placed your arms on top, leaning against the brick railing.

“Hi…” You say softly.

“Hi”

“I-I never gave you my name…” You introduced yourself to him.

“I’m Javi-”

“Javier Peña...I know. I remember” you smile softly. “...I’ve seen you around before in the building... What are you doing? Up here I mean…”

“Needed a smoke and a change of scenery. I come up here to think sometimes.”

“Me too.. The thinking part. Not to smoke- I don’t smoke”

Javier chuckled. “Well that’s good to know. I was going to offer you one”

You two silently stand there looking off in the distance. You didn’t mind the silence. It was odd, he’s somewhat of a stranger to you, yet felt comfortable and safe around him.

He looks over at you. “Are you okay?” he asks.

You look up at him, his eyes searching for an answer. You sigh, hanging your head in shame and you fiddle with your fingers. Tears filling your eyes.

“Promise I'm not playing tricks on you. You're always welcome to come in. You could stay at my place for an hour or two If you ever need a friend. We can talk about the noise when you're ready, but 'till then I'll say, "It must have been the wind”

Javier one last drag of his cigarette and exhales. He drops it on the ground, smashing it in. He sticks his hands in his pockets and walks away back over to the roof door.

“Javier-”

He stops turning around to look at you.

“Goodnight”

“Night”

With that Javier leaving you standing on the roof alone.

…

The next morning you built up the courage to talk to Javier. You made it down to his apartment and knocked on his door, patiently waiting.

Javier opens the door seeing you stand there fidgeting with your fingers.

“Hey” he greets you

“Hi… I’m sorry to bother you. I thought about what you told me last night. I could use a friend… talk about the noise...I-if that’s okay…”

“Yeah, of course. I was actually about to head down to the diner down the street to get some breakfast and a cup of coffee...Do you wanna go? Can sit and talk..”

“Okay...Yeah I’d like that” you smile softly.

“Okay” he grabs his jacket and keys off the hook and shuts the door. “Let’s go”

Javier and you walked down the hallway together beginning to talk about the so called “wind”.

MT // @wifeofdindjarin @icanbeyourjedi @sara-alonso@greeneyedblondie44 @hb8301​  @alberta-sunrise@spacenerdpascal @ryleyrooroo @reader-s-cantina 

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier #javi #Pedro Pascal #pedro

[mellowswriting]

Sweet but Fierce S/O

**some of these are more blurbs than headcanons... what can I say, it got away from me

Mando: 

The duality is something Mando sees often with you, and he can’t deny that he loves it. You aren’t just sweet and soft with him, an experienced bounty hunter who by definition was the opposite of soft, but you were so good with the Child. You could get him to sleep like you had cast a spell over him, fed and played and talked with him as if you could actually understand his babbling. Soft and sweet wasn’t something Mando saw often in his life and now he can’t get enough of it.

But Mando is familiar with fierce, and seeing the way you protect the Child and his beskar-clad father? It honestly turns him on beyond comprehension. How can the same hands that provide comfort and care so readily also viciously break the bones in the wrist of someone unfortunate enough to have made a grab for the Child? How can the same hands that make warm, delicious food for your little clan (a habit you picked up after balking at Mando’s tendency to survive solely on ration bars) also steadily hold a blaster to the temple of an idiot who tried to remove Mando’s helmet?

As a Mandalorian, he is so used to the world being black and white, either or. Every bit of you is refreshing to him - the considerate gestures, the soothing touches, the biting need to protect those you love. It’s a precious quality. 

It’s also incredibly attractive. Mandalorian culture is based in caring for and protecting children, so seeing you so fiercely loving?? Basically it makes him want to rail you into oblivion, but that’s neither here nor there. 

Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales:

Frankie could use a little sweetness in his life. It’s been a tough time, coming back from all that shit that went down in South America. He was closer than ever with the boys of course, but something was missing. He needed something more. So when Pope introduced you to him at his barbeque, Frankie was beyond interested.

It was a whirlwind, falling in love with you. You changed his life in the best ways; taught him which yoga poses would help with his achy back, filled his house with soft blankets and delicious coffees, listened to him ramble on as he drove. And the way you talked about your work, your career? It’s enamoring. 

Your work is how he gets to see that fierce side. The two of you were out to lunch when your phone rang - it was one of your clients, apparently dealing with some sort of crisis. Frankie couldn’t deny you when you asked him to drive you to her home, especially since he had driven you to the small restaurant. Frankie leans against his car door as you go up to her house. 

Apparently her landlord was illegally trying to evict her. You have no issue getting in his face and telling him with a terrifying kind of calm that you have no issue calling the police and your company’s lawyers. You’ll have him buried in litigation and fines for the next decade if he doesn’t stop being a greedy piece of shit and go about his day elsewhere. If that wasn’t enough to have Frankie wide eyed (and drooling just a bit tbh), you seem to fall right back into your sweet self as you calm your client and reassure her that all will be fine. 

Hell, maybe Frankie could use a little spitfire in his life, too.

Javier Peña:

How? Just. How?

Javier doesn't understand how you've managed to be so sweet when surrounded by the shit you both worked with everyday. Your eyes are so bright and soft, your smiles easy and pure, every gesture full of unwavering kindness. Working in admin meant you saw all of the reports, all of the gruesome pictures of the aftermath of Escobar’s men. So again: how?

Christ, you always offer to get coffees for him and Murphy on those endlessly long days where every lead seems to fizzle out and he wants nothing more than to put his hand through a wall. Your presence is a bright spot in the office, even when the rain clouds hang heavy around his head. 

Javier seeks you out on those bad days. It isn’t intentional - usually, at least. He’ll tell Murphy he needs to go for a walk before he starts throwing things and will find himself at your desk with you looking up at him with those big, soft eyes and asking if you can help at all. If only he had the words to tell you that your presence was helpful in and of itself. 

Eventually Murphy gets onto him about it, tells him to just ask you out already because he’s tired of the longing. So Javi bucks up and makes his way to your desk with a surprising amount of nerves in his stomach. Fuck, how long had it been since he asked someone on an actual date and not just out to drinks as a prelude to fucking?

The sight of Agent Buchanan perched slightly on the edge of your desk gives him pause. The man is obviously laying on the charm and Javi is about to turn on his heel when he notices how uncomfortable you look. Javi’s eyes narrow because seriously? This dude is gonna fuck with the one literal ray of sunshine in the office? Buchanan leans forward and places his hand on your thigh and that’s when Javier is marching forward to break his spine in fucking half…

Before he can even get to you, you slip your fingers under his and give him that soft, sweet smile… and Buchanan’s middle finger is shoved back at a vicious angle. Over his pained sounds, Javier can hear the anger in your voice. “I said no thank you, asshole.”

Holy fuck. If Javier was interested before, he’s downright obsessed now. 

And as always, the honorable mention of Javier’s innocence kink. 

Ezra: 

At first Ezra thinks it's some sort of bluff, the charming and easygoing nature you portrayed. When you came across him in the Green wounded and in dire need of a new filter and probably a meal or two, you just… helped him. His very own partner left him for dead, and here you were, offering him a lifeline without expecting anything in return.

Yeah, no. That’s not something that happens, especially not in the Green.

He isn’t afraid to call you on it, either. This man is straight and to the point in every aspect of his life, might as well do the same in his death instead of getting jerked around. But you just… grinned, all conspiratorial, and whispered, “I’m actually just using you for good karma. This is a selfish act, don’t worry.” 

Huh.

It takes Ezra a moment to be assured that you aren’t playing some kind of long con as you nurse him back to health. You still clean his wounds and force him to take medication to help his lungs recover from the toxic air with confidence and ease despite his untrusting looks. Once he gets over his fears, there’s no getting rid of him. Ezra likes you. He likes the sweetness, the gentle touches. That’s why he offers you his partnership and beams when you accept.

Besides simply liking you, your kindness is a rarity that sparks a deep need in Ezra to keep you safe, protected. The idea of you harvesting on your own with no one to watch your back makes him feel sick to his stomach.

It’s the third day he’s out harvesting with you that he realizes you absolutely do not need his protection. You hear the duo approaching before Ezra does and immediately shove him into the raised, gnarled roots behind a tree - and the shot that would’ve caught him in the chest flies harmlessly past. Before Ezra can tell you to stay put and let him handle it, you’re scrambling out from behind the tree and he can hear the sound of your thrower discharging and a body crumpling to the ground. 

Ezra shoots out to help but you’re trying to wrestle the other man to the ground and Kevva damnit, he can’t get a clear shot with all that writhing about. Just as he goes to jump into the mix, whatever hold you have on the man straightens his arm out behind his back in a harsh, unforgiving line. The man’s thrower slips from his incapacitated hand and the sight of you snatching up midair and firing it right through his helmet has to be the most erotic thing Ezra has ever seen.

You can expect this man to wax poetic about the twofold of your personality for hours. Goes on and on about how he loves seeing the different ways you light up: in passion, in pleasure, in anger. It’s downright titillating. 

Marcus Pike:

Working with you gives leaves Marcus in the perfect position to see both sides. You’re so compassionate with the victims as you guide them through the legal processes but you also look ridiculously hot with a gun in your hand. Or while you pull on your bulletproof vest. Or when you’re strapping a holster to your thigh.

What can he say, Marcus can’t get enough of you either way. 

He loves when you give him that grateful smile when he brings you a coffee. The shoulder rubs you give him when he’s been sitting at his desk for too long leave him hazy with a mix of love and pleasure. The way you open your arms up for him to crawl into bed, still half asleep but still wanting him against you… it was pure heaven. 

Marcus also loves the hard edge in your voice when you’re interrogating a suspect. He loves the fire in your eyes when he wraps a hand around your throat and growls out exactly what he’s going to do to you, that bratty energy radiating off you and filling him with the need to break you down until he gets to see the pretty, begging glimmer of his sweet little thing again. 

Max Phillips:

Max is the kind of man who loves having a pretty, wide eyed thing beneath him, watching their face morph into that surprised pleasure. That’s exactly what he’s gonna get from you, too. He just knows it.

You’re the kind of person everyone loves working with, always offering a smile and kind words throughout the day. You work so hard and so diligently, that work ethic is something that leaves you offering your assistance when you’ve finished up before closing time. Max thrives on those moments where you peek into his office and ask if there’s anything he needs - maybe a coffee or some help with some paperwork. 

One day he decides, fuck it. Throws caution to the wind because hey, this is Max fucking Phillips we’re talking about here. So he waves you in when you pop by, lets you sit in one of the chairs on the other side of his desk, and whispers “You can help by bending that pretty little ass over my desk.”, his hands braced on either armrest. 

The last thing Max expects is a harsh smack across his face. He stumbles back, eyes wide as you stand and glare at him. “Go fuck yourself, Phillips.” 

Okay, yeah. He deserved that. The great thing about him, though? Max also loves the chase. And what could be better than slowly but surely convincing you that the best thing for you is letting him rail you into oblivion? 

Pero Tovar:

Before he sees that fierce side of you, Pero keeps his distance. He’s a sellsword for god’s sake, he feels he has no business around such softness. He’ll hurt you, he’s sure of it. But that doesn’t stop him from looking. Pero often sees you in the market and every time, you take his breath away. You could usually be found aiding an elder in gathering their shopping into their carts or kneeling down to speak with the local children running amok.

As a man who spent his life surrounded by battle and hardship, it was a nice change.

It wasn’t long until he caught your eye, and Pero floundered. He didn’t know what to do with that first small gesture - he just stared at you when you offered him a small bundle of cheeses and meat to aid him on his two month long journey he was about to set off on. Of course he later cursed himself for the stunned silence he offered in response to your well wishes and the small wave you gave before you left him standing like a fool next to his horse. 

Pero would thank you properly when he returned, that was the resolve he came to while away. You deserved to hear the words at the very least. He takes a moment to clean up before he sets out to find you, not wanting you to see him covered in grime, and as always, he spots you within moments of entering the village. Except something is… off. Your face through the shop window lacks it’s usual brightness, your eyebrows pinched together, something akin to fear replacing the brightness your eyes usually held. That’s when Pero realizes there’s a man holding a dagger to the shopkeeper and demanding the man's coin. 

