#javier peña x reader x katie

[danidrabbles]

Trifocal

Part 5 of Triumvirate

Summary: A well-deserved holiday, as seen through the eyes of three people.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader x Katie

Rating: Explicit.

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: female reader, established polyamorous relationship, threesome (f/f/m), romance, smut (oral / piv mentions / fingering / dirty talk / D/s elements / orgasm denial / sex toys / overstimulation / ass play, but in a blink and you’ll miss it type of way), alcohol consumption mentions... Please let me know if I missed something!

Notes: The Triumvirate trio goes on holiday! We're taking a bit of a jump here from Part 2 to Part 5, because we find Javier, Katie and Reader in a relationship together. How did they get here? Some hints in this one will have to satisfy for now, but we're working on Part 3 and Part 4 to show you the full story! A very big thank you to my writing partner in crime @javier-pena, without whom Triumvirate wouldn't exist in the first place, who patiently checked this for mistakes and who almost singlehandedly kept my belief in myself as a writer alive over the past year.

----

Javier never takes a holiday.

You urged him into this one, as you had done with every holiday you had taken together, and while you were planning it together, he realized he couldn't remember the last time he took time off before he met you. It’s not like he never had any time, he just never really felt the urge. Work kept him busy, and the girls and alcohol kept him distracted. It wasn't until he met you that things became… easier, more balanced. You certainly helped him to take it easier on himself, to bear the importance of his job but to stop feeling like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

To take holidays.

One of the simpler parts of planning had been figuring out where to go. Katie’s desire to visit Europe outweighed every other option, especially after the embassy had cancelled her work trip to Spain. He’d been the one who had to break it to her, and the look on her face, the quick succession of surprise, disappointment, and forced acceptance, made his heart ache. Suggesting a holiday to Europe earned him one of her signature smiles, the one that makes him want to give her anything she wants just to see it.

The distance had been a pleasant prospect, too. He can’t get called back into the office when he’s nearly 6000 miles away…

Two days ago, the three of you arrived at the place you rented, and he immediately felt as close to relaxed as he had in a long time. It’s secluded, spacious, gives the option to hide away and be as you all want; it’s easier, being here and being the three of you together. 

The small town you’re staying in offers anonymity in a way that makes him feel at ease to walk around the way the both of you are now, in front of him. His eyes travel from your linked hands, up to your profiles as you talk, and smile, and lick away at your ice cream.

He likes to watch you with her. It gives him a chance to observe you in a way he never gets to, and it’s like he falls in love a little more every time. Though he can’t deny that Katie offers you something he finds difficult to provide, something… carefree. It’s something he struggled with at the very start of this, the thought that maybe he wasn’t the best match for you — that you belonged with her.

You’ve made it very clear you are right where you belong: With her and with him.

“Here, try this,” Katie says, offering her cone up to your mouth, watching your tongue dart out to swipe along the cold treat. 

She watches you with dark eyes, and Javier finds himself equally affected. It’s something else he gets out of this that he still struggles to come to terms with. That it’s okay that he likes it. That you do as well, and so does Katie.

As if she can read his mind, she turns to him with an expression that makes him feel warm. The pride he finds in her eyes — the awareness that you get to share all of this, that everything between the three of you always runs in a circle of sorts — is something he relates to. He acknowledges her look with a jerk of his head, and it makes her face break into a smile. After, she turns back, accepting your offer of your ice cream for her to taste.

As she does, Javier’s eyes drop down to the little camera bag Katie carries with her. If he had a camera, he would take a picture now, when the two of you are unaware of how he’s watching.

Click.

Another time.

----

Katie feels like she’s dreaming.

Because being here is like a dream. It’s something she’s wanted for as long as she can remember, and it’s everything she expected it to be — the people are friendly and easy-going, the food is delicious, the landscape is beautiful…

The street in front of her is a perfect example: narrow and cobblestoned, ivy growing up the side of the small, crooked houses. It’s almost like a fairytale. She excuses herself, untangles herself from your grip and reaches into her bag to find her photo camera.

She bought it with the first paycheck she got after she started working at the DEA. It felt like something worth celebrating, to materialize the pride she felt over moving to an unknown city and taking a new job. It’s not even like she needed a camera, per se, but walking past a camera store in Bogotá, she was drawn in by the pictures in the window. It got her thinking. It would be nice to document her life, use the film to take pictures of the city, her new friends, to show them to her dad when she’s back in the States.

This holiday definitely feels like something worth commemorating; a way to celebrate your relationship after the tests it has faced. 

It’s the three of you. It feels right. It is right.

She gets the feeling again later, when you’re taking a break from sightseeing, sitting at a table in front of one of the restaurants for a drink.

Javier and you are sitting opposite her, lost in conversation, and she lands in it too late after studying the menu too long to really participate, but it’s fun to watch. Neither of you are particularly animated, but you’re equally engaged, not letting the other win until—

“Jesus, fine!” you laugh, shoving at Javier's shoulder. “You’re so stubborn.”

Katie can tell it’s meant to chastize him, but it just comes out fond. Javier simply grins, then lets his hand fall on your thigh in affectionate victory. The look you give him in return stirs something deep in Katie’s chest, makes her want to reach for her camera to capture it, but the moment passes.

She’ll get her chance one of these days, she reasons.

----

“Anyone else want something to drink?” you ask, stretching where you’re laid out on the big lounge bed beside the pool. The curtains surrounding it billow in the wind while you get up before you pad down the poolside. 

On your way to the kitchen, you gaze down into the water. Katie floats by, on her back, topless, eyes closed behind the sunglasses perched on her nose. She thanks you and asks for a beer. Javi, on the opposite side of the pool, sitting in the shallow end, does the same.

Once inside, you allow yourself an extra second in front of the open refrigerator, basking in the cold air, before plucking two beers and a bottle of water from the door. You fill a glass with water, and bring it to your lips to take a large gulp that slides pleasantly cold down your throat. 

You’ve been here for the better part of a week now, and you could get used to this. The warmth is different from the sweltering Colombian heat, the passage of time here makes the days seem twice as long and it feels like the first time you haven’t been worried about any aspect of your relationship with Javi and Katie. With everything out in the open, there’s finally time to enjoy it.

When you gaze up at the pool through the window, you see the two of them clearly had the same thought. 

They’re in the shallow end, Katie in Javi’s lap, their kisses innocent until Javi’s mouth opens under Katie’s for a kiss that’s obscene. Javi takes hold of the bottom of her breast and dives down to close his mouth around her nipple. Katie cups his head, pulling him closer as her mouth falls open.

You shiver at the sight, and can imagine all of it; Javi’s mouth there, his moustache on the sensitive skin, your own mouth there, the sound Katie makes when you let your teeth play with her. Heat licks up the base of your spine, and you hesitate, not sure if you should act on it and join them, or take a mental picture of this and let them have their moment. It’s decided for you when Katie’s eyes suddenly find yours through the window, and she smiles before beckoning you to her with her free hand.

You almost smash the glass as you put it down on the counter, forget their drinks, and walk through the door with hurried determination. Plunging into the pool via the side closest to you, you wade towards them, finding your place behind Katie and between Javi’s knees. You pepper her warm shoulder with kisses until you reach her neck and find that spot where she’s sensitive.

“Hmm, you feel good,” she sighs, her hand tangling in your hair and holding you in place.

Your hand curls around her body, cupping her other breast with a squeeze. “So do you,” you whisper in her ear.

Under the water, Javi’s hand finds the side of your thigh, squeezing before Katie’s hand knocks him away. He pulls away from her with a wet gasp, and a confused look in his eyes.

“Kiss her,” she says, framing his jaw with her hand and leading him to your face over her shoulder.

His mouth lands on yours, kissing you with fervour as Katie’s hand disappears back under the water. You hear the water slosh around you, feel how your knees slide along the bottom of the pool as Javi’s body presses more of Katie’s up against you. She moves between you, her hand finding his lap until he bucks into her touch. 

Javier breaks away from you with a growl, his eyes dropping down to watch where Katie’s hand undoubtedly circles his cock. You watch with him, hands roaming Katie’s soft skin. In turn, Katie twists her free hand behind her back, her palm sliding down your abdomen and past the waistband of your bottoms. Her movements are limited on account of the angle, and the fabric that isn’t giving, but she finds your clit with expert precision and circles it with one of her fingers.

With a gasp of her name, you try to widen your thighs to give her more space, teeth sinking into her shoulder when she works a finger into you. As you do, you slide your hand around her hip, attempt to return the favour, but she stops you with a soft, “Don’t,” as she slides a second finger inside. “Just enjoy it, sweetheart.”

You know that this is how she likes it — playing the role of observer and participant, getting the chance to let her mouth run knowing it will only make you wetter, Javi harder. It comes natural to her in a way that you wish you had a little more in you — in a way that reminds you of Javi.

Javi’s hand comes up to twist her in his direction until he can look into her eyes. He looks intimidating, his hair slicked back from the water, his eyes dark, but Katie doesn’t seem to notice. Or pushes on in spite of that. 

“Feeling a little left out?” she asks, the control she has over the situation making her bold, and brazen, and you grind down against her hand in response.

“Careful,” he replies, his voice deep and raspy, before kissing her and biting at her lip.

She threads that edge, pushing closer, squeezing him in her grip. “Or what, Javier?” she asks.

You watch with curious eyes as Javi’s top lip trembles with a hint of a snarl, before his eyes go a little softer and his jaw goes slack. You know this expression, she’s doing that thing he likes where she circles his frenulum with her thumb – that thing you taught her.

“Hmm, I thought so.”

The words make you throb — she’s so sexy like this, when she wins, holds the both of you in the palm of her hand and knows exactly how to play you.

“We’re going to move this over there…” she tells you, eyes dark with lust, with an idea, as she nods into the direction of the lounge bed you were seated on earlier, “...where Javi’s going to fuck you.” 

She says it so matter-of-factly, and you’ll never get used to it. Her hand slides out of your bikini bottoms, and resurfaces to take your chin between her thumb and forefinger. You find yourself nodding along at her words with lust-filled conviction. It fuels her, a pleased expression gracing her features. The kiss she places on your parted lips is chaste, but her words after are anything but,

“And I think I’ll sit on this pretty face.”

----

Two days later, you find yourself sightseeing once more.

“I saw pictures of this in the travelling brochure, but it’s much bigger in person,” Katie says. 

Her head is thrown back to look up at the castle she’s referring to, at everything she told you and Javier about when she pressed you to go here; battlements, towers and turrets, arrow slots, cream coloured bricks, baby blue roofs and spires… It was a sizable drive, but her enthusiasm for it sold it pretty much right away.

The last time you saw her so passionate about explaining something was when she talked about the time she went fly fishing with her dad.

Without looking away, Katie reaches for the little bag hanging by the side to find her camera.

“Why don’t you give that to me?” you ask when she takes it out. “I want to–”

“Didn’t I tell you?” she interrupts happily. “It’s so pretty”

“And it’ll be even prettier with you in the picture with it,” you say, clarifying your intent. You take great pride in watching the realization wash over her face — her understanding, a blush, the way she hides a smile — you love being able to do that to her.

“You’re such a flirt,” she says, playfully narrowing her eyes at you before shoving the camera against your chest and turning to find a good spot to stand.

Seeing her through the rectangled little glass makes her seem like she is the only person there. And in that small moment, she is. As you change the angle, make sure the light looks right, that the colours will come out like they’re supposed to, she flashes you a radiant smile, and it doesn’t leave you unaffected. You capture her just like that.

Click.

It occurs to you that you never told her about the photography class you took when you were in school, and you almost do, until you see Javier at the edge of your view, making your mind change directions. He’s fiddling with his hands, nervous. It’s easy to imagine how a workaholic like him would find it difficult to wind down. It’s crowded here, and he’s vigilant, even far away from his DEA duties. 

“Javi — Javier!” you shout, waving him in Katie’s direction.

He nods in understanding, makes his way towards her and hangs his sunglasses off his shirt. They’re facing each other, engaging in a conversation you can’t hear from your distance. Then Javier tilts her chin up and wipes a thumb over the tip of her nose — some sugar from the donut she had earlier, maybe? Katie’s nose scrunches up. Javier keeps his index finger hooked under her chin, smiles at the face she makes. 

It’s the perfect moment.

Click.

“Excuse me,” a voice next to you asks in a thick accent. “Should I take a picture of the three of you?” When you look up, a man is looking at you expectantly, holding his hand out for the camera. “You will have some proof you were here also.”

You assess him quickly: He's pushing a stroller with a small, sleeping girl inside, and there's a woman by his side who gives you an encouraging smile. Not exactly the kind of people who would take the camera and hit the ground running.

“That would be nice, thank you.”

You jog towards Katie and Javier, and you know your smile in the picture will be genuine when Javi puts his arms around your shoulder, pulls you close, then does the same to Katie. After a few moments, the man gives you a thumbs up, and when you’ve made your way back to him, he places the camera in your hands as you thank him again for his offer.

“You are very brave for going on a holiday with a couple,” the woman says.

“I’m sorry?”

“Those two,” she says, looking in Javier and Katie’s direction. “Very in love, no?”

You follow her gaze, and find them looking at the castle, Katie’s back against Javier’s chest, his arms around her, his chin resting on her head.

“Oh,” you say, smiling and trying to hide the fondness in your voice. “Don't worry, it's not as bad as you'd think.”

As soon as the family is out of view, you raise the camera back up and find Katie and Javi through the viewfinder.

Click.

----

It's been five days since Katie got the better of him in the pool, and Javier can't let it go.

It's not like he didn't enjoy it; far be it for him to complain about watching her sit on your face until she came all over it while he fucked you. If he’s really honest with himself, it’s the fact that someone stepped to him and succeeded, and that instead of feeling threatened, he feels invigorated by it. He feels that way every time she manages that.

This afternoon, she’d been so sweet. It's a joy to experience this trip through her enthusiastic eyes, and his attraction to her soars when he hears her talk about all the research she’s done about all the places you visit together. She also makes meeting people and small talk seem effortless; it’s like Katie has never met a stranger.

So no, he doesn’t want to "get back at her", because it isn't like that, but he’s in the mood for something. The desire is making him itch, especially now that she’s getting cheeky.

After a dip in the pool to escape the afternoon heat, you’re out for a late dinner, and she's back to pushing his buttons. It doesn’t help that she looks gorgeous. Her air-dried curls look more wild than usual, and her cheeks have gone freckled, slightly red, all from the sun. Seated across from him, she keeps finding his calf under the table to stroke the top of her foot along it. All the while, she’s seated next to you, scanning the menu for desert. Or pretending to, anyway. It all comes to a sudden halt when she excuses herself to find the bathroom.

"So, what is it?” you ask as soon as she’s out of view.

"What?" he replies.

You close the menu in a way that makes him think you know you won’t be staying for dessert, and put it on the table. "Your big plan for her.” Placing your hands on the table’s edge, you look at him with a raised brow. “That's what you're thinking about, aren't you?"

In any other scenario, he would feel like he got caught thinking about something he shouldn’t – someone he shouldn’t. Your tone doesn’t match that, though. Your tone is encouraging, your interest piqued. When he doesn’t answer, you lean over the table, move closer, and the movement pushes your chest against your hands, presses the tops of your breasts up in your top in a way that distracts him.

Leaning back in his chair, he purses his lips in thought. "Remember, before we left, when you asked me if there was anything you should bring?"

Your expression instantly goes from playfully inquisitive to something giddy and knowing. "Yes."

"That's my plan," he decides, watching as Katie makes her way back to the table with nothing but mischief in her eyes. "And you're going to help me."

----

“Stop.”

Javier’s voice is so stern it sends shivers down Katie’s spine, the deep timbre of it seemingly reverberating off the walls. The small vibrator he has pushed against her clit stops buzzing, and the two fingers you have pushed inside her stop moving and curling. Her back lands back against the bed where it had been arched up from, the sheets damp with her sweat.

Katie’s pretty sure she shouldn’t enjoy this as much as she is. She’s aware this is more for your shared pleasure than for her lone benefit, but it’s a byproduct that suits the three of you all too well. Because the truth is, she loves being at your mercy; a participant in something the two of you are doing together. 

Ever since sleeping with the two of you for the first time, she’s never once been bothered by the time you were together before she joined you. How could she? Javier and you were clearly perfect for each other, a team in so many ways. She complements you, but not in a way that she’s inferior in this relationship — you’re all equal. There’s a little bit of both of you in her, and she knows that plays its part in why this works.

Despite enjoying the teamwork, it’s getting harder and harder to take — and to stay dignified. She’s been worked up to the edge two times now, and the desire to get vocal about it is rising in her throat. 

She’d mistaken it for something else at the start of this, thought having the two of you in bed, on either side of her outstretched legs, was a simple shared moment of pleasure and not an assertion of dominance. The first time the both of you had brought her to the edge and stopped before she could tip over, she’d tried to finish the job herself, a hand flying between her legs. Javi had warned her not to with a, “Hands above your head. And keep them there or I’ll find something to tie them up with,” to which she had curled her fingers around the bars of the headboard. 

They’ve gone numb now.

“Give her a taste,” Javi says. 

Katie gasps as your fingers slip from her cunt in a wet rush and present themselves at her lips. She opens obediently, her lips closing around them to taste her own desire with a hum.

“More,” Javi tells you.

Katie’s eyes flick over to him, watch as he takes himself in hand while you slip further down her tongue. The tip of him is slick with pre-come, and he uses it to stroke himself to the sight of the two of you.

The slick sounds mix together, filling the bedroom in tandem. You pull your fingers back before sliding in deeper, and repeating. Katie knows you’re pushing her, she can tell from the look in your eyes, the way you slide along the back of her throat and push a little further each time. It makes her heart race, makes her try to hold out and build up the anticipation, but you get what you’re looking for when she lets out a choked sound. Tears form at her waterline when you do it again, and she clenches around nothing when you compliment her with a,

“Well, don’t you sound pretty.”

Katie heaves a wet gasp for air when you allow her one, feels the trails of spit sliding down the corners of her mouth, her chin, before she chokes again when you push your fingers back down her throat. 

“Enough,” Javi says, letting go of himself. His palm lands wetly on Katie's thigh, spreading her open to slide the toy back between her legs. 

Following his lead, your fingers find her opening, use her saliva to add to the wetness and glide back inside. 

You go again.

It’s when Javier tells you to stop for a fourth time that Katie loses her composure. 

One moment she feels like a livewire, like she’ll come from just the right caress, the next everything stops, leaving her feeling frustrated and tender. She’s so close she can taste it, desperately clenching around your stilled fingers, a phantom buzz still between her legs even without the toy. 

“Please,” she cries out. “Please, keep going."

Katie’s watery eyes flash to you when she feels your hand twitch, slightly, but still. “Javi,” you begin, voice soft and unsteady. Your conviction is wavering, she can see the confliction in your eyes. She knows it’s not because you think she can’t handle it. It’s more in your desire to please, the satisfaction you get out of her getting off. You move with every intention to continue pumping and curling… until Javier's hand closes around your wrist.

“Feel that?” Javier asks, addressing Katie with a voice that sounds like the complete opposite of yours – clear, in control. His hand moves, your wrist moves, Katie cries out, and the headboard creaks in her grip. “She wants to give it to you. Think we should do that, baby? Do you want to come?”

Katie nods, and it crosses her mind that this must be what it’s like to feel fucked dumb, the deep desire and need so raw on the surface that she feels like it’s the only thing she needs. “Please, Javi,” she begs, her voice coming out raw. “Can I come?”

His expression is unreadable. It reminds her of when she’s been on the other side of the interrogation room glass, watching him question people with iron determination. She knows that he knows how to get what he wants. So much so, that it’s almost a shock when the vibrator clicks back to life, when Javier’s thick fingers spread her open and bare her clit so he can circle, circle, circle.

“Oh, please,” she babbles, writhing against the sheets when your fingers start moving in tandem, as she races towards her peak again. Everything pulls taunt, the muscles in her abdomen contracting before Javi’s hand lands there and pushes down, keeping her in place and making your fingers hit that perfect spot. “Pleasepleaseplease–”

Katie comes with a shout, rolling her hips as best as she can with the way her movement is restricted. Her hands fly down, clutching the damp sheets as the oversensitivity burns through her limbs. You stop moving, but keep your fingers in place. Javi, however, doesn’t let up.

“J-Jav,” Katie stutters, eyes pleading as something new and devastating begins tingling up her legs.

“You wanted to keep going,” Javier says, the device click-click-clicking under his thumb as he increases the vibrations. Her sweat runs cold. “So put your hands back up and let's see how long you can last.”

----

The first time Katie wakes, it’s 3:06 am. She’s squished in between the two of you, your breath softly fanning out against her chest while Javi snores puff out softly against the back of her neck. Her eyelids feel heavier every time she blinks, until she falls back into a dreamless sleep. 

The second time she wakes, two hours have passed. 

Nothing else has changed.

----

When you wake, it's close to the afternoon, and it’s just you and Katie in bed. You can tell she’s still far away, breathing heavily, and you can’t blame her after the night she’s had. As you contemplate getting up, your rumbling stomach decides for you; some food would be nice. Carefully, you untangle yourself from her, then find a shirt on the floor and slip it on.

In the kitchen, you find a bowl and fill it with some fruit, then circle the house to look for Javi. You find him by the open backdoor, a cigarette between his lips and his yellow-tinted sunglasses on his nose.

He’s someone who struggles to unwind, to allow himself that, but you’re proud of how he’s doing on this trip. Especially these past few days; you haven’t heard him and Katie talk about work for a solid five days. He matches it in looks, his hair more dishevelled, more buttons on his shirts undone (if any are done up at all).  

You greet him by sliding your hand up from his back to his shoulder, and step outside to stand next to him. The concrete below your feet is warm from the morning sun, the sky is a clear blue, and a little breeze plays with your hair; tell-tale signs it will be another day in paradise.

“She still asleep?” Javier asks, before hollowing his cheeks around the cigarette.

You let your index finger play with the grapes in your bowl, pop one in your mouth and answer, “Yep.”

“Maybe we were a little too hard on her,” he prompts, taking another drag.

As you chew, you look at him from the corner of your eye, watching a little smile lifts one corner of his mouth as he puffs out the smoke. He knows as well as you do that she likes it, maybe more than she’d like to admit. By your count, she came five times. You bask in the knowing silence. It’s both thrilling and comforting, knowing what goes on in her mind, knowing it also occupies his.

“I liked doing that with you,” you say, rolling the one grape you have left around in your bowl. “A lot.”

“Yeah…” Javi says around an exhale, his final plume of smoke before putting his cigarette out. He takes the bowl from your hands, sets it down on the garden table by his side. With a little sway, he takes you in his arms, looking down at you with a playful expression, “...I noticed. Who knew you’d like it so much to be knuckle deep inside another woman, hmm?”

You inhale sharply at the lewdness of his words, but smile at the truth in them. “Well, I could say the same for you.”

He hums again, before a small frown puts a crease between his brows. “Aren’t you glad we figured that one out together?” His voice is softer, and his tone is different — less lighthearted, more serious.

“Yes,” you assure him, hands sliding up his bare chest on their way to cupping his cheeks. “Very glad.”

He leans down to press his lips to yours; it’s chaste and soft, and full of emotion. You return it with the same sentiment.

“I’m going back to bed,” you tell him when you pull away. “Are you coming?”

He strokes his nose against yours, and nods.

----

This isn’t what Javier expected from “going back to bed”.

It had started with just you, pushing him on the empty bed, straddling him before crawling down to lazily suck him off… until Katie emerged from the bathroom. She watched at first, but quickly became a participating voyeur, kneeling behind you and flipping your shirt up to bare your pussy to her.

"Sweetheart, look at you," she’d cooed, her hands circling the soft skin of your ass, the slick sound of her parting your lips following. "Getting so wet from sucking his cock."

Javier had gotten up on his elbows just in time to watch her lean down to taste you. With a stutter of his hips, he forced more of himself into your mouth.

Three groans echoed through the room.

Katie has you close to it now, he can tell by the way you’re distracted, moaning around his length while she holds you tightly against her. With a sound that makes him throb in your mouth, she pulls away to watch herself slide two fingers into you. The visual and physical stimulation makes Javier’s eyes go out of focus for a second, glassy with pleasure until he catches Katie looking up at him over the curve of your ass. Without breaking his gaze, Katie flicks her tongue up between your cheeks, and it goes straight to his cock when you come up with a gasped, “F-Fuck, Katie, keep doing that, you’re going to make me come.”

Your forehead drops against Javi's thigh, your hand clumsily stroking him as your free hand reaches back to palm the back of Katie’s head and push her back down until you come with a cry. You tremble in the aftermath, your puffs of breath making goosebumps rise along his sensitive skin. 

"Holy shit,” you manage to huff out after a while. “Come here.” Letting go of him, you turn over on your back to pull Katie to you. 

Javier watches her land on top of you with a giggle, kiss you, pull your shirt over your head as you exchange whispered words. He can’t make out all of it, but his cock jumps where it’s curved back against his stomach when the words “taste him together” reach his ears. 

For a moment, it had felt like his orgasm was ebbing away, but when the two objects of his desire untangle and turn until they’re on their stomach, side by side between his legs, he feels the fire reigniting in his gut.

You take turns on him in a bobbing of heads that you’ve almost perfected over time. Even without looking, he could tell who is who. You take him deeper, add a twirl of your tongue when you come off of him that makes his toes curl. Katie is sloppier, like you taught her, her spit sliding down his length as she sucks on his tip. But watching is better — much better. 

It’s hypnotic, watching you work together and share a wet kiss over the tip of him before you focus back on his cock. Except this time, Katie kisses you once, twice, then tells you to, “Keep going,” while she slips from between his legs and disappears from his view.

It makes Javier zero in on you, only vaguely registering the mattress dip behind him. Your hand curls around the base of him, holding him steady in the absence of Katie’s help, and just when you slide up, eyes on his, your mouth open along the underside of him, wet, warm, familiar, when his head falls back into the pillow with a grunt of pleasure…

…there’s a click.

When Javier opens his eyes, he finds Katie kneeled behind him, camera in hand, lowering it from in front of her face to watch as you jerk his cock. Unable to resist, he reaches for her, pulls her down for an upside-down kiss that he can feel her smile into. He likes this about her, her playful nature, how easy it seems to come to her despite everything that has happened between the three of you, and how she has the best ideas. 

“Give that here,” he whispers when he pulls away, “and get back down there with her.”

Katie swallows hard, on account of the order, he suspects, something he noticed she likes coming from him. With a nod, she places the camera on the mattress next to him, before crawling back between his legs.

You’re still in your place, curious eyes following Katie’s every move and accommodating her body next to yours again. Katie brushes your hair aside, kissing your jaw, your cheek, before wrapping her hand around the base of his cock and offering him to you. 

It takes him back to the start of your holiday.

His thighs tremble when both of your mouths go back to sucking him off, sliding up and down the side of his cock again, and again, and again—

“Take a picture, baby,” you prompt hoarsely.

He’s surprisingly steady as he picks the camera up with one hand and lifts it to his face. It looks so much more erotic through the viewfinder, like a snippet from a dirty movie. It fills him with a sensation that tingles up his legs and blooms up between his hips. He must make a sound, something he’s unaware of, because you and Katie look up at him at the same time, with bright eyes, spit-slick lips still wrapped around either side of his dick—

Click.

It happens with an accidental twitch of his finger, but he has a feeling it’s for the best when he feels himself throb, twitching between your lips… “I’m gonna—” he begins, managing to toss the camera back on the bed before coming with a stutter of his hips and a deep moan.

It coats both of your faces, slipping down cheeks, and lips, and necks… He gets a taste of it when the both of you crawl back up to him, gets it fed back to him off fingers and lips and tongues. The aftermath puts him in a daze, and the way both your hands are stroking along every part of him make him feel intimately cherished. It also reignits something deep in his gut that makes him stir, and hungry for something else - more.

You squeal when he sits up and flips you over with a growl.

Later, when you’re all spent and satiated once more, he watches as Katie reaches for something next to the bed. She produces her camera from the floor, and he feels guilty for discarding it so carelessly earlier. 

It must show on his face, because she’s quick to assure him. “Don’t worry, it’s sturdy.” She puts the camera back in her bag, “But I don’t think we can ever get these developed.” 

Javi snickers at that. Katie’s right, it was fun while it lasted, but seeing the results means bringing the film to a store and allowing them to be seen by others to get them developed, which would be…impossible. It’s a shame, but not the end of the world. At least, that’s what he thinks, until he looks at Katie, when he sees a smile on her face that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Just as he goes to assure her that the real thing is better than the pictures anyway, something clicks. 

It isn’t about your private photos, it’s about the others.

He takes her hand and pulls her against him, pressing a kiss on her brow. You stir next to him, turning to face him in the early stages of sleep, and as he watches you, a plan begins to form.

----

“Is this like last time?” Katie asks.

The excitement in her voice makes you laugh, and when her head whips in your direction. Javi’s hands almost slip from their position over her eyes as he leads her blind through his apartment. You’ve been back in Colombia for a week now, but there’s still unfinished business from your trip.

“Don’t make fun of me!” she splutters, covering Javi’s hands with her own to keep them in place. “You look sexy in blue lace. Though it was more fun taking it off you. You really missed something, Jav.”

“Apparently,” he replies, eyebrow raised.

You wave his expression away. “Yes, yes,” you say, cheeks heating at her recollection of the blindfolded fun you got up to during Javi’s latest business trip. “It’s not like that…” you watch her purse her lips in disappointment, “...but I think you will like it.”

Javier and Katie come to a halt in front of one of the doors, and you open it before motioning for Javier to take his hands off Katie’s eyes. When he does, she blinks her eyes back into focus, undoubtedly still confused by what it is that you’re showing her when she looks into the black of the room. It’s completely dark on account of the taped off window, but when you flick the lightswitch, the room is bathed in red light. It highlights all the equipment — the enlarger, trays, photo paper, timer, a line of rope from corner to corner…

“I took a course on this a couple years ago,” you explain. “I dug up most of the equipment, we got you some new supplies. I could teach you, help you develop our holiday pictures.”

“Wow,” Katie whispers, stepping inside to let her eyes roam around the room. “You giving up your office for me, Javi?”

Javier crosses his arms in front of his chest and shrugs, before leaning against the doorpost. “I have an office at the office, and… this is more important to me.”

There’s a sparkle in her eye when he says that, something you recognize from yourself when Javi expresses his affection in a way that you didn’t see coming. 

She looks back at you. “Can you… show me now?” It’s clear she’s trying to mask the eagerness in her voice, but she’s doing a horrible job, and you love it.

Who could say no to that?

“Of course.”

Katie smiles brightly, turning on her heels back to the living room to retrieve her camera.

You approach Javier, and he uncrosses his arms to make room for you, to let you slide a hand up his chest and say, “Good idea, baby,” before cupping his cheek and giving him a kiss.

As you do, you hear a click.