By the time Pero has his own dagger in hand and shoves through the door, the man is already crumpling to the ground from the harsh kick you landed at the back of his knee. Pero watches in  awe as you take advantage of his confusion to snatch the blade from his hand and point it at him with your foot pressed firm to his back. 

Despite just how amazing you look like that, Pero takes over quickly, wanting you out of harm’s way immediately. The assailant is taken care of after a small struggle and when you rush towards him to make sure he isn’t hurt, a fire lights in his belly. As you fret over him, your soft hands searching for any harm to his scarred, calloused skin, Pero knows. He’s found his person, he can feel it in his gut, deep in his bones. 

#din djarin x reader #din djarin headcanons #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales headcanons #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike headcanons #ezra prospect x reader #ezra x reader #ezra prospect headcanons #ezra headcanons #javier peña x reader #javier pena headcanons #max phillips x reader #max phillips headcanon #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar headcanons #the great wall #the mandalorian #triple frontier #prospect #narcos #bloodsucking bastards

[lunasblipsandblurbs]

Could you possibly do some head cannons with the Pedro boys and a thicker reader. :)

As a babe on the thicker side herself all I can say is YAAAAAASSSSSS

*Gender Neutral (breeding kink mentioned at the end of Din Djarin's)

* see calling out post on neglecting fat bodies as a whole in Pedro writing...*

Ahahahaha....I do that 🙃 (vine reference)

But for real gang I wanted to step back in and edit some more descriptive terms for thicker reader here. While focusing on staying as gender neutral as possible I only focused on thighs and hips in the original post. And while we all love some hips and thighs its shitty to neglect this being a thicker/plus size reader and not even mention a tummy or jiggle. I edited it to show how the boys appreciate other parts of your thick body as well 💜

WARNING MATURE THEMES 18+

Din Djarin

The moment Din saw you he could feel all his blood rush down south to his rapidly stiffening cock. You're just so soft yet strong at the same time. And he's a sucker for soft curves, dips and rolls of any kind. This man lives for your hips and tummy. He loves the way you feel cradling his hips with yours with his big hands gripping your strong thighs. He loves that he can really fuck roughly into you and he loves watching your body bounce as he rails into you. Also hips and your lower tummy just really really get him going its that one place he always likes to grab and caress at most. Cough breeding kink cough

Javier Peña

When Javier's eyes came to stop on your form in the seedy bar he was currently at he could feel a boyish smirk begin to twitch under his mustache. Oh, you were a pretty little thing alright. Soft curves and slopes in your best pair of jeans that hugged your ass perfectly. You worked at the office so hopefully that was enough to- "hey Javi I didn't know you came to this bar!" Oh thank God you threw out the ice breaker. "Hey honey, why don't you sit with me?" You are not proud to say thats how you and Javi's relationship really kicked off later that night. By him having you bent over, ass up as he pounds into you from behind. Gripping at your ass. Caressing your love handles. He's everywhere, its when he leans back to really appreciate your fuller figure jiggling with every thrust. Grunting behind you how he "loves to watch this ass bounce" as he spanks you sporadically.

Frankie Morales

Frankie just about drools when his eyes first fall on you. Can you fucking blame him? You have the softest looking curves and a pretty face to go with it. You're the physical embodiment of what this man needs in his life, softness. And you are soft and sweet to Frankie in all ways. One of his favorite things to do while he tastes how sweet you really are is when you get to your high and he feels your thick thighs squeeze his face. He loves being able to push one of them down with one hand while the other runs up your thicker, softer tummy and sides. He keeps your thigh stuck open with one hand while the other pins your hips/lower tummy to the bed as you whine and whither under his mouth.

Ezra

Oh you are everything Ezra could have wanted and more. You are soft, kind, and sweet to this jaded man. A feature that is not always easy to keep when he regresses and spirals to being scornful and apathetic towards the universe. But once he finds himself in your soft and warm embrace. Him gripping your thicker, squishier curves as he guides you up and down his straining, dribbling cock. You are a devine being in his eyes, pure perfection sculpted from the heavens themselves to place your perfect soul within your luxurious body.

Max Phillips

When Max first saw you it took him everything not to whistle and howl by how fucking banging he thought you looked. Instantly ready to approach his ~prey~(ew, Max, can you not?) He essentially sauntered up and try to literally charm the pants off you. Luckily his ~conquest~ (ew, CAN YOU NOT) was accommodating and he is super charming when he wants to be, and thats with 0 vamp hypno shit. He really liked how you tightened up around his cock when he wrapped his arms under your soft legs and literally picked you up and fucked up into you. Seeing your soft plush body all scrunched up, jiggling from his thrusts because HE'S holding you up? Yeah thats gonna get you both to your bliss. Hook, line, sinker if Max wants you, hes gonna get you and hes gonna get you addicted to him.

Pero Tovar

Sign him the fuck up, if you are thicker he's going to LOVE you. Not only are you totally his type but he doesn't have to worry about you fucking freezing to death in the winter because you aren't just a tiny waif of a thing. Also may I also bring up again SIZE KINK yeah you may be thicker than some common folk but Pero Tovar is not common folk. He's still bigger than you and he takes full advantage of it. He loves pushing your plush thighs all the way up so your deliciously thick legs can drape over his shoulder while he absolutely plows into you. He loves this position with you because he can fully take you in. All curved inward due to his rough pace, your whole upper body moving with his thrusts. He loves gripping onto your folds and thicker neck as he wrecks you. That's another great thing, Pero is not afraid to let loose and really show you his strength because you can handle it. Just because you're thicker doesn't mean he can't bend and toss you around like he "knows his little whore loves.

#the mandolorian x reader #din djarin x reader #frankie morales x reader #ezra prospect x reader #ezra (prospect) x reader #max phillips x reader #pero tovar x reader #mature writing #tw mature #curvy reader #plus size reader #javier pena x reader #tw body image #tw body talk

[221bshrlocked]

Deepest of Desires

Y’all I don’t know why I’m doing this to myself but here we go. I’ve already talked about what some of Pedro’s Characters’ kinks would be but I need to compile them in one place...don’t ask me why. All suggestions for any characters are welcomed, I will happily add to the filth on this list.

Warnings: NSFW under cut

Words: 6K+

The Mandalorian - Breeding Kink. Period.

You somehow don’t notice it at first. He’s always careful not to make a mess of you because he thinks you deserve to be worshiped and not taken like a common whore. But then it gradually escalates and you’re not sure what caused this new change but you don’t mind it. Little do you know, Din noticed the little bump in your arm one night when he was kissing every inch of your skin. And something switches inside him and he becomes more needy and desperate whenever he fucks you. The first time he comes in you, you think it’s because he may have been distracted so you don’t think too much about it. The second time, you blame it on the kid cooing from the other room just as Din comes. It’s the third time that gives you an inclination as to what Din has been doing because not only does he cum in you, but he continues to fuck you and moves his hands down to feel your combined juices soaking your skin and the sheets. You feel overwhelmed by how much it turns him on but say nothing, choosing to bring it up another time. When it finally rolls around, and you’re in the middle of the most passionate, sweaty, crazed sex ever, you pull him down and mouth at his jaw, begging him to cum in you. Din freezes for a moment and you hope you haven’t said the wrong thing. Before you think twice of it, he’s hooking one leg up against his shoulder and railing into you, whispering his need to fill you up with his cum over and over again until you’re leaking with it. You could barely manage to respond, moaning when he tells you how often he thinks about breeding you, how much he wishes he could fuck a baby in you, and how hard he gets when he pictures you nursing his kid while taking care of the little womp rat. And you all but lose it when he cums in you and continues to fuck you, not caring about the filthy squelching sounds emitting from where you’re joined as he ensures you reach your pleasure. As soon as he tells you how he wishes he could fuck your tits when they’re full of milk and suck on them until you’re oversensitive and you’re soaking him, you’re coming on his cock and are reduced to a mess as he pushes his cum deep into your aching cunt to ensure that not a single drop is wasted. And it’s not until later that he suggests you take the implant out so he could see your belly growing with his child.

Agent Jack ���Whiskey’ Daniels - Bondage, preferably with his lasso or whip.

Jack loves to play in the bedroom but he never brings it up with you, afraid that his tastes might be a little too much for someone as sweet and innocent as you. You’ve only known each other for a couple of months but he’s been smitten when you walked in and showed him who’s boss during one of the training sessions. And ever since then, he’s wanted nothing more than to tie you up to his bed and have his way with you all night long. But he’s reluctant because even if this dating thing is official, he’s still the senior agent and he should be taking care of you everywhere, including the bed. So mark him surprised when you literally crawl to him on your knees one day with his lasso hanging loosely around your neck and tell him to take you on the floor. Jack loses whatever self control he has left and instantly take hold of the lasso, pulling you towards the couch until you’re kneeling in between his spread thighs. He tightens it just a little as he nods to his belt, almost coming as soon as he feels your lips around his cock and your nails digging into his thighs. You beg him to take what he wants and he trusts that you’ll tell him to stop should you feel uncomfortable. And that’s how his little games with you start. You’re either following him around with the rope around your neck like a fucking collar or you’re bending over or getting on all fours as he expertly whips your backside without breaking skin. It makes him hard knowing how much you trust him and he finally has the courage to ask you if it was possible to tie you to his bed. You’re all giggles and smiles before you run up to his room and strip for him, barely letting a moment pass after he ties you before you’re begging him to fuck you dumb. He takes you in as many positions as possible all night long and you take everything he gives you like a little sweet girl. Whether your hands are tied or your legs are tied and spread out open for him, not a single complaint leaves your lips. And he keeps fucking you long after the two of you are sensitive because he can’t believe how lucky he got with you and how willing you are for him to take over.

Javier Peña - Degradation in the forms of Dirty Talk, Choking, and Spanking.

There is a lot of pent up frustration and aggression that Javi keeps bottled up throughout the day. And you realize this job is really getting to him when he stops visiting his friends after work. When you ask him why he doesn’t go to any of them anymore, his answer is surprising. It’s not because he doesn’t want to have sex anymore, no. It’s because he can’t get the same satisfaction out of a simple fuck. And when you press him further, he tells you that he would never want to mistreat one of them how he wants to because they’ve seen enough and they don’t deserve seeing this ugly side of him and they really don’t deserve getting called all sorts of names that fly through his lips in the moments of passion. So you strike a bargain with him. It’s much more difficult to convince him than you think it would be considering how much you know he enjoys this and you leave it on the table until one day, he knocks on your door and apologizes because he can’t take it anymore. There is an awkwardness to what the two of you do in the beginning and he does nothing of what you know he yearns to do. But slowly, his touches get rougher, his words get harsher, and before you know it, he’s no longer the private, somehow shy agent that you’ve worked with for a few years now. No. He’s a man who twists his hands into your hair and pulls you up to him when he needs to bite your neck. He slaps your ass until you’re a crying mess and then he calls you his ‘sweet fucking cockslut’ because you’re taking him so well. You occasionally find his hand around your throat as he rails into you against the wall or in the shower or even on the floor when he’s desperate, and you can tell that he enjoys this more than he’s letting on because the louder you whine for him, the harder his thrusts become and the tighter his grip around your neck is. He loves sees the bruises after and he especially enjoys it when you don’t bother to hide the handprints beneath a scarf. No, you wear it proudly so everyone knows not to fuck with you. And it takes you a while to notice that it’s the fastest way he could get you coming, something that he realizes much before you, hence the constant need to keep his fingers tight around your your lovely skin. But as rough as Javi gets, he also knows how to take care of you after. You smile when you hear gruff voice whispering how perfect you were for him and how he can’t believe you’re letting him do this and how lucky he is to have someone like you giving him this much pleasure and allowing him to use you as if you were nothing more than a harlot. He leaves you sore and bruised most of the time, and his words echo in your mind until you fall asleep and dream of him fucking you over and over again...