----

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#dani writing #javier peña x reader x katie #javier peña x you x katie #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #narcos #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction

[javier-pena]

virtus

Part 2 of Triumvirate

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader x Katie

Word Count: 14.2k

Rating: Explicit

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

Warnings: mention of food | so many feelings!!! this is 50:50 on feelings and smut | smoking | power dynamics | a lot of bi panic | threesome (f/f/m) | Javi is in charge (as a treat) | the oral fixation in this is … a lot | oral (f and m receiving) | size kink | brief hand job | cum eating | a bit of dirty talk | praise kink | fingering | voyeurism | masturbation (m) | spanking | (unprotected) p in v sex

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

***

It was supposed to be a one-time thing.

You had a deal.

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

And you would get a friend.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t dare to.

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

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

_______

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You squirm at the sensation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See?” Katie says with a nod at Javi.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your tongue licking her clean.

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

Javi.

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

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

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

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

_______

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

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

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

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

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

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

That thought is impossible to bear.

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

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

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

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

You nod encouragingly, eager for him to continue.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_______

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finally, you shake your head.

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

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

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

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

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

Finally, you answer, “Yes.”

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

You don’t say anything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You mean like …,” Katie starts.

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

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

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

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

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

Then she licks her lips. “Yes, okay.”

Your heart stops. “You sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

_______

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

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

Although you did break one of the rules right away.

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

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

Javi just nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, giving her permission.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eager,” she comments, removing her hand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good,” he observes with a nod.

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

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

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

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

“Good,” Javi says from somewhere above you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I touch you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then she does.

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

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

“Katie.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, like that, that’s it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come for me, baby.”

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

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

“I love you, Javi.”

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

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

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

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

triumvirate taglist: @1andthesame | @acdeaky | @batdarkladyvampir | @beskarprincessjenny | @darksber | @darnitdraco | @deliriouslybewitching | @desir-ae | @dobbyjen | @doin-stuff | @fireproofmarta | @floraandfrost | @for-my-satisfaction | @highsviolets | @itssmashedavo | @jettia | @justanotherblonde23 | @kesskirata | @knivesareout | @lavenderluna10 | @lawfulgranola | @leannawithacapitala | @letaliabane | @lovesbiggerthanpride | @MSWarriorBabe80 | @nicks-nelson | @noctiscorvus | @omgreally | @pedropascalsx | @pedrostories | @phoenixhalliwell | @pilothusband | @practicalghost | @rebel-fanfare | @redcrvette | @reluctantlyresponsibleadult | @silksaddle | @skyshipper | @softpedropascal | @spacenerdpascal | @sweetgirlray | @tacticalsparkles | @tanzthompson | @the-blind-assassin-12 | @theorganasolo | @thesmutslut | @vanemando15

javier pena taglist: @pookipedia​

permanent taglist: @adricnchase​ | @amneris21​ | @aurelacmoon​ | @chronic-nosebleed​ | @din-jarhead​ | @harriedandharassed​ | @jazzelsaur​ | @lestradeslover​ | @martellthemandalor​ | @nyfeeer​ | @nobodys-baby-now​ | @pedrorascal​ | @radiowallet​  

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

[chaotic-iguana]

Sleep

Summary: Reader suffers from lack of sleep, caused by a recent event. As she continues to overwork herself, she reaches her breaking point with near disastrous results. Starring concerned!steve murphy, chaotic idiot!steve murphy and clueless!reader. javi has my fucking heart though.

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no use of y/n though)

Rating: M

Wordcount: 2.2k 

Warnings: fluff, mild angst, sort of a panic attack, mild MILD allusions to someone being creepy (not javi though), mild flirting, humour, lots of swearing sorry

this is my first fic - let me know your thoughts! check me out on ao3

masterlist.

“I swear to fucking god Murphy, if you don’t stop bouncing your leg against the table, I’m slamming your head right into it” is the gospel that flows out of your mouth at 7 am on a Monday morning. Feels like it’s gonna be a great week.

“The hell did I do? You’d think Connie’s cookies would be enough to get you animals off my back, but no, first sign of any damn fire an’ the first person you’d throw in?” Steve huffs. “Murphy”, he repeats mockingly. You scoff and roll your eyes at him, clenching and unclenching your fists in an attempt to talk yourself down from strangling the idiot situated two feet to your left before turning back to the paperwork in front of you. The one-foot-tall, monster stack of paperwork. Right. In. Front. Of. You. And would the golden boys ever do it themselves? If they ever got a moment’s relief from jacking each other off during missions (or however the hell they manage to fumble practically every single little op), maybe. But most of the time, you were stuck with it. Because god forbid the two princesses you were partnered with ever had to so much as lift a pen themselves. Hell would freeze over.

And it isn’t like you mind. At all, really. Half your job is the paperwork, and you’re happy to get it in order - if only to avoid Noonan’s wrath. Besides, what good is an agent if they can’t do their fucking job? In its entirety; not the half-assed shit most of the men did around the embassy. But a single glimpse of yourself in the mirror while rushing to leave the house revealed that these past few weeks of skipping lunch breaks, going home late, and taking files home to work on have been catching up with you - sunken, bloodshot eyes, cracked lips, and bruises smudged under your eyes now, perpetually, since the nightmares had started. Anything to keep you busy, right?

Another aggravating side effect of the amount of work you had taken on apart from the usual? The constant irritation. Marlene’s new nails, Katie’s suspicious last lay, the stupid fucking demon alarm clock that never quite managed to wake you up, the busted tire, the broken coffee machine, Dave from accounting’s downright idiotic whistling, your pen running out of ink, and finally - Murphy’s bouncing knee banging the table every fucking millisecond, practically in tune with the pounding ache beginning to form between your brows. If you were a better person, you’d let these things go. Such is life, right? But since the lack of sleep, the increased workload and general mishappenings had already created this beautiful trifecta of shit just to screw you over, better people could go fuck themselves. As could Murphy. “Don’t use your wife’s cooking as an excuse. I’m telling you, make another sound and die.” you spit out, whirling in your chair because the incessant fucking banging still hasn’t stopped - just in time to catch Peña sauntering in, already smirking.

“Already nailing Murphy’s balls, cariño? Careful, I’ll fall in love, baby.” You can hear the laughter in his crooning voice as he throws it over his shoulder - but you don’t care - can’t care, beyond the spots that seem to be forming at the edges of your vision. Were your fingers always a bit tingly? Or is that a new development, like your tongue suddenly feeling thick and heavy in your mouth, like you’re choking on it? But even though your thoughts feel slow and weighed down by molasses, rage sparks brighter in your mind as Peña’s flirty nicknames and bullshit teasing registers. You push away from your desk, and shoot up from the chair, striding towards the door to get some air - or you try to - because before you know it, your vision is blinded by white and you’re breathing quick, shallow breaths as you lay on the ground trying to figure out what the fuck is happening. Distantly, you can hear someone calling your name but it sounds so far away you barely even register it. Hands wrap around your wrist, your head, attempting to stabilize you, to ground you, as you flail wildly in a panic. A low hum begins to fill your senses, forming words that sound to fuzzy to understand or care about right now, but you lean into it, something in your being telling you it’s safe.

When your sight clears, you’re curled up on the on the floor trembling. Shaking, like a scared fucking child, while Peña kneels to hold you to his chest, repeating the same few phrases over and over: “You’re okay, it’s okay hermosa. You’re safe. Safe. No ones gonna hurt you, it’s over now, okay?” as Murphy stands next to him, watching with panic and a hint of sympathy in his gaze. You scramble away from them both, panting, nearly slipping in your effort to get to your feet. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, pretty. You’re okay” Peña repeats his assurances with his hands held out, palms facing you, as you stand on wobbling knees, wiping at your face.

“‘M fine” is all you whisper to them hoarsely before ducking your head and rushing out of the pathetically cramped room you three work in. You can hear footsteps behind you, but can’t find it in you to turn around - not even at the panicked sounds of your name being called by a familiar voice. You’re making a scene, you know it, but you don’t care. It’s all too much, and you’re too far gone. Reaching the parking lot, you struggle to unlock your car as your trembling fingers drop the keys twice. Swearing, you resolve and pick them up again, pressing them and reaching for the door. But just before your fingers find the handle another hand - much, much larger than yours - splays out on the window to stop you, just as Peña’s signature bedhead comes into view. He looks at you with wide, concerned eyes, his mouth tucked low at the corners, like he’s disappointed. You want to melt, you do, because the melting pot of emotions you have for him make you preen at his worry - but your usual defense mechanisms humble you. And so you sharpen your claws, flash your fangs, and the hackles raise again, leaving a “What, Peña?” to come tumbling out in a tone so sharp it makes you flinch. HIs frown just deepens as his gaze rakes over your form frantically, as if checking for injury. He says nothing, pursing his lips further before snatching your wrist and tugging you behind him as he stalks to his car, opening the side door. You raise a brow at him, and he counters by jerking his head towards the car, scowling slightly. You get in, slightly confused, and wait for him to walk around and get into the drivers seat. “What the fuck, Peña? I just fainted, I’m not senile. And I don’t give a shit how mad you are, you can’t just-just drag me to your car and f-force me to get in. The fuck are you playing at?” you begin to ramble, fury somehow still rising at a dizzying speed. Peña doesn’t respond, just starts driving while looking straight ahead while you continue fumbling over a panicked rant so pathetic it sounds nonsensical to your own ears. “…And what? You just enjoy calling me s-stupid nicknames? You think it’s cute to flirt with me while I’m- while I pass out?” This one makes his nostrils flare, eyes darkening a bit while his jaw tightens just for a second before letting go. You pause for a second, getting your breath while your hands still shake in your lap. “I’m fine, it’s fine. Can I just go home please? I’ve already done the month’s paperwork for all the ops we have planned, and you can just give me the rest post-op. I’m just a bit under the weather, I just need to lie down for a bit.” you start trying to reason, but the stubborn ass just keeps driving, and alarm starts bubbling in your chest again. You look down to your lap while you fiddle with your thumbs, willing to control the irrational fear yelling at you that something’s wrong every second Peña chooses to stay silent.

“Think I was flirting with you while you passed out? Y’think I don’t see it, you working yourself to the fucking bone? Think I can’t see how you’ve stopped eating, honey? Stopped laughing like you used to? Think I don’t know how late you’ve starting going home? As ‘f I’ll ever stop waitin’ for ya to clock out first so I know you’re home okay, baby. You gotta tell me what’s wrong - this is eatin’ you up.“

Peña’s tone softens, but his harsh whisper makes you turn your head to look at him. He sounds so…tortured, as if he’s the one suffering. He glances your way, locking eyes with you for a second before turning his head back to the road. You sit there and practically gape at him, your jaw slack as your head whirls. Peña knows? No, wait, he waits? For you to go home so you’re safe? He cares? What the fuck? Confused, all that comes out of your mouth is a mighty elegant open-mouthed “huh?” before you blink at him, waiting for him to continue.

“You gotta know by now, sweetheart. Gotta see how I’ve been lookin��� at you. You’re the smartest fuckin’ agent I’ve seen, with the balls to take down men I’d sweat to be ‘n the same room with. You swear like a sailor, an’ make me laugh till I’m chokin’ on my own damn cigarette. Tell me what’s hurtin’ you, honey. I can’t promise I’ll fix it, but I can swear to you I’ll damn well try my best.” He responds, turning to hold your gaze as his own eyes widen, and his brows turn down. Puppy eyes, you think. 

Your brain has gone from hazy to too fucking clear in a matter of five minutes, and now it feels like your thoughts are gonna come ripping out of your head. So you just blink at him, again, before reaching an unsteady hand out to cup his cheek. “I’m okay, I swear. Just-you remember that deal I had to cut last month? With the sicario? For intel on that lab?” Peña nods, and you continue. “Fucker led me to a dead end. Ambushed me. O-only got out ‘cause his gun jammed, and his child-soldier ran away. I just-this is so fucking dumb I’ve been in worse but- I can’t get it out of my head. The shit he said to me, the way he looked at me, t-touched me. I should be dead or worse, Peña. And I nearly was.“ you look down again, ashamed of the truth that’s spilling out of your mouth. It’s so small, so weak, you just want to fold into yourself and never come out. Your voice wobbles towards the end, tears filling your eyes as you turn your head away from the man you’ve wanted for so long to save whatever dignity you still have left. “‘N I can’t sleep anymore. Just see- or feel him every time. So thought I’d work for a bit. Clearly didn’t fucking work out, though.” small hiccups have started to punctuate your words, testament to the tears now flowing down your cheeks. Peña pulls up to an unfamiliar building and turns to you.

“‘S Javi, honey. Look at me, pretty baby.” He cradles your chin between his thumb and his forefinger to turn your head towards him. “None of that was stupid, okay? Come lie down at my place. I’ll sit in a damn chair next to you and fight him away if he comes in your dreams, sweetheart, okay? Nothin’ to be ‘fraid of. Never letting any fuckers near you again.” Javi leans in to brush a kiss to your forehead before stepping out of the car and hooking his index and middle finger to beckon you too. You step out of the truck and towards him, smiling while swiping at your face. “Didn’t know this was what the girls meant every time they bragged about sleeping with you” you snark softly, with a teasing grin on your face as you reach him. Javi rolls his eyes playfully before unlocking the door.

“Ain’t gotta do no sleepin’ you don’t want to, honey. You’re here to get some rest. Be a good girl and sleep f’me, and I’ll keep you up for as long as you like after,” he  throws over his shoulder with a matching grin and a wink.

#javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fluff #javier peña x you #javier peña x reader #javier peña #steve murphy #narcos fanfiction #javi #soft javi #fluff #hurt/comfort #ive never done this before let’s see how this goes heehee #javier pena fic #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena imagines #javier pena narcos #narcos #cool-iguana

[tieronecrush]

I’m finally sending you a request!!

it’s a bit based on Waking Up In Vegas by Katy Perry with Javier x reader.

they have known each other since high school but haven’t seen each other since after graduation, until one night they bump into each other in Las Vegas, while both are there for their friends’ birthday parties.

At some point it’s only them left at the bar and they spend the night drinking, talking about each others’ lives and other things 🫢

they wake up the next morning in the same bed, hangover and married.

I already know I’m going to love this!!

FINALLY have finished this, thank you so much for your patience friend! <3

(re)union with elvis

rating: E

word count:

summary: ask above!

warnings: alcohol use, drunkenness, silly decision making, chatting about marriage/kids/life, discussion of failed previous relationships, vegas marriage, elvis getting annoyed, making out, fingering, unprotected p in v, sloppy drunk sex with ur new husband lol, discussions of annulment/ending marriage, use of spanish (all translated), etc.

Eyes open to sunlight beaming in through the wide opening of the blackout hotel curtains. You shut them again immediately, turning over away from the window, stopping when your hand brushes something next to you. Your eyes spring open again at the feeling, taking in next to you the dark, touseled hair, relaxed brow, hooked nose with a full mustache above plush lips.

Javier Peña.

You completely forgot about the little reunion you had last night at the bar with your high school crush.

And clearly forgot that the two of you ended up coming back to your room—no, wait, this is not your room. Same hotel, though, you can tell from the similar art hanging on the walls and the same blanket at the end of the bed. Must have been nearly missing each other the whole weekend you’ve been here.

A grumble from the man next to you turns your attention back to the bed, pulling you out of your thoughts. Half awake, his arm moves and slings across your waist, tugging you closer. He hums and his eyes slowly peel open, widening as he fully awakens in the low light. His arm stays loosely over your waist, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as he faces you.

The two of you take in your bare skin against each other, under the scratchy sheets. Warmth radiates between the two of you, Javier fully pulling his arm away and sitting up, the sheets still covering his lower half as he looks down at you.

“Um…did we…?” Javi’s voice hoarse with sleep and a hangover, right hand coming up to rub the back of his neck as he swallows the words that he doesn’t necessarily want to speak out loud, in fear of awkwardness that already coats the air.

The moment pulls a laugh from you, completely involuntarily, and you fall from your side onto your back. With a slow nod in confirmation, you shrug your shoulders with the sound of sheets rustling.

“Guess so,” you chuckle again and a smile stretches across Javi’s lips, a scoff of a laugh as he shakes his head.

“Is it bad I’m kind of mad I got too drunk to really remember that?” his eyes drag along your form under the thin bedsheet, hand coming up to his face to pull his thumb across his bottom lip from the corner, “Don’t really know if it came up last night, but I had a huge crush on you in high school.”

“The Javier Peña had a crush on me?” you tease, shades of memory from last night at the bar with him coloring your mind, seeing his sheepish grin as you beam back at him, “Think you did mention that last night. And pretty sure I told you that I also had a huge crush on you.”

Both of you giggle softly again, your face shifting into a wince as your head pounds from the sounds and strain of laughing. Your hands come up to your face to wipe under your eyes and rub circles in your temples, groaning quietly and opening your eyes to Javi’s face dropped in shock.

With a quizzical expression aimed at him, you open your mouth to question him when he suddenly takes your left hand and crosses the arm over your chest as he brings it closer to him, eyebrows furrowing as he studies your fingers. When you follow his stare, your stomach drops when you see the golden band with a plush oval diamond. His thumb runs over the gem, pressing the ring into you and you can tell it’s cheap, the gold coating a flimsy metal ring.

Javier’s eyes meet yours again, wide eyes and raised eyebrows matching yours, “Uh—-um, I—Did we get married last night?”

Music thumps around you, sending vibrations from the shaking floor throughout your body as you stand in the middle of the dancefloor in the club. Your friends surround you, all dancing along to the pop song with you. It’s a long weekend at the end of summer, and you and your closest friends from college all gathered in Vegas to celebrate your younger friend’s thirty-fifth birthday. She was always a bit of an extra person, so when you received an invitation via email to join her in Las Vegas for the weekend, you weren’t quite surprised that she was going big for her birthday. And besides the fact that you were having fun celebrating with your girlfriends, it was nice to get away for the weekend and let loose completely.

Your drink swishes in the cup in your hand as you dance, facing your friends and unaware of the man approaching you from behind, leaning in asking you just loud enough to be heard over the music.

“Care to dance, beautiful?”

Immediately, you roll your eyes at the question, typical of a man to be so blind to a woman having fun with her friends and not wanting to be bothered. A rejection sits on your tongue as you turn around over your shoulder, lips pursed in a sour pout.

The man comes into view, a lilac short-sleeve button-up stretched across broad shoulders and tapering into a waist and thigh sculpted into tight blue jeans. Your eyes flutter back up to the man’s face, soft brown eyes striking into your chest and a warm smile showing off his teeth from under his trimmed mustache.

A gasp slips from your lips out of reaction to the sight in front of you, your own smile widening to match his.

“Javi Peña? From Laredo?”

His arms move out at his sides, showing himself off for you to consider the answer to your question with a chuckle.

“I knew it was you,” he smiles sweetly as you pull him in for a hug, squeezing your arms around his shoulders. From under the fabric of his shirt, you can feel his muscles flex under as he wraps his own arms around you in an embrace, one of your hands dropping to his back and feeling the deliciously taut strength. He smells like tobacco mixed with notes from his cologne, vetiver, musk, and lemon tingling your senses as you take another breath in your hug before pulling away. Your hands remain on his shoulders as you look him up and down, meeting his eyes with an incredulous laugh.

“I can’t believe it’s you! God, it’s been…”

“Years? Don’t remind me I’m old, I already feel like it in this whole city,” he laughs.

You hit his shoulder gently before dropping your arms back to your sides, rolling your eyes playfully as you grin.

“Oh, hush. You can’t say you’re old cause that makes me about to be old. You were only a grade above me, Peña.”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t spend years running on rooftops and trekking through the jungle in Colombia. That shit ages you. You, on the other hand, don’t look a day over twenty-one. Bet they had to check your ID coming in here, didn’t they?” He sends a wink to you, smile quirking up to one side as it turns into a smirk, the look releasing butterflies in your stomach.

“You probably asked them to check your ID to follow all the rules, Agent Peña. Never pictured you becoming a cop when I knew you in high school, Javi.”

“You think I follow all the rules, hermosa?”

You grin and shrug your shoulders, leaning in closer to hear him better as he continues.

“Hate to tell you, but I am not above breaking some rules to get the results I want. Not too far from the ‘me’ you knew in high school.”

“Hm, guess I have a lot of catching up to do with you,” you nod to the bar across the wide dance floor, “Wanna grab a drink and chat? My treat.”

He rolls his eyes this time, shaking his head as he leans in, lips brushing your ear as he speaks to you, “Couldn’t live with myself if I let a woman as beautiful as you buy me a drink. You go find us somewhere to chat, I’ll grab us a drink.”

Goosebumps trail down your spine, nodding at the instructions and giving him your usual drink order. The two of you linger near each other in the middle of the sea of bodies before you step away first, brushing past him in search of somewhere for you to talk.

A couple of hours have passed since you and Javi have retreated to the corner of a booth in the back of the club, multiple empties on the table in front of you and a few tequila shots taken courtesy of both of your friend group’s happy for your little high school reunion.

Over the course of your catch-up, you’ve learned about his time in the DEA, now retired back to his father’s ranch in your hometown of Laredo. You could tell from the quip of his lip that he was omitting details at certain parts of the stories he told, likely covering up unsavory bits that would paint him in a bad light. It would have likely done little to quell the flames of lust that were licking inside of your torso, the slow and low lilt of his voice going straight to your core whenever he made a flirtatious comment or told a harrowing story about chasing down bad guys all around Colombia. You pictured him hot, sweaty, relieved with his chest heaving, immediately placing the visual in a different location — over you, under you, behind you. You weren’t picky in your choices.

 The long-abandoned high school crush you had on Javi came rearing back with a vengeance, heart rate pounding in your chest to the point you were convinced he could hear it over the music. It was an intimate position to be in, hip to hip with his arm around the back of the booth, leaning into each other's ears to speak, breath cascading over each other’s necks and shoulders.

You’d told him about your time post-high school, going to university not far from him in Texas, and receiving your degree. You’ve held a handful of jobs over the last fifteen years or so, ending up with a new position not too long ago. It brought you back to Laredo, purposefully, in order to care for your aging parents. Javier understood your troubles, despite the fact that Chucho was still healthy and working the ranch with him, he still felt the need to slow his father down by shouldering the majority of responsibilities to keep the business running.

Life was turning ordinary for the two of you, and surprisingly, the topic of marriage or partners or family of your own was not brought up until now.

“So, have you met anyone? Married, kids, the whole nine yards?” Javi questions, his eyes leaving your face to stare at the ice clinking around with the whiskey in his glass. It made you smile, his reservations in waiting for your answer. You’d wondered the same thing yourself — who had been lucky enough to lock down Javi Peña?

“Nope. Well, not right now. I actually was engaged in my early thirties to a guy I had met while living in Austin, but as it got more and more real that I would actually have to marry him, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t supposed to happen. Turns out he was cheating on me for months with his coworker who he always went with on ‘business trips’. So, no marriage, and no kids for me.”

Javi’s eyes come back to you, sympathy washed over his features as his arm strewn across the back of the bench curls his hand to play with the hair at the back of your neck.

“Shit, I’m sorry, cariño. Sounds like a stupid motherfucker to mess things up with you.”

You wave off the comment, shrugging nonchalantly,  “Nah, I mean, clearly I’m not marriage material cause haven’t been snatched off the market still in years. And they actually ended up getting married, so it worked out for them in the end.”

“No, that’s total bullshit. You’re incredible — you were incredible already in high school, and now? Just another level.”

You snort, covering your mouth with your hand as you shake your head.

“Tell that to all the age-appropriate eligible bachelors. If there even are any at this point,” you say with a laugh to break the tension building, swallowing down your nerves as Javi locks his eyes on you, raking them down and back up quickly. His tongue prods out to swipe his lips, shrugging his shoulders as he looks back into your eyes.

“I’m an eligible bachelor. Age-appropriate, if that’s a dealbreaker.”

“Oh, c’mon, no one’s got their ring on you? Really?” you can hear how surprised you sound, unable to hide the disbelief in your tone.

Javier laughs and keeps his eyes on you as he speaks with a smirk playing at his lips, “Nope…Well, not sure if you remember her, but I did almost get married to Lorraine. Told me she was pregnant, and I was gonna do the right thing. The night before the wedding she told me she got her period…” he takes a swig of his whiskey, eyes falling from yours to the table in front of you, “Left her standing at the altar alone the next morning. I was back at my pop’s house, packing up to take my job with the DEA. Left the US not long after.”

“So, someone’s nearly reigned me in, but didn’t work out.”

“Did you want to get married and have a baby? Or do you still want to, I guess?” you pause and internally scold yourself for the overly personal question spurred on by your inebriation, “I’m sorry, Javi, that is not my place to ask when I’m drunk off my ass.”

“S’alright, cariño. I asked you first, technically. Only fair I answer, too,” he smiles to himself before setting his glass down, turning in his seat to face you more, “I did want to back then, just didn’t feel right with Lorraine. Kinda like what you said, it felt off the closer it got to actually doing it and when I saw an out, I took it…But now? Now, I am—God, it’s a little embarrassing, but yeah I do want all that. The wife, kids. T-ball practices or dance recitals and date nights. I dunno, though, think it might be too late for an old bastard like me.”

A hand of yours rests on his midthigh, shaking your head with an encouraging smile, “Definitely not too late for you, Javi. You’re a handsome, great man. Bet I’ll be hearing around town that you’re shacked up in the next year,” a soft laugh falls from your lips and Javi grins while his eyes drink you in, lingering at your lips. The heat of his stare makes you squirm, adjusting in your seat and sipping your drink.

Just when the tension was mounting from the moment, your best friend from college walks over, one of Javi’s friends following and both approaching your small corner of the club. They tell you that both of your groups are heading back to the hotel, the same hotel, and you deflate as you start to gather your bag next to you. Javi’s hand reaches out and squeezes your thigh gently to grab your attention, one look shared between the two of you that was an invitation to stay and keep talking. With a smile, you silently agree and tell your friends that you’ll make it back together.

Your best friend dawdles, and as you’re about to tell her that you’ll be alright, Javi reassures her with his kind smile, “I’ll get her back safely, you have my word. Fought off drug dealers and soldiers and a few sicarios in my day. She will be back at the hotel and chipper for the girls’ birthday brunch tomorrow. Cross my heart.”

Both you and your friend laugh, standing to give her a hug goodnight and telling her that you’ll be just fine, to which she replies, “Probably more than just fine. Tell Javi he can join us for brunch when you wake up with him tomorrow.”

You gasp and roll your eyes as she walks away with a laugh, heading out of the bar with your friends before you sit back with Javi, jumping into a whole different conversation.

The early hours of the morning have crept in, cool desert air from around the city wisping around your skin as you stroll down the strip with Javi. The two of you are leaning against each other in a drunken stupor, giggling wildly as you talk to each other and get stares from other people out at this hour — which is a lot, it’s Vegas.

Javi’s arm is around your waist, hand curled at your hip and his fingers rub gentle circles that send your nerves firing throughout your entire body. Your own arm is resting against his back, feeling those same muscles as earlier. He’s strong, steady, even in his inebriated state, and safe. In any other situation, you’d be anxious to walk back to the hotel along the street, too many characters milling about for the alcohol to keep you calm. But with Javi next to you, there’s a freedom in it, the way he makes you feel protected despite the short amount of time you’ve been reunited. Even in school, he was a troublemaker but only in the way that he stood up for people, got into fights on behalf of the underdogs, always concerned with fairness and righteousness. It was honorable, that he always was a protector, wanting to do right by people that were affected by those doing wrong.

Ramblings about life filled the space between you two, bright lights blinding you against the midnight skies. Javier is in the middle of saying something when you stop in your tracks, the sight across the street captivating your attention as your own light blinks with an idea in your head.

It’s a small wedding chapel, a carport out in the front with a classic car parked in the middle, and kitschy decorations littering the outside with a hot pink and cream color scheme painting the facade.

Javier walks a step or two before his arm around your waist tethers him back, his eyes looking at you before turning toward the opposite side of the street. He laughs to himself, tucking into your side again as smiles.

“How many people got married tonight, d’you think?” He leans his head to the side to rest on yours, the small affection making your idea seem even better in your wasted mind.

“I dunno. But I could guarantee two if you wanna,” your head turns to him on your left, a Cheshire grin stretched across your face as a giggle slips from your chest. Javi looks at you, confused for a moment before it all clicks, and his expression turns to one of surprise.

“You’d wanna do that? With me?”

“Why wouldn’t I? We spent the whole night talking about how we both wanted to get married and have kids and all that, why not do it with each other? I mean, I had a massive crush on you in high school. Would be my dreams back then coming true,” you say with a laugh, biting your lip as you await his response.

It’s a beat of silence as he contemplates the offer, surveying between you and the chapel across from you.

“Fuck it. Let’s get married, cariño.”

“Yes! Let’s go before we chicken out,” an infectious smile fills your face, eyes crinkling as you rush across the street with him, hand-in-hand. Upon entering the chapel lobby, you’re greeted by a chipper employee behind a large reception desk. The two of you give over your IDs, anxiously waiting with each other’s hands linked together, sharing quiet, excited laughs. Once everything is settled, the employee directs you back to a room to get ready in, offering a too-small suit jacket to Javi that sits two inches above his wrists, a sight that sends you into a fit of laughter.

He brushes off your teasing and takes the bouquet that another employee arranges quickly for you, holding it as you lean over and primp yourself in the mirror by cleaning up your makeup and fixing your hair.

Javier stands behind you, watching you with tender eyes and a faint smile on his face. Making eye contact with him in the reflection as you finish, heat spreads at the back of your neck and across your cheeks at the way he’s looking at you.

“Ready, hermosa?”

Turning around and standing to your full height in front of him, bouquet held out to you. You take it, wrapping your hand around his and nodding.

“Ready, Peña.”

“Think I should be saying that to you,” he winks and drops his hand from yours, turning and grabbing something off of a table across the room. Crossing back to you he holds up a costume veil, eyebrows raised in questioning, “Wanna complete the look?”

“Of course. Don’t think I would look like a bride without it since I’m not wearing any white,” you grin and stand still in front of him, letting him put the headband securely behind your ears. Delicate fingers lift the veil to cover your face, a warm, closed-lip smile lighting up his eyes.

“Haces una novia hermosa. You make a beautiful bride.”

The sincerity laced in his voice despite the drunken haze chokes the words in your throat, only answering by taking his hand with your free one and leading him over to the chapel’s double doors. He gives you one last look before slipping in first when you’re called up, whispering to you, “See you in there. Don’t get cold feet now.”

After a couple of minutes, the doors open for you again, and immediately you’re faced with Javi standing next to a costumed Elvis impersonator. The traditional wedding march playing through tinny speakers, everything overwhelming you to the point that when you make eye contact with Javi, the pair of you break out into uncontrollable giggles. His shoulders shake as tears prick your eyes from the ridiculousness, your tipsy minds thinking everything is extra funny.

Calmed down at the altar, you stand across from him and half listen to the officiant attempt to maintain his accent throughout the ceremony. Each of you exchanges drunken repetitive vows, given cheap rings that were paid for at the front desk. Javi slips yours on and squeezes your hand, giving you his to do the same.

At that moment, rings and vows given to each other, knock-off Elvis pronounces you husband and wife by the power vested in him by the state of Nevada.

“You may now kiss your wife, dude.”

Javier chuckles as he reaches up to lift your veil away from your face, leaning in as he drops it at the back of your head. One hand cups your jaw, the other dropping to your hip to pull you in closer. He catches your lips in a kiss that’s all teeth from your smiles, mouths relaxing as he deepens the embrace when your arms wrap around his neck and the flowers rest at his back.

He huffs into your mouth, tongue tracing your lip and slipping against yours when you open your mouth for him. A soft sigh melts your body into his touch, the two of you completely wrapped up in each other.

“Alright, alright, lovebirds. We got another wedding to get to so you guys are gonna have to quit sucking face in here and take your party of two outside. Congrats,” the officiant has dropped his character, Javier pulling away from you and glancing at him.

“Thanks, Presley. See ya,” he calls out over his shoulder as he takes your hand, receding down the aisle, throwing off his jacket, plus your veil and bouquet on the desk as you make your way out of the chapel building completely.

It’s a rush from the elevator when it reaches Javi’s floor, limbs fumbling over each other as you frantically stumble down the hallway, mouths attach in a potent kiss. Javier’s touch is only adding to your intoxication, clouding your mind with his wandering hands and his tongue against yours.

He grips your waist as he reaches his room, pressing you against the solid wood door as he exhales into your mouth. Pulling away mere millimeters to speak, his low and gravelly voice rasps out to you.

“Front right pocket. Room key’s in my wallet,” he kisses you again, hands moving from your waist to your ass as his lips trail from your mouth and along your jaw. Your own fingers slip into the front pocket he directed you to, taking out his wallet and attempting to fish out the plastic card as his teeth graze at the sensitive skin on your neck.

“Fuck, Javi…Here.” You pass the key card to him and he unlocks the door, wrapping his arm around your back and walking you inside the room as he catches your lips in a rich kiss, a whimper slipping from your mouth and into his. The plush mattress hits the back of your legs and he lets you go to fall backward onto the bed, staring down at you with his chest rising and falling quickly and swollen lips parted.

“Cristo, eres hermosa, cariño. Te deseo tanto. Puedo tenerte, mi esposa?” Javier lifts one knee to rest on the mattress, leaning over you and pressing open-mouth kisses at the open chest of your night-out dress.

“Javi, that all sounds very sexy, but I think I need a translation,” you sigh as he tugs the neckline of your dress down, exposing your bare breast to the chilled, conditioned air. Javier chuckles as you gasp from his thumb brushing over your pebbled nipple, darkened eyes combing up to meet yours with a devilish smirk.

“I said ‘Christ, you’re gorgeous, darling…’”

His fingers slip a strap of your dress off of your shoulders. 

“And ‘I want you so bad…’”

The other strap.

“And I asked ‘Can I have you, my wife?’”

With one tug to the body of your dress, your full chest is bared to Javi, who in that moment you realize is technically your husband.

Your sexy, heroic, competent, charming husband.

Damn, your drunk self kind of hit the jackpot.

“Can I, baby?” he asks again, one hand reaching down to palm his growing bulge in his jeans. The sight makes you salivate, this man above you asking to have you, telling you how badly he wants you, calling you his wife.

A rush of arousal floods between your thighs and you nod, lifting yourself to sit up on your elbows under him.

“How do you say ‘my husband’ in Spanish?”

Javi’s smirk deepens, the dimple in his right cheek cavernous with the satisfaction painted on his face.

“Mi esposo.”

“You can have me any way you want, mi esposo.”

The groan that comes from Javier is guttural, as if something is unleashed in him and rumbles it’s way out. He moves with a fervor after those words, stripping you of your dress and lacey panties, carelessly tossing them aside. You sit up fully, working his button-up undone as he fumbles with his belt and jeans. As you push the material off of his shoulders, he kicks off his pants, left naked from his lack of underwear.

You chuckle softly at the choice and bite your lip, looking up at him playfully.

“Guess you’re always prepared for a quickie.”

He smirks with a slow nod, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Didn’t know where the night would take me. And now I am incredibly glad for my choice.”

A gasp leaves your lips as he kisses you passionately, pushing you back to the mattress as he climbs over you. Your legs spread for him, leaving him room to nestle between your thighs. Everything is blurred in your inebriated minds, burning touches on sensitive skin, teeth grazing with purple bruises left in their wake.

His fingers slide through your arousal, collecting your wetness with two of his fingers, slipping in and out of you at an expert pace. The heel of his hand rubs against your clit, the combined stimulations and your laxed body working you up quickly to a peak. Moans and whimpers of his name fill the space between you, coming down as he guides you through your orgasm.

With the fingers once inside of you, he strokes himself, glistening in the low lighting coming from the neon outside on The Strip. Your fingers dance across his strong chest, feeling the muscles of his biceps flex under your touch.

“You okay, amor?”

His voice is hushed, tender and sweet.

“I’m okay. More than okay. I want you, please, Javi. Please, mi esposo.”

“Fuck, say it again, cariño.”

The head of his cock pushes into your tight walls, feeling the delicious stretch of him inside as he gives you only a few inches of himself.

“Mi esposo.”

A moan slips from his mouth, kneeling between your legs and filling you completely with one strong thrust.

“Again.”

“Mi esposo.”

A hypnotizing rhythm is found in his hips, fucking you deeper with each hard snap of his lower half. His thighs hit against the backs of yours with slaps, alternating with your own moans and whimpers, deep grunts from Javi.

“Fuck…” he breathes with a long exhale, head rolling back to reveal veins in his neck. Fingers grip at your thighs, one drifting up to toy with your nipple before it drops between the two of you to circle your clit.

“Javier—Fuck, gonna come…” you whine, eyes screwing shut as the coil inside of you tightens with a burn.

“Eyes on me, cariño. Wanna see your face when you come for me.”

At the next hit of himself against that particular spot inside of you, your eyes snap open as the coil snaps, walls clenching around him with repeated moans.

“Oh fuck, Javi, yes…”

“Good girl, good fucking girl…”

With a few more thrusts, he spills inside of you, twitching as he lets go of a moan of your name. Once the both of you have come down from the highest peaks of the night, Javier slowly pulls out of you and falls back to the bed.

“Do you think we’re gonna remember any of this when we wake up?” you ask, laughing softly as you slip under the sheets with Javier, fatigue catching up with you from the long night.

“God, I hope so. Don’t want to ever forget anything that’s happened since we got into this room,” Javi winks as he extends an arm for you to cuddle into, faint laughter from both of you.

“I can’t believe we got married by an Elvis impersonator.”

“And he was so bad at it.”

The two of you are now in a fit of sleepy giggles, laying your head on his chest and his hand behind you playing with your hair.

“Go to sleep, cariño. Got breakfast to get to in a few hours.”

You groan and close your eyes, adjusting your position next to him.

“You’re invited too, y’know.”

“I’ll gladly come with. Now sleep, esposa.”

“Night, Mr. Peña.”

“Night, Mrs. Peña.”

Between the two of you, you were able to piece together most of the previous night. The memory of the horrible Elvis impersonator and the wild chapel interior made you laugh hysterically again, Javi wiping the tears from your eyes when you couldn’t stop.

Once everything had been recounted that you could remember, save the details of the last activities of the night — those were certainly memorable, just not spoken out loud — Javi studied his ring before taking your left hand with his, eyes trained on the two pieces of jewelry laying together.

“So, what do we do?”

You’re silent for a few beats of your heart, loud in your ears as you sit up, pulling the sheet to cover your chest and facing the man next to you.

“No idea.”

The next words were laced over each other, your voices interrupting the other:

“Is it weird to say that I don’t regret it?”

“I don’t know if I really want to retract it completely.”

You laugh out of the tension built, shrugging your shoulders and nodding your head for Javi to speak first.

“I don’t know if I really want to say that it was a horrible idea, that we should completely backtrack it…” He cards his fingers through his hair nervously.

“I mean, yeah, probably shouldn’t have this be legally binding marriage for the rest of our lives, but maybe we could, I don’t know, try some version of us?”

Relief washes over you at his thoughts, fiddling with the ring on your finger.

“I agree. I think just like, being married fully after this would be silly, but it also doesn’t mean that if we do something about that, we would never have to see each other again.”

“Exactly,” he nods confidently, eyes locking on yours before they drop to your lips. You make the move to lean in, capturing him in a slow, morning kiss much different than yours from late last night.

When you pull away, Javi’s smirk is plastered on his face, hand holding yours and running his thumb over the ring.

“So…an annulment? And then a date when we’re back in Laredo?”

“I’d really like that, Mr. Peña,” you say with a grin, pecking his lips.

“Alright, it’s a plan then,” he nudges his nose against yours before giving you one last kiss, “Now I promised I would get you to the birthday brunch, so let’s get this show on the road, Mrs. Peña.”

tagging some mooties: @beskarandblasters @swiftispunk @joelsversion @lunapascal @addictedtotlou @deathwife @johnwatsn @darkroastjoel @pedrospartner @atinylittlepain @soaringcloud @wannab-urs @javiscigarette @yazsos @northernbluess @pr0ximamidnight @theelishad @thetriumphantpanda @dinsdjrn @midnightswithdearkatytspb @ladamedusoif @cannolighost @undrthelights @jksprincess10 @bearsbeetsbeskar @perotovar @leslie-lyman @cupofjoel @egcdeath @mrsquill

#asks #writing #javier #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña smut #javier peña fic #narcos fic #javier pena smut #javier pena x reader #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x you

[thelightsandtheroses]

Secret Smile: Fall to Pieces (Chapter Six)

Secret Smile | Javier Peña x female reader

Summary: Before returning to Colombia to get things right this time, Javi’s childhood best friend asks him to keep an eye out for his sister while they’re both stationed in the embassy. Only you don’t need Javier to keep an eye you her. Your role as a new legal advisor is all about keeping an eye on him after all. Sparks fly, lines will be drawn and broken and there’s everything to lose.

Word Count: 3.3 k Chapter Warnings: 18+ blog, language, reader has a nickname (Blue) but no physical descriptors used Author Notes: As always, thank you for all your feedback, likes and reblogs so far – it means a lot and I’m having so much fun writing this fic. I’d love to know what you think of this next chapter so please feel free to comment, reblog or even send an ask!

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This is all too much. it’s not enough Blue is haunting him by working in the same embassy, in being assigned to be his glorified babysitter but to be living in the Tome apartment he used to live in?

Javi’s really pissed some karmic force off.

It was surreal, standing there in the Tome apartment he used to live in and suddenly flooded with all those memories while being aware that everything was slightly different, slightly out of place. There were different photos, different plants, different smells and personal touches. It was uncanny.

And then he’d almost kissed you.

He still can’t quite reconcile your reaction, can’t quite make sense of it all. It doesn’t matter though; it was a bad idea. A terrible idea even. There’s something in Javi - whenever he’s faced with those regrets and mistakes, whenever things seem to be going wrong, he wants to find solace in someone else. He did that with Katie, the intern, and he wanted to do that with you too.

Or was it more? He knows you, or at least knew you once. You’re part of his history, of his hometown. In Bogotá that makes you a spectre, reminding him of who he wanted to be, who he used to be. There’s something soothing yet so confusing about your presence right now.

He thinks about you, about what would have happened if you had kissed, the way your lips would have felt, how far it could have gone. Even now, every time you’re in the Tome room, he can feel the rising temptation, the desire to be closer to you, to be with you. He’s no longer immune to the smell of your perfume, to the way you look down at the ground for a microsecond before you smile, or how you fiddle with your necklace when you’re thinking about something. There’s something simultaneously fierce and vulnerable about you; that keeps you an enigma to him.

That moment in your home - at his old apartment - opened a door to something he was trying to keep locked away.

He’s glad nothing happened, glad he didn’t ruin everything with you as well. He probably would have.

That seems to be the way of things now.

Days have passed since the arrest and with them, an itching sensation has risen that things are going downhill. The pressure is slowly building, the tension mounting. Javi feels like he’s a lobster in boiling water, unable to escape and aware of what is coming and not sure whether there’s any fight left, or if he should just accept his fate.

He remembers the way the panic rose as he was called out in the meeting after the arrest; asked what his roadmap to victory was. This new role with its suits, ties and endless meetings? It’s not really him.

He can’t give up though. The names and faces of so many of the people he has let down in Colombia haunt him. Without someone like Martinez on his side too, Javi’s worried.

He needs results. He needs to find Jurado, to get more evidence. If he can’t do this, all the evidence his team has amassed, the progress he’s made, will collapse like a house of cards.

So, he asks Stoddard to play the wiretap tapes, tries to ignore how Stoddard reacts to that, pretends he didn’t hear Stoddard say you would not react well if you found out about this. Instead, he asks Stoddard about where he sees his career in five years if he asks others that question on the tapes’ legality and he feels the weight of the job add just a little more to his shoulders.

The odds are stacked against him, against bringing down this cartel.

What is he supposed to do?

“Please tell me this is a joke, your idea of humour perhaps?” you ask, voice acerbic and body taut.

Ever since you overhead Stoddard talking to one of your colleagues in thinly guided hypothetical scenarios a few hours ago, you’ve been waiting for this conversation. You had to sit through a meeting with your manager while quietly planning out everything you would calmly say to tear Javier Peña apart. It is a true skill to be able to do that while looking like you are listening to whatever the other person was saying.

In the past few hours, you have toyed with several reactions. From screaming at him in front of everyone to using that cold, deadly voice you only used at work when someone had really upset you. In some of your more extreme imagined responses, you have thrown the empty glasses in his office against the wall and roared too. However, that strikes you as a little excessive. You’ll save that for Plan C perhaps.

Monologues have been meticulously planned, edited, and rehearsed under your breath as you went about your day. You mentally experimented with the timbre of your voice as you spooned coffee into your mug, with exactly which words to use to best craft your argument, your admonishment.

Only now you’re here, facing Javi and it’s real.

“Blue, I-” Javi looks at you with those deep brown eyes, pleading somehow, but you refuse to fall for that.  He’s wearing one of those infuriating well-fitting shirts, the top button undone and tie loosened.

You almost kissed him …

You look over and notice the ash tray on his desk is once again filled with cigarettes and his desk is covered in scattered papers and files.

You know he’s been under pressure. Over the months, you’ve noticed the way he fidgets; the way he automatically moves his fingers when he’s nervous or under pressure. You know what the higher ups are asking of him, you know it’s a lot for one person to bear. To do what he’s done though? Any sympathy ebbs away.

“Because,” you continue, your voice venomous and arms folded, “after everything we’ve talked about, I know you wouldn’t knowingly instruct one of your team to conduct a wiretap like that, not without going through the correct processes. I know that, right? Because you’re not a complete fucking idiot.”

“I am trying to get a fucking case so we can stop the Cali cartel. Stop being naive!” Javi snaps, finally showing his real feelings. He’s not sorry, you know he isn’t, and that makes this even worse.

“By using an illegal wiretap? Do you have any idea what that could do to the case? Yes, of course you do which is why you didn’t tell me.”

“I was protecting you.”

“That’s not your job, Javi. My job is to protect this case and right now you’re hindering me.”

”Look, I know we can’t use the tapes -”

“Or anything from them! It’s fruit of the poisoned tree, Javier. This entire avenue of investigation isn’t so much on shaky ground as it is utterly destroyed. I - I don’t even know what to say to you right now.”

Your head is throbbing and you massage your temples to no avail.

“It took a while, but I am almost there with Franklin Jurado’s wife, Blue and then -”

“Oh, I bet you are,” you bite back.

“What’s that supposed to mean, huh?”

“What do you think?” you retort, completely lost to the argument at this point. Everything in you is saying to be calm, rational, to not let your emotions dictate but you are infuriated by what Javi has done.

It isn’t just about how ill-advised, how unethical it all is or how it could compromise your case. It’s because he did it anyway, knowing what your role was, knowing the position it would leave you in.

“I’m waiting on a - confirmation of something and then I’ll know where he is and we’ll get him. It’ll be solid. I have a plan.”

You sigh. “You better, Javi, you better.”

The parcel arrives the day after your confrontation with Javi. You immediately recognise the messy handwriting as one of your closest friends from back home, Shelley. Immediately it acts like a balm for your sharp edges and irritation.

To both your amusement and horror, during college she started dating one of your best friends from home, Carlos. Now the two of them are married and live in Laredo of all places. Shelley hosts a local radio show and while the people of your hometown generally seem to prefer more mainstream music to Nine Inch Nails, Shelley is persistently building a small, devoted following.

You miss them both. Shelley had made it clear that she had hoped you would come back to Texas when it was clear you needed to leave DC. She had even joked in your last phone call when you first arrived in Bogotá that she’d told you to go for a fresh start, a new job, but not to leave the damn country!

Over recent years, you’ve mostly ended up meeting outside of Laredo at concerts for bands you loved or last summer you’d all hired a house by the coast for a week. It had been you, Shelley, Carlos and Jamie, your now ex-boyfriend. 

The box has arrived at a perfect time. Javi and you were even more tentative around each other today. Yesterday’s frustration was so thick in the air you could taste it, feel it constricting around your body like insulation.

Beyond that, you’ve been riddled with doubts, anxieties, and unwanted memories since the near kiss. It’s like one moment has dropped you months into the past, back to a time you don’t want to think about.

You hate the double standards and hypocrisy at play, the assumptions you’re trying to prevent. You hate the politics of it all - the way you must prove yourself and prove yourself and never ever let a single vulnerability show while you’re at work.

You don’t open the box from your friends until you’re in your apartment, perched on the edge of your couch as you tentatively cut it open.

There are numerous packets of some of your favourite types of candy, several new paperbacks, three letters and most excitingly of all, two cassette tapes.

It’s funny how just a few small touches can immediately transport you somewhere else, can make you feel a little lighter.

You take in the three envelopes, one is clearly from Shelley, it looks the longest, the next is clearly from Carlos and is short but sweet. The other you can tell by the blocky handwriting is from Jamie. You’d spoken to him before you left for Colombia, told him that Shelley would be the best way to reach you if he wanted to.

You’ve never stayed friends with an ex before, but Jamie is different. You think the real indicator of this was that several months after your break-up when everything had kicked off in DC, he had been there for you, been a steady and calming presence when you were questioning everything and Shelley and Carlos were so far away. It’s probably part of the reason he’s still tolerated enough by Shelley and Carlos that they let him send his contribution to your care package via them, that they would even have reached out to him to get this or would have known you would be okay with that.

For a second you remember the time the four of you had met in New York to go to a concert for a band you all loved. Everything seemed simpler then - life, relationships, work.

You think about the adrenaline of this job; of how much your life has changed since then. Would you ever have imagined having dinner with Javi after he arrested a cartel leader back then?

This country is changing you slowly. Perhaps it’s not all for the bad either.

You open one of the packets of candy and the letter from Shelley first.

Shelley’s letter makes you feel like she’s right there in the room talking to you. You smile warmly at the memories of your friendship with her. Shelley’s always encouraged you, always been there for you, she’s been that supportive voice in all of those moments where you’ve wondered if you can do something. She’s been a friend you haven’t been able to shut out, who hasn’t let you push her away. You hope you represent something similar to her.

One passage stands out in letter because even in this moment, you can’t escape Javi.

Your brother says that a certain Javier Peña is out in Colombia too, which I didn’t think was a big deal but Carlos tells me definitely is. I think I saw him at Danny’s wedding and if I’m right, he is a tall glass of water. Do you see him at work? Tell me everything!

Well Shelley, you think, I completely messed up and almost kissed him, then rejected him and the man just leaves me completely confused. I may also have chewed him out spectacularly yesterday so I don’t think he’d ever want to kiss me again, even I wanted to.

You miss your friends; you wish you could more readily just phone Shelley and have a long talk over a glass of wine. You need to write back to her. Carefully, of course. There is so much that cannot be put in writing at all lest it fall into the wrong hands.  Words are slippery in a world like this; you can’t just say whatever you are thinking, but you can’t avoid replying either.

You can’t concentrate on the letters though. Your confrontation with Javi still rages through your veins - you’ve analysed everything you could have said differently, come up with several witty comebacks you missed and perhaps worst of all, in your mind you ended the discussion far more positively.

Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad if it wasn’t for the near kiss. That’s just as confusing in your mind too.

You were reckless with Javi. There is no way you can afford being seen that way here. It’s too close, too risky, too much. You have already left one job, fled the country once. If anyone from DC even heard whispers about what could have happened with you and Javi …

You scowl, trying to stop your spiral as quickly as possible. It’s okay, nothing has happened.

You take another piece of candy and sigh. You need to forget about what almost happened with Javi. For both of your sakes.

Willemstad is beautiful. The mix of painted buildings and blue ocean makes it look like paradise. You never expected that you would be somewhere like here on a work trip.

A couple of days ago, when Javi had told you he finally had located Jurado, you expected that you would just create the motions and legal briefs. You’d sit in your open plan office and listen out to hear whether the operation was successful. Only now you’ve been swept along with him to this amazing place and you feel a complete imposter.

You’re not an agent; you’re a lawyer. This isn’t like any courtroom or legal office you’ve encountered before.

“Stoddard’s confirmed all the logistics, right?” you ask as you start to walk towards the main police building with Javi, happy to be stretching your legs after the short flight.

“Yes. It should all be in place so you don’t need to worry about that. I wanted you here more for the Miami side - I need this guy on US soil as soon as possible and when he is -”

“We need a deal.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think he’ll cooperate? Has the wife given any indication of that when you uh, spoke to her?”

“I think he has to. Fuck, Blue, for this to work then he has to. I need his testimony.”

You look at Javi. For a moment you’re taken aback to some of your initial thoughts about him in Bogotá; that he looked like Atlas with the weight of the world on his shoulders. How is it possible he looks even more burdened now?

“Let’s get it then. I’ll work on the paperwork while you arrest him.”

He’s covered in sweat, a grim smile on his face. The pink shirt he was wearing this morning, the one you thought looked infuriatingly good on him, is darkened with sweat.

“He’s arrested then?” you ask cautiously. You’d heard that Javi’s original plan to arrest him within the grounds of the bank was shut down by the police; apparently that wasn’t how things were done in Curacao. From Javi’s appearance it’s clear a chase has taken place.

Javi nods, running a hand through his sweaty hair and you wonder how easy the arrest was for him and the team. “We’re getting the plane ready and we’re going straight to Miami. The Ambassador said the extradition papers were set? Have you updated Justice?”

You point at a pile of papers in front of you. While Javi’s appears to have been chasing Jurado all around Curaçao, you’ve been stuck in this room typing up briefs and motions in preparation.

“We should have everything we need. I spoke to the Ambassador earlier and then the team in Miami before you came in and we’re all set,” you say, stifling a yawn as you stretch your legs. You’ve been sitting for too long.

You hand Javi your glass of water. He looks like he needs it more than you and he gratefully accepts, gulping it down. You try not to notice the rivulets of sweat on his neck as he does that.

“Have you spoken to Stoddard about the wife? The moment the cartel knows, Javi, they will - and if I were Franklin, I wouldn’t have a deal unless she was included and safe.”

“I know, I’m calling now. We’ve got to get this all in place before they know we have him.”

   It feels like you barely have time to collect your thoughts before you’re on a plane with Javi and Franklin Jurado on your way back to the United States.

You hear snippets of Javi’s conversations with Franklin as you walk back from the bathroom but you’re not paying attention to what is said. Instead you are intent on using the flight time to get ahead on the many other briefs and motions you need to complete, to test out the exact wording of the plea deal with Franklin Jurado, to complete the plans and decision trees for Justice and Jurado’s lawyers just in case.

You miss the courtroom.

You’ve realised that’s where you shine, where you feel able to most make a difference. This job, as varied, as unexpected as it is, is a step removed from that. It’s more about diplomacy, about briefings and managing interested parties and application of the law but not in a courtroom, not where you feel most at ease.

You can’t regret this job. There are so many parts where you feel you are adding value and you needed to leave DC regardless. This was the right decision.

Javi gets up from his seat, walking over and leaning over you from the aisle. You immediately put your file down and look at him.

“We’re landing in a few minutes. You ready for this, Blue? Is the deal ready?”

“Oh yes,” you say with a slight smile, “Now you’re in my wheelhouse, Javi.”

“Looking forward to it,” he says in a low voice.

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#javier peńa #javier peña x reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x you #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x you #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña fanfiction #javi peña x reader #javi pena x you #javier pena x reader #narcos fanfiction #*secret smile

[0celesteisthebest0]

Gold Rush

Summary: Sometimes things in life are unfair. Sometimes love doesn’t prevail

Word count: 5,733

Pairing: Javier Peña x female reader (no y/n)

Request by @swiftpascal , thank you for your patience and your support Vi! I hope that you like the finished work!

Authors notes: Hi guys!! Aaaaaaa this is my first fic of the year! I hope there is a lot more to come this year 🥰 This is something that is a little different than my other work and I hope that I did my best! Mind the warnings because this is chock full of angst. But yeah I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading 💕💓🫶

Warnings: Angst/ no happy ending, Javier’s POV, Shifting POV, angst and I mean a lot of it, friends with benefits situations, complicated feelings on both parts, P in V, Dirty talk, praise kink?, overstimulation, unrequited love, oral sex, and slight canon divergence.

——<><>—<><>——

Javier learned this early on, it was a lesson that was repeated to no avail. 

The world was cruel. The intentions of those you thought you could trust could flicker in seconds. He was jealous of those who were able to hold on to hope throughout the years. That even through exceeding circumstances, the hope to keep going through the motions wasn’t scrutinized.

He's tried to but time and time again that hope flickers. Especially at moments like these. Right back in the eye of the storm. The place where all his nightmares formed.

Back at Bogotá, back in the deep pile of bureaucratic bullshit and the countless lives that were viewed as indispensable. He could just hear his fathers words in his head when he set foot in the embassy building again. 

“Don’t try to change it. Most likely the world will change you.”

He never did listen, did he.

——<><>—<><>——

“He's interested in you, don’t you know, I saw him giving you eyes earlier when you were giving him papers,” Katie continued to badger you about the personal life you had no interest in dealing with at the moment. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to have a relationship. You did…things were always in the way. 

As Katie continued to give you her evidence for the affection of an Agent Feistl, your focus was on the numbers of the elevator increasing after each floor as you waited for it to open and let the two of you in. The rumble of your stomach also gave you more important things to think about rather than having to hear Katie ramble about nonsensical ideas regarding flirting in the embassy. You skipped out on breakfast again and the thought of taking an early lunch became more appealing.

“Pin it Katie, what do you want to eat for lunch, we can talk about all your little theories then,” you grinned at her and she smiled amused that you were actually going to talk to her about this stuff again. 

“It’s rude to cut me off when I’m on a roll y’know?” She huffed and was going to continue her ramblings that you grew familiar with. “I’m just trying to urge you to pay attention to him so you might finally get out of your shell.”

You rolled your eyes at that statement and the elevator doors creaked open. The two of you were entering the room in sync when the familiar voice of Agent Stoddard greeted the two of you with a wide smile. 

“Good morning,” Katie chirped at him but your attention was drawn to the strong nose of one Javier Peña. He looked so different yet the same and you couldn’t quite believe that he was back. You heard through the grapevine of course that he’s been promoted but you thought you would have more time. More time in remaining composed around him and not cracking against the stare of his dark brown eyes. The words of Katie hit your ears and you continued to stare at his broad back that filled the suit jacket. 

No more half buttoned short sleeves instead he switched them out for the proper suits that you’d see the higher ups would wear. It seems so strange to reminsee over the past when he was right here. 

Stoddard’s voice breaks your haze and asks Javier a question as the elevator door closes shut. “Sir, can I ask?” Javi’s head tilted towards him in a mixture of intrigue and annoyance. “What was Escobar like?”

“Never met him.” He rasped out and that deep voice made you shut your brain. Javier’s hand twitched to the side and you did your best to zone back into the conversation with Katie but she seemed to be staring at you intensely. 

She tilted her head towards Javi and you stared anywhere but him. Well you tried to but the curiosity that bit at your neck made you gaze back to him. A magnetic pull to him that you could never fight. 

You made eye contact with him briefly and even more memories flooded your being.The way in which you were able to unravel under his gaze in seconds. FIngers pumping in and out of your being and the soft praise he would whisper in your ears hitting you in the present again. 

The silence and stuffiness of the elevator was getting to you and the trained glare of Javier was making your body sweat. You avoided him again and asked Stoddard for a different floor. Hopefully you were able to escape into the secluded bathrooms of the third floor without needing to go back to your responsibilities.

The elevator doors creaked open again and you murmured to the agents a quick goodbye. The last thing you saw was his dark eyes, flooding with memories that you can’t forget.

——<><>—<><>——

Every hour he spent in Colombia was a reason to drink. From the people praising him for being the agent who was a part of the Escobar raids, to being confirmed again and again by Stechnor that he was just a face. A pawn to the larger scheme of unnecessary interference of other countries governmental structures. His part here was miniscule and he couldn’t change anything.

Stechnor already reminded him of that fact as he tried to decompress from the obstacles of the first day. Right in this bar, he just couldn’t get peace from the constant bureaucratic garbage that he didn’t appreciate before he left.

The words of his father continued to echo in his ear and the drinks were just making it clearer. He needed something to satiate the wounds that were marked deep within him, something that would forget the tainted word of “hero” that so many tossed around when they were around him. He dug in his suit jacket for the pack of cigarettes that he craved now more than ever when he heard that familiar laughter that tugged his chest. He couldn’t help but turn to look at you, your eyes glimmered in the dim bar lights and the turning of his stomach was making him sick. You were surrounded by others from the office, your smile was so bright and your wit was always so quick. He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t miss you. That he didn’t imagine you in his bed like those brief moments in the past. That seeing you smile right now, made him crave something more than the smell of cigarette smoke.

Javier bit his tongue at the thought and your stare from earlier made him sigh. It wasn’t as bright and vulnerable as it is right now. The vacancy and regret made his fingers twitch and grab his cigarette pack tighter. 

He should go talk to you. But that hesitancy you had in the elevator lingered and he couldn’t quite let that go. Stoddard barked out a laugh that led to Javi's eyelid to twitch. It seems that one day he wanted to be alone and away from everything work related it appeared right in front of him. He drank the rest of the whiskey and decided to go talk to you even if it was in front of others at the office.

As he walked towards the group, your eyes raked his figure immediately and Katie stopped her conversation with Stoddard almost immediately.

“Peña, glad to see you’re done sulking,” Katie tried to joke about the sudden interest in the group. Her lips curled upward and her nails tapped against the table. 

“Curiosity got to me. Wanted to see what the laughter was about,” he scratched his chin lightly and turned to see you, trying to avoid him but also interested in what he was doing. 

“Sir we assumed you wouldn’t want to come today-“ Stoddard stumbled through his words to explain why most of the office was there and he wasn't. Honestly he didn’t care for the excuse, the boss never came with him or Steve when he was just an agent. He halted him from continuing.

“It’s alright Stoddard,” he turned away from your uneasy stare. “Things are gonna pick up from here so just…” he stared at you a little hopeful. “Enjoy yourselves.”

“You aren’t going to stay Sir?” Katie asked at the somewhat impulsive need to come talk to them. She seemed more interested in what he was doing than you were but he guesses time just changes certain things. 

“No, have a good night,” he turned away towards his forgotten seat to pick up his jacket and tie. The bartender walked past him again asking him if he wanted another drink but he stalled for a minute before responding in quick spanish telling him to give a round to the table in the back. As the bartender readied the drinks, he paid his tab and left the bar. The tension in his shoulders increased as he felt the warm outside air, and the craving for touch nipped his neck.