My cockslut...Little fucking whore...Letting me fuck you like a bitch in heat...This is my filthy cunt...You belong to me querida...Look how pathetic you are...You gone cockdumb now hermosa? I own you...My fuckdoll...My filthy girl...I’m gonna fill all your holes...Such a good girl for letting me fuck this ass...You’re mine my little whore...No one gets to fuck this except me...You’re nothing but a quick fuck that gets me off...So filthy...Worthless...Wet pussy...Scream my name...Or better yet, shut the fuck up so we don’t wake the neighbors...Fucking hell this cunt is so wet...knew it...Knew you were a whore.

Pero Tovar - Spitting Kink or anything with fluids really.

He’s still unsure of how he managed to have you lay in his arms night after night. He swears this is a dream because you’re an angel and he’s a monster. But you go to him night after night, begging him to have his way with you. Tovar loses his mind when you moan his name so innocently and he can’t bring himself to deny you anything when you’re asking him so sweetly and spread out for him. He does, however, grow quiet when he watches you one day as you get on your knees and suck on his cock until he cums down your throat. But that’s not what surprised him, no. It’s that you’re drooling and spitting and making a mess of yourself. And Tovar likes how you look when your chest is messy with your spit and his seed. This interest only gets worse when he fucks you so hard you squirt around him, and he wants to do that again. He wants to bring you this much pleasure again. So he fucks you hard and deep until you’re soaking the two of you and then he’s coming hard. And before he does anything, you’re leaning down and licking his cock, humming when you taste yourself on him. And that seems to be it for him because he grabs your chin and forces you to open your mouth, and before you can say anything, he’s spitting twice in on your tongue and shoving his fingers deep down your throat. He’s proud of your shocked expression and swears into the night when you get on all fours and start sucking him off again, this time knowing that he has his spit and yours on his cock. And that’s how it is for the two of you from now on. Him spitting down your throat to make sure your mouth is wet enough for his cock, or sometimes spitting on his hands and pushing them past your lips so he could keep you quiet. Occasionally, you’ll ask him to hand you a cup of water but instead, he drinks it and raises an eyebrow for you to open your mouth. You do so without hesitation every time and it almost always ends with the two of you fucking like animals on the floor or against the wall. And one hundred percent of the time, the two of you have to go wash because there is spit and cum and sweat and your juices drenching the two of you.

Oberyn Martell - Touch and anything that involves fruits and drinks.

It’s intimidating in the beginning. Actually, the act itself is not intimidating. He is intimidating. Prince Oberyn is anything but shy and it takes you a while to realize that you shouldn’t be shameful around him. As a matter of fact, you notice that he will reward you if you treat him as a lover and not as your Prince. He teases you the first few times, telling you that there was no way you were the same person he’s heard so many poems about. You grow bolder with him and beg him to lay down as you walk across the room and take hold of the basket of fruits. Oberyn raises an eyebrow at your actions but says nothing, spreading himself out and whispering a quick ‘careful’ when he sees you bring a knife out from between your thighs. He watches as you expertly cut the large orange, and hisses when you begin to squeeze it on his nipples, down his chest, and finally on his cock. The nectar is cold but his eyes never leave you as you lean down and lick him dry, his hands going instantly into your hair when you gag on his cock. He cums down your throat not too long after that and pulls you towards his lips, shoving his tongue into your mouth and moaning when he tastes himself and the orange juice. And it becomes a habit after that. Sometimes he’s drenching you with sour liquids and massaging them across your muscles and other times, you’re licking them off of his warrior body. It comes to a point where he no longer enjoys fucking you unless there’s some sticky juices slipping between the two of you. He doesn’t care what it is. All he cares for is touching every inch of your skin with whatever viscous material you chose this time and it’s his happy day when you bring in honey and drip it all over yourself and him. It’s the filthiest it’s ever gotten between the two of you and you notice how he can’t keep his hands to himself anymore. He’s torn between fucking you into the next kingdom and kissing and touching your sweet soft skin. But he’s an intelligent man and he finds a way to do all of that simultaneously, bringing you closer to your pleasure much faster than before. Who knew honey and fruits would make the Prince of Dorne this unhinged.

Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales - Mile High Club. Enough said.

It’s something the two of you have briefly discussed but never actually had a chance to act upon. But then Pope approaches the two of you for a job that doesn’t sound too exciting even though it pays well. As soon as he mentions how they need Frankie to fly them to the drop point though, you’re both nodding furiously and telling him that you’re in, smiling to each other when he tells you he’ll send you the details before leaving. You’re not sure how it will work but you agree that you’d figure it out once you’re in the plane. It’s not until you’re in the air that you realize how quiet you have to be, with the guys sitting outside and talking through the plan. You’re thankful that Frankie manages to convince them that he needs you to co-pilot the aircraft with him since it’s been a while. Once you’re up in the air and it’s safe to put the plane on ‘auto-pilot’ you’re moving across the small space and kissing down Frankie’s neck. He’s still looking ahead to ensure that nothing surprising happens but it’s getting more difficult to pay attention when all he wants to do is commit every little nip and kiss and lick to memory. You’re shoving your hands down his pants immediately, knowing that one of the guys could come in any moment and you smile when Frankie moans and swears beneath his breath. You don’t tease him, kneeling down between his thighs and taking him in your mouth until his cock hits the back of your throat. He almost cums right then and there but tries his hardest to last a little longer, if only to enjoy this and feel the adrenaline kick in a little more. As soon as he looks down and watches spit corner at your lips, he’s groaning and moaning your name and you nip at the underside of his cock to shush him, telling him that you really didn’t want to give the other guys a show. He obeys your warning and tries to keep himself in check, torn between removing his hands from the controller to push you down on his cock further, and begging you to strip down and sit on his lap as he continues to pilot the plane. The former seems like a better option and he does tangle his fingers in your hair before pushing you down and savoring the sounds of your throat gagging on his cock. When he sees you touching yourself through your pants, he cums down your throat, so far down that you don’t even taste him when he finally pulls you off of him. You’re both panting and the windows have gotten a little fogged up and it smells like musk and sweat in here but you don’t find it in yourself to care as you stand up and wait for him to right himself before opening the door. You’re met with a couple of whistles and you can’t help but laugh at how flustered Frankie is when the guys continue to tease him. Oh well, it was worth it.

Comandante Veracruz - Exhibitionism.

It’s no secret that the Comandante loves to have his women screaming his name into the night. But when you’re assigned to him, he makes it his life’s mission to ensure that no man will come near you. He’s heard of how you like to play and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get you to start a little game with him. Not even a month in his camp and Veracruz has you writhing in his bed. He fucks you every chance he gets, and he tries to convince himself that it’s because he’s gotten bored with the other women. But he knows very well that it’s only because he’s gotten so fucking obsessed with you that he can’t stop himself. He doesn’t realize that you’ve stopped sleeping around as well and you don’t bother to mention it, mostly because you know it gives him a little edge when you fall into bed with him. He becomes a crazed man when you come to him in the night but then he sees you wrestling with one of his men and he loses his shit. He doesn’t care how pathetic it looks when he comes through the late night camp and drags you across so every one knows who you belong to. Your laughter only makes it worse and he isn’t able to make it into his tent, instead pushing you against one of the trees that’s too close to camp and ordering you to strip down. You do as you’re told and bite back from sobbing when he shoves his cock deep into your cunt. He doesn’t go slow, doesn’t wait for you to get used to him. He just fucks you and keeps fucking you until you’re screaming his name and telling everyone how well he fucks you. He’s whispering filthy things in your ears and you feel his cock grow impossibly harder when you tell him how good it feels and how much you love pleasuring him so everyone could know who makes him cum. It should be the other way around but he doesn’t care, continuing his assault and occasionally spanking your ass when you’re not loud enough for him. The camp grows quiet and he’s sure it’s because everyone can hear the two of you hate-fucking the shit out of each other. When he cums in your cunt, he doesn’t give you any reprieve, instead dragging you again the few steps into his tent and not bothering to tie it closed as he pushes you to your knees and forces you to gag on his cock. Anyone can walk and he’s sure that anyone can hear him calling you his filthy cocklut and you’re giving his ego a boost with all the noises you’re making and how much you’re begging him to take you out to the bonfire and fuck you in front of all those men so they know who owns this pussy. Perhaps one day he would do just that, but for now, he’s content with having you to himself. Well, except your screams that is.

Marcus Moreno - Age Play.

He’s not sure what to do anymore. All he knows is that he hears you telling Missy that she needs to get ready so ‘daddy’ isn’t late for work and he has to run to the bathroom before he embarrasses himself. After that little incident, he rarely leaves the two of you alone when he’s at home, always making sure that he’s around just to hear you say that godforsaken word again. He feels guilty for thinking of you that way and he tries to convince himself that he should stop because you’re his kid’s nanny and you probably already have someone closer to your age and it occurs to him that he is getting turned on because of the age gap and how sweet and innocent you look. He feels bad for avoiding you but he doesn’t know what else to do, afraid that he’d lose his control one day and pounce on you. But you’re cornering him one night and you’re asking if you’d done anything wrong and he says that everything’s fine and he’s just been tired but you don’t believe him. He’s about to tell you when Missy walks in crying and she’s telling you that she had nightmares and she wants to go Marcus but you kneel down and take her in your arms and tell her that daddy needs to rest too. Your eyes widen in horror at what you just said and you look up at Marcus only to find him clenching his jaw tightly and thank god the kid is already half asleep in your arms because as soon as your eyes trail down, you find a large tint in his pants and when you make eye contact again, you know. You know why he’s been avoiding you and you see him blushing because he knows that you know. Marcus thinks he’s screwed up and when you walk into his office after putting Missy to sleep again, he’s embarrassed and tripping over his words. But you’re not giving him a chance to say anything and you’re pushing on his chest until he’s sitting on the couch and you’re unbuckling his belt and it’s all happening so fast. Marcus feels his heart skip a beat when he sees you looking through your eyelashes and begging for him, for daddy, to cum down your throat. From then on, it’s hidden glances and soft touches and Marcus waits for you every night in his room, his eyes beaming with joy when you walk in and coo in his ears. He’s hard in an instant when he hears you call him ‘daddy’ and he switches between making love to you and fucking you into the next world every time he hears you whisper how much you enjoy it when he uses you and how much you love it when he calls you his ‘little girl,’ and how you’ve longed to hear him say that he owns your pussy because he’s your daddy and because no one else gets to fuck his sweet little angel. You tell him everything, of how long you’ve wanted him and how none of the boys at college can come close to the way he makes you feel and how much you wish you could stay in his bed forever because he makes you feel safe and he’s your daddy and he takes care of you. And it’s not long before Marcus realizes that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be a bad idea for Missy to have a little brother or sister.

Ezra - Cockwarming.

He’s shy when the two of you shift towards a more physical relationship, mostly because it’s been a while since he’d had anyone he could call his, especially someone as beautiful and kind as yourself. He’s not sure what he’s allowed to do at first but he quickly comes to the realization that you would let him do anything he wanted with you. He’s overwhelmed by your affections and how deep they run because they mirror his own. The idea comes to him one night when the two of you are back in his pod. Neither of you have the energy for anything but he really wants to feel you against him so he begs you to open up for him. You do, thinking he was going to take it slow and pleasure the both of you until you fall asleep in each other’s arms, but then he’s not moving at all, not one muscle, and you quickly realize that he just wants to be inside you and doesn’t care for moving or for doing anything. The thought makes you clench tightly around him and he hisses in your ears, begging you to relax so he doesn’t cum. Not yet. It slowly becomes a habit and more often than not, the two of you are relishing the feeling of being warm and in each other’s arms. His cock twitches inside you and makes your pussy soak him through, squeezing him tightly until he can’t take it anymore and he’s coming deep inside you. Neither of you move as he fills your cunt with his seed and he bucks his hips involuntarily before the two of you relax. You wake up in the middle of the night and he’s still inside you and you sigh when you feel him harden the more you flutter around him. It doesn’t take long for Ezra to pull you closer to him in his sleep and you shut your eyes to enjoy how full you feel before you let your mind relax until you’re softly snoring against him once more.

Maxwell Lord - Praise Kink.