Nip it in the bud and just smoke something to calm down. He quickly lit the cigarette and took a slow drag of the nicotine that slowly coursed through his veins. It was able to cloud his mind momentarily and smooth the tension building between his brows. 

“You left without letting us say thank you, Peña,” your voice cut through the clouded feeling. He took another drag of the cigarette and eyes you slowly. Your arms were crossed, your fingers messed with the sleeves of your dress shirt. 

“Thought you were avoiding me,” he muttered out not wanting to deal with the small talk that he was so familiar with nowadays. 

You didn’t say anything after that comment other than staring at his features with a squint. He didn’t budge from the position he was in and continued to smoke the rest of his cigarette without a care of what tomorrow might bring. 

“I was,” you remarked quietly, not staring at him head on like you did initially. “Javi, I didn’t expect you to come back.” The words fumbled out of you slowly and he knew there was something more that you were holding onto. 

“Is that a bad thing?” He muttered, eyes trained on you to see if you would make any sudden movements. 

All you did was huff out a sigh and turn your head towards the sidewalk. “You should be asking yourself, Javi.”

He stilted for a minute, a minute too long for your liking it seems, because you started to change the subject.

“Congrats on the promotion by the way… and thank you again for the drinks. Have a goodnight.” You said, unsure of yourself, but started to walk off alone and he instantly started to move to your side. He wasn’t ready to let this go and there was something in the air telling him to do something.

“Your poker face has been better, Brazil,” the nickname flowed out of him in a way that he didn’t expect. You immediately stopped in your tracks of the nickname that he always teased you with. 

“Don’t call me that Javi,” your voice came out breathier than you intended. The nickname that always seemed to make you smile had the opposite effect. He honestly didn’t expect the small joke between you, him, and Steve to last so many years without resentment but now it seems to have ended. Nevertheless, Javi pushed through that bubbling anger.

“Why not? Talk to me Brazil, what’s wrong?” You huffed again and that unsteady breath from before made you stutter out the next words.

“You never called Javi,” his breathing stopped with how open you were towards him, “maybe I expected too much but I thought you’d call.”

Clearly he believed something different regarding your emotions towards him and right now those shimmering bright eyes from before we’re fighting tears.

“I’m sorry,” he knows what he said fell flat. How could he explain to you that he thought it was for the best that he didn’t say anything to you. That this relationship was something that could be manipulated. That this couldn’t work no matter how much he wanted it to. That you deserve someone better.

But he knew you didn’t want to hear that. Instead his hands moved your face to look at him to try and show he meant it. That he wants to repent for his cowardice.

“Let me make it up to you,” you bit your lip at the thought. Your check was warm against the palm of your hand and you nodded for him to continue his thought. “Is that alright baby?”

The tension decreased from your shoulder and you let out a deep shaky breath. With a nod, he moved closer to your forehead, pressing a gentle kiss to your skin.

The past craving for the touch of skin was sated momentarily but he knew with you he craved more and his apology wasn’t over.

——<><>—<><>——

Hurried movements were carrying you to your apartment, Javier guiding you to your room at a quick speed. Clothes were removed hastily in the pursuit of heated skin against one another, Javier left you craving everything and you were having an internal debate over this fact. 

The rage and hurt bubbled in your chest for those days and months he was away. It was silly to believe what you felt could be more but yet…

The sincerity in his big brown eyes lured you in and now you were diving headfirst in the pools of pleasure that he promised you. The apology he couldn’t say through words, instead he said them through each searing kiss he planted against your lips. The teeth that nipped at your lip and bit down to make your whimper in a mix of pain and pleasure. 

His deep voice rumbled in satisfaction from the noises he pulled and brought you closer to his being. His hands moved your hips to sit on his lap, moving them on his growing length that was still clothed from the tight dress pants he has on. His hands moved from your hips to your breasts. Rough fingers pinching the growing buds of your nipples, making you whine against him as his wet mouth continued to assault your neck. Your hips started to grind against his thigh in hopes to get friction against your clit.

“Let me feel you baby,” one of his hands continued to squeeze your breast while the other moved down to feel the wetness that dripped in your inner thighs. His fingers were covered in your slick and he continued to rub his hand against your entrance causing you to whine for him. 

“Stop teasing me Javi,” you huffed out, getting even more frustrated than before. He chuckled before letting two fingers go inside you with relative ease. “Oh fuck Javi keep going.”

He didn’t stop and his palm was grinding against your clit making the orgasm crash down on you. You gripped his shoulders to keep you steady as his fingers continued to pump in and out of you. 

“I’m not done apologizing, hands and knees, let me make you feel good,” he bit your earlobe to emphasize his point and patted your ass to get you moving out of his lap and at the center of the bed. You obliged, craving more of him and your anger with him dissolving by the seconds. He did something to you that you couldn’t understand, where just being around him made you feel at ease. Even though he didn’t call back you held onto the moments you had with him.

Javi slapped your ass and you moaned out in surprise. He grabbed your ass tight and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed. “You gonna be good for me sweetheart.”

“Javi,” you couldn’t take it anymore, your inner thighs were dripping and he kept pulling you from what you really wanted. 

Him.

“Answer me baby, you gonna be my good girl tonight?” You whimpered out a reply, overwhelmed by his voice. “With words.”

“Yes Javier,” it was breathy when you said it and he seemed pleased with you. 

He grunted something you couldn’t quite hear and heard him rip the foil of a condom. You felt the tip of his length at your entrance and you moved slightly to accommodate his size.  

“Fuck you’re so wet,” the tip of his member slowly pushing into your entrance. You gripped the sheets tight as he slowly inched inside you. 

A shaky breath and a loud whimper was all that you let out as he buried himself in you. He snapped his hips against you and you nearly crumbled against the bed. Grasping onto the sheets to steady yourself from his hard pace. His grunts mixed with your unsteady moans. His strong palms held your hips tight as he started slow thrusts in and out if you.

“Ah- Javi,” you were craving something more and he started quickening his pace making you wail out in surprise. He was able to read what you wanted in seconds and you chalked it up to him being an agent but maybe it was something more.

Fuck what if it was something more. The thought of it crawled up your spine and the pressure of pleasure was reaching its point. This feeling causes your arms to buckle and the side of your face pressed up against the sheets. 

“I can’t-“ you whimper out, tears starting to stream down your cheeks. The position he had you in was deeper than before and the need to cum was overwhelming. You were teetering over the edge, unable to let go. “I-“ his pace quickened as the pleas left your mouth.

“Come on sweetheart,” his deep voice rough from over exertion. His fingers were bruising your hip with how hard he held you. The pounding sensation of your heart was heightened from his thick fingers reaching between where both of you were connected. His fingers rubbed at your clit, making your thighs shake. You let out a loud whine and the building pressure snapped.

You shattered in two as he continued to thrust into you, telling you praise as he joined you in the overwhelming pleasure that was Javier. He grunted as he thrusted one more into you, slightly off beat from his previous movements. The room was filled with shaky breaths and your body slumped deeper in the bed. Javi’s lips meet your sweaty back and he kisses your spine in appreciation. He slowly pulls out in the process and you hiss at the emptiness. 

“Goddamn you’re beautiful,” you felt him shift behind you, what you assumed was removing the condom and quickly cleaning up the mess. What you didn’t expect was Javier’s mustache tickling your inner thigh. He sucked the soft flesh making you whimper slightly. “Tell me to stop if it’s too much.”

“Please,” that was all he needed you to say as his mouth delved into your wet and overstimulated folds. His tongue darted to lick up your arousal and he groaned, shoving his face deeper into your sex.

You couldn’t help but cry out in pleasure as he got lost in the essence of you. Javier’s dig into your hips and continued to happily lap you up. The sting of overstimulation was growing to its breaking point and the suck of your clit made you lose any sense of control leading you to the brink once again.

Gold blinded your sight as Javier’s grunting faded into the background. The shimmering feeling made you slump into the bed and gently bat away Javier from your folds. He chucked quietly at the little motion but he understood ultimately and his fingers slowly moved to your back to ease any tension. 

Fuzziness encompassed your muscles and Javier’s warm hands felt warm in the sweat that covered your body in a sheen. Javi murmured something to you that you couldn’t hear through your tired state. He didn’t seem to want to repeat himself so you turned to look at him staring at you intently. His brows pinched in the middle and you knew he was heavy in thought.

“Javi,” your voice cracked in exhaustion, “what’s wrong?”

His signature frown furrowed and he got you to move to your side so you wouldn’t comment about his sour mood. Javier laid next to you, pulling you close to his middle, the feeling of his relatively soft touch compared to the grip he held on our hips. 

“Don’t worry about me,” he muttered quietly, his voice sounded like it could just unravel in any moment. “Get some rest,” he nudged his nose against your neck, making your already aching body shiver slightly from the motion. 

“Are you going to stay?” he used to stay til breakfast in the past but… was it a question you shouldn’t have asked? Even in your growing tired state, you just wanted a blunt answer to all the confusing feelings you held with Javier. 

“Do you want me to?” Another question…that you didn’t know the answer to. 

You sighed quietly and the now too quiet room. There was a voice in your head to hold on to that feeling before, the one where looking at him acting like nothing has changed between the two of you made you furious. You wanted to hold onto it tight but you just…couldn’t.

“I do,” it was barely a whisper but he held onto you tighter once you spoke those thoughts aloud.

He hummed and traced your skin in a slow pattern. Etching himself on your skin until you no longer recognized yourself. 

His weight was like a blanket of comfort that shielded you from this cruel world. Warm and steady and slowly your body fell apart under his warm arms that wrapped around you tight for the night. There were rarely nights where you felt like this, like something prized or worth something and falling into sleep with pleasure tinging your bones was delightful.

Shifting and pulling to and fro. Mending and melting to you bed until you were taken apart over and over again

A shift.

Another pull and a tug, into the being you once were.

A shift, a pull, and a tug, back to earth and slowly this momentous feeling lost its rhythm and the smoke screen of comfort was pulled from you as the golden rays hit your window. You weren’t fully awake but you felt that pleasant weight lift from you.

Moving of clothes and a flick of a lighter told you he was awake but you still felt like you were between realms. You did your best to turn to see what was happening but all that your drowsy eyes were registering was the drag of smoke that Javi puffed out solemnly.

His eyes met yours and they wavered.

A shift pulled you closer to his shadowed silhouette. 

“Close your eyes, you got a couple more hours,” he commented.  

“Javi, what are you doing,” he took another drag. Slowly he moved towards the bed and to you, depositing his cigarette in the ashtray on the nightstand near your bed.

His thumb rubbed your forehead and he slowly placed a kiss on your forehead, comfort surging your sleepy body. 

“You don't have to worry about me, get another hour baby,” he murmured into your skin and moved too quickly for your liking. 

You were going to argue, your body was telling you to, but the tired sensations and the night of pleasure were weighing you to the bed. Maybe another hour wasn’t such a bad idea.

Maybe…

A shift, a pull, and a tug led you to sleep dreaming of Javier’s warm body once again. But there was a sensation of emptiness beside you that didn’t satiate that heat from before. You kept tossing and turning and coming in and out of sleep.

You continued to be in and out of realms, not sure as to what was a dream and what was reality. All you could really do was reach out to the empty spot beside your bed…

The dreams no longer bleed into one another and the sensation that claws your throat returns in full force. The bed was empty and your stomach was turning into knots at the feeling you knew a little too well.

Javier left without saying goodbye.

Maybe this was just letting off steam like it was all those years back. 

——<><>—<><>——

Gilberto Rodríguez, one of the top men of Cali. The man who got caught, the man who he was able to catch even with the corruption of the American and Colombian governments. 

But before it was the men of Cali it was Escobar. 

The only thing that Javier could compare between these two ruthless groups of men were the same. They reminded him too much of the story of King Midas. Javier was somewhat young when he heard the tale of the greedy king but the story stuck with him now.

The inherent greed of these men that led them down a world cold and gold. Everything they touch gets polluted and so many lives are lost everyday.

He can’t help but ask himself when will this end? When will they understand that it’s about so much more than greed and power. When he was younger and learning of all the tales and myths of the past he never thought he would be here in a sham war, fighting tooth and nail to get what he thought was justice to this world. 

The world kept changing in ways he didn’t understand and this included with the Narcos and the corruption that has been laid on his chest.

Day in and day out he continued to work tirelessly to find the soft spot of these supposed kings. 

Javier couldn’t help but wrap himself in the idiosyncrasies of stories and realities to cope. Especially now with another stress that was plaguing his life.

You.

He was holding off for a good reason, it was for your safety after all. But he couldn’t help but feel regret with every single thing he does interacting with you. Being hot and cold, leaving without saying goodbye.

It nagged at him anytime he saw you in the office. The nagging sensation grew into a need that he kept trying to push down so it wouldn’t linger. But it kept growing into a horrible beast of jealousy. This was what he wanted…well it wasn’t what he wanted but it was what needed to be done. 

You, six feet away from the constant hurricane that was Javier Peña. 

But god it was so fucking hard for him to not stare anytime you passed files to Katie or to give soft touches to Feistl. It moves so fast from him and those nights together in your bed that fateful night linger in the air when he's in the office too late. 

He should’ve stayed that night, he keeps thinking about that and the regrets just pile on. But seeing you everyday makes him need you more and more. Why couldn’t this just be easier?

It's the question that keeps bubbling in his mind the farther and farther you get from him. He feels you giving him the cold shoulder after the hurried night together and each day he keeps cycling through this purgatory of finding these drug lords away from the eye of the CIA.

And everyday he sees you slipping away from him and everyday he wonders why he couldn’t just tell you what's on his mind and why it's so difficult for him to say something.

So he just waits and admires from far away as it seems to him you are moving on from the mess that is him. First it was the soft little touches he noticed Feistl gave you then it was you staying with Feistl in late hours of the office. 

You congratulated him on Gilberto and kept it as cordial as possible between the two of you and it ached. It didn’t matter if he felt so much for you, you clearly wanted nothing to do with him but he should tell you…

He couldn’t let his feelings get locked in the battered suitcase he leaves in his empty apartment, but the danger of admitting it all was still hanging in the air. 

His mind was fickle in these moments, the adrenaline from the sweat filled forest still leaving a thick fog in his brain. Work was still a huge focus in his mind that he had to keep in line with, getting the proper flight to Miami to lead the wife of his witness to testify in court. To finally catch Miguel and be able to end the Cali cartel once and for all. To finally do something right. 

It was the thing that was tumbling through his mind as his feet moved on their own to your apartment. He had to finally do something, to talk to you, to not just let this flicker and pull apart into threads he couldn’t he couldn’t tie back together. 

So there he stood, at your door, knocking slowly and waiting for the sparks of nerves to reach his veins. There was conversation behind the door before you opened it, your face's easy expression contorted into something that he didn’t want to be at the end of. Sadly, Javier knew he wasn’t a lucky man. 

There was an abrupt silence as you stared at him, mouth closing and opening, not knowing what to say. Your eyes were fixed on his, watering slightly and he realized his mistake as soon as he saw those tears starting to form.

“Why are you here Javier,” your voice was surprisingly steady. 

Your brows furrowed from his lack of reasons spewing from his mouth. His mind was yelling at him to do so many different things at once, making him overwhelmed.

“I wanted…” he huffed in frustration and just shook his head. He was too late, he knew whatever he’d try right now was a last ditch effort to fix what he’s done wrong. But he was too late... ”I should’ve called.”

You huffed out, slightly annoyed that he was bringing this up again, but you centered your breath to tell him off. “You should’ve done a lot of things Javi but you didn’t. And I can’t keep asking for reasons why you-”

Your frustrations were interrupted by a familiar voice calling for you in your apartment. “Sweetheart, come back in.”

Feistl’s voice echoed in his ears as his voice cemented the end of his hope. You replied back to him but he couldn’t bring himself to hear you through his turbulent thoughts. 

“I should go,” he sighed, knowing that it didn’t matter what he did now. He should’ve done it sooner. Javier turned down your hallway to give you a private moment with Feistl, he needed to leave you alone once and for all.

“Don’t run away from me Javier,” your voice was stronger than before, echoing in the hall. “Why are you here? Please… I can’t keep wondering why you left.”

The sincerity made him freeze and the feeling burning in his chest was making him panic. He didn’t know what to say to you, you were an Achilles heel to his hidden heart. A soft spot to his hardened life. You were attached to him in a way where removing you was lethal.

He moved closer to you, holding your shoulders to support his failing heart, and finally looked at your bright teary eyes.

“I care about you,” he spoke quietly, not knowing if all his jumbled thoughts would come out. “But you deserve better than me and…”

You found it. 

He wanted you so bad but you knew that you deserved better. 

“I can’t- I can’t ruin what you found,” Javier said with much more force than before. You sighed out quietly and he couldn’t help but rub at your shoulder in sympathy. “I’m sorry, I should go,” Javier stuffed his hands in his leather jacket, to finally remove the need to touch you. 

He didn’t know what else to say to you as you stood there eyeing him with remorse and hope on what could’ve been. You stood in place as he turned to leave. The echo of his dress shoes tapping at the old tiles hummed in his ears as he rubbed at his face in stress. 

The steps of another followed after him as he reached towards the stairs. He knew it was you but he didn’t know it was best to turn and see your teary eyes. But he turned towards you and your furrowed brow. 

“I loved you too Javi… I loved you too” you muttered the words he couldn’t say out loud. “Goodbye Javi.”

You left him near the stairs alone, finally leaving him first this time. 

A shaky sigh left his being and he rummaged through his jacket for his pack of cigarettes.

You loved him.

And he messed it up.

“Fuck,” he cursed in silence, and stared down the spiraled staircase. Spiraling thoughts and overwhelming him. 

He never did listen, and now he was sinking in the turbulence of his own emotions. The golden feeling when he thought of you turning into a bitterness rushing down his throat. 

His thumb flicked at his lighter to light his cigarette. Javier closed his eyes slowly breathing in the smoke and reorienting his heart to go back to the bureaucratic bullshit of his life.

His feet dragged him down the spiral staircase and took him out to the streets of Colombia. Something that plagued his mind in the dark of night. 

The growing connection he's had with the narcos has corrupted him. Corrupted him beyond a normal life and has changed every sector of his life.

The world was cruel, he’s learned his lesson but this time it hurt more than before.

You loved him, yet he ruined it.

He huffed out the smoke and hoped that whatever came next would soothe the ache of his heart. 

It seems like everything he touched would be tinted in sadness. Unlike the narcos who touched countries, stripping them of their resources and corrupting them into a cold metallic gold that would abide by their rules, his touch corrupted something else entirely.

Love and all its hopeful elements.

Always a lifetime’s away from reach. 

#angst #no happy ending #javier peña x reader #javier peña x f!reader #smut #my fanfiction #javier peña #narcos fanfiction #javier peña fanfiction

[cowboy-turtle]

Fabric Softener

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!Reader

Words: 2.9k

Tags: Smut: body worship, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv; food mention; alcohol...honestly I think that's it, this shit is soft fluff with feelings

A/N: A birthday gift to the bestie @queen0fchaos who requested something soft. Her birthday was actually yesterday but we gatekept this for 24 hours for her enjoyment lmao. Happy birthday to the best co-author, beta reader, member of the horny jail gang, and queen of the Javi sluts. There's no one else I'd rather cry with over that man. Love you bestie ❤️

You can’t believe you have to work on your birthday, the pile of paperwork in your incoming pile seemingly never ending. Your legal pad is covered in chicken scratch notes from the meeting that just ran over into lunch and you know you still need to transcribe them on the typewriter, whenever you can find the time on this jam-packed day. You had to cancel Colleen's invitation to treat you out to lunch just to catch up, the sad excuse of a sandwich from the cafeteria sitting untouched on a pile of thick manila folders. One folder sits in your hands now, but the words swim across your vision as you reread the same tragic sentence over and over. In your peripheral you watch fingers slide across your meeting notes, following the wrist to the rolled up sleeve, up the square cut of a broad shoulder and into the quickly assessing eyes of a certain DEA agent.

You swat his hand away. “That’s classified information,” you warn, but the teasing edge to your voice makes him smile. He knows this very same intel will be sprawled out on your coffee table later tonight anyway, when you inevitably take work home with you.

“So,” you muse, closing your folder with the end of your pen, “to what do I owe the pleasure, agent?”

You click the pen shut to signify he has your undivided attention, leaning into your chair to create office-appropriate distance. Work relationships were highly discouraged, so you know you’re toying the line of safety with the flirtatious smile edging across your lips. His hands grip the edge of your desk as he leans towards you, head tilting to mask a secret.

“I have classified information for you as well,” he says, and you grab a stack of sticky notes as he chuckles. “I heard it’s someone’s birthday.”

You shoot him a look and he grins at you fondly, lowering his voice further. “Happy birthday, querida.”

“Thank you, Agent Peña,” you say rather loudly, Colleen passing by your desk on her way back from lunch. He clears his throat, straightening up as he raps his knuckles against your desk with a terribly concealed smirk. He quirks a brow towards you, an I’ll see you later? that you respond to with a tiny nod, already flipping your folder back open while he disappears back to business.

The next time you remember to look up the office is much emptier, the last occupied cubicle in your area clicking their desk lamp off as they shuffle out the door with a weary goodbye. You yawn and stretch, the ever-ticking clock on the wall pointing out that any dinner plans you could have made are shot. Javier hadn’t checked in on you on his way out, so you can only assume he was dragged away for field work.

That’s why you’re a little concerned when light shines from underneath your door when you trudge down the worn carpet of the hallway. The creak of the old hinges announces your arrival, and you relax into a laugh when Javier’s head pops up behind the open fridge door.

“There she is,” he smiles. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

You can’t school the surprise in your voice. “Dinner? You cooked?”

A timer dings and he fights a grin, playful spark in his eye. “Does heating up food from El Cielo count?”

You flush at the dopey smile that threatens to pull at your cheeks. He’d picked up dinner from the very first restaurant you’d gone out to together, when he had passed your desk late one evening and was surprised to still find you there. He insisted on getting you some food nearby, your empty stomach betraying you when it rumbled in agreement. The night had progressed to his fingers skimming your knuckles resting on the table, eyes crinkling as he listened to you talk about your family back home. The bottle of wine you shared loosened you into such a sense of companionship it felt almost inevitable when you ducked into a dark recess together on the walk home, his lips brushing yours until you tilted your head up in offering.

Because of course you would offer him anything. How could you not? Especially with how he smiles at you fondly now, nodding towards your cabinets.

“Help me with the plates?”

The familiar smell of the arroz con pollo you shared that first night wafts from your oven as Javi opens it with mitted hands, the thoughtfulness not lost on you as you help him dish up dinner.

You’re sighing into your dining chair much later, warmed by a good meal and a generous pour in your glass, when Javi raises his whiskey.

“Happy birthday, mi reina,” he toasts, clinking his glass to yours. You drain the last sip left and then groan, rubbing your eyes. He watches as you scoot back, on your way to the couch and your briefcase of paperwork when gentle fingers stop your wrist, pulling you back towards him. You start to protest but he shushes you softly, easing you onto his lap.

“You work too hard, cariño,” he murmurs as you sink back into the solidness of his chest. “Let me take care of you tonight.”

You groan, his rubbing hands across your shoulders sliding up to find a knot in your neck that he kneads.

“But the reports—”

“Will be there tomorrow,” he finishes for you. “Let me celebrate you, okay?”

“What exactly does that entail?” you mumble into the hollow of his neck, already feeling yourself dissolve into the steady pressure of his touch.

You feel him smile against the crown of your head. “Have you ever been treated to birthday sex?”

You snort, thinking he’s joking. “What makes it any different from normal sex?”

His hands stop their adoration of your skin as he leans away to look at you, deep mock hurt etched in his eyes. “You really haven’t?”

You give him a look, confused. “Okay, and what’s the big deal?”

He closes his eyes, his head shakes saying Well, that just won’t do. He leans off the chair to hook an arm under your knees, other hand steady on your back as he lifts you without warning. You gasp out his name, gripping onto his neck as he starts walking.

“It’s much better, querida,” he insists, carrying you into your bedroom. “It’s the best.”

You roll your eyes, indulging him as he lays you down gently onto your mattress. He eases your shirt up and over your shoulders, sitting down to press his lips in slow kisses to your neck and collarbone as you card your fingers through his hair, mussing up the neat way he’d styled it this morning. Your eyes drift with a sigh as his tongue lathes over your bra, wetting the fabric to press it against your pebbling nipple. You stop him then, drawing his head away as he looks up at you staring at the chair in the corner of your room where you usually keep your dirty clothes in a heap.

“Did you do my laundry?”

He looks like you just caught him trying to steal a cookie, his attempt at playing it off amusing. “I had a lot of time on my hands waiting for you, cariño,” he shrugs, “I know you’ll tell me if I fucked it up.”

You laugh because he’s right. You absolutely would. He knows this from experience, having liked the way his shirts smelled when you returned them washed after he’d left them at your place. He tried to return the favor with the expensive blouse you’d forgotten on his bedroom floor, but it came back to you shrunken around the stomach and stretched out at the shoulders. He joined you in the basement laundry room with his own basket the next time you had a load, wanting to see what he did wrong. He held up your fabric softener then, eyeing it incredulously.

“The fuck is this?”

You thought he’d been joking, but the man had truly never used it in his life. Why do I need to waste my money on a bottle of something that doesn’t even wash my clothes? he insisted, setting it back into your pile. My clothes are just fine.

But that night, after you draped your freshly-washed quilt still warm from the dryer over him lying on the couch, you swore you heard him burrow into it when you were busy in the kitchen. He was promptly asleep when you returned, cheek pressed into the pillowy fabric. The next time you stole his faded Academy sweater during a night over, the fleece was much softer than you last remembered, the faint smell of a familiar product lingering on it. You wouldn’t be surprised if you found the same purple bottle you had hiding under his bathroom sink.

You like to think you had that effect on him, softening his edges and enveloping him in warmth any time he needed an escape from the harshness of the world.

He’s doing the same for you now, smoothing his hands up your sides and unclipping your unforgiving bra, sliding it off you to drop it onto the floor. He takes his time giving your breasts his undivided attention, cupping their weight in his calloused hands, pinching and rolling your nipples until he brings his mouth to them, a sigh fanning hot breath over them as his tongue darts out to taste.

He rids your lower half of clothes and sits up to admire you, letting his eyes crawl at a leisurely pace to drink you in. You shift to reach for his belt but he grasps your hands, shaking his head.

“Let me spoil you, princesa,” he whispers, “you deserve it.”

He ducks back down to worship your body, soft tongue and pillowy lips leaving kisses like small presents across your skin. He puckers against your palm, pulling it up to hold onto the back of his hair as he shuffles up, capturing your lips with his. You deepen the kiss, tilting your head to slide your tongue between his lips and he moans, pressing into you further. You feel his bulge pressing thick against your hip and move your hand to squeeze it when he pulls away with a huffed breath. You let out a quiet, impatient sound and he chuckles.

“Not yet,” he whispers. “Tonight is about you.”

He resumes the journey of his lips down your neck, a soft nip causing your breath to catch, down between the valley of your breasts and past your navel. He slides his hands up between your knees and parts them slowly, basking in the slow blossoming of your pussy opening up to him.

His mouth bends down to press against you tenderly, tongue slipping out to tease through you just enough for you to shudder under him. You breathe out his name, head lulling back as he begins making out with your cunt. He’s almost unhurried in his pursuit to get you to fall apart, enjoying the kisses and sucks that coat his mouth in you. He presses into you firmer, dark eyes flicking back up to your face at every gasp and sigh. Two of his thick fingers join the birthday party, sliding and curling into you enough to make your hips buck up off the bed. He chuckles, the vibrations coursing shocks of pleasure through your body as he presses a firm palm on your stomach to plant you back down. Soon you’re panting his name, his favorite sound in the world, fingers digging into the sheets as his tongue begins to speed up. You’re about to warn him you’re going to cum when it slams through you, locking you in place as you clamp down on his fingers with a cry. You gush around his tongue and he moans, mouth widening to lap you up until you tug on his hair to ease off you.

He renews the travels of his mouth across your body, pressing warm kisses to the soft of your thighs, the curve of your hip. He sits up then, eyes sparkling down at you in the soft lamplight from the opened doorway behind him, and starts unbuttoning his shirt. You lie there without offering to help, knowing he wants you to watch as his deft fingers work open his belt. He undresses fully in front of you, shuffling his knees to kick his pants fully off, his cock bobbing heavy against his stomach.

Then he finally, mercifully, lays down over you, crowding you with all of him, bearing himself open to you as his knees push yours farther apart. He enters you steadily, shallow thrusts of his hips slowly filling you inch by inch until his skin pressed flush against yours. He starts rocking into you, languid pace making you feel every ridge of him as it slid through your walls.

He fucks you slowly, and it’s like nothing you’ve experienced with him before. It’s deep and it’s tender, like he wants to take his time unraveling you, like he doesn’t want to rush the feeling of you hugging around him so tightly every time he drags into you. It’s not like the times he’s taken you in the evidence room, quick desperate escapades that leave you breathless but sated, or when you’re so impatient to rip each other’s clothes off you can’t even make it to the bedroom. No, this isn’t something akin to just fucking, the only way you can describe it pulls at a lump in your throat. Because this is making love.

And that’s not a word you’ve explored with Javier before, but there’s no better word to represent the way he’s looking at you so adoringly right now, the barriers he keeps for the outside world crumbling down in the safety of your shared bed.

He snakes his hand up to your arm, threading his fingers into yours above your head as he grinds his hips down, the coarse hair curling at his base rubbing against you enough to make you shudder underneath him. He smiles into the curve of your neck.

“Does that feel good, baby?”

“Yes, Javi,” you moan, “please, again.”

He shushes you softly, pressing his lips firmly onto yours.

“Anything you want, mi alma.”

He shuffles his knees higher, tilting your pelvis up as he grinds harder into you. You let out a breathless gasp, thighs tightening around him as he knocks against the perfect spot inside you, that only he’s been able to find because he knows you inside and out.

“Javi,” you whimper, “I...I…”

“I know,” he murmurs, eyes locking with yours. He nods above you, an unspoken plea to let him bear witness to the glory that was you coming undone. You reach up to hold his face, palm smoothing against the stubble of his cheek as he lets out a quiet sound. It’s the look in his eyes, the soft desperation that he was falling alongside you, that has you choke out a breath, sudden euphoria bursting through you. You cry out his name and his brows cinch, a low whimper from the deep of his chest catching in his throat, and then he tumbles down with you, thighs tensing with each jolt of bliss that ran through him and into you. Giving and giving and giving.

His forehead knocks against yours as he fights to catch his breath, yours just as wrecked as you sporadically shake and shiver beneath him from aftershocks. Eventually he slips out of you, dropping to your side and pulling you towards him. You could stay like this forever, but then he stiffens next to you, letting out a laugh.

“What is it?”

“I forgot,” he smiles. “There’s a cake in the fridge.”

When he can finally convince you to get up and enjoy it, you’re sharing a slice on the couch, forks dipping through the fluffy layers and thick frosting. He gets some on his lip, and when he can’t find it you lean forward, tongue offering help to lick it off. His own tongue darts out instead, teasing against yours until it blends the taste of him and frosting and the slightest hints of you in a soft moan you breathe into his mouth. He pulls you onto his lap, always wanting you to get closer. You think this part might just be his favorite thing, the skin to skin contact as you float down together from your shared bliss. And you’re not one to complain, the broad expanse of his warm skin pleasurable as you stretch and wrap yourself around it like a blissed out cat basking in their cherished sun.

“Did you have a good birthday, querida?”

“The best,” you smile lazily into his shoulder, drawing circles under his neck. “I think your present was my favorite.”

He chuckles. “Then I know what I’m getting you next year.”

Your stomach flutters. Next year. You hide your enamored smile in a kiss, curling your fingers up into his hair. “Well, what if I’d like my present again right now?”

A deep laugh rumbles against your chest as he nudges his nose against your cheek. “As you wish, princesa.” Your responding laugh is cut off by Javi flipping you down onto the couch, his mischievous smile twinkling in his eyes as he leans down to kiss you.

Javier was right, you think much later. Birthday sex is better.

#katie tag #javier peña x you #javier peña x reader #javier peña #narcos #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #javi peña x you #javi peña x reader #javi peña #pedro pascal character fanfiction

[acdeaky]

How about something special for your celebration ? Could you write a lil blurb YOU would like to write.... ? Select the prompts you love and the protagonist you want and.... Surprise me ? Love ya sweets and congrats again 💖💜

🥺🥺 my angel, thank you! i really wanted to do a javi one so, here it is! love you tons 🤍

13. “you're the most beautiful thing i've ever seen.”, 15. kiss on the shoulder and 3. at work

midnight moon

the embassy was quiet at night, almost too quiet. after hours always seemed to be the best time to get work done in this building. the majority of people had disappeared home to their families, spending another night with them with no promise of tomorrow. there were only a few workaholics left, and those with overdue paperwork.

you and javier had been sat at these three, pathetically, joined desks all day, looking over lead after lead as you promised yourself that you were getting closer to escobar. unfortunately, it seemed that you took one step forward with taking three steps back.

it hadn’t taken you long before you had declared that you needed a break, heading outside the embassy walls to have a breath of fresh air, the warm colombian night a pleasant change of pace to the seemingly almost freezing inside (after everyone went home, the warmth soon left the building). the warm cup of coffee and the starry night almost made you forget about the work you had to do inside.

as you stepped on the tiled floor, the clicking of your shoes grabbed javi’s attention as he looked up at you, a small smile on his face as he stubbed out his half used cigarette with one hand, the other bringing his whiskey glass up to his lips to finish off the drink.

“come here, mi amor.” he muttered, pushing his chair back as he opened his arms, inviting you to sit in his lap. you welcomed him quickly, making your way over to him, attracted like a magnet as you dropped your half empty coffee cup onto the desk in favour of wrapping your arms around javier’s neck.

“you're the most beautiful thing i've ever seen, cariño.” he whispered, dropping his head to press a kiss on your left shoulder, your body turned in the perfect position for him to kiss up your shoulder and into the crevice of your neck.

“you do flatter me, peña.” you giggled, nudging your shoulder to get javi to look up at you.

“i aim to please.” his smirk made you laugh, keeping your voice to a minimum as to keep your moment quiet and between you, as secret as it could be in a public setting.

“take me home?” you asked, pressing your forehead against his own.

“as long as we can continue this.”

“anything for you, guapo.”

guapo - handsome

#katie’s 1k blurb week #javier peña #javier peña x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #warriorteam1924 #👼🏼

[danidrabbles]

Reverie

Notes: Astrid, it has taken everything in me not to spoil this for you. I hope this continues my streak of me surprising you. And I hope I do Triumvirate justice 🥺

Reverie plays out in @javier-pena's Triumvirate universe, somewhere between Part 1 and Part 2 (which I hear is coming soon 👀).

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader x Katie

Rating: Explicit (18+!)

Word count: 4.1k

Warnings: established relationship, masturbation, threesome (f/f/m), light choking, orgasm delay, mentions of oral (f receiving)/piv sex/fingering/dirty talk, bi panic, crumbs of plot, perhaps...angst?, food mention. I think that’s it, let me know if there’s anything I should add!

--

“Are you sure?” you ask, voice strained, eyes still bleary.

You’re leaning against the doorway to Javier’s apartment building, the man in question standing outside, down the steps, with a brown suitcase. The early Friday sun is finally rising, visible between the two apartment buildings across the street, and it trickles through the large windows and into the hallway.

Javier sets his luggage down so he can reach up and caress your cheek, smiling as he strokes over the small creases his pillow left on your skin. “Yes, you can stay here,” he assures. “Have a fun weekend without me.”

With a single phone call at 6 am, the DEA had thrown a wrench into your very important weekend plans: Finally enjoying a weekend off with your boyfriend. They sprung a last minute trip to Cali on Javier—

“I gotta go, baby,” he mutters before pressing a kiss to your brow, then to your lips. “I need to be at the Embassy in a couple minutes and I still need to pick Katie up.”

—and Katie.

They would be gone for the weekend, something about important meetings with equally important people, about drug lords in Cali, sentencing, paperwork, budget—it really couldn’t wait. But the thought of being without your two favourite people in Colombia is distressing.

Javier had assessed it right when he thought you’d get along with Katie. Occasionally getting a coffee together turned into dinners, and movie nights, and daily lunches, because you like her and she’s excellent company. She has interesting opinions, she’s funny, she gets really passionate about fishing... and you’ll miss her too while she’s away for work.

“Be safe,” you tell Javier before pulling him in for another kiss, “and tell Katie I said ‘Hi’.”

“I will,” he promises, squeezing your hand. “I’ll call you.”

As he pulls away and turns to walk down the steps, his hand slips from yours. You lean your head against the doorpost and watch as he loads up his car before getting behind the wheel.

You don’t turn away until he disappears from view.

--

“I don’t believe you.”

Your lips curl into a smile as you hear Javier make a sound of protest on the other side of the line. He’s been gone a day and this is the first you heard of him since he left. It’s nice to hear his voice, to hear him talk about funny, mundane, hotel related things. Pinning the phone between your shoulder and your ear, you reach back to hold the kitchen counter before jumping on top of it.

“It’s true.”

With a scoff, you wrap the phone cord around your finger. “The DEA has never set you up in a place that offers massages, Javi. Are you sure that—”

“Health Club has 3 treatment rooms, including rooms for couples,” he interrupts, voice almost monotone as he reads from what you guess is a flyer from the hotel. “Services include deep-tissue massages, hot stone massages, Swedish massages and facials. A variety of treatment therapies are provided, including—”

“All right, all right, I believe you,” you laugh. “Enjoy your Swedish facial later.”

“Hey now,” he warns, a warm chuckle sailing through the receiver with a crackle.

What follows is a comfortable silence, and you hope he’s thinking the same thing about you as you do about him right now, that you—

“I miss you,” he says, and it makes something swirl in your stomach. “Bed’s empty without you.” There’s a sound on the other end of the line, a rustle that sounds like paper. “Maybe I should get some room service to keep me company; we had this cake for dessert today…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, simply hums to bring his approval across.

The sound makes you laugh, as does the thought of him enjoying some rest and eating good food on a work trip—a very rare luxury. “That good, huh?”

There’s a puff on the other side, no doubt from him taking a drag of his cigarette, and your smile only grows when he begins describing the cake to you—moist, chocolate cake, with dark drip chocolate running down the sides.

You groan in delight. “That sounds amazing. Katie and I had something like this a couple days ago, at the place we always have lunch at...” Your sentence trails off at the end, not because it’s a question for him to answer, or because you have more to say, but because it kicks your brain into gear to remember the conversation you had with Katie that day, and as you do, Javi’s reply arrives muffled, far away…

It was after lunch. After the laughter, and the conversation, and the chocolate cake. You were walking back to work, side by side in the Columbian heat, the Embassy already in sight. And for the life of you, you couldn’t remember what prompted her to say it, what you had been talking about before she said it.

“I… I think about you a lot.”

You were walking in the shadow to avoid the burning afternoon sun, but the admission immediately made it feel as if you weren’t. “How do you mean?” you asked, turning your head so you can look at her.

She did the same. “In the daytime,” she said. “Things that remind me of you. Did you know that there are posters for that movie you mentioned plastered all over the city?”

You made a non-committal sound, because you honestly couldn’t remember, couldn’t think of anything but how badly you wanted her to keep talking.

“But also at work, when I see Javi,” Katie said, tipping her head down to the pavement and smiling fondly. “He talks about you all the time, you know? And I recognize you in his stories now. He once told me that you fell off a chair you were standing on, because you wanted to reach the very top of your kitchen cabinets, and when we were at your place the other day I thought, ‘I get it now’ — your kitchen cabinets are unusually high...” she giggled.

You laughed with her, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding. She means she thinks about you like a friend would, the voice in your head provided. Of course she does.

“I can’t believe he told you that,” you said honestly. You remembered from the Embassy get together at the bar that Javi talked about you to her, but you didn’t know he told such... mundane stories about you.

The steady clicking of Katie’s heels on the pavement came to a stop, and you realized you reached the Embassy.

“Are you still there?” Javi’s voice cuts in. And you’re thankful for the interruption. It’s better not to think too much about what happened next. “I swear this connection—”

“I love you,” you say. “And I really fucking miss you, too.”

Javier is quiet on the other side. He clearly hadn’t expected to hear you reply with that, and with so much emotion. “I love you, too,” he says eventually, and it sounds like he wants to say more, like it’s unfinished. There’s another rustle on his side of the line, and then the faint sound of a voice far away from the horn. Javi replies (“Yeah. Okay. Yes, I’ll be right there.”) before he turns his attention back to you.

“I have to go,” he says around a sigh, and it makes it sound more like I’m sorry. “Just a couple more days, okay?”

Your heart aches. It always does in moments like this. When you’re reminded of what he does for a living, that he sometimes has to leave conversations unfinished—not because he’s a stubborn grump, but because he has to leave you like this. You don’t hate it, you love him for what he does, but that doesn’t mean it can’t break your heart a little.

“I know, Jav,” you reply.

“I love you,” he presses.

And then the line goes dead.

--

Sleep doesn’t come that night.

Javier’s sheets are cool thanks to the air conditioner that keeps the room at a pleasant temperature, and you turn on the pillow, pressing your nose into it with a frustrated sigh at your inability to at the very least doze off for a couple minutes.

Sleep doesn’t come, but thoughts do.

It’s even worse with the smell of him surrounding you. You didn’t realize you would miss him this much; you’re usually fine on your own. It must be because of the prospect of having a weekend with him, you reason. You had your sight set on being with him for an extended period of time, and that’s why you’re feeling this strongly about him being away.

On top of everything, you can’t call Katie, either. She’d be up for a chat, you think. She’s a good listener. She’d lend an ear to your lovesick lamenting, and her soothing voice would assure you your feelings are perfectly normal, maybe can be explained through hormones, before promising she would come over the next day to help distract you. And the mere thought of that alone would put you at ease, it’d be enough to find your sleep.

But she’s at work. And Javi is at work. And you’re here. Unable to sleep.

With another turn, you flip back to “your side” of the bed, and as you pull the sheets up around you, you try to imagine Javi there with you; his smooth, warm skin moulded to your back, a strong arm wrapped around you and pulling you close, maybe cupping your breast if he’s feeling cheeky—

Your body responds with interest to the thought—there’s a faint, dull throb between your legs, and it makes your thighs twitch where they’re laying on top of each other—and that gives you an idea. Turning over on your back, you kick the sheets away; you might as well indulge, if you’re lucky it’ll make you sleepy enough to just drift off after.

With a shiver, you run your hand up your legs until you can fist the hem of the sleep shirt you’re wearing, pulling it up, up, up so you can hook the fabric over the swell of your chest. Your nipples stand at attention, now exposed to the cool air that drifts through the room, and you allow your hand to cup one of your breasts, swallowing thickly when you squeeze yourself. The hand comes up to your mouth, tongue darting out to wet your pointer finger. With a swirl, you spread the saliva around a nipple, sighing at the sensation.

You imagine it’s Javi, the very tip of his tongue circling your nipple before he draws it into his mouth, before he bites at it. You pinch yourself, softly. It makes you gasp, but it’s not quite right. If it was Javi, he’d do it harder, you reason, he’d want to hear you. In an instant, your hand catches up with your mind, and you pinch harder, make it hurt just right. Your answering moan is loud in the otherwise empty space, and you think about how it would make him smile against your skin, how he would do it again, and again, until you were begging for him.

It doesn’t take long before you can imagine him right there with you, his broad frame looming over you on the mattress. You think of the wide span of his shoulders, his soft, freckled skin, and his hand skating down your body to fit itself between your legs.

As if off its own accord, your hand mirrors your thoughts, your fingers skimming along the warming skin of your belly, wiggling under the waistband of your underwear before deciding to pull the garment down and off all together. You spread your knees, giving yourself more room to reach. Heat rises in your cheeks at the easy glide of your digits between your soaked folds, and you move them down to your eager entrance to collect more slick. It’s how he always does it, teasing you where you’re fluttering open for him before he eases one inside.

One of your fingers slides into you with ease, but it’s off; you should make it feel more like him. His fingers are thick, blunt, a nice stretch to prepare you for more of him, right now it feels much more like—

Yours, is what you should think, but it’s not. Hers, is what your mind offers up, and all of a sudden, as you slide another finger into yourself, it’s not Javi’s hand you imagine between your legs.

It’s Katie’s.

Suddenly, she’s there in your fantasy, between your legs. Her dark hair frames her face as she looks down to where two of her delicate fingers slip in and out of you with a wet sound. Javi isn’t gone from your thoughts, he’s there, working you over, a large hand on your chest, and Katie’s eyes flick up to him before she leans up and he leans down. Their lips meet in a searing, openmouthed kiss. You can almost see their tongues slip together before they pull away and exchange a dazed smile. It fills you with more heat, this mental image of them working together to get you off. You imagine Katie focusing back on you as you grind yourself against her hand, fingers curling wickedly, and you’re so close lightning fast. Your hips arch off the bed, and in your head Katie leans into you, her mouth so close to—

No.

You rip your hand from between your legs with a gasp, effectively starving off your impending orgasm. It rockets you back to reality, the steady sound of the air conditioner filling your ears, the ceiling of Javier’s bedroom back before your eyes. The heat radiating off of you makes you shiver, and against your own will, you think back to that moment you should just forget about, but can’t….

You came to a stop at the Embassy gates, but before you could have even thought about saying your goodbyes, Katie was suddenly speaking. “But there’s other times I think of you, too,” she said in the softest voice.

You thought you misheard her, but then her head shot back up to look at you, and the wide eyed, vulnerable look on her face gave you pause, made you realize you did in fact hear correctly.

“About both of you…,” she added carefully, before her bottom lip found its way between her teeth for a moment, and god, it made you feel like your heart was gonna tud out of your chest. Was she coming closer? Getting on her tip-toes? “Especially since… you know...”

You might have laughed at her sudden bashfulness had it not been for the deep urge to pull her in, lift her face to cover her mouth with yours. It had been instant and terrifying, and maybe you would have done it if it hadn’t been for Javier marching out of the Embassy with a shout of, “Katie!”, snapping you both out of your haze and back to reality; she was needed back inside and the moment had passed.

You should have used the time to ask her, you think now, to ask her so many things. If she could stay to discuss this more. How it felt to her so you could maybe make sense of your own complicated feelings. Ask her about her use of the word ‘daytime’, and if it implied there was a ‘nighttime’ where she thought of you—Javier and you.

Ask her if this is what she meant.

But deep down, you know.

You spend quite some time with her, during your lunch breaks, your movie nights You were familiar with the way she raised her brow, narrowed her eyes, and the look in her eyes had said it all.

So, if she can do it, why can’t you?

Because she doesn’t have a boyfriend, the voice in your head reasons instantly.

Javi.

Your body reacts with interest at the thought of him, and it floods you with relief. You can get off to the thought of him. You’ve done it countless times, before and during your relationship, and this is no different.

With a huff, you flip over, sit up on your knees and spread your thighs.

You concentrate on what made you think of him in the first place: His voice.

You think of how it sounded on the phone earlier, cracked, raspier though the receiver – especially when he said your name. It reminds you of how he sounds when you’ve got him rolled under you, your hands on his chest for support as you circle and grind low against him.

You close your eyes, conjuring up the image of your boyfriend under you as you slip your hand back between your legs. You swear you can feel the ghost of his hands on your hips, thumbs digging in between the folds of skin each time you roll forward. At the thought of that, you plunge two fingers deeper into yourself, before adding another with a soft moan.

That’s more like it, you think, and though your fingers are slimmer, it’s more like how he fills you at this angle. The delicate stretch of it makes it easier to imagine him straining under you, to imagine his broad chest covered in a film of sweat, his plump bottom lip caught between his teeth between gruff whispers of filth.

That’s my girl, he’d say, you think, and you find your lips moving along with the words. Taking my cock so well.

Eventually, he always starts meeting your thrusts. You grind against your hand at the thought, and it feels good, feels like the way the base of his cock or the soft give of his belly would catch on your clit.

You bring a hand up to rest at the base of your neck, your breast squeezed up under your arm, and in your mind's eye, the fantasy suddenly shifts, the arm around your chest no longer yours.

“How does he feel?” Katie’s voice trickles into your reverie, slow and syrupy, as if her mouth is right at your ear to whisper the question.

Your hand tightens around your throat, imagining it’s hers. You picture her soft body snuggly pressed against your back, and her free hand closing over Javi’s so the both of them can push you down, so your eager cunt can swallow more of his cock. The erotic picture it paints in your mind makes you clench with a broken moan, a rush of slick coating your fingers, slipping down to your wrist.

“I bet it’s good,” Katie’s voice continues. “Filling out that pretty pussy just right, isn’t he, honey?”

“It’s so good,” you confirm, curling your fingers inside of yourself to graze that spot Javi always finds with practiced ease. “I want to come so badly.”

The hand around your throat tightens and it only fans the flames simmering in your gut. Your gasp barely makes it out audible as you bounce up and down on the mattress, desperately grinding against your hand to chase it.

“Tighter,” Javi’s voice orders, low, raspy. “She’s gonna come.”

You find yourself nodding as well as you can, leaning into the non-existent weight against your back as you cut off your own air, ears ringing, thighs straining, so close to it—

NO.

“Fuck!” you shout into the room, your soaked hand gripping at the inside of your thigh. With an indignant huff, you flop down into the pillow, cheek scrunching up against the scented fabric. Why, is this so fucking hard? You miss your boyfriend, you want to get off—get off to the thought of him.

With a frown, you shove your hand between your legs again, digging your knees into the mattress as three of your fingers slip back inside of you with ease. It’s a matter of principle now.

Conjuring up a new fantasy, one that has Javier taking you from behind, has you squeezing your eyes shut in concentration. You imagine the heat of his body against your back, his fingers digging into your sides, and you press your fingers inside deep to imagine him slamming into you.

This is good. This could work. It’s like you can hear the low little grunts he always lets out when he fucks you like this. It’s music to your fantasy-ears, and you roll your hips back against your hand as your other tightens in the bedsheets. Your fingers brush up against something promising, and you desperately try to grind your palm against your clit, but the angle is off, and you hastily push your other hand between your legs, swirling two fingers over your clit as you push your cheek into the bedding.

The change in position makes your mind betray you once more, memories of that night playing behind your eyelids; Javier’s punishing pace, his arm slung around your waist, Katie’s dazed face, her soft fingers caressing your clit, and you, caught between them. It makes you sob, in frustration or pleasure, you don’t know.

All you can think about now is them, and how good it was. How good Javi felt behind you, how you could still taste Katie’s come on your tongue as you buried your face in the crook of her neck.

You try to change directions in your head; re-direct the erotic film of memory in your mind to something else, but you can’t. Because if your orgasm had been cresting slowly earlier, this was a fucking storm in comparison. It stirs low in your belly, laps at your every dip and curve. The muscles in your thighs clench in desperate anticipation of that perfect little moment where it all feels right.

Just let go, you tell yourself, the thought oddly clear in your mind as you barrel towards something that feels forbidden… but you’re too into it; you're enjoying this. It shouldn't be a surprise, not after everything that has already happened between the three of you, but it is.

"Come for us,” Katie’s voice in your head echoes, encouraging you.

And you want to, you want it so fucking badly. It has you rubbing your swollen clit in desperate little circles, but somehow, despite having to have stopped yourself from coming twice now, you keep teetering on the edge.

“Please,” you whine. “God, please…” A frustrated, desperate sound echoes through Javier’s bedroom, and you can barely tell if it’s really you, or the you from your fantasy.

Suddenly, Javi’s voice cuts in, soft and low like he’s speaking right in your ear, but the crackle in it reminds you of how he sounded on the phone. And all thoughts leave you at his words.

"It’s okay.”

The sudden rush of relief and endorphins makes you crash over the edge, liquid fire blooming from between your legs, down your thighs, and you come with a moan. The intensity of having edged yourself for this long makes you shake with each frantic pass of your fingers through the slick, spasming channel of your cunt, and it seems to last minutes before you have to stop, overstimulated, satiated, thoroughly fucked out. Your body lands back on the sheets, and you pant against the fabric, waiting for your heartbeat to return to normal and for the jelly-like feeling in your legs to subside.

You feel like you’re glowing, Javi’s voiced permission alleviating your concerns. But, as you come down from your high, as you pull your shirt back down your torso and crawl under the sheets, you realize it wasn’t his permission. You swallow the lump that’s suddenly in your throat, a manifestation of the shame of your blissed out mix of fantasy and reality.

Javier isn’t here.

He was a fabrication of your mind, in your fantasy…

But that’s what it was though, wasn’t it? A fantasy. It’s perfectly natural and normal. There’s nothing wrong with letting your mind run free, in this case, as long as it stays up there, and not in the real world. But then again, parts of this already occurred in the real world, your fantasy a mere extension and repetition of what has already happened.

Maybe it’s just something you need to get out of your system. Last time you were together, it all caught you so off guard, with Javi springing his idea on you. Perhaps you just need to purposely get it out of your system. And if you couldn’t do that by using your fantasy world, maybe you needed to get it out of your system another way...

Sleep doesn’t come that night, but the thoughts do.

--

Thank you for reading 🧡

#dani writing #userastrid #javier peña #narcos #javier peña x reader x katie #javier peña x you x katie #javier peña x you #javier peña x reader #narcos fanfiction #fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction

[littlemisspascal]

Mailroom Crush Part 4

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

Word Count: 2600+

Summary: A story about Reader who works in the mailroom of the embassy and her encounters with a handsome, brown-eyed DEA agent.

Warnings: Language, fluff, angst, Stechner is the worst, Reader’s mother is mentioned, inaccurate depiction of how an embassy mailroom works, Idk what Katie’s job is on the show so I just assigned her one, this is only loosely based on canon of Season 3 so the timeline does not 100% match the show’s

Author Note: Because I love Javi and Tesoro, and also because there was so much positive encouragement, I decided to add more to this fic 💗 Somehow instead of writing fluff, I ended up with angst and drama 🤷‍♀️ As always, thank you everybody for your support and I hope y’all enjoy this segment!

Part 3 / Part 5

The night is humid and the embassy’s air conditioning is on the fritz again, sweat starting to grossly cling to your skin. If you knew anything about maintenance repair, you’d take a hammer and screwdriver and go fix the damn thing yourself, but unfortunately you don’t. Instead, you stay in the mailroom preparing packages for the morning delivery, a tedious cycle of printing the label, peeling it off the sticky paper and pasting it on the box, one after the other. 

You drag a stool over to your workstation, resigning yourself to a long shift of monotony, except as soon as you’ve gotten comfortable with your ankles crossed there’s a knock on the doorframe.

Craning your neck, you spot Javier’s frame filling up the entryway. He looks as though the humidity is affecting him, too, judging from the way his hair has started to curl along his shiny forehead. Still, your heart skips a beat, thrilled at seeing him, which is embarrassing, really, since it’s only been two days since you last saw him. 

This relationship—this bond—that you’re developing with Javier is so new, barely in its beginning stages of existence, and yet you can’t remember ever feeling so much excitement buzzing through your blood than when you’re around him. It’s hard not to feel like a teenager again, like you’re the bookworm who somehow managed to score the quarterback as your prom date.

Pushing those soppy thoughts aside, you gesture for him to come inside with a wave of your hand, returning the soft smile he gives you.

“Tesoro,” he greets, coming to stand next to your stool. He glances at the large stack of labels you still have to unpeel, and then picks up your hand, toying with your fingers. Although his hands are callused, his touch is gentle, like he’s holding something precious. “Be careful. Paper cuts are the fucking worst.”

“Yeah, unfortunately they’re one of the hazards of being a mailroom clerk,” you reply, shrugging a shoulder. You squeeze his fingers before pulling your hand free to resume your task again. Javier’s lips quirk, mustache twitching with the movement.

“Of all the mailrooms, in all the towns, in all the world,” Javier begins, eliciting a snort of laughter from you at the Casablanca reference, “what led you here to the Colombian embassy?”

“I lost a bet with my mother,” you say, accentuating your answer by slapping a label on a package. Javier laughs, brown eyes crinkling, and you blame the poor air conditioning for the sudden burst of warmth expanding behind your ribcage. “She said I needed to spread my wings, see the world, and bullied me into applying. I bet her they’d reject me and if they did, she’d leave me alone. She bet they’d accept me and if they did, I had to take the job.” You shrug again, gesturing to your surroundings. “I lost.”

Javier tilts his head, voice soft. “Are you...happy here, tesoro?”

“It’s good,” you say, then grimace because that’s not really an answer. Turning to face him, you explain, “I’ve always liked being around mail. Seeing people’s expressions when you hand them a letter from a loved one, or an important package they’ve been waiting for, or whatever. Being there for those moments, it feels like I’m making a difference in their lives. A small one, sure, but even the tiniest pebbles can create big ripples in a pond, right?”

“Right,” Javier echoes, his eyes heavy as he stares at you for a moment, and then he’s kissing you again.

His mustache tickles against your skin and he tastes like coffee and the mintiness of nicotine gum, and you just melt against him, helplessly sinking into the pleasurable warmth of his sweet kisses and his palm resting on the side of your neck. It’s unbelievable, the effect this man has on you. How quickly your heart has carved out a space for him to occupy 24/7 rent free. 

Pulling back, you press a quick peck against his nose before gesturing towards the labels. “I have to get this finished.” 

He leans in again, eyes bright with mischief, and you intercept his attempt at stealing another kiss by pressing your finger against his lips. “Javi,” you grumble, trying and failing to sound firm. “Ambassador Crosby won’t be very happy with me if these packages aren’t ready to send out in the morning.”

“Don’t worry, tesoro,” Javier says, lips brushing teasingly against the tip of your index finger. Your eyes narrow, and he leans back with a rueful look, like he just couldn’t help himself. It shouldn’t be as damn cute as it is. “No matter what you do, I’ll always be at the top of his shit list.”

His voice sounds tired all of the sudden, weighted down with something you don’t understand. You lightly touch his sleeve, silently assuring him you’d listen if he chose to talk about it. Javier glances down at your hand, expression apologetic, like he’s upset with himself for exposing his vulnerable side, and it breaks your heart.

“It’s just one of the hazards of being the DEA Country Attaché,” he says, mimicking you from earlier. “Making more enemies than friends.”

You bite your lip, the words that’s not fair burning a hole in your throat. Javier has his own flaws like the rest of the world—he’s too stubborn, too caring, too dedicated—but instead of vilifying him, you think they make him all the more profoundly human. 

And fuck if he doesn’t deserve so much more than a life spent chasing down narcos. 

“Hey,” you say at last, aiming to lighten up the somber mood by playfully waving one of the labels in front of his face. “You wanna be someone different tonight? I could use the assist.” 

Your efforts are rewarded with a smirk as Javier grabs the paper and says, “If you wanted my help, tesoro, all you had to do was ask.”

~~

Most people who visit the mailroom are stopping by to either pick up or drop off mail. They never linger long, popping in and out in mere seconds. Sometimes they might stress their letter’s importance, demanding it be sent ASAP, or they might complain their package hasn’t arrived yet, somehow reaching the conclusion you and your fellow mail clerks are to blame. 

For as many people stop by though, nobody ever cares enough to remember your name. In their eyes, you’re not someone worth noticing, let alone remembering. And honestly you don’t do much to try and change that opinion because you know it’d be a pointless endeavor. Some status quos just can’t be changed.

When Stechner visits today, he immediately sets off all your internal alarms by the casual way he saunters into the room, posture relaxed with his hands stuffed in his trouser pockets. You subtly watch him over the top of your computer, reluctant to leave your desk and lose the defensive barrier of separation.

The bearded man ignores your presence, pulling out a letter from his slot and tearing it open wordlessly. He doesn’t seem to care he has an audience, leaning his back against the organizer and scanning the letter’s contents, expression giving away no hints as to whether it’s good news or bad. 

You continue watching for a few more seconds before it starts to feel awkward since he’s not technically doing anything overly suspicious, prompting you to return to your work. 

You’ve barely finished typing a sentence before he breaks the silence, his tone dry and bland, “So...How are things with Agent Peña?”

Although your eyes remain fixed on the screen, your shoulders tense beneath your clothes, giving away your uneasiness. 

“You’ve kissed him, right?” he continues, slipping the letter back in its envelope and tucking it away inside his green blazer’s inner pocket. “Several times now, I reckon. The Javier I know isn’t a man of patience.” 

There is a pause and out of the corner of your eye you catch the way his head tilts, as if he’s thinking hard about something, but every instinct you have is screaming it’s just an act. That this is some kind of twisted CIA negotiation tactic meant to cause you to spill your guts. 

“Now I can’t be certain, but I’d bet the Javier you know is not the same man I do. Yours probably hasn’t told you anything about his involvement with the vigilante group Los Pepes and how it nearly cost him his career.” Another drawn out pause, adding more weight to the thick tension in the air. You have to keep reminding yourself to breathe, to ignore the sensation of nails being hammered into your heart, bleeding it dry. 

“All I know for sure is Javier is the fuck-‘em-and-leave-‘em type. He doesn’t stick around for relationships. But don’t just take my word for it, honey, ask him about his fiancée he left at the altar. Or,” he points his finger in the air, stepping closer to your desk despite your shoulders curling with discomfort, “better yet, ask him about Katie—the beautiful brunette archivist who assists the DEA department? Rumor mill would suggest they got to know each other quite well his first night here, if you catch my drift.”

Unfortunately, you do.

You sit up straighter and finally lift your gaze to meet his, forcing your lips to stretch into a polite smile. “In case you’ve forgotten, this is the embassy’s mailroom, sir, and I’m on shift at the moment. If you have something you’d like mailed, I can help you. If not, I kindly request you see yourself out.”

Stechner doesn’t laugh or smile, yet you still get the impression he’s amused with the situation. Maybe it’s the glint in his dark eyes, sharp as a knife, trying to cut you apart and play with the vulnerabilities he finds hidden inside. He heads for the door without argument, each step of increasing distance gradually loosening the stiffness of your spine. 