You’re not sure if he’s being serious or not when he mentions it in passing, but you start to notice how he reacts to your words whenever the two of you are alone. He relaxes and leans into you the more you praise him and tell him how good he’s been for you and how lucky you are to have him. It gradually becomes a thing in bed as well except it’s his turn to whisper those sweet filthy words in your ears as he’s pulsating inside you and filling you up over and over again. You were never into this because of how embarrassing it sounds but you find yourself growing hotter and shaking with need the more he tells you that you’re his ‘good little sweetheart’ and that he doesn’t want anyone else but you because you’ve stuck with him through the tough times and now that he literally owns the world, he’ll bring you anything your heart desires. You’re telling him that he’s the only thing you desire because no one treats you so well or cares for you this much or thinks of you so often and Maxwell’s heart shatters because he’s never thought he could hear those words from anyone and he loses himself and takes you as many times during the night as he can because you’ve fallen into his lap and he can’t imagine a life without you and he grows harder in your cunt the more you tell him how good he makes you feel and how perfect he fits inside you and how full you are from his hard and fat cock and it brings him over the edge. So every time he bends you over his desk or pulls you to his lap, you’re both exchanging sweet words to each other because he’s never felt like he could bring the world to anyone but he can with you and you never thought you would every feel this satisfied by someone and you are.

Dave York - Con/Non-Con Play, and the knife/gun comes into play here. (this is dubious so please don’t read on if this makes you uncomfy)

You had some inclination as to what you were getting yourself into when you started working with Dave. He was your senior in the field and never once did you think of breaking his rules. But you do one day and his calm resolve shakes you to your core because his tone maybe patient but his eyes are swimming with anger and frustration. You listen to his orders and nod before going your separate ways. Something is off, however, when you go back to your hotel room and find it darker than you left it. You have about three seconds to react, but you’re three seconds too late and your training is about to kick in when the familiar musky cologne hits your nostrils. You know who it is immediately but his hold tightens around your throat and he’s biting into your neck to let you know who’s in control. You can feel him smile against your heated skin and you’re not sure what he wants but then his hand travels down and roughly grabs at your cunt through your jeans. You’re already a wet mess but Dave is full of surprises, and your eyes widen in horror when you feel a knife to your neck. He breaks for a single moment, asking you if this is what you want, and your brief nod makes him chuckle because he didn’t think he’d be able to get this far but you’re letting him take over. He pushes the knife harder against you and you’re whining and asking him to not hurt you. You took a wild guess at what he was silently asking from you and you’re right on the mark, no pun intended, when his grip tightens around you and he’s shoving you against the wall and ripping through your clothes. You’re begging him not to hurt you and it eggs him on. You don’t have time to think of a proper reaction as you feel the knife dig into your shoulder blades, bordering pain and pleasure. He’s telling you that he owns your body, your breaths, your noises, your arousal, and there’s nothing you could do about it. Because he can kill you with the simplest flick of his wrist. His cock twitches in his pants when you start crying and begging him to not take you but he’s already shoving his dick in your impossibly wet cunt and he can’t believe he found someone who’s tastes run as dark as his. You’re sobbing at how good it feels and how shameless he is with his touches and you’re losing yourself to the pleasure. But right before you fall over the edge, you hear the sound of a gun clicking back and your eyes instantly widen at the sudden shift in the air. You turn around just in time to see Dave hold the gun to your throat while the knife is between his teeth. He’s looking dangerously at you and you realize he must have really had it with you today because he’s pulling out all the stops with you. One glance and you know the safety is off and at the realization of how far he’s willing to take this, you’re coming hard on his cock, soaking him and the your clothes and the ground. He continues to fuck you through it, not caring about the mess the two of you are making. When you lean down and start begging him to not cum in you because it’s not safe, his pace picks up and he shoves the gun in your mouth. One look at how wrecked and sweaty he is and you’re clenching tightly around him. He growls his release when he sees mascara running down your cheeks and he shoves the gun deeper in your throat until you’re gagging on it. He stops and pulls out just to watch his cum rolling down your thighs and he can’t hold back from pushing the handle of his knife in your cunt so you wouldn’t lose any more of his cum. You’re panting and shaking against him and he brings you to your bed and strips you down until you’re naked beneath him. He takes his clothes off as well and pushes himself against your back, telling you to get some rest because he as nowhere near done with you yet, making sure his tone conveys that you may have little choice in what he has in mind for you.

Marcus Pike - Somnophilia.

His hours are hellish, he knows that, but that doesn’t stop Marcus from wanting to sink into your sweet, wet cunt as soon as he gets home. He’s happy that you text him and tell him that you’d wait up for him but when he walks into the bedroom and sees the television playing while you’re fast asleep, he can’t bring himself to wake you up. So he shuts off the television and walks into the bathroom, taking himself in his hand and pretending it was your nimble fingers bringing him pleasure. And before he knows it, he’s coming hard on and makes a mess of himself. Not thinking much of it, he throws his shirt in the laundry and cleans up before slipping between the sheets and bringing you closer to him. It takes him a few moments to allow his heart to rest because you’re so beautiful and warm against him and he feels his cock twitch at the thought of you bringing him pleasure even in your sleep but he brushes the thought aside just as quickly as it comes because he would never do that to you. It’s a surprise when you’re doing laundry the next day and see proof of what he’d done and you feel a little guilty but also, you’re not sure why he didn’t wake you up. So you make sure to wait up for him and confront him, guilt eating you alive when he tells you that he didn’t want to disrupt your sleep because it wasn’t that important. But then you’re asking him why he doesn’t just have you while you’re asleep and you think you’ve gone too far because of the look on his face. But Marcus gulps and asks if you’d really be okay with that or not because the thought of him fucking you in your sleep is making him hard and ready. You feel your panties dampen just from thinking about it and you’re pushing him down on the bed and fucking him and telling him he could do anything he wanted to do with you and you wouldn’t mind. He cums with your name on his lips and you fall asleep immediately. He doesn’t think he’ll want to do it this soon but when he comes home the next day and you’re asleep, he thinks about it but decides not to. But then he sees what you wore to bed and he swears you did this on purpose. Before he thinks about it, he’s pushing your thighs open and licking at your cunt like a starved man, groping and cupping your breasts through the flimsy material of the lingerie and you’re moaning in your sleep but you’re not awake yet. He takes his pants off immediately and feels you clench around him as soon as he sheathes himself inside you. He thinks he’s died and went to heaven because he’s barely touched you and you’ve cum around his cock and he’s fucking you slow and deep, and you’re moaning in your sleep. He’s sweating from how much he’s holding back and he cant’ take his eyes off of your heavy chest and how willing you are. You’re at his mercy and the thought almost brings him over the edge but he holds back and continues to thrust into you until he feels like he’s going to lose his soul. He’s coming in your cunt but he doesn’t stop until there’s nothing left in him and he goes to sleep without cleaning you up because he’s probably going to wake up in the middle of the night and fuck you again and he wants to push in you easily when he does and just use his cum as lube. And he does, two more times. And still refuses to clean you up because he really wants to watch you wake up in the morning and feel your mixed cum between your thighs and know that he used you for his own pleasure...

Max Phillips - Biting and Bloodplay (don’t read if this makes you uncomfy)

It’s a little jarring when you find out the truth about Max. You think it’s a dream at first because there’s no way vampires exist, it’s just not the world that you live in. You’re a bit afraid in the beginning because you know how he gets sometimes but he’s been nothing but patient with you thus far. When he invites you for dinner at his place one night, you can’t help but joke about being his meal and it’s awkward for a few moments but he laughs along and promises you he doesn’t bite...yet. One thing leads to another and the next thing you know, you’re staying over his place almost every night. Curiosity gets the best of you and you ask him what it feels like to sink his teeth into someone’s skin and he’s reluctant to respond because he doesn’t want to give himself away. He doesn’t want to tell you how he dreams of biting your neck and your thighs and anywhere he could reach almost every night. But he doesn’t have to because you're moving closer to him and you’re whispering reassurances in his ears and you’re telling him that you trust him and it’s all he needs to hear before the thread snaps. He’s on you like dew on leaves and you’re baring your neck for him and he nips at your jaw before moving to your neck and your shoulder, leaving love bites anywhere he could reach because he can finally mark you as his. He can feel blood rushing through your arteries and he looks at you with need, a silent question swimming in his eyes and you sink your nails into his shoulder when you nod and he immediately digs his sharp fangs into your skin. You’re so glad you started this conversation because it feels like nothing you’ve ever experienced. There’s pain shooting through your neck from how deep his fangs sank into your skin but there’s so much more pleasure coursing through your veins and there’s something erotic about hearing him sucking and slurping and gulping down your blood. He sits up for a second and you’re met with the scariest yet prettiest sight in the world and Max knows he should stop but he can’t and he turns your head to the other side and breaks the skin at the top of your breasts before he starts sucking again and it’s filthy but erotic all at once. He laps harshly at the puncture wounds before he wraps his lips around your nipples and bites a little harder than he intended. You have no time to react as he descends down your body and pushes your thighs open before he’s biting into the meat of your thighs and you’re shaking with need. As soon as he shoves two fingers into your cunt, you’re drenching his arms and coming violently around him, and Max forces himself to pull off of you just to watch you come undone at his touches. He leans down and licks across your cunt, his cock twitching in his pants when the taste of your arousal and your blood mix on his tongue and he realizes, then and there, that you’re it for him. He looks down at your blissed-out expression and he’s proud of how wrecked your look, even more so because he sees his marks everywhere on your skin, from your neck and shoulder to your breasts and your thighs. And fuck if this isn’t the prettiest sight in the whole wide world. And you’re all his.

#pedro pascal #headcanon #kinks headcanon #kink headcanon #the mandalorian #din djarin #agent whiskey #jack daniels #Javier Peña #Pero Tovar #oberyn martell #frankie 'catfish' morales #comandante veracruz #marcus moreno #ezra #maxwell lord #dave york #marcus pike #max phillips #smut #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal smut

[smokahuntis]

The girl with no name

Pairing : Javier peña x reader

Warnings: mentions of sex, light smut (not with reader), voyeurism, fluff.

Summery: he didn’t know her name, he didn’t care really. She was his neighbor, she made sure he was taken care of, and he in return gave her what she wanted.

Author note; this is unlike anything I’ve ever written, I hope you enjoy it, I wrote this at 5 am and it’s pretty short too, part 2 is linked

The girl with a name

For months now she’s watched him, watched him tear himself apart threw the window in his living room. She’d watch him take women from his couch and devour them like they were his last meal. There would be nights he would see her watching and completely forget to look at the girl under him, only focusing on her across the street.

Just like now, he was railing on of his usuals into his couch, holding the back of her head up as he watched her unravel underneath his touch. He seemed different tonight, more driven, more aggressive. She hadn’t seen him like this in a long time. She didn’t even know his name, but she knew how he acted, what he liked to eat. She knew he was American, despite his looks, she could tell. She’s dropped food off at his apartment door occasionally when she knew he was stressed, so he didn’t have to worry about cooking. If she made sweets she’d make sure he got some, he knew it was her but he was always to busy to say anything to her. But he was also scared that if he did she would stop.

He enjoyed everything she gave him, every meal, every sweet. Sometimes she’s would even send lemonade or tea in a pitcher that he dropped off at her door step when it was empty. It was like a game. I’m return he paid the embassy cleaning lady to clean her apartment to, it usually didn’t need it but it was something. But it was nothing like her main reward for kindness. He knew she liked to watch him.

He knew she liked watching him take women in his living room, that’s why he always did it there. Very seldom did he take girls to his bedroom, she couldn’t see him there. She couldn’t watch his face as he came or enjoy herself from the sight in front of her. So he staid in the living room, with his curtains open and a grin on his face.

Like now, as he looked up, seeing her across the street looking out her window over the top of her novella. Nothing got him more excited then knowing she was watching him. It was like a cuckold he didn’t know he wanted.

He locked his eyes with her and smirked as he got rougher with the girl under him, drilling into her G-spot over and over again as he groaned. The girl didn’t mean anything to him right now other then something to stick his cock in. But as he watched (y/n) from across the street he couldn’t help but picture it was her body he was tearing open. He couldn’t help but wish he had the balls to walk over there and kiss her and make her his. Why didn’t he?