Exhaling a quiet sigh, you wiggle your fingers, preparing to start typing again, only for Stechner to stop at the doorway, tossing one last parting remark over his shoulder.

“Hope there’s no hard feelings between us, tesoro. I’m just trying to spare you a broken heart.” 

~~

Part of your job is to have a keen sense of observation. It helps you match names with faces when you make your delivery rounds. 

So you already know where to find Katie and her cubicle when you set out with your cart. She often receives letters from her sister living back in New York, and Katie is one of the rare few kind enough to actually say thank you whenever you drop them off. Before Stechner’s visit yesterday, you didn’t think much about Katie besides the fact she’s one of the few female staff members that can be found in the DEA department. 

But now, seeing her there talking on the phone, wavy brown hair draped over her shoulders as she scribbles down notes, you’re struck with an arrow of envy. 

It’s an ugly and childish feeling, but you can’t help it. You’re envious she caught Javier’s attention first and you’re envious of her visibility. If you were the bookworm and Javier was the quarterback in the stupid analogy your brain invented, then Katie would be the head cheerleader. 

And of course even if you attended the dance with Javier, Katie and him would still be crowned the prom king and queen. Nobody else could dare compete against them, least of all you.

A door to your right is yanked open, startling you, and you turn towards the sound with wide eyes. Javier is leaving one of the soundproof audio rooms, looking equal amounts frustrated and serious, like he’s committed himself to doing something but isn’t the least bit happy about what that something is. Before the door slams shut, you see Stoddard inside slipping on headphones. His expression isn’t a particularly happy one either.

You’re reluctant to bother Javier, especially when he’s clearly stressed out about the burdens of his job, but when you push your cart the front left wheel lets out a piercing shriek of protest, reverberating in the ears of everyone in the vicinity and eliciting a series of winces. 

You cringe with embarrassment, deeply aware of the judgmental stares of more than a dozen people, and call out a weak, “Sorry!”

Javier’s at your side in the next heartbeat, sparing you further discomfort by shielding you from their eyes before he snaps at them to get back to work. You let out a quiet breath of relief, giving the handlebar a brief squeeze to get rid of the nervous energy thrumming in your veins.

“Thank you,” you say quietly when he turns to look at you. “This cart likes to make my life hell at the worst of times.”

The concern doesn’t dissipate in his gaze. “Are you okay, tesoro? You seem…” he trails off, searching your face for an answer and struggling to find one. You bite the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself not to squirm. “Did something happen?”

You open your mouth, then immediately close it again because what are you supposed to say? Stechner tossed you a bomb and now you’re trying to pick up the broken pieces, trying to assemble them into something that makes sense. But how do you explain that to Javier? How do you tell him you’re terrified he’s stringing you along just to leave you after you’re another notch on his bedpost?

“I’m just tired,” you say instead, pasting on a small smile. “It’s been a long day.”

Javier doesn’t answer at first. He just purses his lips and nods his head once, twice. “Take care of yourself. I—” he clears his throat, glancing away. “The embassy needs you.”

Your smile widens, becoming a genuine one despite your warring emotions. “I’ll be okay, Javi,” you tell him, not knowing who you’re trying to reassure more: Javier or yourself.

~~

The morning is hot without a single cloud in the sky, and Riley’s running thirty minutes late, and there’s an abundance of mail to sort through before you can even think about taking a bite of your breakfast granola bar.

But there’s also a thick, yellow envelope on your desk with your name neatly written across its front. You hesitate to open it, finding its existence more than a little strange. Despite working in the mailroom, receiving any personal mail is a rarity for you. And if you do receive something, it’s usually from your mother and the writing on the yellow envelope definitely does not match her distinctive chicken scratch.

So, what the hell is it?

Curiosity aroused, you rip it open and discover its contents to be a stack of black-and-white photographs. A sticky note is stuck on top with the words Tried to warn you written in bold, black ink and underlined twice. Pulling off the note reveals a man and woman sitting at a bar. 

The woman is a stranger to you. Fair-haired with pale complexion and delicate features. Young and pretty, listening intently to the handsome man sitting next to her.

He is not a stranger to you. But with every picture you flip through showing him smiling and leaning in close towards the woman, you find yourself wishing he was one. If only to ease the hurt of your heart crumbling into pieces. If only so you didn’t recognize that he was wearing that same outfit earlier this week when you talked with him outside the audio room.

If only so you didn’t know he was Javier at all.

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Javier Taglist: @pascalesque

Mailroom Taglist: @mishasminion360 @spideysimpossiblegirl @meshlasolus @ajeff855 @theanothersherlockian @dobbyjen @bestinbeskar @fan-of-encouragement @jitterbugs927 @sunnshineeexoxo @melaniecraig80 @maknimuk1 @fanficmybeloved

#Javier Pena #javier peña #javier peña x you #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfic #narcos fanfiction #pedrostories #my fic #my writing #mailroom crush

[javier-pena]

sneak peek - triumvirate part II: virtus

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader x Katie

Rating: Explicit

[Masterlist]

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

“Eager,” she comments, removing her hand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good,” he observes with a nod.

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

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

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

Triumvirate Part II: Virtus coming May, 28 | [join the taglist]

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#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña #agent peña x reader #agent peña x you #javier peña x reader x katie #javier peña x you x katie #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #i am very very terrified of sharing this with the world haha #i will be perceived #triumvirate tag

[javier-pena]

Triumvirate Part II: Virtus coming May 28, 2022!

Today a year ago, I published a little fic based on an idea I had recovering from a hangover. It went on to become a fic many, many people messaged me about, telling me it helped them come to terms with their bisexuality or reminded them of how bi there are. Or they appreciated it for the smut, which is also a huge compliment because I worked very hard on getting it right.

And today, on its one year anniversary, I’m very happy to announce that Part II, which I’ve been promising for a year now, is coming on May 28! In the meantime, if you want to catch up with the story so far, you can find it HERE. And if you don’t want to miss it, you can sign up for my taglist HERE.

P.S.: Keep your eyes open for a small Triumvirate drabble before May 28 ...

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña #agent peña x reader #agent peña x you #javier peña x reader x katie #javier peña x you x katie #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #triumvirate tag

[javier-pena]

triumvirate

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader x Katie

Word Count: 13.7k (I know, I know ...)

Rating: Explicit (and I mean explicit, this is the most explicit thing I’ve ever written)

Summary: You and Javi have been talking about inviting someone into your bed, just to see what it would be like. But you had no idea he already has someone in mind.

Warnings: mentions of food and alcohol | some language | threesome (f/f/m) | thigh riding | fingering | oral (m and f receiving) | light choking | light dirty talk | unprotected (p in v) sex | praise kink if you squint | size kink if you squint | orgasm delay/denial | sub!Javi until he’s definitely not | multiple orgasms | creampie

Notes: This started as a brief conversation I had with Dani @javierpcna while making a gifset actually, and it turned into this huge fic involving a character that doesn’t even speak a single line of dialogue (yes, this is Katie, the woman from the elevator in s3e1, the one who looks at Javi ... respectfully). I actually don’t remember the last time I had this much fun writing anything, so I guess I will be writing more Javi fics in future ... also, as always, huge thanks to Dani for putting up with my crazy ideas for a week, for encouraging me, for sacrificing a Sunday evening to read this, and for kindling the flames that brought this on in the first place! Also I believe Javi doesn’t share but he can be a bit ooc - as a treat ...

***

Javi doesn’t like to talk about his work. He doesn’t like to “bring it home” with him, even though the word “home” is all relative to him. He keeps quiet about it when you’re at his flat, that’s sacred ground to him, but your flat is fine. So when he’s at your place, he sometimes talks about his colleagues, the paperwork he needs to finish, how his boss got on his nerves today. You know there is much he could tell you, a lot he doesn’t share on purpose, and some things he never mentions because he’s not proud of them.

At first, you are worried because he doesn’t let you in. You aren’t used to having someone in your life who keeps so much hidden from you, especially someone you slowly, over time, start to share everything with, from a cup of coffee over breakfast, over a cigarette during a hasty lunch break, to sighs and moans, joined hands and heartbeats under the cover of the night. Especially someone you slowly but surely find yourself falling in love with, someone you want to share your life with, but also someone who doesn’t seem to feel the same way, who keeps a part of himself hidden behind tailored suits and starched shirts. It makes you nervous and wary when he never answers your questions, it hurts you when he changes the subject, sometimes quite cruelly, but over time you begin to see this arrangement as something enjoyable.

In all your previous relationships, you’d mostly talked about work, discussed your day, asked boring questions to get boring answers from your partner. Maybe that is the reason why they never lasted – you were so preoccupied with involving each other in your professional lives that you never focused on the personal aspect of your relationships. But with Javi you’re forced to talk about something else, about anything else, books, movies, music, travels, that little dog you saw on the street today, how your mother is doing, the sock that has gotten lost in the dryer. And you love this about him, love how you’d gotten to know an entirely different version of him than most people know. Granted, he doesn’t watch a lot of movies and he doesn’t listen to a lot of music, he hardly ever has time to read, but he’s seen the world, he tells you stories you don’t bore of hearing repeatedly, while your fingers lay entwined on his broad chest, the warmth of his skin seeping into your body, his breath tickling your hand, while he talks, and you listen. Sometimes, on the rare occasion he cooks for you, he tells you about his childhood, about how his mother taught him to kill a chicken (“If you can eat it, you can kill it”), about how is father gave him his first beer to drink when he was eight (“It’ll make a man out of you”), about how his grandmother showed him which spices to use for what dish (“Never mix garlic and lemon juice, it’ll turn the garlic green”). It’s moments like these where you feel he trusts you. You don’t need him to give you a detailed rundown of his day, to tell you how badly his morning coffee tasted, how boring his meeting was, how much his colleagues annoyed him. Getting to know this personal side of him, the one you know he doesn’t usually share, that’s enough for you.

You trust him, and he trusts you.

His withdrawnness when it comes to his work is the reason you’re completely caught by surprise when you’re over at his place one cloudy Saturday afternoon for a late lunch and he mentions work. You’re the one cooking this time, a stew your grandmother taught you to make, and while you wait for it to finish simmering, you sit at his small kitchen table, lost in idle conversation. And no matter how idle those conversations get, talking to Javi is never boring, and that is one of the things you love about him. But when he does mention work – and nothing prompts it, no probing questions on your part about a torn shirt you find lying discarded on his couch, no need to share something with you out of weariness and frustration on his part – you are immediately snapping to attention. It’s infuriating how he does it, casually, while he fills a glass with tap water for you.

“There’s this girl at work,” he says, and your ears prick up at the word work, immediately on guard. He turns off the water but doesn’t turn to look at you when he continues. “I think … I think you would … like her.”

It’s so uncharacteristic of him to be this careful, almost flustered – is that a flush you see creeping up his neck? He’s usually very assured, he usually has no trouble making eye contact, he usually says what he needs to say with as little or as many words as he sees fit. So when he stammers and blushes like this, you can’t help but smile. You can guess, of course, what this is about. You’ve mentioned a few times that you miss your friends back home, that you sometimes feel lonely and wish you had more people to talk to. And he remembered, he listened to you and he remembered, which makes a warmth spread from your chest to your limbs, and the corners of your eyes crinkle with a soft smile.

“Is that so?” you ask teasingly.

He turns around and takes the two steps to close the distance between the sink and the table. You take the glass from him as soon as he stands in front of you.

“She’s … nice,” he tries to elaborate. He sits down next to you and takes your hand into his, his skin warm to the touch. His thumb brushes over your knuckles as he watches moisture gather on your glass. It is a hot day, and the windows of his small kitchen are open, allowing for the sounds of the city to drift in, to swirl around the two of you, to give you some background noise to the comfortable silence that sometimes settles between you. “She’s funny,” he continues finally. “Ambitious, too. Junior agent. You have a lot in common.”

That sounds more like the Javi you know; observant, good at reading people, good at making connections. He’s still not looking at you though; it feels like he’s asking you something big, something life-changing, not like he’s trying to help you find a friend.

“Yeah, she sounds nice,” you agree. You raise the glass with your free hand and take a sip of water. “I’d like to meet her.” And even if you shouldn’t get along, there is no harm done. But you feel like you will because Javi is very good at reading people and if he says that this woman is someone you would like to spend time with, you know you will.

“You would?” His head snaps up in surprise, and it makes you smile again. As if you could ever refuse him! And if he’d ask you to move to Antarctica with him, you wouldn’t hesitate. But you can understand his tentativeness because you haven’t technically told him that. Yes, Javi is easy to talk to, but not when it comes to feelings. Those conversations are reserved for the dead hours of the night, for when it feels like you two are the only people in the world, for when you both know you can open up to each other, be at your most vulnerable state without the other person taking advantage of it, of crushing it like a fallen leaf. And you haven’t had many of those conversations yet.

Still, your heart picks up speed at the thought of how he’s looking out for you, of how he met a woman at work and thought to himself that you maybe would like to be her friend, how he was nervous to bring it up because he thought he might have misread your needs. But if there is one thing Javi is brilliant at, the one thing no one else in your life has ever been able to do, it is reading your needs, interpreting them correctly, and then acting accordingly to them, doing everything he can to care for you and look out for you, sometimes even at the expense of his own needs. You wouldn’t be able to tell that about him by looking at him, by hearing how his acquaintances talk about him, but there is a soft side to this man, one you feel very protective of.

You nod with enthusiasm. “Sure, why not? If she’s as great as you say, then I don’t see why we wouldn’t be getting along.” You are very curious to meet this woman. He’s hardly given you any information about her, but still, she sparks your interest.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Good.” He also nods, but when he does it, there is an air of determination to it. It feels like you’ve just agreed to some big plan you don’t fully understand, not to having lunch with one of his colleagues. “Listen, there’s this work thing next Friday.” His voice gets lower with each word, so he pauses to clear his throat. “I think you should come along, meet everyone … officially. She’s also gonna be there, it’s a good opportunity …”

Now you can’t help but giggle. He squeezes your hand, and you squeeze back. “You’re very eager to introduce me to her, aren’t you?” you tease, but there is no malice in your words. You’re actually flattered he’s talking about introducing you to his colleagues, about bridging that divide between private and professional.

Your fondness for him gets lost in translation, and your words fall on different ears than they are intended for. “I’ve been telling everyone at work a lot about you –”

You cut him off with a firm kiss that elicits a low growl from his chest. “Javi, I’m already convinced, okay? No need to lie to me,” you whisper against his lips, your hand brushing against his rough cheek. He has to understand that he doesn’t need to pretend with you, that he can be his true self around you.

He lifts your entwined hands from the tabletop and presses a soft kiss against your knuckles. “I’m not lying.” You want to believe him, but there is a glint in his eyes when he looks up from your hand and locks his gaze to yours. It would be wise to be annoyed with him or tease him in turn, but you can’t help yourself. Every time those brown eyes land on you, you feel a pull towards him you cannot quite explain but also cannot ignore. You have to give in.

Still, you roll your eyes in a valiant attempt to keep up a semblance of dignity before pushing yourself off your chair and onto his lap. Your fingers find the hair at the nape of his neck and you grip it and hold onto it as you carefully roll your hips under the pretense of finding a comfortable position. Both his hands immediately land on your sides and squeeze.

“Then let me give you something to tell them about,” you whisper, your lips right next to his ear, and nothing beats the feeling of pride rushing through you as he pushes his hips up, chasing a tiny bit of friction. You’re sure it’s basic instinct, something he can’t quite control, and you love nothing more than making him let go.

***

You thought you would be meeting Javi’s colleagues at a bar, but then you find yourself in front of a nice restaurant. It’s the only place in town that sells good burgers, or at least that’s what the man at your side tells you. You were planning on getting pleasantly drunk, not making conversation while trying to coordinate a knife and fork, but you think you’ll manage as long as you stick to your companion.  

But something about Javi feels off tonight. He nervously fixed his tie in your hallway mirror when he picked you up (usually he doesn’t care about the state of his tie’s knot), he didn’t talk to you much during the drive to the restaurant (usually he points out little details he notices about the city or takes this opportunity to compliment you), and now he keeps fiddling with the cuff of your blouse as he leads you up the stairs to the restaurant’s entrance.

You’re also nervous, mostly because you haven’t met any of the people you’re about to be introduced to, and you don’t know if you’ll have something in common with them or if you’ll spend your evening sitting alone in some dark corner nursing one fancy cocktail after the other. If there’s one thing you’re not good at, it’s going into a situation unprepared, and Javi did nothing to help you build up some expectations about what to expect from tonight. To be fair, you didn’t ask. You didn’t ask about the colleagues you’re about to meet, you didn’t ask where you were going to meet them, and you didn’t ask about the woman he is planning on introducing to you. The reason for your silence? You didn’t want to annoy him, show him just how insecure you are.

But you feel oh so apprehensive about this evening. Your positions are reversed now – suddenly it is you who thinks it might not be such a good idea to mix personal and private. You have no answer as to why you feel like this. It is just a dull sensation in the pit of your stomach that makes your hands feel cold even though it’s a hot, humid evening. It makes you want to turn to the man at your side and ask him to go home. But you won’t. Because despite the dread you’re feeling you’re kind of excited at the prospect of meeting this new colleague he mentioned to you. There is an air of mystery around her that intrigues you because he hasn’t talked about her since that afternoon almost a week ago. And you appreciate the gesture of him biting the bullet and mixing the two sides of the coin that is Javier Peña so you can find a friend.

Once you make it inside, Javi leads you to a group of people who are already standing together in a cluster. The introductions are over way too fast, and you don’t remember a single name. Most of the men you meet look the same to you – they’re wearing suits in different shades of blue and grey and brown, broad, colorful ties, and big smiles. You’re smiling too as you shake their hands, while Javi introduces you to them as his girlfriend, and you know he would because he told you he would, but it still makes you feel warm and tingly, and it cements your right to be here by his side. You’re pretty sure you keep smiling at him like a lovesick teenager, but you don’t care. He’s smiling too, keeping close to you, a hand at the small of your back or on your elbow, his chest always right behind you for you to fall back into should you seek comfort.

Sometimes, you feel him stiffen behind you when a few of his colleagues crack jokes about how you were able to tie down the elusive Javier Peña. He rolls his eyes at their remarks, but you laugh along. You know about his reputation, you know about his past relations with other women, but you don’t mind. Why should you? You also don’t mind his colleagues’ reactions – all you care about is that this feels right at the moment and you wouldn’t change it for anything. But you do understand a bit better why Javi was wary of you meeting his colleagues.

To your relief, there is enough to drink, and soon you find yourself standing at Javi’s side, a bottle of beer in your hand, while you listen to him talk to a man about ten years his senior. You don’t understand much of what they are saying – they’re using so many abbreviations it sounds like code – but Javi stands with his hip cocked to one side so he’s leaning close to you, and you enjoy feeling the ghostly shadow of him by your side. Since he doesn’t like to talk about his job, you enjoy seeing this relatively unknown aspect of him, this other man who’s like a stranger to you, who talks with so much confidence and poise that you cannot help but listen to his every word. And you understand why he seems to be so admired among his colleagues, why they were eager to shake his hand when you arrived, why they seek out his company, why they wave at him from the other side of the room. He’s good at what he does, competent, capable, he knows how to be in charge of a situation without obtruding, and you feel such a strong pull towards this side of him you have to take a big swig from your beer bottle to hide how much this is affecting you. The last thing you need is him teasing you about it.

But before your behavior exposes your desires, he suddenly moves away, and you’re pulled after him, not so much in motion but in attention. He’s spotted someone, a woman, and he’s leaning down to press a light kiss to her right cheek before turning to you.

“This is Katie,” he introduces her, and there’s something in the way he says those three words that makes you pause. You smile at her as you shake her hand, but then your gaze flickers back to Javi who suddenly looks at you like he did in his kitchen six days ago, unsure yet with an edge of something more, something you can’t fully grasp, and then you know.

This is the woman. This is this girl at work that he thinks you’re going to like.

You turn your attention back to her to look at her, to see what he’s seeing. She’s shorter than both you, with long, brown hair that she wears in open waves. You think she has a winning smile and kind eyes, and you immediately want to get to know her better. She compliments your blouse, she makes a joke about something Javi did at work the other day, she’s even holding a bottle of your favorite beer. She seems to be all Javi promised her to be.

Then why is he looking at you so nervously, like a small boy bringing home a teacher’s note?

Javi introduces you as his girlfriend, and Katie doesn’t miss a beat before she says, “Oh, he’s told me a lot about you,” with one of the biggest smiles you’ve ever seen.

“He has?” you ask. You’re not fishing for compliments. You’re genuinely surprised, since you hadn’t expected him to be sharing his private life with his colleagues, much like he doesn’t share his professional one with you. The thought of him talking about you with this woman who is standing in front of you, makes you smile. You decide to tease him about it. “You two spend a lot of time together then?”

Katie’s smile flickers, if only for a short second. “No, it’s not –,” she starts, but Javi interrupts her before she can finish.

“Katie likes fishing,” he says.

It catches you completely off-guard, as does the look on his face. He raises a hand and lets his fingers run over his lips, something he always does when he’s nervous, while he waits for your answer.

“I do,” Katie says with an enthusiastic nod.

You have no idea what’s going on, but you decide to play along. “I go fishing with my dad whenever I’m in the States,” you tell them.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Katie exclaims, and it should, by all means, sound like something she’s only saying to be polite, but it doesn’t. Instead, it sounds like she means it. “Where are you from?”

“North Carolina,” you answer. It’s something you don’t talk about often because it’s not interesting. If you were from California or New York, people would follow up this revelation with questions and stories of their own. But North Carolina? You always feel a bit embarrassed about mentioning it.

But Katie’s reply is something you haven’t heard before. “You don’t sound like you’re from North Carolina.”

Maybe you should be offended – you don’t know what she’s implying with this – but for some reason it just makes you laugh. “Thanks,” you say.

“No, oh my God,” she backtracks immediately, “I didn’t mean to offend you …”

“You didn’t,” you assure her with a dismissive wave of your hand. You glance at Javi then, and he’s following your conversation like a cop watching his partner interrogate a suspect, like he’s afraid of missing just one syllable of what you are saying. His whole body is rigid, his hands are balled into fists at his side, and his face is a mask of pure concentration. “So,” you start again, turning back to Katie, “what has he been telling you about me?”

Several tables have been put together to stand along three walls of one of the biggest rooms in the restaurant. As you sit down and skim the menu, Katie answers your question. Javi speaks of you differently than most of their colleagues speak about their wives or girlfriends. When he talks about you, it doesn’t feel like he would rather do anything else than spend time with you. Quite the opposite, in fact. It makes your face grow hot. You try to distract yourself by ordering your meal, by changing the subject (“So, tell me, Katie, where are you from?”), by watching Javi talk to a middle-aged woman next to him, by watching Javi make her smile.

Katie tells you everything you want to know, answers all your questions in great detail, but always turns the attention back to you. When you ask her about her favorite music, she asks you about yours. When you ask her about her family, she asks you about yours. When you ask her what made her take a job in Colombia, she asks you about how you came to be here. It is a dialogue, not a monologue. She tells you about her brothers back home, about how one is a bank manager while the other went into environmentalism. She tells you she’s always wanted to go to Europe, and she hopes her next DEA assignment will finally get her there. She also tells you about her work for the DEA, about how she spends most of her days in the office, but also about how Javi took her along on a raid recently.

And you realize Javi was right. You do like her. She’s pleasant company, she’s educated but not in that stuck-up way most of Javi’s colleagues are. When you admit that you have no idea who the current Attorney General is, she doesn’t look at you like you just said you enjoy drowning kittens. She just brushes it off and changes the subject. When you tell her about a book you’ve been reading, she takes a small notepad from her bag and jots down the title and author, telling you she’ll check it out. And you truly believe she will.

When you’ve finished most of the food on your plate, she excuses herself to go to the bathroom. You check your watch, surprised that it’s already this late. Your gaze wanders over to where Javi is now talking to two young men who hang on his every word. But he’s glancing at you, a question on his face. You mouth, “What?” but he just shrugs. If he’s still worried you won’t like Katie, he has no reason to. You’re having a very pleasant evening.

When Katie gets back, Javi glances between the two of you, running his finger over his lips again. You just smile at him and, with ease, pick up the conversation with Katie once more. Maybe you should talk to someone else for a change, but Katie doesn’t seem to be bored by your company either, so you have no desire to change anything about your current situation.

Towards the end of the night, you too find yourself in the bathroom. You’re tired, but pleasantly sated, yawning while you wash your hands. You can’t wait to curl up next to Javi tonight and tell him about how much you loved talking to Katie. But you’re also not quite ready for this night to be over yet.

When you step out of the bathroom, Javi is there, waiting for you in the cramped space of the dimly lit hallway. You jump, caught off-guard, but when he shoots you an awkward glance, you can’t help but giggle.

“Hey, can I talk to you?” he asks. He’s curling the fingers of his right hand into a tight fist and releases them again, over and over. It’s another one of his nervous ticks, one he does when he’s trying to relieve tension.

“Sure, what’s up?” you reply, trying to sound casual.

Javi looks nervous, so maybe you’ve fucked up. Maybe you did something or said something, and one of his colleagues saw or heard and complained to Javi about you. You swallow hard, trying to keep the smile on your face.

“Are you having fun?” he asks next.

“Yes, of course.”

“And the food?”

“Am I enjoying the food?” you try to clarify. “Sure.”

“And Katie? You like her?”

This makes you laugh. “Yes, I like her. What’s this about, Javi?”

He doesn’t reply, just shoots you a look, pregnant with meaning.

“What?” you ask, and finally stop smiling. “Do you want me to say I don’t like her?”

“No, no,” he says, too quickly. “I’m just –”

You interrupt him. “I know you’re nervous about me liking her, but you don’t have to be. She’s really nice.” He still doesn’t look convinced. “I’m gonna ask her if she wants to meet up for coffee.”

“There’s something …,” he starts before clearing his throat. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Do you want to get coffee with me?” you tease him.

“It’s about Katie,” he answers.

“Sure.”

He takes a deep breath and then breaks eye contact with you, focusing his attention on the wall behind you. “I would like to ask her to join us …,” he says very slowly, making sure you catch every word, “… in bed … tonight.”

Still, you’re not sure you’ve understood him correctly. “What?”

“Just if you want to,” he clarifies.

That doesn’t really answer your question, or any of the other, and there are a lot, but you don’t know where to begin. “Katie?” you say, trying to encompass everything you’re feeling with this single question.

You look past Javi to where she’s sitting, watching the people around her with interest. And then something drops – you’re not sure you’d call it a penny because it feels smaller than that, but you suddenly remember having talked about inviting someone into your bed to see what it would be like. The conversation happened a few weeks ago, after Javi had fucked you for what felt like hours. You had lost count of the number of orgasms you’ve had, but still he didn’t seem to be satisfied. You hadn’t thought much of it then. All you remember is agreeing to give it a try; your fucked-out brain would have agreed to anything. But you had no idea Javi already had someone in mind, you had no idea he’d brought it up thinking of Katie. And suddenly the tone he had used to talk about her in his kitchen a week ago sounds a lot different to you.

Javi’s silent, staring at you with his big, brown eyes, patiently waiting for an answer, while you’re trying to wrap your head around this proposition.

And your mind is racing. You did say yes to the idea of it when he asked you about it, but he just sprung this on you, and it’s so much more than an idea now, it’s a plan, one he’s fully prepared to set in motion. He’s talking about tonight, he’s talking about leaving here and taking her home with you and doing this … tonight. You haven’t been given a chance to prepare for this, you don’t know how you feel about it, how you’re supposed to feel, so you decide to try something.

“Would you like that?” you ask him.

He nods.

“Why her?” you want to know.

“I think she’s nice, pretty, …,” he answers with a non-committal shrug.

“I thought you wanted her to be my friend,” you remind him.

“Of course, I want that,” he’s quick to assure you. “I want you two to get along.”

You reach up to grab his tie then. “Javier, are you sure about this?” you ask with emphasis.

His eyes open wide at this. “Yes.”

You feel a familiar tingling between your legs at hearing his breath hitch. Before you let this go too far, you look over at Katie again and try to imagine her in bed between the two of you, but you can’t. You have no idea how you would even start thinking about this, so you focus on something else, something you’re familiar with, something steady: Javi.

“All right,” you agree. “But there’s some rules I want us to follow.”

“Is that a yes?” he asks and it sounds so incredulous you almost smile.

“Yes, just –”

But he crowds you against the wall, pushes you back against the bricks before you can finish the sentence.

“What –,” you start.

Then he kisses you in a way that’s meant for the privacy of your bedroom, not a public restaurant. You kiss him back tentatively because you don’t want to encourage him too much. He comes even closer, and you feel something brush against your leg.

A smirk spreads across your face. “Why didn’t you say something?” you ask between kisses.

“I am saying something,” he points out.

“Yeah, but sooner.”

He shrugs again, then goes in for another kiss. You hold him back.

“Javi, stop,” you say in a firm voice. “Just listen to me for a minute, okay?”

He nods.

“You have to ask her,” you insist. “I’m not doing it, all right?”

He nods.

“And I don’t …,” you lower your voice, “want you inside of her. Is that clear?”

He nods.

“I’ll be in charge,” you go on. “I’ll decide what we’re doing.”

The “fine” he gives you as an answer is accompanied by a deep rumbling in his chest.

“And she’s not staying over. I don’t care how late it gets, she’s leaving afterwards.” You feel like you need to set these boundaries if you want this to work.

“Can I take her home?” he asks.

“Yes,” you answer.

He licks his lips. “Yeah, okay.”

***

You’re in the car. Javi is driving, you’re next to him, watching the lights of the city drift by. Your heartbeat is louder than the sound of the engine, you expect Katie to remark on it any second now, to ask if everything’s okay. But she doesn’t. She’s talking about a book she’s reading, one you’ve also read (and loved) but you can’t bring yourself to hold a conversation. Katie doesn’t pick up on the shift in atmosphere, and if she does, she doesn’t comment on it. But you feel like there’s a deadly snake resting between your feet, one that will bite if you make a single wrong move.

There is a difference between talking about inviting Katie home with you in a room full of people where it’s just a theoretical concept and actually doing it.

Javi agreed to be the one to ask her. But he’s kept quiet so far. All he did was offer Katie a ride home, which she accepted with a big smile on her face. You glance over at Javi as he’s driving, his face alternating between being aflame in golden lighting and hidden in complete darkness. You can see the tension in his facial expression by the way he furrows his brow, but when he glances over at you there is something in his gaze – reassurance, yes, but also an edge of something you can’t quite put your finger on. You tell yourself his eyes are only this dark because your environment is. And suddenly you don’t feel like you’re in danger anymore; suddenly you want to exploit this situation, exploit the power it gives you over him.

You turn around to look at Katie, who’s sitting in the seat behind Javi. She just ended a long explanation about a character’s motivation by saying, “… you know,” and you nod to signal you’ve been listening, even though you haven’t.

If Javi doesn’t want to bring it up, you have to. Because the more you think about it, the more you want to do this, and you don’t want to rely on a man who can’t make the first move.