Because she was good. Because she was caring, and kind. She was innocent in a way he didn’t want to corrupt. He couldn’t drag her into his life, not like one of these girls or like Connie. This wasn’t the life he wanted to share with her. No, he’s take her far away from this, from Colombia. If she was his he’d take her home, to Texas. Stay in his fathers old house and grow old there, with the girl who’s name he didn’t know.

“Fuck- “ he groaned as he broke eye contact and looked down at the girl under him as she squeezed his cock and came around him, causing him to cum as well, filling her up. laying his head on her shoulder as he relaxed for a moment. He sighed and calmed down with the girl and slowly slipped out, reaching for a cigarette as the escort got dressed “the moneys on the counter” he said quietly as he laid back and took in the smoke.

The girl didn’t say much and what she did say he didn’t catch as she walked out and left. He watched her leave only for a moment before he got up and looked out his window to try and find his neighbor sitting there.

She was already gone, making him lean back into the couch and rub his forehead. Why was this so hard for him, she was just a girl. Why did it tear him up that he didn’t know her name, or she didn’t know his.

He wanted the girl with no name.

Tag list: @thinemineours @morgannope @thisis-theway @onabouteverything @blxwjobsforclones @a-dorin @everythinggeeky @reidocognito

I am thinking of a part 2 for this but I’m not sure, just let me know, this was just a quick little drabble

#javier peña #Javier peña x reader #Javier peña smut #Javier #narcos #pedro pascal smut #Pedro pascal x reader

[iwritethingslol]

So Please Don’t Take My Sunshine Away {A}

GIF by @cptnbvcks

Warnings: angst. just pure angst with the tiniest sprinkle of smut.

I can never find much angst for Javier Peña. so I decided to try and make this fic as angsty as I could, I honestly feel like this is flat and very OC bc I was tipsy typing this out but enjoy? sorry in advance!

(please don’t plagiarize my work. I spend a lot of time to perfectly execute my ideas for any sort of work that I put out on this app.)

not edited.

-

You laid on your bed, staring up towards the ceiling lit by the street lights. It leaves the room in an orange tint as tears stream down your face, your chest aches but you can't seem to show it. You keep your expression neutral even if you're alone in your apartment.

The plate of food stares at you from across the table, getting colder as the hours pass by but you've began to not care.

"Cariño, i'm so sorry," Javier apologizes as he places a kiss on your cheek and sits down next to you, "I had a thing at work and I couldn't leave not when we're so close."

You understood Javier's job and the reputation he got from what he did for that job but he promised... he promised you a week before that he solidified the plans for tonight. He was just such a busy guy so you thought nothing of it.

You push a smile onto your face, "it's fine, Javi," you assure and cuddle into him, "I left the food in the microwave if you're hungry."

That night is spent with Javier's head between your legs as he praises you.

"Javi..." you whimper as you run your hands through his messy hair causing him to moan as he runs his tongue up your folds and to the place you need him the most, "please amor.."

Javier groans at the sound of you saying your nickname for him as you begin to get closer and closer to that sweet release, "are you close, angel?" He hums as you nod until you feel Javier's fingers fill you up so sweetly, "I can't hear you, mi sol."

"Yes, God, yes!" You tighten your hold onto his hair when he places his mouth back over the bundle of nerves making you gasp as you reach your high.

More tears run down your face as you hate yourself for not seeing the signs more clearly, for being so oblivious to what's right in front of you.

Javier comes back late for the 5th time in a row but you aren't awake to realize it. You wake up to being lifted off the couch, the tv turned off.

An unfamiliar sweet smell hits your nose, "I'm sorry, cariño," Javier mumbles as he places a kiss onto your head and carries you towards the bedroom, "I didn't plan on working this late."

You hum as your hooden gaze focuses up to your boyfriend while you try to stay awake to ask him about the fruity smell, "bebé.." you mumble out as you push to stay awake but you close your eyes and lean against Javier.

"Brillo solar, wake up," You hear and snap awake to find yourself in Javier's room and you try to move your head away from his shoulder as he gently places you on the bed in a sitting position, "I'm gonna change your clothes, baby, you’ll be uncomfortable if you sleep in your clothes."

You just nod and allow Javier to slowly begin to undress you and opt out for one of his shirts before he lays down, Javier undressed as he crawls to you, "goodnight amor.." You whisper but you don't get to hear his reply.

Rapid knocks sound out within your quiet apartment and you let out a shaky breath knowing exactly who it is but as soon as they say your name, the air is sucked out of your lungs, "baby, please open the door," Javier begs with a loud shaky voice, "mi sol, please..."

His words alone making you cover your mouth to quiet the sob but you lay there begging that he goes away until it goes quiet.

You lay there for a few more minutes as the sounds from outside bring you back to the present, you can't help but wonder if Javier actually left but before you can rationalize the idea, you find yourself standing from your bed.

The thoughts running through your brain, calling you 'stupid' for even thinking someone like Javier would wait outside your door.

Until you're faced with the very sight of him leaning against the railing in front of your door with his bloodshot eyes staring back at yours in shock. His whole body language displays the complete opposite of the Javier Peña that you've become so familiar with.

"Brillo solar.."

You figured Javier won't come over tonight once you saw that it's almost midnight and decided to head over to his place to spend the night at his place.

Though the idea of missing Javier so much that you decided on heading to his place made you feel insecure and wondered if he might get annoyed at how needy you've become without him.

You slammed the door to your vehicle and began to make your way into the apartment building knowing he won't be there but that didn't worry you. As you climb the stairs the familiar sound of your boyfriend made you look up but once you saw him talking to a woman, you froze and held your breath as you watched them speak.

"Thanks for coming over tonight," Javier's tone makes your breath hitch as the woman smiles up at him before placing a hand on his arm.

A small whimper leaves your lips which snap Javier's eyes towards you and instantly Javier straightens up, "cariño, I-" you don't stick around to hear what he has to say as you rush back down the stairs only to shove the door open.

You hear Javier yell out your name as your chest tightens. You try to unlock it only hearing him come out makes you finally unlock the door and climb in before slamming it shut, locking it.

Javier yells out your name another time as he reaches your vehicle only to come to the conclusion that you locked the door making him tap the window, "baby! mi sol... open up please," Javier rushes out as you start your car, "let me explain!" he begs when you look up at him with tears in your eyes making his breathing falters.

The sight of you infront of him alone makes his chest constrict that he brought on that look.... an expression he never wished to see on a beautiful face like yours.

The look he never wanted his brillo solar to have.

You pull out of the parking lot and begin to drive off, leaving Javier Peña standing there with a heavy heart and tears falling down his sun-kissed face.

The memory alone both destroys you and fuels anger withing your heart, "you need to leave, Javier," you demand with a snap making Javier visibly flinch at the use of his full name, not the 'amor' you’ve always called him, not even the usual 'Javi' that was given to him by others.

Javier only mutters your name in the dead silent hallway before your body wills you to speak, "it's over, Javier, i'm done," you states once more as Javier stands to his feet and tries to plead with you, "I give up on trying to keep this relationship... I give up alright? So, please just leave me the hell alone."

You slam the door in the face of a man you once believed loved you as much as much as you loved him.

Giving up on trying to fix what's already so broken... leaving Javier standing and begging to those above that they don't take his sunshine away.

"No puedo esperar hasta casarme contigo, mi sol," Javier whispers as he kisses your head unaware that you have already fell back to sleep in his arms that night.

-

translation:

cariño - sweetheart

mi sol - my sunshine

brillo solar - sunshine

bebé - baby

amor - love

No puedo esperar hasta casarme contigo, mi sol - I can’t wait to marry you, my sunshine

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier pena #javier pena x reader #narcos imagine #pedro pascal #javier peña imagine #javier pena imagine

[xwing-baby]

Impulse: Aftermath (Javier Peña x Reader)

Summary: Top of your class, the DEA have sent you to Colombia to be the poster child for their new ‘placement program’. You’re thrown in at the deep end into the drug war. The worst as happened, your dead. What have you left behind?

Warnings: ANGST! depressive thinking/intrusive thoughts, swearing, discrimination towards addicts, mentions of drug abuse, javi and steve have terrible coping mechanisms.

Word count: 2k (short and sweet)

A/n: So I felt bad about how I left it last chapter, maybe this will heal it? Maybe it will make it worse. Either way, enjoy! 

Part 1 // Part 2 

[1 MONTH AFTER]

 The following weeks after your death was harrowing for everyone involved. Connie was beside herself and flew herself home for a week as she couldn’t stand seeing your empty apartment every day. Without his wife, Steve was falling apart at the seams. He was angrier, drinking more and his relationship with Javier was hanging on threads. Even when Connie returned he was unhinged. Javier was a mess, more than he would openly admit, it was obvious to everyone around him. He tried to find solace in alcohol and women but it didn’t work. Guilt surrounded him like a bad smell that he couldn’t shake. Together, Javi and Steve were reckless and ruthless.

The question of who killed you was still a mystery. The getaway vehicle had been found in Bogata a few days after the shooting, ablaze. Javi and Steve had waited for somebody to claim the killing but no one ever did. Cali and Escobar, even Los Pepes never said a word. Javier had tried to find your CI but they’d disappeared too. 

As with any death of an agent in the field, the DEA intended to investigate your death. Today was the day that Javier was to hear the verdict. He was anxious, he knew they needed help if they were ever going to catch your killer and this could be the final push needed to topple Escobar’s power. 

Alone, Javier drove to the embassy dressed in a nice suit and tie. He was hopeful, almost excited. If this meeting went the way he was expecting you would get the vengeance you deserved and this hell could be over. 

He entered the meeting room confidently but almost immediately stumbled when only one man stood in the room. Ambassador Crosby stood at the top of the large table, he greeted Javier politely when he arrived and offered him a chair opposite. Confused, Javier sat down.

“I’m going to cut the crap with you, Peña. We are not investigating Agent L/n’s death,” The Ambassador said bluntly. Javier’s stomach twisted, “I’ve been talking with everybody that needs to be involved and we all agree. She admitted her drug use to me, her death was entirely so a result of her ‘extracurricular activities’. I see no reason to use any more of the agency's funds on a rookie who went off the rails,” The Ambassador lit a cigarette nonchalantly as if he hadn’t just dealt Javier a nearly fatal blow. Javier had never imagined that to even be a possibility. He was in shock.

“You’re joking,” Javier deadpanned. 

“I understand you’re upset, Peña, I do. She was a sweet girl, and from what I gather from Agent Murphy’s report you two were very close, but I see no reason to investigate further. She wasn’t a qualified agent we hold no loyalty to our usual promises,” 

“She deserves-,” Javier started, rage quickly boiling inside him.

“She doesn’t deserve anything,” He interrupted Javier sharply, “She was an addict. You should count yourself lucky I don’t have you fired. You knew she was breaking her contract and you said nothing,” 

“She was doing her job. She was a great agent and this never should have fucking happened. She deserves everything Camarera got and more!” Javier exclaimed. 

“You’re right it shouldn’t have happened. You were her mentor, you were supposed to be protecting her from exactly that kind of shit. She was never meant to leave your fucking side, what in the hell possessed you to think she could have a CI?” 

“She was a good agent,” Javier repeated, trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

“She was a kid,” The ambassador corrected him. Javier hung his head in defeat, “Get out, expect a call from DC too,” 

As if this waking nightmare you had left behind you could get any worse, now this. It was another blow to Javier's ego that he did not need. Without help from the agency, there would be no way to investigate your death and no way for any substantial closure for Javier or Steve. You would become just another name on the list of unfortunate souls lost to this drug war. They had dismissed you as if you were nobody. They had cleaned their hands of your blood without a second thought. That was not a luxury that Javier had. 

Javier was exhausted. The news felt like the final blow that had finally landed him on his ass. But he knew had one last thing to do before he could sleep, he had to tell Steve the news. Javier let himself into Connie and Steve’s apartment, the two were eating dinner together quietly. Without a word, he sat down at the table, and Connie passed the man a beer, which he took and swallowed down gladly.

“So? What did they say?” Steve asked, his mouth full of food.

“They said they wouldn’t investigate further because of everything that she was doing,” He replied after a moment 

“Shit,” Connie sighed, taking a big sip of wine. Steve looked between his wife and his friend, put his cutlery down and frowned.

“What do you mean everything she was doing?” Steve asked, “She was working with us, she wasn’t doing anything wrong,”

“She was doing coke, a lot of it,” Javier said bluntly, finding no other way to soften what had happened, “Guess she got it from her CI, I don’t know but she tried to fix it with the ambassador before she died and now they won’t investigate,”

“What?” Steve laughed in disbelief. Javier’s frown didn’t break, He turned to his wife expecting her to be just as shocked. She wasn’t at all. She knew, “How come you know about this and I don’t?” Steve exclaimed.

“She showed up on the street after Javi caught her at the embassy and I took care of her, made sure she was okay. She told me everything,” Connie explained.

“At the embassy?” Steve repeated, not believing a word he was hearing. He knew something was up with you but he hadn’t imagined it could be that bad, “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I thought you knew and just didn’t want to talk about it!” Connie exclaimed, “I thought you guys would have taken a bit more care with your teammate!”

“Hey don’t put it back at me!” Javi scowled at the woman.

“That's why you were so mad that day? Because you caught her with cocaine?” Steve asked, his volume increasing with each question, “Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“I didn’t think it was any of your business,”

“Any of my- You’re fucking unbelievable Javi,” Steve scoffed, “Been here how long and you still don’t trust me?”

“I trusted her enough to sort it out herself. You would have freaked her out!” Javier said honestly.

“Look at all the good that did, huh? You got her killed! May as well have shot her yourself!” The words hit Javier like a slap in the face. Shocked, Javi couldn’t speak.

“Steve!” Connie exclaimed.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” Steve spat, stepping up to Javi. Javi quickly backed off, glaring at his partner and leaving, slamming the door for good measure.

In the hallway, Steve and Connie’s argument could still be heard. Javier’s anger was stopped by the sight of your door across the hallway. Someone else had moved in already. The door had been repainted, the chipped blue paint replaced with a glossy green, the number had been straightened and the smiley face sticker you put on had been peeled off. The world was moving on. You were just a passing character, never meant to stay long. You would have left eventually even if you hadn’t died. You were never meant to be permanent. Javi hoped the pain you had left him would be just as temporary but it was likely scars would remain.

He couldn’t repaint over memories of you. The scuff marks on his dashboard from your shoes would remain. The chipped mug you had claimed as yours would still sit on his draining board. Shaky polaroid photos he had kept from blurry nights in bars and a cartoon you had drawn of him and Steve on the back of an invoice all sat in the drawer of his nightstand. Those things would last. Part of him wanted to get rid of it all, burn it to remove you entirely from his life and pretend like it was all some horrible, strange dream. But he wouldn’t. You may have been temporary but your impact on him was permanent.

--

The next day Javier kept well away from Steve. He knew he would still be resentful, rightfully so, and he knew him well enough to know to just give him some space. They could get on with things separately until it blew over.

The news that the DEA would not be making a full investigation into your death had spread quickly and calmed tensions around the compound and in the embassy immensely. The Columbians didn’t want more American’s down here if it could be helped, everyone remembered the brutality of Camerana’s investigation and if a repetition of such events could be avoided it was a win for everyone.

Midday came and Javi took a break from hunting through seemingly endless transcriptions of taped conversations to sit outside in the sun. Guilt was piling up again with Steve against him too, he only felt worse. He couldn’t concentrate. Between his thoughts and the constant interruption of people trying to be sympathetic, Javi had had enough. He wanted to be alone.  A few minutes in the sunshine with a cigarette and birdsong would clear his head and he could be useful again.

Javier sat in the courtyard, looking out onto the training grounds and watched the recruits struggle under their training officers barking orders. He took off his jacket, letting his skin take in the early summer rays. On the way to being relaxed, Javier felt content. He didn’t think of you or Steve or anything other than the way the rays heated his skin and how the grass felt under his palm.

“Mind if I join?” Steve interrupted Javier’s moment. He too needed a quiet moment and while he was not completely over his friend’s concealment of the truth he didn’t want to struggle through the new emotions without him. Javier shrugged and moved his jacket to let his friend sit next to him. “Nice day,” He commented, not sure what to say. They hadn’t spoken at all since last night, avoiding each other like the plague. Javi grunted in response, taking a drag of his cigarette again.

The tension between the two men settled, they needed each other to get through this, even if they wouldn’t admit it out loud.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you man,” Javier finally spoke, breaking the silence. Steve was relieved he didn’t have to be the one to apologise first.

“It all happened kind of fast, I get it,” Steve replied, “She always was so efficient with things,” He chuckled. It was dark but the joke broke Javier’s frown.

“Bet Carrillo’s glad he doesn’t have her nagging at him all the time now,” Javi added. Steve chuckled and nodded in agreement.

“It’s going to be nice without their constant bitchin’,'' Steve smiled, he paused for a moment. “It’s gonna be quiet,” he added sadly.

The two fell silent again. He was right, everything was going to be quieter without you. Whether it was shouting at Carrillo for being an asshole, or singing along to the radio loudly while you're full of adrenaline after a chase, or even just your constant tapping and fidgeting. Life was going to be quieter without you.

“Ey! Peña! Murphy! Vamos, we’re going!” Carrillo’s voice called them back to reality.

The war wasn’t stopping for anyone, your death was just one of the thousands that had already been claimed by it. They would miss you, but both men knew they couldn’t let your short time with them hold them back. They would always carry you with them and their final win, when Escobar was dead, would be yours too.

NEXT PART

--

did that make it worse? did that make it better? 

want to get tagged in the next part? let me know

tag list:  @beskar-tano @buckysbeloved @beskarbabs @all-hallows-evie @harrys-stan @this-cat-is-dea @themidnightsun-12 @wille-zarr @danniburgh​ @itsaisopodkillmepls​ @urbankaite2​ @whataloadofmalarkey​ @ahsofka @yeetus-my-feetus​ @sara-alonso​ @lesbianlena​ @xiao-lusi​ @all-good-things-have-an-ending​ 

#javier pena x reader #javi x reader #javier pena #steve murphy x reader #narcos x reader #javi angst #javier pena angst #javi #steve #x reader angst #narcos fanfic #narcos angst #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #angst #fluff #javi x reader angst #javi x reader smut #pedro character fic #steve murphy x reader angst #steve murphy angst #molly writes #narcos fic #netflix narcos #tw: addiction #tw: depression

[lightsinthedistancee]

Smoke, Alcohol, and Sex : Javier Peña x Reader (Part 2)

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Words: 1.3k

Summary: “You find someone less difficult to fuck your issues away with? Someone less difficult than me?”

Javi and Reader find themselves further on edge with each other.

Warnings: Profanity

A/N: Read part one here. Masterlist for this multi-part fic here.

The cold air streams through your hair as your eyes dart over the dark streets. You don’t know how long you’ve been out there, on the balcony, your knees drawn to your chest, your eyes drooping but refusing to shut.

The image of Javier storming out of the apartment is etched into your memory, a scar that you know will remain forever.

Who am I to you?

Nothing.

That’s what you imagine his response to be.

A single word that holds enough pain to shatter you. It doesn’t need to be verbalized to do so.

Gunshots sound off in the distance, barely making you flinch. They are part of the city now, no more fear-inducing than the sounds of tires skidding or the soft buzz of streetlights.

You’d left your home for this, you remind yourself. This is what you wanted. But now, all of a sudden, you’ve never wanted to be further away. Never wanted to be further away from Medellín, from Colombia, from South America.

Even now, a small part you imagines where he could be. In a bed, another woman’s hips pressed to him, another woman’s name on his lips, drowning the pain you’d inflicted on him.

You’d spent your whole life telling yourself that you were an independent woman, that you need no one but yourself, but you know for a fact that you do need something in this strange country with dark streets and criminals and enough violence for a lifetime—you need Javier.

You need to feel his fingertips on you, feel his breath on your skin. A shame washes over you. You can almost see yourself—a lone figure curled up on a dark balcony, pathetically yearning for her lover. Limbs tangled, in a ball trying to isolate herself from every negative feeling she is experiencing.

The wind whistles once more as you shiver, pressing your cheek against the cold metal of one of the railings, willingly letting the uncomfortably cool shock rip through you. It’s a welcome distraction.

The sound of the door to the apartment clicking open sounds faintly in the distance. Four thuds—keys, wallet, badge, and gun. You don’t even budge.

A dread finds home in the air as you feel Javier’s atmosphere once again. It’s less angry now, more weary.

His footsteps echo off the walls, fairly heavy, blunt in their sound, and so vividly and distinctly him. He’s standing behind you, his eyes on you. You can feel it.

“What are you doing out here?” he asks quietly. “It’s freezing.”

You throw him a quick glance before resuming your position, concealing your face from him. Something about all of it—the sound of his voice, the demeanor he is emitting, the position he’s in—makes your eyes flutter, makes a heat rise to the back of your eyes.

Maybe it’s the impending sense that this will be among the last time you hear him in such an intimate setting, maybe because you’re waiting for him to anger in a way he rarely does.

“It’s freezing ‘cause you’re not wearing a jacket,” you simply respond, for it’s the only thing you can utter without breaking down into full tears.

The sound of fabric against fabric quietly floats through the air as he shifts. “No, it’s freezing because it’s freezing.”

You say nothing, only let out a soft breath.

“I’m sorry,” he says. That’s all that will come from him. At least, for now. He’s a man of few words, and you don’t expect him to change that in the moment.

A droplet slips past your lower lashes, rolling down your cheek, down your knee, where your head is still resting.

Javier huffs in annoyance. “Can you at least come back inside?”

Still nothing.

“Por favor, cariño.” Please, sweetheart.

“No me llames así,” you reply immediately, your voice wavering, a bitterness blatantly making itself known. Don’t call me that.

“Bueno. Lo que sea. Ahora vuelve adentro.” Fine. Whatever. Come back inside.

You still don’t budge. He’s really annoyed now. Perhaps a small part of you is attempting to get a rise out of him, to make him feel the pain you’re feeling.

He crouches to the ground beside you, his arms snaking under your legs, under your back. Your body loses contact with the ground as he stands, and you lack the conviction to even verbally resist. He simply shuts the balcony door behind the two of you, gently setting you on the bed.

“No seas dificil,” he tells you, turning off the lights. If you were to look at him, you would know that he is also avoiding your gaze. Don’t be difficult.

“Fuck you,” you says softly, your voice more broken than angry. “Fuck. You.”

He sighs. His side of the bed shifts downwards as he lies down beside you. “Get some rest. We’re going to talk about this in the morning.”

You’re already certain that talking is the very last thing you wish to do.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

“Where’d you go last night?” That is the only simple question you ask as the two of you get dressed and ready for work in silence the next morning.

It was evident that neither you nor he had slept well.

“Why the hell do you care?” he rebuffed, rummaging through the drawers for a shirt.

“Did you find someone less difficult?” Your tone is bitter, biting to an edge as the frustration returns, the frustration of being told that you were so, as if you were a child.

He pauses, the slightest flicker of realization on his face. “Don’t be an idiot.”

You scoff, laughing softly, a subtle malice behind it that you can’t hide. “Don’t call me an idiot.”

He says nothing in response. You shimmy on your own shirt over your head as your eyes roam over the city outside the window as they had the night before.

“So what’s the answer, Javi?” you ask.

“What’s the answer to what?”

“You find someone less difficult to fuck your issues away with? Someone less difficult than me?”

You jump slightly as a loud noise sounds out, the sound of a palm on the dresser, just loud enough to be classified as volatile. You spin around to look at him, where he’s now leaning against the wall, his forehead in his hands, rubbing his face in exhaustion.

Moments of terse silence pass as you simply stare at him, as he finally seems to come to a conclusion on what he’s going to say. He looks you dead in the eye, and little do you know that what’s about to leave his mouth will have the potential to be the final driving wall between the two of you.

“I don’t ever recall you trying to stop me.”