“Katie, I was wondering …,” you start, and immediately Javi’s right hand leaves the wheel, and his fingers dig into your thigh. You inhale sharply at the sensation but continue, “… are you seeing anyone?” Javi loosens his hold on you but doesn’t let go completely.

Katie shakes her head, then bites her lip bottom lip. “You know,” she says then lowers her voice, “I actually had my eyes on …,” she nods at Javi, “but please don’t think –”

You interrupt her. “No, please, Katie, it’s fine.” You smile at the man next to you, who shakes his head ever so slightly. “I completely understand.”

“Yeah,” Katie sighs and shakes her head so her hair tumbles down over one shoulder. “There are actually a few broken hearts at the office.”

That makes you laugh, if only because Javi looks utterly miserable. “I think he’s secretly enjoying that,” you whisper in a conspiratorial tone of voice.

Javi makes a sound of warning, one that tells you to shut up.

“Javi, I’m kidding,” you say with a light laugh. It’s only half the truth. You know him. You know he enjoys the attention.

Katie, too, starts to apologize, but you interrupt her again.

“Please, you have nothing to apologize for, he can take it.” You wonder if you should press your luck, if you should rile him up a bit more, and you decide it’s the right thing to do. “Don’t tell me you don’t enjoy the attention, Javi. Broken hearts … women pining for you …”

Javi makes another sound of warning. “It’s not like that,” he says through gritted teeth.

“What’s it like then?” you challenge.

Katie interrupts your stand-off before Javi can reply. “You guys, this is me, actually,” she says, pointing at the dark shape of an apartment building at the end of the block.

You turn around to face her again. “Katie, would you like to come up for a cup of coffee? Javi lives just down the street.”

“You sure?” Katie looks at Javi when she asks.

The knuckles on Javi’s hands are white from clutching the steering wheel.

“Of course,” you say, nodding eagerly.

“Yeah, all right,” Katie agrees.

You’re all quiet until you reach Javi’s apartment building. He gets out to open the garage door, then drives the car inside. You can’t help but notice that he still hasn’t asked, and you feel yourself getting nervous and antsy. If he doesn’t do it soon, you’ll definitely be the one to bring it up.

As soon as the car is parked, Katie gets out and shuts the door behind her with a dull bang.

Javi turns in his seat so he’s facing you. “What was that?” he asks.

“Ask her,” you tell him. “Now. Or I’m gonna do it.”

“What?” he snaps.

“I was trying to give you an opening,” you explain, as calmly as possible. Why does this have to be so complicated? “Like a scene partner, you know? Set up everything, so you can ask her.”

“Well, you weren’t doing a good job.”

“Gee, thanks,” you say, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“I’m gonna do it,” Javi tells you, his voice much softer now, “just give me time.”

“How much longer do you need?” you want to know. “She almost had us drop her off at her flat.”

“I’m doing it,” Javi sighs, “just … go away.”

All the tension in you leaves your body in one big wave and you smile softly at him. “Javi, are you nervous?”

He shoots you a stern look.

You raise your hands defensively. “All right, I’m going.”

You both get out of the car, and while you walk towards the exit to the stairwell, your steps echoing through the underground parking lot, you hear Javi say, “Katie, do you have a minute?”

You stop once you reach the door, lingering in the shadows, your eyes on Javi and Katie. You watch them talk, but you cannot hear what they’re saying; they’re too far away and standing too closely together for the sound to carry all the way to you. All you can tell is that he’s explaining something to her, and when he grows quiet, he cocks his hip, arms akimbo. Then he nods at you.

You have to admit you’re more nervous than you want Javi to know. So much could go wrong. What if she starts shouting at you? What if she storms off? She’s still Javi’s colleague, he would still have to work with her. What were you thinking? Why did you agree to this? Why didn’t you ask a complete stranger? It would certainly have made things a lot less awkward.

Katie is also looking at you, just for a moment, but it’s enough time for her to take you in, from head to toe, and then she looks back at Javi. She says something, something you can’t hear, and he nods. Then she nods, too.

***

You’re on Javi’s couch, Katie is sitting next to you, another bottle of beer in her hand, while Javi has made himself comfortable in an old leather armchair. You’ve been sipping on a glass of water for the past 15 minutes while you’ve been listening to them talk about work. Neither of you has mentioned anything about the proposition, and you have no idea how to bring it up again. Yes, you want to be in charge, but you had hoped Javi would do more than just ask. You had hoped he would initiate something … anything.

But instead, they’re both relaxed and at ease, talking about some new regulations that have been introduced recently, while you try to find a way into the conversation, while you try to find something more elegant than, “Well, anyway, do you guys wanna take this to the bedroom?”

Luckily, there’s only so much time you can spend discussing regulations on car safety, and soon a tense silence settles over the room, settles between you, waiting to be cut, to be torn apart, and you know that this is your chance.

“So,” you start, and immediately both Javi and Katie turn their heads to look at you. You take a sip from your water before continuing. “Katie, there’s some things –”

She interrupts you immediately. “I know, Javi told me. I’m fine with it.”

You take a deep breath. “Yes, I just want us to go over it one more time, to make sure we’re all on the same page.”

God, why do you sound so awkward? This isn’t supposed to be a business negotiation and yet it feels like one. You don’t want to alienate Katie by insisting on those rules, but you need something to hold on to once you get started.

“I’m gonna be in charge,” you say quickly. “I hope Javi mentioned that.”

“He did,” Katie confirms with a nod.

“And I want you to leave once this is over.” It sounds mean, but it’s too late to phrase it nicer now.

“Yeah, sure,” Katie says, her expression neutral. “No problem.”

“I’m open to trying anything,” you go on. “But the minute someone feels uncomfortable with something, we stop. All right?” You look at both of them for confirmation. They both nod. “I need a verbal confirmation, please.”

“Yes,” Javi says, “we stop.”

“Of course,” Katie agrees.

“And there’s one more thing,” you say, trying to work up the courage to address it. You know it’s silly to be nervous about it, especially since you all just agreed to be open with one another, and since Javi already knows about it, but you still feel apprehension at the thought of bringing it up.

“Yeah, I know,” Katie says before you can continue. “No penetration.”

She says it so matter-of-factly, in the same tone of voice she used to talk about the new regulations that suddenly you feel like there won’t be any problems at all.

“I’m fine with fingers,” you say quickly, “just not …”

“Yes, and I’m completely fine with that,” Katie assures you.

You have no idea how she does it, how she can sit there and talk about this without flinching. Maybe you’re the problem; maybe you need to relax more. You enjoyed your evening talking to Katie, you enjoyed getting to know here, so there is nothing to indicate you’re not going to enjoy this. Katie is certainly set on enjoying herself, judging by the way her eyes roam over Javi, practically undressing him with her gaze.

And suddenly, you don’t feel shy at all. You feel brave and bold, and entirely not yourself as you lean closer to Katie and, before you can change your mind, capture her bottom lip between your lips. Katie makes a surprised sound, but then her hand is at the nape of your neck as she pulls you close. You can taste the beer lingering on her lips as you pry them open with your tongue, and you feel her gasp softly against your skin, and you just know that this won’t be a problem at all. You feel bolder with each passing second, not breaking the kiss when you rest your hand against her thigh, and she’s not breaking the kiss when you move it higher up to cup one of her breasts. All that catches your attention is a sharp intake of breath somewhere behind you. Katie hears it, too, and it makes her break the kiss.

“So, where’s the bedroom?” she asks, putting down her beer.

***

Javi’s bedroom is dark, except for the occasional flicker of light from a passing car that illuminates the walls and the bed for a few short moments. Neither of you switches on the light as you enter. It is a quiet procession, slightly awkward, as if you all don’t quite know how to approach this. You still feel apprehensive, but this feeling is slowly being replaced by giddy excitement, by adrenaline and arousal mixing together to form a dangerous, explosive cocktail you long to control but you also want to see ignited. You try to breathe in deeply, slowly, but your throat feels tight as your heart beats loudly against your ribcage.

You want this, you have to remind yourself, and it’s not the act itself you’re thinking about, but what you discussed just a few minutes ago. You wanted to be in charge, you tell yourself as both Javi and Katie look at you, their faces hidden behind thick shadows.

Katie looks as nervous as you feel. You’re all new to this, but she’s not as used to hiding her emotions behind a solid mask as Javi is. She glances at you, then back at him, waiting for you to say something. Or for him to do something. You were so brave and determined in the other room, as if you knew exactly what you were doing. You were another person. But now this feels solid and real, not something you just talk about with Javi to see the heat in his gaze. They actually expect you to do something, to guide them, and you’re not sure you can do it.

Javi, ever observant, ever determined to look out for you, senses your insecurity. Of course he does, how could he not? He is focused on you, it feels like you’re the only person here who matters to him, like this is about you and no one else. He takes a step forward until he’s a hand's width away from you, then pulls you close into a deep kiss, one that leaves you breathless within seconds. His tongue is everywhere, and his teeth nip and bite at your lip and neck until all you can do is cling to the collar of his shirt to help you ground yourself. He pushes you up against the nearest wall until you’re trapped between two solid entities. You’ve never felt safer and more sheltered. Your initial insecurity blows off as you lose yourself in the attention he’s paying you. His hands are eager to explore, roaming across your chest, pulling open your blouse with so much force you hear one of the buttons hitting the floor somewhere. You don’t mind; all you want is for him to keep going.

He does, forcing you to spread your legs so he can push one of his strong thighs between them, and you obey willingly, while you press sloppy, open-mouthed kisses against the hot skin of his neck, against the bulging vein that protrudes when you let your fingers brush against his chest and stomach, trailing lower and lower, eager to reach their goal. Before they can, he pushes up his thigh and you grind down onto it, both of you moaning from the strain and the tension of it. You can feel your slick coating your underwear, you’re sure he can feel the heat through the fabric of both your trousers, and it only spurs him on – he takes a hold of your hips and urges you to keep moving. You do, your eyes fluttering shut, as your entire world is reduced to that sweet friction as you chase your pleasure, completely lost in the moment.

But then his mouth is right next to your ear and he whispers something, his voice raspy and raw, and your whole body trembles.

“Look at you,” he says, and you feel the words reverberating in his chest. “You want this, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you breathe out in a whispered pant. “God, yes.”

He pushes up his thigh again and you let out a moan that fills the entire room.

His lips are still right next to your ear, you can feel his breath tickle your sensitive skin. “Can I kiss her?” he asks. “Will you let me?”

You can’t tell if it’s that he’s so close to you, so overwhelmingly close and solid and present, or if it’s the pleading edge to his voice when he asks you, but something makes you vibrate with desire and all you can do is nod quickly, your head connecting to the wall with a dull thud. You don’t even feel it.

He pulls you in for another kiss, taking his time with you, and you taste him, inhale his scent, drink him down, before you pull back with a soft chuckle. “Go,” you whisper, “she might get bored.”

“Yes,” he agrees, and presses another soft kiss to your lips. “I want you to take off your clothes, all right?” His thumb brushes over your cheek when he quickly cups your face. “Get comfortable …,” he hesitates, “… and if you want us to stop …”

“No!” you interrupt him. “No, please.”

The smirk spreading across his face is too cocksure for your taste, and while he’s turning away from you, you’re already trying to come up with a plan to get back at him.

Your skin still burns, it feels like your whole body, every cell, is on fire, your lungs struggle to draw in air to keep you alive. You’re sure you look like a mess, your fingers tingle and your legs shake, and you just can’t explain it, why he suddenly has this effect on you. You’re attracted to him, more than you’ve ever been to another man before, and he makes you feel so good whenever he touches you and fucks you, but this is new.

Your eyes never leave his back as he steps over to where Katie is standing completely still, as he pulls her close by her wrist, cups her cheek, his fingers tangling in her long hair, and then his lips are on hers, and she melts against him. You listen to her soft moans and his rough pants as they explore each other, and suddenly your body burns up with longing again, longing to be touched and kissed, longing to pull out those same sounds from someone else. You watch as he undresses her with adept hands, as he roughly cups one of her breasts and she mewls, satisfaction flashing across his face, as he shoves one hand between her legs, then turns to you with a satisfied grin.

He doesn’t have to say it. You know.

You hurry to get out of your clothes while Javi does the same. Katie is leaning against the wall, her body trembling, and you know how she feels, you know about the burning between her legs, about the heartbeat pounding in her ears. You’re all too familiar with the effects of his touch, his kisses, his filthy words whispered against sweat-slicked skin. But she’s been hit by it without a chance to prepare herself. When another car drives past, you get a glimpse of her flushed skin and the glimmer in her unfocused eyes, and yours flutter shut for a second in response as your hands curl into fists.

If this is what Javi gets to see when he touches you it’s not surprising he does it so often.

He takes your hand and leads you to the bed, helps you settle down comfortably. Katie follows, her gaze fixed on Javi’s hard cock, eyes wide.

“No,” he says, as if he can read her mind. “She’s first.”

It’s against your deal, against the rules you set for this to work. He shouldn’t be in charge, you should be, you should tell them what comes next, how to approach this. But when one of his hands grips your thigh and pulls so your legs spread and you hear a hissed breath as he looks at the evidence of your arousal slick and glistening between your legs, you lose all will to take charge. Instead, you let your head fall back and wait, wait for him.

And then there’s something else, too; Katie, on your other side, much smaller, less imposing, but there, smelling sweet and clean where Javi’s scent is heavy and choking. She settles down comfortably next to you, her body pressed against yours, and before you can get used to the feeling of her own arousal against your leg, she softly moves your head, so you look at her, and then she’s kissing you hungrily. Suddenly, her sweet scent is all you breathe and taste, her soft lips against your own ignite something deep within you, something you already felt back in the living room but which you pushed down for the time being because it wasn’t the right place. Now it is, and you pull back and push one of your legs between hers, watching how her jaw tightens, how her eyes open wide, and then she starts rolling her hips, coating your skin with her slick. You tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck and force her to look down, to watch herself, and when she does, you’re suddenly filled with two of Javi’s fingers, stretching you open.

A hoarse moan escapes your throat as he pulls them out again but immediately replaces them with three. You’re used to it, used to his thick, strong fingers stretching you, but you’re so wound up and on edge that it almost feels overwhelming. There are tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but then you feel Katie’s lips against your neck, and it brings you back down.  

Somewhere above you, Javi huffs. “You’re so wet,” he says, his voice unbelievably deep and rough and it makes a shudder run through you from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. You want to come up with a witty retort, but you can’t, not when you hear what he says next. “Do you want to feel her, Katie?”

“Can I?” Katie whispers against your neck, but before the question has left her mouth in its entirety, you’re already replying.

“Yes, fuck,” you moan, trying to push up your hips to take Javi’s fingers in deeper.

He grips you with his free hand and pushes you back into the mattress. And then you feel the much softer touch of Katie’s fingers against your stomach, stroking you soothingly. She even whispers a soft, “Shh,” against the shell of your ear, and you squirm in reply, but then she finds your clit and softly circles it, once, twice, and you go limp at the same time as she bites down on your neck to muffle a breathless, “Fuck.”

You share that sentiment. Her fingers feel nothing like Javi’s. They’re softer both in touch and pressure but combined with his three still buried deep inside of you, still fucking into you with wet, obscene noises, you feel like you’ve found Heaven on Earth. You’re close, every muscle in your body tenses, and you close your eyes with a deep groan.

Suddenly, Javi’s hand closes around your jaw and he pulls. “Look at me,” he demands. “I want to see you.”

Reluctantly, you open your eyes, but then you see it. Javi is looking at you like he usually does, with amazement and want, but there is also a different edge to it, something between unrestrained lust and uninhibited pride, and something like adoration too, and he’s never looked at you like that before. It’s enough to push you over the edge and you come with a hoarse cry, tightening around his fingers, pushing him even deeper into you, and this time Katie has to hold you in place with a firm grip as he continues to fuck you with three wet fingers, fuck you through your orgasm, the muscles on his arm taut with the effort.  

Only when you hiss and try to move away does he stop. He leans down to press a soft kiss against your temple as you shudder and try to catch your breath. Katie’s hand moves up to stroke across your stomach in lazy circles, while she presses small kisses along the underside of your jaw. You swallow hard and close your eyes – you have never, never, felt like this after an orgasm; you feel so open and vulnerable with both of them doting on you like this, but you also feel safe and secure. The only thing that’s missing is a feeling of deep satisfaction, and you might have an idea how to achieve that.

“You all right?”

It takes you a moment to realize Javi has addressed you, but once this information registers with you, you nod slowly. “Just give me a second,” you answer, your voice raw. You clear your throat and the movement stings.

Did you scream? You probably did but you don’t remember.

Javi relaxes, sits up, and carefully pulls out his fingers. You hadn’t even realized they were still inside of you, and you hiss at the sudden feeling of emptiness. He only smirks at you, a lopsided grin that ignites another spark of desire deep in your belly.

“Lie down,” you tell him, your voice still hoarse and dry.

He looks at you, a question on his face.

“Come on,” you urge him, pushing yourself up on your elbows so you’re closer to him. “Lie down on your back.”

He does as he’s told, lying down on your right side next to Katie who’s still cuddled up to you, still trying to kiss your neck, your shoulders, anywhere she can reach. But your eyes are on Javi, and on the unreadable expression on his face. There is definitely some curiosity there, some inquisitiveness, and you haven’t forgotten – you haven’t forgotten about wanting to get back at him.

With a finger under Katie’s chin, you tilt her head up to kiss her, a slow kiss that quickly turns into something more. She grips your arm and holds on as you take your time with her, exploring her mouth, exploring all the ways you can make her sigh and whimper. By the time you pull away, she’s a quivering mess and you can’t blame her, especially not once you realize why her moans have grown louder and more desperate during the last few minutes.

Javi’s hand is between her thighs, and you see him move two fingers in and out of her at a leisurely pace. This sight – his thick fingers, the same ones that were buried so deep inside of you only minutes ago, now coated in her slick – makes you bite back a moan that’s trying to force its way out of your chest. You lock eyes with Javi as he pushes a third finger into her and she drops her head onto your shoulder with a strangled sigh; there’s a challenge in his gaze, one you’re ready to accept.

You run your fingers through Katie’s hair and watch Javi continue what he’s doing, listen to the obscenely wet sounds his movements make, and whisper soothing words to the woman by your side, whisper to her how good she is for you, how well she’s taking it, how pretty she looks on display for you like that. You know Javi can hear you, you see his cock twitch when you ask, “Would you like him to taste you?” and her breathlessly replying, “Yes.”

Javi moves to get up, but you quickly put a stop to this by shaking your head. “No,” you say, “we’re doing this my way.”

Yes, there’s definitely curiosity in his gaze, but you also don’t think his eyes have ever been this dark before.

You softly kiss Katie again, then say, “Hey,” in the quietest voice you can muster, giving the circumstances. “Look at me.”

Katie opens her eyes and gazes at you, her brow knit tightly, her eyes glazed over with lust. The sight makes you bite your lip, and her gaze immediately flickers down to where your teeth dig into the soft flesh.

“Are you all right?” you ask her.

She nods slowly.

“If there’s something you don’t feel comfortable with, just tell me.”

She swallows and nods again. You have a feeling she wants to say something but doesn’t trust her voice.

You nod too. “Get up,” you say, giving the softness in your voice an edge to show her this isn’t up for debate.

Javi slowly pulls his fingers out of her and you see her thighs quiver at the loss. You help her into a kneeling position.

“He’s gonna taste you now, all right?” you ask, making sure everyone is on board with what’s going to happen next. “I’m going to take care of him, so I don’t want you to worry about that. But you’re going to look at me the whole time.”

Her eyes widen as she realizes what you mean, and you hear Javi inhale sharply behind her. You let them find a position that is comfortable for them while you move to settle between Javi’s legs. His cock is an angry, red color and you cannot wait to feel the weight of it in your hand, to give him some of the relief he’s craving. He’s been so good for you – for the both of you –, he deserves to be taken care of. You let your eyes wander to the tip, to the drop of pre-cum that is inviting you to lean down and taste him, when you hear a deep groan vibrate through his entire body, so depraved and unrestrained it makes you look up.

Katie’s thighs are planted to the left and right of Javi’s head, his hands are digging into her soft flesh to spread them even further. Her head is thrown back in pure bliss as he licks up into her, holding her down so he can reach as much of her as possible. You’re completely mesmerized by the sight in front of you, by Javi’s face buried between another woman’s legs, by her arousal coating his chin, and it makes your own cunt clench with need. For a moment, just one brief moment, you consider abandoning your plan, taking him inside of you until you’re joined, connected, until nothing could pull you apart, and then fucking him until he spills inside you, moaning your name into Katie’s cunt.

But you don’t.

You take a deep breath, then wrap your hand around the base of Javi’s cock.

His moan of strained relief sends a jolt of pleasure through you.

You run your fingers up his length and swipe your thumb across the tip, collecting some of the pre-cum. As a response, he digs his nails deeper into Katie’s thighs and she cries out, a sound somewhere between pain and pleasure.

“He likes it rough, you know,” you say, circling the tip of his cock with your thumb lightly, casually, as if you were doodling a circle while talking to someone on the phone.

Katie’s eyes snap open and she looks at you, but you’re not sure she sees you. You don’t blame her. You’re well aware of what Javi can do with his tongue. You know what it feels like when he moans against your wet cunt, your swollen clit. In fact, you’re surprised Katie hasn’t come all over his face yet.

“Grab his neck,” you say, and cannot help but laugh lewdly when she immediately complies, her slender fingers closing around his strong, muscular throat. You watch as a vein at the base of his neck bulges, straining with effort, while he never once falters, while he continues to lick through Katie’s wet folds like she’s the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. “Go on then,” you say, your hand closing around the base of his cock again and squeezing, “don’t be shy – fuck his face.”

The way Katie follows your orders immediately, without hesitation, without the flicker of a doubt on her face, makes pleasure shoot through your veins. You swallow hard at the sight of her rolling her hips almost leisurely, her fingers still wrapped around his throat for purchase, while he drinks her down without complaint, a dark flush creeping up his chest and neck.

You’ve teased him enough.

You pump his cock once, twice, before settling yourself so you can wrap an arm around his leg, running your fingers through his coarse, dark hair, and then you finally allow yourself to taste him. You suck the tip of him into your mouth, letting his taste burst on your tongue, appreciating it like you would appreciate expensive wine. You take him in deeper, his heaviness familiar against your tongue, his taste sharp and strong, and he rewards you with a deep, dark growl, with low moans, with clipped sighs. One of his hands find its way to the nape of your neck to push you down further, and you let him. He’s been patient enough – he’s allowed to take for a while.

But there’s something else, too, another noise, one you usually don’t hear when you do this: the wet sound of his tongue against Katie’s center, her quiet gasps mixed with his strained huffs. You can feel yourself get impossibly wet at hearing them, at hearing this ambient noise all around you, and you let out a moan of your own before hollowing your cheeks to take even more of him in your mouth until his tip brushes against the back of your throat and you feel tears sting at the corner of your eyes.

Javi lets out a low growl and pushes his hips up. You hold him down, try to restrain him, but his muscles tense, his breathing gets ragged and then ….

You hear it, a quiet gasp, and look up. Katie’s eyes are on you, her face is flushed, she looks like she’s burning up, and it takes you a moment to realize what is happening until you notice she’s stilled completely, and her hands have left Javi’s neck and are braced against his broad chest, her nails digging into his flesh, leaving angry marks. She’s coming, she’s coming all over his face, while he continues to lick her with the most obscenely wet sounds you’ve ever heard. She doesn’t even have time to call out or shout his name because she’s so overwhelmed, taken completely by surprise, and you are, too. All you can do is sit up and watch her, brushing the loose strands of hair from her face, as she comes completely undone without a single sound.

You don’t give her much time to catch her breath, neither of you do. With a firm grip, Javi pushes her off him and you immediately set the next step of your plan in motion.

“Do you want to return the favor?” you ask her.

Her eyes grow wide, and it feels like she’s unable to speak, but she nods eagerly. You can see her heartbeat, a quick pulsing in her neck, tempting you, and you lean forward to kiss it.

“Go on then,” you whisper against her skin.

You swap places; she settles herself between Javi’s legs and you lie down next to him. He looks like a mess. His chest is rising and falling rapidly like he’s just finished running a marathon. There are marks all over the skin, and his cheeks are flushed. His eyes are glazed over, and his curls are damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead. You run your fingers through them, trying to smooth them back. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, drawing your eyes lower to his mustache that’s impossibly darker.

The urge to kiss him becomes unbearable.

When you do, he doesn’t taste like himself. There is another taste mixed in there, one that is foreign to you, and you bite down on his lip possessively when you taste it. He lets out a low growl and bucks his hips, drawing your attention downwards.

Katie looks up at the both of you, tears in her eyes. She’s doing her best, but you know how it is, you know that Javi’s size can be overwhelming at first. You decide to help her, to make this as enjoyable as possible for both of them.

“He likes a firm hold at the base,” you say.

Katie’s fingers close around his cock in a firm grip and Javi hisses, his breath fanning across your neck.

“Good girl,” you praise. You don’t know where this is coming from, but Katie’s eyes flutter shut and Javi’s chest rumbles with a desperate purr and you know you’ve said the right thing. “Use your tongue more,” you continue, “and try to get out of your head … he likes it sloppy.”

Katie’s tongue darts out to lick along the underside of Javi’s cock, from base to tip, before she takes him in her mouth again, doing her best to hold him steady. She doesn’t break eye contact with you and it’s only when you nod encouragingly that she lets him fall from her mouth with a wet plop, a trail of spit connecting her to his tip.

“Yeah, that’s better,” you tell her. “Keep that up and he won’t last long.”

You turn your attention back to Javi who looks at you with eyes impossibly dark. If there was a source of light in the room, you’re sure you’d be able to see your reflection in them. You grip a tuft of hair at the top of his head and hold him in place.

“Is this what you wanted?” you ask him, whispering the words into his ear, against his hot, flushed, sweat-slicked skin.

He nods, nothing more.

“I want to hear you say it,” you urge him on.

When he answers you with words, you hear why he was trying to communicate non-verbally. The “yes” he gives you is a hoarse, deep, desperate sound. You had no idea his voice could sound like this, could sound so wrecked, so taut, so pleading. You kiss him, and he kisses you back with such urgency, like a drowning man coming up for air.

You’re drunk, drunk on this power you have over him, drunk on being in charge of his pleasure while not even touching him, and you feel the desire to exploit this, to push him as far as he’ll let you without breaking him. You kiss him back, holding him in place with the fingers in his hair, while you listen to Katie moan around his cock. He moans, too, and his hips twitch, and you know he’s close, one fist tangled in the bedsheets, the other holding on to your arm.

“Katie, stop,” you say.

She does immediately, thinking there’s something wrong. Javi groans in frustration, his hips jerking upwards to chase that bit of friction from Katie’s hand still wrapped around him.

“Change of plans,” you tell them.

“No, please.”

You don’t recognize Javi’s voice. If you wouldn’t have seen his mouth move, you wouldn’t have known it was him who had just spoken.

“Please, querida.” He’s trying to convince you, he really is, knowing you usually can’t resist him when he calls you that, but you can, you have to this time.

“There’s something I want to try,” you tell him, letting your fingers run down his chest. “You said I could decide what we’re doing.”

“Yes, you can, but please …”

“If you do as I say …,” you say slowly, swallowing hard, “you can fuck me as hard as you want.”

He thinks this is hard for him, but it’s nothing compared to how hard this is for you. You’re sure you could come from hearing him say two more words in that voice of his. Luckily, he shuts his mouth and nods, determination on his face.

You sit up. “Katie, come here.” You beckon her close with a wave of your hand. “Lie down next to him.” Katie does as she’s told, glancing at Javi whose eyes are fixed on you. “Make sure his hands stay where you can see them. He’s not allowed to touch himself.”

“Yes,” Katie says, her voice hoarse.

You allow yourself to give her one kiss, just one, before you frame her chin with your thumb and index finger and turn her face so she’s looking at Javi. Where Javi’s skin is burning, Katie’s is cool to the touch when you let your hands run down her sides and over the taut plane of her stomach. She sucks in a quiet breath as you brush your fingers over her thighs, over the mound of hair between them, and then you touch her.

Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, at feeling her soft, warm, wet center. You run your fingers through her drenched folds, you listen to her gasps and whimpers, you hear Javi’s voice, too, but you can’t understand what he’s saying. And then, with a shallow breath, you push one finger into Katie. You feel her clench around you, you hear her whisper your name in surprise, but you’re too mesmerized by the sight of your digit vanishing between her folds to look at her.

You get it. You get it now. You know, you understand why Javi loves doing this to you.

When you add a second finger and pick up the pace, Katie moans loudly, but still not loud enough to drown out Javi’s aroused grunt. You finally lift your head to look at them both, at Javi, whose mouth hangs open, who has a look on his face like he’s trying to solve an unsolvable puzzle, and at Katie, who’s doing her best to keep her gaze on Javi, but whose eyelids flutter dangerously.

You shift positions and then your face is level with Katie’s weeping cunt. You pull out your fingers, grab her thighs in a tight grip, and give her one experimental lick, just a taste, just a sample. It’s so different from what Javi tastes like, it’s less heavy, less prominent. You try it again. And again.

Katie is a whimpering mess by now; one of her hands is resting against the top of your head; what the other one is doing, you don’t know. All you can focus on is the feeling of her against your tongue as you suck on her clit. That makes her scream, and you do it again, until her voice is hoarse.

Then you hear Javi. “You like that?” he asks, and you think he’s talking to you, but when you lift your eyes, you see he has Katie’s face in a tight grip, forcing her to look at you.

Katie nods.

“Tell her,” Javi demands, tightening his grip.

“Fuck,” Katie moans, and for you, this would have been enough, but not for Javi.

“You can do better than that,” he coos.

“It – you feel so good,” Katie tries. “God, I … more, please.”

“What do you need?” Javi asks. “Tell her.”

“Can I have … I just need … a finger,” Katie answers, her face and chest impossibly red, her expression open and vulnerable, her eyes glazed over. “I just want something to come on.”

You pull away for a second, a smirk on your face. “You can have two,” you say, before shoving two fingers inside her. You feel her tense around you, pulling you in deeper, and when you put your tongue back on her clit, she lets out the filthiest, most desperate moan you’ve heard her make all evening.

She didn’t moan like that when Javi was between her legs.

“Do you want to come?” you hear Javi ask her, and a strangled sound is the reply. “That good enough for you?” he asks you.

“No,” you say between licks.

“You heard her,” Javi goes on. “Try again.”

“Please …,” Katie whimpers. “I need to …”

You push your fingers impossibly deeper into her and she tightens around them with a hoarse scream, over and over, while you suck her clit into your mouth again with a filthy sound. She tries to pull away then, but you hold her in place with your free hand.

“No,” you say, your voice breathy. “Another one.”

Javi lets go of Katie’s face and shifts on the bed. Your eyes flicker to him, but he’s keeping his promise so far.

“Think you can do it?” he asks Katie.

“I don’t know,” she answers.

“You can,” you tell her. “Just keep an eye on him.”

You’re on thin ice, you know that. There’s only so far Javi will allow you to push him. But you feel drunk on the power you hold not only over him, but also over Katie. Her legs tremble when you drag your tongue through her wet folds again, her muscles twitch, and her hips push upwards. You hold her down, then repeat the movement with your tongue before pushing the tip of it into her. Katie’s head falls back with another loud moan, and this time you let her roll her hips against your mouth before pulling away.

The desperate whimper she makes cloaks your mind in a hazy, filthy mist of lust.

“Tell me, Katie,” you start, lazily pushing the tip of your finger into her, “who’s better? Me or him?”

You don’t look at her as you say it, you look at Javi. He holds your gaze, his expression unreadable, but there is something in his eyes, something that reminds you of a gathering storm.

“You,” Katie breathes out. “You, fuck!”

And then the storm breaks loose in Javi’s eyes. You see the lightning, hear the thunder, you feel the electricity prick at the back of your neck. You shouldn’t have asked Katie this question, you shouldn’t have provoked him like this, but here you are. There no taking it back now.

Even as you turn your attention back to Katie, even as you taste her cunt once more, you know he’s watching you. You feel his heated gaze, you feel something simmer just beneath the surface. As long has Katie moans and writhes beneath you, you’re safe. Javi won’t make his move. But as soon as Katie comes, you will have to pay.

And she does, eventually. She pushes her hips up, pressing your face against her with a firm grip at the back of your head, and you feel her come all over your tongue and chin with quiet shouts of pleasure.

Before you have time to collect yourself, before you have time to sit up or catch your breath, Javi is behind you. You don’t even see him move, you only realize he’s changed position when you feel the heat of his body against your back, when you feel his fingers on your sides, when you feel him slam into you. The sheer force of it pushes you up the bed until you’re right above Katie’s dazed face. You hold on for dear life, your fingers gripping the bedsheets, as Javi fucks you with so much force you can feel him everywhere. You don’t even have enough air left in your lungs to cry out, all you can hear is his skin against yours and his low grunts as he’s finally taking what you’ve denied him for so long. There is nothing you can do but let him.

You know you won’t last long, neither of you will. But when you feel Katie’s fingers against your clit, when you look into her eyes and see her bite her lip in concentration, it’s too much. The contrast between Javi fucking you at a punishing pace and Katie’s soft touch, almost like a caress, loosens something within you before your entire body tenses up. Something is happening to you that you cannot quite explain. You feel yourself grow unbelievably wet, so wet Javi slips out of you completely for a second but pulls you back onto him with a rough tug, and then you hear Katie moan out a low, “Shit”. You bury your face in the crook of her neck, feeling wrung out yet taut at the same time. It’s so overwhelming you feel like you’re about to explode, like you cannot keep going, but they don’t stop. Javi has an arm slung around your stomach as he holds you in place, Katie has your hip in a firm grip while she circles your clit with a movement that’s enough to keep you on edge but not push you over it. Javi has grown completely quiet, and you know exactly why; you know what his face looks like even though you can’t see him, you know he’s about to come from the way his muscles twitch against your back. But you don’t know if you can give him what he wants, if you can come on his cock buried deep inside you, his cock that sends jolt after jolt of rough pleasure through you. You’re too overwhelmed, you won’t be able to let go.

But then, your face still buried in Katie’s neck, you hear her say, “Come for us,” and that’s all it takes. You do, your muscles closing around Javi’s cock like a vise, while you bite down on the soft skin of Katie’s shoulder, trying to muffle the scream that tears itself from an undiscovered place within you, so well hidden, so deeply buried you had no idea it existed. And while you feel wave over wave of pleasure rush through you, you also feel Javi flood you in wave over wave of hot release, his body completely still, holding you in place until he’s done.

He pulls out of you with a wet sound, and you immediately sink down next to Katie, spent and exhausted and more tired than you’ve ever felt in your life. Katie kisses your cheek, your temple, your lips, anywhere she can reach, while Javi gets a wet cloth from the bathroom to clean you up. The second to last thing you remember is Javi joining you on the bed again, his strong arms wrapping around you, whispering soothing words.

The last thing you remember is taking Katie’s hand into yours and saying, “Stay.”

***

It’s early morning, the street outside Javi’s flat is still quiet, and you yawn as you lean against his arm, a cup of coffee in your hand.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for breakfast?” you ask Katie as you watch her put on her shoes.

“Thank you, but I have a lot of work to catch up on,” she rejects your offer again with a smile. “Another time maybe?”

“Do you want to grab coffee sometime?” you ask her.

“Sure!” she exclaims excitedly. “Anytime.”

“I’ll give you a call, okay?”

She nods, then pulls you away from Javi and into a tight hug. “It was lovely meeting you,” she says, her arms still slung around you. “I had a lot of fun.”

“Me too,” you say, before pulling away.

Katie turns her attention to Javi. “Thank you,” she says. For what exactly, she doesn’t reveal.

Javi, his hair still messy from sleep, wearing nothing but an old pair of boxers, looking exhausted and tired, still manages to smile at her. He leans down and presses a kiss against her cheek. She presses a kiss against his lips.

“See you,” she says, meaning both of you. 

taglist (mostly people who showed interest in this fic): @acdeaky | @ah-soka | @chasingdreamer | @codenamewife | @darksber | @deliriouslybewitching | @dindja | @doin-stuff | @filthybookworm | @for-my-satisfaction | @frannyzooey​ | @itssmashedavo​ | @kesskirata​ | @leannawithacapitala​ | @murbeft | @omgreally​ | @pedropascaldice​ | @phoenixhalliwell​ | @phrog-seeds | @pilothusband​ | @queenofthefaceless-main | @reluctantlyresponsibleadult​ | @skyshipper​ | @softpedropascal​ | @speakerforthedead0​ | @starrdvstkenobi​ | @sunnydunnydays​ | @tacticalsparkles​ | @theorganasolo​ | @walt-breslin​ (if your url is crossed through it means I couldn’t tag you for some reason, I’m sorry!)

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña #agent peña x reader #agent peña x you #javier peña x reader x katie #javier peña x you x katie #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #i know this is long it was supposed to be 5k max #never in my life was i this nervous about posting something #i'm just idk a soft bitch or something

[javier-pena]

interlude I

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader x Katie

Word Count: 4.5k (or a “drabble”)

Rating: Explicit (there’s s** in this)

Summary: You invite Katie over for dinner, but Javi is late.

Warnings: smoking | some language | f/f/(m) | fingering | voyeurism | light dirty talk | praise kink | bi panic | a tiny bit of plot if you squint

Notes: Okay so first, this is actually set after Part 2 of Triumvirate which I haven’t written yet, but today is also Dani @javierpcna​‘s birthday and I wanted her to wake up to a short drabble, so here we are. Dani, my beloved, happy birthday!! I hope this is a small surprise, it took everything in me not to give anything away, I wanted to text you about it multiple times a day, and I do hope I wasn’t too obvious in the things we discussed. I hope there aren’t any embarrassing typos in this, but I’m sure you’ll forgive me if there are.

masterlist | join the taglist

***

It’s just dinner, nothing more.

Javi is late. You‘re used to it, and you’ve learned to live with it. His job is demanding, unpredictable, capricious, he keeps irregular hours, and you know he hates to keep you waiting, but sometimes it is out of his hands. Only tonight … tonight you’ve got plans, and he’s not here.

Katie is.

She’s been here for more than half an hour. And still there is no sign of Javi. If Katie had been anyone else, you would have been embarrassed by your boyfriend’s tardiness. But Katie knows. She works in the same field, the same office; she knows what it’s like when something comes up, she knows you can’t always keep the promises you make. All you can do is wait for a little while longer and then start dinner without Javi.

But it’s a hot day, and you’re both on the couch in the living room, enjoying cold drinks and idle conversation. Katie tells you about one of the men at the embassy who always wants to get into Javi’s good books but who is too much of an asshole to be taken seriously. You laugh at Katie’s impression of him, the way she pinches her eyes and hunches her shoulders and lowers her voice. It’s only when you’re breathless with laughter that Katie lets herself fall back into the cushions of the couch with a happy sigh.

She looks so proud that she’s making you laugh, and your chest tightens at the sight.

“God, it’s hot,” she complains with a grunt, pulling her shirt away from her chest. “Would it be okay if I undid some of the buttons?”

“Of course,” you answer with a nod.

Katie smiles a silent thank you and unbuttons her shirt until you can see the top of her breasts. Your eyes immediately snap back up to her face, and you hope she hasn’t noticed where they were a second earlier. Still, you feel your heart pick up speed.

It’s just dinner, nothing more.

“It’s kind of cruel they make you wear all of this,” you say with a nod at Katie’s outfit. “Especially considering the weather.”

Katie smirks but it’s more of a grimace than a smile. “It’s all about keeping up appearances,” she explains, taking a sip from her drink.

You know how much Javi hates having to wear a suit, but he always says it’s part of the job, especially his job, his position. And you busy yourself trying to recall what he told you the last time you were talking about this because three small droplets are currently making their way down Katie’s neck and into her cleavage. You don’t think she’s noticed, but you also don’t want to draw any attention to it because you don’t want her to know you’ve been looking.  

“Javi says the same,” you tell her instead, a lame attempt to keep the conversation going.

It’s just dinner, nothing more.

Katie is right, it is hot, you feel it too, even though you’re wearing a light sundress. And it doesn’t help that the droplets are still making their steady way down, and it doesn’t help that you can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to lean forward and catch them on your tongue.

“Are you okay?” Katie asks you.

You realize you’ve been staring at her neck for too long, and it makes her look down, too. She wipes at the droplets before they reach their destination.

“Oh no, I think I’ve made a mess,” she says with a small, angry sigh.

“It’s fine,” you tell her quickly, trying to take the glass from her. You just brush your knuckles against it, spilling even more of the liquid.

Katie giggles breathlessly.

You can’t tell who starts it, but her lips are soft and hot against your own when you meet them, her tongue lazily grazing against yours. Your eyes are closed, all your senses are focused on her hot skin and wet kisses, and you feel too tired and wrung out from the heat to do much more than nip at her bottom lip. Katie sighs happily and brings up a hand to cup your cheek.

“Missed you,” she admits with a soft brush of her fingers against your skin.

You had no ulterior motive when you invited Katie. It was just supposed to be dinner – and nothing more. But she’s right here on the couch, right next to you, and you can feel the heat radiating off her body, setting your blood on fire until it moves through your veins like molten lava. And you realize there’s no such thing as just dinner with Katie because if her mere proximity to you is enough to make your stomach curl with desire then there’s no way you can pretend any longer.

You shift, so you can reach more of her, pressing kisses against the damp skin of her neck, feeling her pulse against your lips, and it makes you squirm. You bite the soft skin tentatively, eliciting a gasp from her, so you do it again, but she moves away from you only to pull you close again, crushing her lips against yours. You moan into her mouth, too desperate, too needy, but she likes it. Teeth clash, hot air comes out in soft gasps, your body’s heat mingles with hers, creating something like a cyclone, something that will gather its own momentum if you let it. Katie’s kisses are hungry, and so are yours; her encouraging moans are enough to make you grow damp with desire, damp like her skin, and you feel heat pool between your legs, a heat that has nothing to do with the one surrounding you.  

She must feel it, too, feel a steady, unrelenting pull, because her hand is first on your thigh, covered in the soft fabric of your summer dress, then it is on your skin, covered in the glistening sheen of summer heat, and then her finger finds your center, finds your clit, finds the rapidly growing damp spot on your panties. It’s not enough, if anything, it makes things worse, like an itch that you scratch only once so it burns even more intensely. And Katie doesn’t even scratch the itch, she just touches is, probes it with innocent curiosity, while you moan loudly at her touch and feel your eyes close out of their own free will. All you can focus on is Katie’s slim finger pressed against you.

And her breath – her hot, urgent breath on the shell of your ear as she whispers, “Oh, so you do want this …”

You don’t even have time to tell her how much, how much you’ve been thinking about it, thinking about her, how you’re not yet ready to examine these feelings and what they mean for you, how you don’t know when and if and how you should talk to Javi about it, but all of this doesn’t matter when Katie pushes the thin fabric of your panties aside.

It doesn’t matter when Katie’s finger finds your clit.

You whimper and push yourself into her touch. You want to tell her how much you’ve missed her soft, sweet, chaste attention on you, but you’re so overwhelmed that all you can do is find her thigh and dig your nails into the fabric of her trousers. You feel yourself clench in time with the circular movements of Katie’s finger, you feel yourself burn with want, and when you open your eyes, you feel the air being knocked from your lungs. Katie’s eyes are on your face, she’s watching you intently, her gaze roaming over your slightly parted mouth, your burning cheeks, your tense neck. It’s like she’s waiting for some sort of confirmation, for you to tell her everything is okay, and you know that once you give her that, you won’t be able to come back from it. The thing is – you don’t want to come back from it.

You swallow hard. “More, please,” you whimper.

Katie’s eyes shine with something akin to relief as a soft puff of air tickles your cheek. You think about kissing her, about feeling her lips glide against your own, about her tongue mirroring her finger’s movements, before she shifts, leans back, and you freeze in panic. Did you make a mistake? Did she make one? Does she maybe not want this at all? But then her hand claws at your panties as she tears them off of you and pushes a finger into you, and every doubtful thought is forgotten. You clench around her immediately and by the way she bites her lip you know she can feel your desperation.

Everything comes to a stop for a few short seconds, even the cars and people and noises outside seem to be silenced, and it’s just the two of you, it’s just her inside of you and the air between you that you both share. You lean forward and kiss her chin, kiss her cheek, kiss her jaw, and then she captures your lips between hers. You expect it to be soft, but it’s not, she pushes against you urgently, and suddenly, as all the noises come back, you realize it’s not just you – she feels the same way.

Insecure.

Curious.

Turned on.

Katie pushes a second finger into you, and fucks you slowly, lazily, without urgency. And still, it sets you on fire. It makes you burn like she’s a flame and you’re too close to her, you feel like nothing can quench the desire burning your limbs, your throat, in the pit of your stomach. Her slow strokes only stoke it, they don’t bring the relief you thought they would. You feel hot and slick and sticky, you feel trapped in your dress, trapped between Katie’s fingers and her lips and her body and the couch at your back, and the only way to move on is to go forward, so you push yourself onto Katie’s fingers with a roll of your hips. You hear her sigh softly, so you repeat the motion, repeat it a third time, a fourth, a fifth, until she isn’t fucking you so much anymore as you’re fucking yourself on her fingers. You close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of pure bliss this gives you, relaxing around her, trusting her to take care of you. Katie lets you for a while, she lets you take over until you feel like you’re in charge of the situation before she brushes her thumb against your clit, and you almost come.

Your eyes fly open to tell her that, to warn her to … ask her for permission? … you’re not sure yourself. Katie is looking at you in concentration, her cheeks red, her teeth digging into her bottom lip that is even redder, her eyelids low with hazy want. She looks so beautiful, and you feel a surge of pride at the thought that you are the one doing this to her. But then you see something behind her … and you freeze.

It’s Javi.

He is watching you with an expression that is utterly unreadable, and you only know he isn’t frozen because he is clenching and unclenching his right hand in rapid movements. You don’t know what to do, you don’t know what to say, all you can think about is what he might be thinking, but you can’t read his expression. Why can’t you read it? You grip Katie’s wrist and try to push yourself into a sitting position. Katie stills her hand and follows your gaze over her own shoulder. As soon as her eyes land on Javi, he steps towards you.

“Stop that,” he growls.

That’s all the evidence you need. You can tell you’ve fucked up by the way his eyelids lower, by the weight he puts into each step as he walks towards you, by the slight tremor in his voice. The intense pleasure you’ve been feeling this past quarter of an hour is replaced by intense panic, one you can taste on your tongue – metallic, sharp, bitter. All you can think about is to explain to him that you don’t know what you’re doing, that you will make sure you won’t see Katie ever again, that this doesn’t mean anything.

Liar, whispers a voice in your head. You fucking liar.

But Katie isn’t moving, her fingers are still inside of you as she watches Javi walk toward you. You squirm and try to push yourself off her – how does she not see the look in his eyes? How does he not want to run and hide?

“Stop that,” Javi repeats, and it sounds softer now, more exasperated.

You want to tell him that you’re trying, but before you can say anything, before just one weak sound leaves your lips, Katie uses her free hand to push you down into the couch again with so much determination that the air is punched from your lungs. She’s so much stronger than she looks, and if you didn’t feel like your entire world was falling apart, her strong grip on your hip would turn you on.

“What -?” you gasp.

Neither of them is offering you an answer. Katie’s eyes are on Javi and Javi’s eyes are on the floor, the coffee table, the wall … anywhere but on you. He lets himself fall into his old leather chair opposite the couch, not even taking off his worn leather jacket, and pulls out a packet of cigarettes. He proceeds to light one as if he has all the time in the world, as if he was the only person in the room, coming home from an exhausting day at work, trying to unwind, as if there weren’t two women opposite him, his girlfriend and his colleague, one buried knuckles-deep in the other.

He leans back, the cigarette between his lips, and you forget how to breathe. It’s just him now, his intense, hard gaze on you, and you know you couldn’t move even if you wanted to. He pins you down like a fragile butterfly, and all you can do is take it. Katie also doesn’t move, she waits for Javi as a quiet tension settles around you. Javi takes a slow drag on his cigarette and regards you to with deep, dark calmness before he finally speaks.

“Go on then,” he says with a small nod, “make her come.”

You whimper pitifully, all the tension you’ve been holding in your muscles leaving your body as you flood Katie’s fingers with your arousal, as you clench around her tightly.

Katie smirks at Javi. “You know, I think she’d really like that,” she tells him.

Of course you would, there is nothing you want more right at this very moment, but it’s all so much. Katie picks up the pace again, and all you can do is sink back onto the couch and take it, as Javi watches the two of you casually, smoking his cigarette as if he’s standing on the sidewalk waiting for a taxi, as if he’s on his lunch break trying to delay the moment he has to go back upstairs to his desk. Katie’s eyes are on you but her gaze flickers over to Javi once in a while as if she’s looking for validation and praise from him. When she’s looking at you, you feel your throat close up, you feel like you can’t breathe, but when she’s looking at Javi, you’d do anything to pull her attention back towards you.

And Javi? Javi is looking at you, mostly, right at you, and his gaze never flickers, not for one second. You can’t remember the last time you were this wet, this desperate. Katie’s fingers are stroking you, are gliding in an out of you with ease, while Javi watches every movement with interest, while he watches to see what someone else is doing to you, while he studies your heaving chest, your trembling thighs, your hands balled into fists.

Then his eyes flicker down, and he watches Katie’s fingers, watches them disappear and reappear, her slim fingers, coated in your slick. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you know exactly what he is thinking about. It makes your breath hitch, makes you grab Katie’s arm and hold on tight. Katie presses a quick kiss to your damp forehead, but Javi interrupts her.

“Slower,” he says, lighting another cigarette, “make her want it.”

Katie immediately follows his orders, slowing down, and for some reason, it feels much more intense now. You throw back your head, a throaty moan leaving your lips, as you feel Katie curl her fingers, as you feel her hit that one spot inside of you, the one Javi always finds with so much ease. She’s set on doing this right – she’s set on pleasuring you as much as she’s set on pleasing Javi. And it is too much, it already was too much when it was just Katie and you, but Javi watching you is the final straw. You’re so wound up you’re not even sure you’ll be able to come, no matter how well Katie is doing, no matter how much she’s trying to get this right. Your limbs are shaking, your fingers are tingling, your breath comes in short, shallow gasps, as you squeeze your eyes shut, completely overwhelmed by this situation you suddenly find yourself in.

Then you feel Katie hovering right next to you and you open your eyes again – everything else is blocked from your view by her long, wavy, brown hair. Her lips are next to your ear, you can feel her hot breath ghosting your even hotter skin. “Shhhh,” she whispers soothingly, and the air leaving her lips tickles you, drawing a high giggle from you.

From the other side of the coffee table, you hear Javi say, “Let her take care of you”.

With a small whimper, you let your head fall back until you’re flush against the backrest of the couch. The soft look in Katie’s eyes makes you want to give her anything she wants, anything at all, as long as she does what Javi is telling her to do.

“Please,” you breathe.

Katie doesn’t give any sign that she’s heard you, and then the penny drops: She only does what Javi is telling her to do. This might not be about just you and her, this might also be about her and him. You don’t quite know yet how to pigeonhole this information. But there’s something there, something you struggle to place, and everything becomes even more clouded when you look over at Javi and see the cigarette hang limply between his slightly parted lips.

You wish you could but a finger on it, bit all you know right now is that what Katie is doing isn’t enough, it only adds to the tightness between your legs without brining you the relief it should. And the only person who could give you that relief, not with actions but with words, is Javi.

So you turn your attention to him. “Javi, please.”

Javi shakes his head like waking up from a trance and puts out his second cigarette. He locks eyes with you, and there’s a strain in his voice when he answers your plea. “I don’t think I’m the one you should be asking.”

You swallow hard and look back at Katie, whose bottom lip is caught between her teeth as she waits for you to make the next move.

“Katie, please, I –”

But you don’t know how to end that sentence, you don’t know what you want from her anymore, all you know is that you want her to fuck you while Javi watches, and that realization hits you so unexpectedly that you cannot put it into words, even though you know it’s exactly what they both want to hear from you. Instead, you stop being passive, you stop just taking whatever Katie gives you, and you start to roll your hips again.

Katie lets out a surprised sound, something between a sigh and a moan with an edge of breathlessness to it. She flings back her hair with a snap of her neck and glances at Javi. “Is she always this inarticulate?” she asks him in an attempt to regain some control.

Javi has the audacity to chuckle, like this is just a game to him, but his voice is deep and raspy when he says, “Only when she’s desperate for it.”

It’s the way they talk about you like you’re not even there, like all their attention isn’t focused on you that makes you tighten around Katie’s fingers, that makes you pull her in even deeper.

“She’s so wet …,” Katie observes, her eyes shiny with lust, looking down at where she’s buried deep inside of you, “and tight.” And she scissors her fingers as she pulls them out slowly.

You fold in on yourself, mewling in desperation. Katie does it again and you tremble around her, holding onto whatever surface your hands can reach, a pillow, the couch, Katie’s arms, her legs. She makes you feel so good, and she gives you so much – her free hand softly strokes your hot skin, making it flare up even more, her lips find your exposed neck to leave hungry kisses, her mouth whispers to you, things you usually only hear in the darkness of the bedroom, and not in broad daylight with two sets of eyes on you.

And Javi isn’t just watching, he’s observing, his elbows on his knees, his hands folded tightly, and you want to know what he’s seeing, what he’s learning about you. Yes, he is enjoying himself, you can tell from the flush creeping up his neck, from the fact that he still hasn’t taken off his jacket, too transfixed by what he’s seeing, but there is more to it, maybe more than he’s willing to admit himself.

But he is excellent at hiding his feelings, at hiding the conclusion he comes to, at hiding his needs when there is a task to focus on, a puzzle to solve.

“Well,” he says, his eyes roaming across your upper body still covered by your dress, roaming across your naked legs, across Katie’s hand, across your slick coating her fingers, “seems to me like you’re doing a good job.”

Katie draws in a sharp breath and then draws you in for a deep kiss, and you can taste the pride on her lips and tongue, can feel the effect that praise has on her in the way she bites your lip, the way she moans against you, the way she curls her fingers just so.

“Please,” you whimper when she releases you, and your eyes snap back to Javi.

Katie’s hand comes up, her fingers closing around your chin, and she forces you to look back at her. “You heard him.” It’s almost a snarl, her voice raspy and gruff, her face a stern mask. “Ask me.”

And you do, you do it with so much conviction that her eyes grow wide. You do it because just as you know she wants to impress Javi, you want to impress her, you want to hear her praise you, flatter you, worship you.

“Please, I need to come,” you ramble as fast as your tongue can carry the words. “Please, please, let me come.”

Katie swallows hard, then pushes her chin out. “No.”

You feel tears of frustration prick at the corner of your eyes, and you do it again, you look at Javi, but before you can focus on him, Katie’s voice draws you back. “I told you to look at me.”

“Katie.” It’s barely a whisper, your voice strained from the effort of not making a complete fool of yourself by howling her name into the world. “Baby, please,” you go on, relishing how her cheeks are turning red at that. “Please let me come on your fingers.”

Without any warning, she pushes a third finger into you, and your voice turns from a whisper into a scream, one that is loud enough to echo to the end of the block. You push yourself off the couch and down onto Katie’s fingers, riding her, your hips rolling with a desperation that tastes like smoke and iron on your tongue.

“Doesn’t she make the prettiest sounds when she’s full?” Javi asks from somewhere far away.

Katie nods, and if she replies anything you don’t hear it because she chooses this moment to brush her thumb against your clit … just once. You fall back onto the couch, your legs spreading as wide as possible, one slung over Katie’s lap, the other trembling from the strain.

“Shit,” you whisper, over and over, as Katie does it again and again. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“You like this, don’t you?” she asks you. “You like being on display for him like this.”

This time, you don’t look at Javi, even though the answer is yes. You love this, you love the feeling of having his full attention but being unable to participate, you love how he’s studying you, and you love that he is giving this to you, that he lets you have this, even though you don’t yet know what consequences it will bring and what it will mean for you. All you know is that you need this.

“I like you fucking me like this,” you answer.

Katie’s eyelids flutter and you feel a sharp exhale against your cheek. “You hear that, Javier?” she asks, but snarl in her voice is gone.

You don’t let him answer, this doesn’t concern him anymore, it’s between you and her now. You push down on her fingers again, roll your hips until the friction of her thumb against your clit makes you sigh in relief.

“Come on, Katie, fuck me,” you challenge her. “Show him what you can do.”

And she finally does. You feel her tremble inside of you and then she holds your hip, like she’s seen him hold it, and she pushes her fingers in deep, so deep she hits something within you that makes you lose all control. You come on her fingers, flood her hand and the couch, hear Javi’s hoarse gasp, and you can tell this is only the beginning, you know that he let you have this, but he expects something in return, and while you’re still coming, while you still hold Katie’s fingers inside of you in a chokehold, you already feel arousal unfurl in the pit of your stomach again, sharper, deeper, more urgent.

And you ask yourself what it would be like if your positions were reversed – what it would be like to watch Javi and Katie –

Katie stills her fingers, and before you can ask for anything, before she even has time to pull them out, Javi’s voice cuts through your pants, through Katie’s shallow moans, and it makes you both look at him, it makes Katie shiver and it makes your walls flutter and your eyes close with an indescribably deep desire.

“Do it again.”

taglist: @acdeaky​ | @anxiousandboujee​ | @darksber​ | @deliriouslybewitching​ | @dindja​ | @doin-stuff​ | @filthybookworm​ | @for-my-satisfaction​ | @frannyzooey​​ | @itssmashedavo​​ | @kesskirata​​ | @knivesareout​​ | @lawfulgranola​​ | @leannawithacapitala​​ | @maziken​​ | @omgreally​​ | @pedropascaldice​​ | @pedrostories​​ | @phoenixhalliwell​​ | @pilothusband​​ | @reluctantlyresponsibleadult​​ | @silksaddle​​ | @skyshipper​​ | @softpedropascal​​ | @starrdvstkenobi​​ | @sunnydunnydays​​ | @tacticalsparkles​​ | @theorganasolo​​ | @walt-breslin​​

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña #agent peña x reader #agent peña x you #javier peña x reader x katie #javier peña x you x katie #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #i'm working on part 2 i swear #have this in the meantime

[javier-pena]

Triumvirate: Masterlist

Triumvirate: A Love Story

You and Javi have been talking about inviting someone into your bed. When you do, you begin to realize you don’t know yourself as well as you thought. And you have absolutely no idea how to handle this new situation you find yourself in.

Main Story

Part 1: Triumvirate

Reverie by @danidrabbles​

Part 2: Virtus

Interlude I

Part 3 - coming soon

Part 4 - coming soon

Part 5: Trifocal by @danidrabbles​

Triumvirate Extended Universe

Drabble set during Reverie by @danidrabbles​​ 🔞

Phone sex 🔞

BTS

Inspo tag: some ✨vibes✨ and some spoilers

General tag

Moodboard by @frankiemorales​​​

Other

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#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña #agent peña x reader #agent peña x you #javier peña x reader x katie #javier peña x you x katie #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #i've been thinking a lot about them #so i thought i'd make a masterlist

[danidrabbles]

In the Triumvirate universe (which I love, adore with all my beating bisexual heart) - I KNOW something went down when Katie and Javi went away for work together...

Hi!!! I’m loving your enthusiasm for Triumvirate, it’s a story that’s very dear to @javier-pena and me, and it makes me very happy to see how much you adore it 🥺

Okay, for your headcanon… I don’t think anything happened happened while Katie and Javier were on that work trip, because Javi is in a relationship and as of this moment in the timeline, his and Reader's night with Katie was just a one time thing. However… they were certainly on a trip together…

Send me a NSFW headcanon and I’ll write a 5 sentence ficlet about it.

(Set during the work trip mentioned in Reverie, NSFW mentions of Javier Peña x f!reader x Katie under the cut, as well as Javier Peña x Katie)

The meeting has been going for over three hours now, and Javier should be paying attention, he really should be. There’s a presentation going about sentencing, legal strategies… but he’d lost focus about 10 minutes ago. When Katie—seated in the row in front of him—adjusted her position. All she did was recross her legs, from right over left to left over right, innocent enough. If not for the split in the skirt she was wearing. Between the chairs that separated them, the one next to her empty, he had a perfect view of her exposed thigh, and as soon as he’d allowed himself to look, his mind began to drift.

He liked Katie from the start. Yes, she’s easy on the eye, there’s no use pretending he never noticed that, but she’s also smart, funny, good at her job — a breath of fresh air around the office. Not to mention how he began viewing her through a new lens ever since he started spending more time with her outside of work, since she started coming around his place more and he got to know her in a whole new way alongside you during dinners, and movie nights... A mix of that, and the sight in front of him, brings him back to that night.

Back to those thighs on either side of his head. To her sweet little cries and moans when he dug his fingers into her soft skin. And to the way she would soak his face with every order — “He likes it rough,” “Grab his neck,” “Don’t be shy – fuck his face,” — given by you, between the spiralling of your tongue around his cock, the words landing muffled on his covered ears. If he concentrates, he can still feel the way she clawed at his chest, remember the way she stilled when she—

A hiss of his name shakes him from his little reverie, and he glances up to find Katie looking over her shoulder at him, her eyes moving from him to the front of the room. Your turn, she mouths at him. He blinks once, twice, willing himself to come back to the moment, remembering where he is, that he has to speak, say something about the progress the DEA has made so far in capturing the Gentlemen of Cali. All eyes are on him, and he clears his throat with a nod, gathering his papers and making his way to the front of the room.

The rest of the meeting flies by once he gets started. He sails through the presentation he prepared on the plane, answers all the questions about budget and resources with relative ease, and finds himself on the receiving end of several firm handshakes and words of praise by the end of it. Later, back in his hotel room with nothing to entertain him but infomercials and spa pamphlets, he finds it all too easy to slip back into his daydream...

Javier blames the skirt.

#dani writing #dani drabbles #javier peña x reader x katie #javier peña x you x katie #javier peña x katie #answers #floraandfrost #ask games #i cheated (again) sorry (not really)