You freeze. Your arms freeze, your gaze freezes, your breath freezes.

He’s frozen too, looking at you as if waiting for you to make the next move in the ruthless battle that had begun.

And slowly, you put one foot in front of the other, shaking with rage. A step, another. You stop before him, not even bothered that the top of your head barely comes up to his eyes. Air leaves your lips in shaky spurts.

You know what you want to do. You want to scream, you want to lash out. You want to spit in his face, you want to slap him, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted to do the same.

But you don’t.

And he doesn’t.

There is still an ounce of civility, a modicum of respect, integrity, and self-control that keeps the both of you still.

He is the one who breaks it.

“There’s no fucking time for this,” he grumbles. “We’ve got to go to work.”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Taglist (also tagging a few people who reblogged part 1): @layniapetrovnaaa @bonktime @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @hylliamoon @notanotherfangirl (lmk if you’d rather not be tagged for part 3!)

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged on part 3 (the last part) or any of my other stuff. Thanks for reading!

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #narcos fanfiction #narcos #javier peña fanfiction

[sirtadcooper]

🎨 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Astrid, Astrid, Astrid, what am I going to do? Sort through your consistently perfect gifs? Pick favourites? You have truly set me a great challenge.

Usually I will go through a person’s whole edits tag but I have sorted these into Narcos and The Mandalorian because I was just looking to see how much you had made and accidentally saw a major spoiler for The Mentalist which I am only on season 2 of. I’m looking forward to [redacted] happening, though, because I was starting to ship them a few episodes in! Anyway, onwards with my impossible task.

Narcos

So before I start on this list I want to say that your colouring? It’s perfect every single time. Seriously. Fair warning: I’m going to be saying “perfect” a lot.

Javier Peña + that thing he does with his right hand - A great compilation! I never noticed this little detail so this gifset was a real (pleasant) surprise. I was checking the notes just to see what the general consensus was and I like the he-wants-a-cigarette theory. Just excellent acting from Pedro what a very keen eye you have! Or maybe you just spend a lot of time fixating on Javi’s hands...

Javi being snarky - Gosh, I love this one! Javi’s sense of humour got me though Narcos, although I think only one or possibly two of these gifs is from season 3? The way the life drains out of him over the course of the series just breaks my effing heart, baby. By the end of the three seasons I was pretty cross with the guys in episode one for calling him an asshole, but maybe I can see their point now, haha! But I still love him. I will protec.

1.05 There Will Be a Future | 3.01 The Kingpin Strategy - It was a great choice to jump from one scene to the other like this. Really adds to the heartbreak. It makes the contrast between his life now (sharing stories in the cool dark) and what it could have been (warmth and light and checked shirts) all the more vivid. The way he looks back at her in the last gif? Ouch.

Narcos, “The Palace in Flames” (2015) | We Can Be Heroes (2020) - A parallel I love and respect, thanks for making such good gifs of it. Shout-out to @keanurevees for being the single funniest person on this planet.

“Jungle Rescue Javi” in Convivir - Listen Jungle Rescue Javi can come and rescue me anytime. You’ve done a great job of colouring so many scenes with different lighting conditions and still have that green shirt look like a green shirt. Like it’s the same hue in each one. How did you do that? That’s pretty neat.

We’ve all gone off the rails down here, Javi. - This scene! I’m not okay! I love the colouring work you have done here. It’s just so perfect, so nice to look at. The whole set has this earthy colour palette and I mean, even Javi isn’t wearing a colourful shirt for once. This is serious.

Javi wearing a leather jacket - These gifs are so HQ I could practically reach out and touch his jacket, you can just feel the textures... with-with your eyes...? You’ve picked shots that all work together as a set, nothing stands out for the wrong reasons. No wide shots, no super close-ups, nothing to throw us off of our jacket appreciation rhythm.

Javi and his yellow aviator sunglasses - My biggest “YEAH BOY!!!” ever for this one. The amount of work that must have gone into this. 24 individual gifs coloured to your usual levels of absolute perfection and then laid out in this very pleasing and completely accurate, not-a-pixel-out-of-line way. Amazing.

Javi chasing Franklin Jurado through Curaçao in Best Laid Plans - Gosh this scene was so tense! You’ve done a great job colouring this despite the changing lighting conditions and the blazing sunshine. Well done! And I never noticed until I saw this gifset for the first time that he’s wearing a pink shirt and jumps from a pink building, haha!

Javier Peña leaning over tables - You see stuff like this? This is why I consider you to be the ultimate expert on Narcos. You make compilations like this and make it look effortless. I wouldn’t know where to start looking for scenes like these without having to rewatch the whole series and take notes. But, hey, maybe that’s what you did. But the fact that you did and made this set is still amazing.

NARCOS | 1.06 EXPLOSIVOS - Great job with such a dark and unforgiving scene! You have the Talent. He looks really pretty here.

Javier Peña + favorite look - Gosh, yes. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Pedro Pascal is a very talented actor. He takes clunky vintage tactical equipment and makes it look flipping incredible, like something he was born to wear. Also thank you for that delectable bonus gif. Arms.

The Mandalorian

Okay I have rambled for, like, 800 words already so I’ll try to say a bit less about these. I’ll try.

Din’s beskar spear heel kick in The Rescue - First of all, I saw this and now I’m pregnant. This is on the list because not only is it Din’s hottest moment for me, but because colouring-wise it is impressive. It’s bright, there’s no colour cast at all, and yet the blacks are really deep and rich. Gideon’s I’m-evil-I-must-wear-nothing-but-black cape looks especially good.

Din’s walk - You are the compilation queen! There’s nothing really that I can say here that I haven’t already said about your other compilation gifsets, it’s just perfect as usual, ya know? You make it look so easy. How does Din look so good when [New Yorker voice] he’s just walkin’ here?

Din just being a dad - Yeah. That’s the Good Stuff.

Din’s shoulder/waist ratio whenever he walks into a room - Everyone shut up I am Thinking.

Din engaging in a dogfight while his son has the time of his life on the backseat in The Siege - Like with your set of pink-shirted Javi chasing that guy in Narcos, you have a real talent for giffing action scenes. You’ve coloured this really well. You can still see details in the clouds and the shadows and your colour balance is impeccable.

Din lifting his helmet to sip soup in The Siege - I love the warmth of this little scene and the colouring you’ve done here. And the bonus gif... same, Grogu, same.

And I think I’ll stop there. I have sadly had to leave out some really excellent posts but I had to draw the line somewhere, haha! You, my friend, are just incredible. Time and time again you grace us with perfect gifs in crisp HD 4K 1080p HDR. And for what? Not for money or reward, but for love. Thank you for all that you do, because you may make your gifs look effortless but I know it is anything but. You’re amazing, you’re talented, you’re perfect.

creators send me 🎨 and i’ll tell you my favourite of your last ten creations and why

#javier-pena #ask #you're one of the best gifmakers on this site if not the best #i could go on but i already have #🎨 reviews

[aerynwrites]

Husband - Javier Peña x Reader

Author’s Note: Ugh I LOVE Perdo Pascal, and his role in Narcos has me WEAK. so here is a little one-shot? fic? idk what you would call this lol. But here you go, I hope you all enjoy this little request I got! Love to hear from you all as always! (Sorry for any grammatical errors, I’m writing and posting this in between classes so I didn’t quite have time to like triple check lol)

Request? Yes! based off this request: How about a one-shot where Agent Pena or Agent Whiskey (your choice) takes injured reader/partner (who is secretly in love with him) to hospital.  He lies and tells them he is her husband so that he can stay with her.  When she wakes up, the nurse says something like, "Your husband went to get coffee, but he held your hand all night and kept telling you how much he loves you."  (Requested by anon)

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: blood, violence, fluff.

/////

While you had been an agent for the Drug Enforcement Agency for almost 10 years now, you were completely caught off guard for what awaited you at your assignment in Columbia. Not only was there bribery, treason, and just down right morally questionable circumstances, there was also Javier Peña. When you were assigned to move to Columbia to help the DEA take down Escobar, you had met Steve Murphy the minute you stepped foot into the country. He was kind enough to escort you back to the Embassy and give you the official tour, as he called it. Everything had been going well, but then Javier Peña showed up and, as his presence usually entails, he dampened the mood.

“Another rook?” he said, hands on his hips as he looked you up and down, eyes filled with disapproval.

Murphy let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, “Javier, meet (Y/N) (L/N), Senior DEA agent.” He said pointedly.

You squinted your eyes at the man in front of you, completely turned off by his hostile and frankly rude demeanor, and you opened your mouth to speak, but Javier cut you off.

“Well she’s not a senior agent down here Murphy,” he looked from Steve to you, “And I don’t need another person to babysit and translate for. One is enough,” he all but hissed.

You took a threatening step forward ignoring Murphy’s hand on your upper arm, “I’ll have you know Agent Pen͂a,” you emphasized these words, your Spanish accent shining through as you said his name, “I grew up in New Mexico, and my parents are from south America, so I think I can handle myself just fine. With or without your help.”

Your words were dripping in venom, and Javier had to keep the surprised look on his face at the revelation of your background as well as the fluttering of his heart as your accent slipped through. Not that he fond that attractive or anything…just surprised. Yeah, just surprised.

Javier hadn’t moved in in, hands still on his hips as he let out a sigh, “Whatever. I’m just going to go ahead and assume you’re all in on this operation,” he relents, “We have a lead on the whereabouts of some Narcos connected to Escobar, we have a possible safe house location.”

You didn’t waste a second before you were grabbing your holster and leather jacket and brushing past the two men towards the door, “Well what are we waiting for, let’s go!” you called.

Your eagerness to dive into your work had Javier and Steve casting a glance at one another before shrugging and following you out the door.

* * *

That was forever ago. At least it felt like it was as you fell from the second floor of one of Escobar’s known homes and plummeted to the ground. It had been several months, almost a year since you had joined the hunt for Escobar in Columbia, and you all had made considerable progress. Despite several setbacks with M-19, the police, and even Escobar himself, you all were closing in. And along with your continued search for Escobar came the inevitable close relationships with your partners. You had grown to see Steve as somewhat of a brother to you, weekly dinners with him and Connie becoming a regular occurrence. They helped ease the pain and homesickness you felt being away from your friends and family for so long. It also provided an environment in which you all could just relax and forget about the days work, opting instead for wine, local food, and beer, a familiarity you had missed since moving. However, your relationship with Javier was nothing but confusing. He had slowly but surely accepted you as his partner, acknowledging your capability in the field and fearlessness when it came to doing more questionable parts of the job. However, that was as far as it seemed to go, which was difficult for you because you had grown to feel more for the man than just a platonic relationship. As horrible as it seemed to you, the feeling of love and adoration slowly crept its way into your heart the more you were around the hardened DEA agent. You had been hard pressed to reject his more intimate advances one evening when you all were at your apartment eating pizza and just relaxing after a hard day’s work. He had flashed you one of those toothy charming grins, and less than subtly suggested what he wanted. However, you, not wanting to get trapped in a meaningless friend with benefits relationship, turned him down. No matter how much it pained you, and he never asked again. However, he seemed to distance himself more after that, and it frustrated and saddened you. Was that all he saw you as? A conquest to take, and once he found out you weren’t giving it up you were worthless to him?

For some reason that night, the night with the pizza and hasty rejection, was the only thing playing through your head as you fell through the air and hit the ground with a painful thud. The Wind was knocked from your lungs and you knew instantly you had broken several ribs as you could not draw in a full breath. You and Javier had climbed the stairs to the second story of the house and when checking the last room a left behind Narco had burst from the closet with in, and before you could react he had fired a shot directly into your shoulder before roughly shoving you through the open balcony doors. You vaguely registered a panicked shout of your name followed by another gunshot before you tumbled over the railing and to the ground below.

Which is where you were now.

Blood pooling around your neck and shoulders as you lie gasping for breath on the warm dusty ground of the backwater property of Escobar’s mansion. Your head was throbbing painfully along with your chest and leg. You couldn’t even think properly to try and figure out what had been injured in the fall. You just kept struggling to breath as tears slipped from your eyes, both from the pain and the now ever-present fear of death. You hear two sets of rapid footsteps approaching you and opened your eyes to see the faces of Javier and Steve hovering over you, expressions of panic and fear creasing their features.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve muttered as he knelt down, “What happened?” he demanded from Javier.

“Steve just shut the fuck up and get help over here now!” he exclaimed.

Steve just nodded and ran off to make a call as well as request help from the police there with you all. Javier knelt next to you and pulled your hand in his own, brushing your hair back in a comforting manner, causing you to close your eyes at the small distraction from the pain.

“Hey, look at me,” Javier gripped your hand tighter, and you opened your eyes to look at him, “Don’t go to sleep,” at this point he had started to remove his button up shirt, leaving him in only a white undershirt, and pressed it firmly to the still bleeding wound in your shoulder.

You let out a cry of pain as more tear’s escapade your eyes, the pain was excruciating and your eyes were getting almost too heavy to keep open, but you did.

You looked over to Javier who was now trying to asses your other injuries, “I’m sorry,” you mumble, “I should’ve been paying attention.”

At your words Javier snaps his gaze back towards you his heart clenching as the words left your mouth. You just got thrown out of a window and were currently bleeding out, and you were the one apologizing? He just shook his head and returned his hand to the side of your face, brushing the tears away with his thumb.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. You just stay awake – stay alive,” he insisted.

If you weren’t half unconscious, you would have sworn you heard desperation and a slight fear in his voice as he said those words. But before you could dwell anymore on the fact, Steve ran back over to the two of you.

“Come on Peña, we have to move. Medical help is no where to be found, so our best bet is just driving her there ourselves.”

“Fuck,” the man above you muttered before looking down at you apologetically, “I’m sorry (Y/n), but we have to move you.”

Those were the last words you heard before you felt him slide two arms underneath you and life you from the ground. You didn’t even let out a cry of pain before darkness consumed your vision.

* * *

“Hey! We need help! We need help right now!” Javier called out to the staff as him and Steve burst through the doors of the hospital, your unconscious form still held firmly in his grasp.

The next few moments were a whirlwind of commotion as the nurses and doctors jumped into action, quickly moving you onto a gurney and rolling you into the back after listening to what happened from Javier. He watched, for once feeling completely helpless, as he watched you be wheeled past the doors and into emergency surgery. Both him and Steve sat in the waiting room anxiously waiting to hear something about your condition. Javier could hardly keep himself in his seat as he switched from sitting to pacing, then sitting again, then standing and asking the nurse if there was any word, then sitting again. It was making Steve even more anxious.

“Will you sit the hell down?” Steve finally blurts, “Please? God, you’re making me more anxious pacing around like that,” he finished, leaning his elbows on his knees and letting out a sigh.

Javier turned on Steve ready to make a snarky remark but stopped himself short when he saw how awful Steve looked. He was being selfish. He wasn’t the only one who cared about you, he knew very well the sibling-like bond you and Steve shared and felt himself deflate slightly as he plopped in the chair next to his partner, running a hand over his face.

“I’m sorry, I just- “he stopped himself, taking a deep breath, “I’m just worried about her.”

“And you think I’m not?” Steve shot back, “She’s not just your partner you know.”

Javier let his hand fall from his face and onto the armrest of the chair, “I know that, it’s just that I- “he stopped himself, pursing his lips to keep the words from coming out. He wasn’t sure he was ready to reveal those feeling yet.

“You what?” Steve pressed.

Javier opened his mouth to respond but the entrance of the doctor stopped him short.

“(Y/N) (L/N)?” the doctor called out your name, which prompted both Steve and Javier to jump from their seats.

“Is she okay?” Steve asked frantically.

The doctor gave them both a kind smile and tucked a clipboard under his arm, “She is going to be just fine,” both men let out sighs of relief and wait for the doctor to continue, “She had three broken ribs, but they didn’t puncture her lungs so it will just be uncomfortable to move and breath for a few weeks. However, the gunshot wound to her shoulder and her broken tibia will keep her out of commission for at least a few months. That means no field work agents, I mean it.” The doctor look pointedly at both men.

“Can we go see her?” both of them asked simultaneously.

The doctor adjusted his glasses and looked down at his watch a frown tugging at his lips, “Well unless either of you are immediate family, I can’t allow that. Visiting hours ended four hours ago.”

Before Steve could say anything, Javier took a step forward, “I’m her husband! Just married last week,” he smiled, hoping his usual charm will help him out in this situation.

“You’re her what?” Steve’s shocked words caused the doctor to give the men a suspicious look.

Javier just reaches an arm around Steve and pats his back more roughly than needed, a fake smile plastered on his face, “I know, I can hardly believe it myself,” Javier’s voice drips with faux happiness, as he squeezes his partners shoulder begging him to play along.

Before Steve or the Doctor can say anything else, Javier is walking towards the door and holding it open, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to see my wife now.”

The doctor gives one more cautious glance to both men before leading Javier back to your room. His eyes immediately fall to your sleeping form and he feels a lump form in his throat and his heart clench at the sight of you. He doesn’t even hear what the doctor says as he takes in your form. White bandages wrapped around your shoulder peak out from under the baby blue hospital gown as well as the sling that rests over your arm. He also notices your right leg is casted from just below your knee all the way down to your foot and is elevated on some pillows. By the time he has pulled a chair up to the side of you bed and holds your hand in his, the doctor is gone.

* * *

The dryness of your mouth is the first thing you notice when you wake up. followed quickly by the beeping of a machine and the shuffling of papers. You open your eyes more and take note of the dimly lit hospital room and your newly bandaged wounds and casted leg.

“Good Morning, sweetheart,” a feminine voice meets your ears.

Your eyes move to find the source of the sound and are met with a short petite nurse in green scrubs standing at the end of your bed flipping through papers on a clipboard. You open your mouth to respond but it’s so dry you can hardly get any words out. The nurse, who had looked at you briefly, seemed to notice your predicament and quickly poured some water in a little paper cup before handing it to you. You swallow the entire cup in two gulps, and sigh in relief as you lay back into the pillow, the movement flaring pain up the side of your neck.

“You are one lucky woman,” the nurse says as she takes the cup from your hands.

you close your eyes and try to adjust yourself to sit up more, “Yeah, I’m just glad it wasn’t any worse. Because trust me, I’ve had worse.” You chuckle dryly.

You glance around the room and are immediately aware of the absence of your partners, and you frown slightly. Had they not stayed? You felt your heart clench at the thought of your own friend not staying to make sure you were okay.

“Was there anyone that came in with me?” you ask, “Two men, a tall blonde and then a shorter brunette?”

The nurse’s eyes seem to light up at the mention of your partners and a large smile comes across her face…what was her deal?

“Oh yes! Your partner Steve said he was going back to fill out some reports and then your husband just left to get some coffee.”

Your eyes widen, and if you had still been drinking water you would have surely choked, “My husband?”

Her smile widens as she looks at you, pulling the clipboard to her chest, “Oh yes, he was a nervous wreck waiting to hear word from the doctor on your condition. And since he was let in the room, he hasn’t left your side,” she notes, and she leans in slightly to whisper her next words, “He really love you, you know. When I would come in to check your vitals and such he would constantly be whispering of how much he loved you and how he couldn’t lose you…” she lets out a forlorn sighs, “It’s endearing really, I wish my husband was like that.”

You couldn’t do anything but stare at the nurse as you soaked in the news, she just told you. but before your mind could catch up and respond, Javier walked back into the room, coffee in hand and the nurse excused herself, sending you a wink on the way out. Javier met your eyes and his own widened at seeing you awake. But he tried to keep his composure as he walked over to the side of the bed and sat in the chair still resting there.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, genuine concern in his voice.

You rest back into the pillows, not sure what to say. Because physically you felt okay, most likely thanks to the pain medication, but emotionally you were confused. Confused at what the nurse told, confused if she was telling the truth. So, you just shrug, choosing not to answer.

Javier doesn’t seem to like that answer because his hand falls to yours and he runs his thumb over your knuckles, “Are you in pain? Do I need to get the nurse back- “

“No. No Javier I’m fine, I just- “you paused not sure how to continue.

Javier sets his coffee down and leans back in his seat now, hand withdrawing from your own, “It’s just…. what?” he asks, a curious expression settling on his face.

You pick at the hospital blanket absentmindedly, not prepared to talk about this subject but knowing that it needs to be discussed.

“The nurse told me some things,” you begin, “Some things you said while I was out. Some rather…intimate things.” You finish finally, looking to the man sitting next to you.

He seems to freeze in his place, mouth dropping open as if saying ‘oh’, before it snaps shut and he seems to be at a loss for words. Which, for him, was very unusual.

“Did you mean them?” you ask quietly, not sure if you want to know his answer.

He’s quite for a moment, and you’re sure he’s about to reject you. tell you they meant nothing and that he was just afraid of his partner dying. So, your mouth starts to move before you can stop it.

“Never mind, that was a dumb question. I know you were probably just worried about me dying. I was so stupid to think that you could like me back. I know that’s not your style and- “

“(Y/N)- “

“in this line of work its never a good idea to- “

“(Y/N)- “

“get into relationships and I’m sorry if I-“

“(Y/N)!” Javier’s raised voice stops your rambling, “Stop. Just listen to me.”

You snap your mouth shut, lips pressing into a thin line as you wait for him to tell you off. But you unclench your jaw when you feel his warm hand gran onto your slightly cool one. You look up at him again and are shook by the soft and almost loving look he gives you as a small smile tugs at his lips.

“I was terrified when I saw you go over that balcony,” he admitted, “And I was even more scared when you passed out in my arms. I was so scared you were going to die in this hospital and I would never get to tell you how I felt,” as he stops speaking he brings your hand to his lips and kissed the back of it softly before placing his other free hand over yours encasing it in both of his still very warm hands.

You felt tears burn at the back of your eyes at the meaning of his words, you were so sure you had pushed him away and that he could never feel the same way as you. so, to here this, it was a lot.

You squeezed his hand gently as you looked at him, “You remember that night you brought over Pizza and beer?” he nodded, “And you tried to get into my pants?” you let out a little chuckle as he groaned and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly but nods again.

“I thought I pushed you away,” you admitted, “I thought that you had only gotten close to me so you could add me to your list or whatever.”

“No (Y/N), that’s not what happened, I thought I had pushed things too far,” he explains, “I thought you wouldn’t want to be around me again because of that. I though its ruined things.”

You shook your head and squeezed his hand again, “Well, that’s good to know,” you smile, “Because when you quite hanging around me after that was when I realized…” you paused.

“Realized what?” Javier asked, heart pummeling against his chest at the words he expected to come from your mouth.

“That I love you, more than just a friend or partner,” you finally admit, eyes dropping from his own to look at your still intertwined hands.

Javier didn’t say anything at first, and when he pulled his hands from yours, your heart fell to your stomach. Did he not feel the same? But before you could voice your concern his hands came to the sides of your face as he leaned down to place a heated and desperate kiss to your lips. You kissed back instantly and, out of instinct, went to reach your hand up to card through his hair, but a sharp pain in your injured shoulder caused you to let out a gasp of pain.

“shit,” Javier pulled away instantly and looked over you worriedly, “Did I hurt you?”

You let out a pained chuckle as you rested back against your pillows, “No, I just got a little too excited, and I don’t think my shoulder appreciated it.”

Javier gave you a mischievous smile before leaning closer to you, “I can kiss it better.”

Before you could respond he placed a tender kiss to the bandages over your injured shoulder, then a soft kiss just below your ear, then finally a much gentler meaningful kiss to your lips. You responded and you both stayed like that for a moment before he pulled away and sat back in his chair, your hand held in his securely.

“Did it work?”

You smile and nod, “Yes, I think it did, husband.”

He let out a loud laugh at your little joke and scooted his chair closer to your bed, resting his hand near your head and stroked your hair affectionately.

“I think I could get used to that,” he whispers.

You smile and kiss him one more time before nodding, “Me too.”

////

Permanent Tags: @lord-wolfgen @petalduck​

#Javier pena x reader #javier peña #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal