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pix-writes · 1 day ago

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parts left, parts gained. {javier peña x f! reader}

summary: javier filled in for a lecturer friend as they take an extended break from teaching following his return from columbia.

warnings: a little angst, sadness, mentions of prescribed medications, very soft! javier peña, oral (f) receiving, p in v sex.

word count: 4.8k

eating: explicit

a/n: idk what this is. idk why i wrote it and im begging y’all to expect nothing from it, because it’s not very good.

not beta’d or read back because i cant read my own work ok.

thank you to my sweet loves @queenofthefaceless and @theewokingdead for being so supportive as i struggled my way through this.

These days sleep feels more like a distant memory than an everyday occurrence. His body craves it, his joints ache and cry out in the form of swelling and painful locking as they beg for some sort of relief, but instead he lives the pain. He tells himself it’s a small price he deserves to pay for all the mistakes he made along the way. Not so much a reminder that he survived, more like proof that he is paying for some of the crimes he’s created in his head. Each pull of the trigger, each order that soaked the streets with blood; even if they deserved it, he couldn’t get past contributing to the blood bath.

Every ache or jolt of pain forces him to relive a memory that he refuses to bury or justify. Each mistake weighs him down more and more as time slowly ticks by.

Javier Peña may have left Columbia over a year ago, but Columbia refuses to leave him.

The shower was much too hot, the ache in his shoulders being replaced by a sharp stinging as the water rained down on him. The work he had completed on the ranch already that morning had added to the months of exhaustion he was drowning in.

He had been to see a doctor, was making weekly trips to a therapist and they’d both suggested medication. The latter wrote a script for a low dose sleeping aid that he refused to touch. It took him two days to pick up the prescription, he slowly stalked each aisle of the pharmacy owned by the lady that still affectionately referred to Javier as mijo - he had once spent his Saturdays sweeping the floors and refilling the Candy shelves to earn a little money and after his Mom had died.

She could see the years of disruption in his eyes. She could feel the way that half the people in her store looked upon him as a hero and the others still glared at him for leaving his childhood sweetheart at the altar.

Javier barely said a word to her, if he was honest he barely spoke to anyone these days. He responded in short answers to his therapist, some weeks he would start to give a little more and then for weeks afterwards he’d seem to scale back even more. His dad would get tidbits of information if and when Javier was willing to share it, but knew not to press on him.

The only time he ever really spoke was on Tuesdays and Thursday mornings when he filled in for a professor friend that had taken an extended leave of absence at the college he taught.

Criminal Justice. Justice. The word felt heavy on his tongue. Some days it felt like it would slip back down his throat and slowly choke him and maybe one day it would.

He stood there in front of those kids, dodging questions and snide remarks about what he had been up to when he was taking down Escobar and the Cali Cartel.

His schedule today would find him completing his lecture and making his way to the airport. He had been asked to attend a conference by the department head at the college, he would be attending with his teaching assistant and they’d be spending two nights in a hotel in Houston.

He finished up his shower with a groan and got dried and dressed before pulling a few shirts, pants and clear underwear into a suitcase. His fingers lingered over the orange bottle that housed the pills he had been so reluctant to take, ultimately sweeping them up with the tips of his fingers and just dropping them unceremoniously into the case, before zipping it up and making his way downstairs.

“You fixed up the gate?” his father called out from the paper he was reading and sipping his tea behind.

“Needed to be done,” he said with a slight shrug, “I got this conference so figured I'll get it done before I go.”

Chucho hummed out a sharp mhmm, the words that he wanted to say being kept back by years of knowing when to keep his mouth shut when it came to his son. He folded over his paper and placed it down on his lap, “You’ll give me a call when you get to Houston, let me know you arrived okay?”

“Course, pops, I'll see you in a few.”

The door lightly slammed shut behind him and he made his way to his truck, throwing his case in the back and climbing in and soaring towards the college.

A few days somewhere else might be a nice reset, he soothed to himself.

You were nervous. The backpack filled with far too many clothes rested uncomfortably on your shoulders as you walked into the lecture hall… and fuck you were late.

Traffic had been a nightmare and your stomach was filled with butterflies, you hated conferences and you hated having to mingle even more. The rooms always filled with men who seemed hellbent on tripping you up and raising an eyebrow at your choice of career.

You were secretly excited to spend a little time with Javier though. He was kind, quiet, always happy to help and the fact he’s outrageously handsome doesn’t help either.

Both of you had immediately hit it off, and you’d realised very quickly that certain subjects seemed completely off-limits to Professor Peña and he respected that you never pushed when it seemed like no one else had a problem with pushing him.

He simply nodded at you as you entered the lecture hall, eyes flickering back and forth to the crowd and you as you made your way to the desk on the far right hand side of where he was discussing the importance of time, and how rushing into something seldom ends well.

It never stops fascinating you how he pulled the attention of everyone in the room with very little effort, he didn’t need to create a fuss or spend hours working on displays to earn the attention of people; it was just him and his experience in the field that captivated people.

And sure… there was the old class clown that would make stupid comments or continuously reference Columbia and the rumours of reputation he had there that had followed him back to Laredo, but he never retaliated. He’d just ignore the comment and swiftly move on.

You took notes as he went on with the lecture, watching in awe as he took the time to make eye contact and answer each sensible question that was sent his way with his students. His hands tucked into his pants pocket as he did so. You’d made a joke the week before about how he needed a tweed jacket with elbow patches and then he’d really have the look and your heart fluttered at the memory of his eyes flashing up with something that didn’t just resemble sadness for a few seconds.

The minute the lecture had finished he gestured for you to meet him in the office on the side of the hall and you wasted no time in following him.

He handed you a small folder that housed an itinerary and a few pamphlets to local bars, restaurants and attractions situated around the hotel in Houston.

“I figured these would be of more use to you than I,” he said with a smirk, “Room service and the hotel bar will suit me just fine.”

“Same,” you replied with a little too much gusto and you couldn’t help but notice the way his lips curled up for a split second, “I’m uh- not a big fan of navigating places I don’t know well.”

“Gotcha.” He says before reaching into his own folder, “One last thing, so we only got one parking permit for the airport. So I was going to leave my truck here and I’ll get a cab to the airport and you can have the permit.”

“You don’t trust my driving?” you ask with a smirk, “What sense does it make for you to pay for a cab, Mr Peña?”

“Just Javi. And if you’re sure. I didn’t want to be presumptuous.”

“Feel free to presume away,” you quip back with a smile, “I need to grab some paperwork from the teacher's lounge but I'll only take a minute. It’s the beat up black sedan parked next to the library.” You hand him your key and he gives you a polite smile in return.

He barely talks on the ride to the airport, his hands resting comfortably in his lap as he looks out the window, occasionally tapping his finger to the hum of the radio.

“Have you ever been to Houston before?” he asks as you search the parking lot for a space.

“Nope, this will be the first time,” you say with a shrug, “I wanted to visit Houston as a kid but money was tight. I was really into Space and I've been meaning to visit since the Space Center opened a few years ago.”

“Mhmm,” he hums back before pointing out a spot, “Well, tomorrow is full, but maybe Saturday before we fly home. We’ve got an evening flight.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Why does liquor always taste better in an airport?” you ask, breaking the comfortable silence you had been sitting in for the last half hour.

“I think it’s psychological,” he says with a grin, “You have to pretend it tastes better to justify the price.”

You giggle at his response before taking a bite of the burger that he had insisted on buying you lunch for driving him to the airport.

“I keep having to remind myself they’re not taking me back there,” he says, staring out at the planes with a laugh that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

It’s almost instinct the way your hand reaches out and covers his, giving him a few reassuring squeezes before pulling it back. “Not all of you came back, did it?” you ask with a soft gentleness to your voice that wasn’t there before.

“No,” he replies quickly.

The flight was quicker than they thought it would be, the wind seemed to be blowing in favour of the plane and it ended up on the tarmac twenty minutes earlier than expected.

Javi insisted on letting you have the window seat and didn’t complain once, not even when the lady beside him ended up using his shoulder as a pillow after falling asleep within minutes of being in the air. He stifled a laugh when it happened and just accepted his fate, graciously staying as still as he could as she enjoyed her slumber.

Secretly a fleeting feeling of jealousy swept through his stomach when he saw how easily she drifted off, how comfortable she was just letting herself sleep surrounded by a bunch of strangers and how she remained asleep until the pilot announced that the plane would be landing shortly.

She said nothing to him as she slowly lifted her head off of his shoulder, she just looked around and sighed as she realised she’d slept the entire flight.

“Straight to pick up the rental car and onto the hotel or did you want to go anywhere first?” he asked as you de boarded the plane.

“The hotel sounds good,” you say as you follow closely behind him, watching the way he seems to effortlessly weave throughout the crowd.

You perch on the edge of the sofa with both of your cases in front of you in the rental store as he chats to the clearly enamoured girl working behind the desk, you wonder if he’d flirt back if you weren't waiting there for him. But he seems almost oblivious to her affection, so focused on the task he’s in the middle of doing, that he somehow can’t see the way she’s fluttering her eyelashes and not so subtly pushing her cleavage together in the top you’re almost certain he can see down.

You’d heard the rumours, you’d read the articles and you’d been in Laredo long enough to know that Javier Peña had a bit of a reputation for being a ladies man, but you’d never witnessed it first hand.

He was always professional, always kept the students that kept no secret of finding him attractive at arms length and didn’t seem interested in crossing any lines with the female professors that shamelessly flirted with him in the staff room. Honestly, you had spent many nights wondering if he had a secret lover that he kept sheltered away from the rumours and lingering glances.

“Ready?” he calls out before grabbing both of your cases and making his way to the car.

“You know that you had an admirer back there?” you ask with a grin, “I could feel her shooting dagger into my back as we walked out the store.”

He scoffs before laughing, “She wrote her number on the pamphlet and promised to show me the best bars in houston.”

“Oh,” you say with a raised eyebrow, “Sounds like you’ve got a busy few days ahead of you.”

Jealousy is an ugly emotion and you bite down on your lip in an attempt to keep it at bay, you had no right to be jealous, and you didn’t want to make things uncomfortable by coming across as so.

“No,” he says, momentarily taking his eyes off the road to glance over at you, “I politely declined.”

He wouldn’t deny it if someone asked if he found you attractive, he doesn’t think he’d be able to. He’s thought that you’re gorgeous since the first time you bounced into his office, arm outstretched as you introduced yourself with a giggle that seemed to burrow its way into his chest.

You were smart, funny and you never made him feel like he owed you any explanations. From the moment he’d left Columbia he was bombarded with questions about where he’d been, how he took down Escobar and a few had even dared to ask how he could bear to show his face around Laredo again. The few small minded folk somehow louder than everyone else as they’d bought up his past mistakes and continued to berate him for it, as if he hadn’t been punishing himself for years and years.

It made him comfortable knowing he could sit down next to you and have a conversation that wouldn’t end up with you asking questions about things that he wasn’t ready to talk about. And thinking about him wouldn't be able to deny the relief he felt when he found out it would be you accompanying him on this trip.

You were easy for him to be around, always helpful, always cheerful and he was starting to look forward to the next few days.

“No,” he repeated sternly but fairly to the hotel receptionist, “It’s two rooms. I have the confirmation here.”

“There was an issue with the booking,” he said with an uncaring tone as he slammed the key down next to Javi’s paperwork, “We don’t have a second room to give to you, the company will send a cheque to reimburse you for the mistake, but we are fully booked and there is nothing else I can help you with at this moment.”

Javier bites down a growl as he swipes the key from the counter and looks across at you with sorry eyes, before walking towards the elevator.

“I’ll take the pull out,” he said not meeting your gaze, “Or I can find a different hotel if you’re uncomfortable sharing.”

“I'm not uncomfortable and you’re not taking the pull out. I am. You know you panic too much, Javi.”

“So I've been told,” he says with a slight roll of his eyes as he enters the elevator.

You bounce down the hall to the room, unlocking it and swiftly letting yourself in, Javier trailing closely behind.

He sighs from the frame of the door behind you as you stand in the middle of the room, “No pull out?”

“Nope,” you say with a shrug, “Just a regular couch. But I’ll be comfortable enough.”

“No you won’t.” He says from behind gritted teeth.

“Yes. I will. I’m going to take a shower, you’re going to order room service and we are going to take full advantage of the fact the department is paying for it all,” you grab your case from his hand and make your way into the bathroom, “I want whatever costs the most.”

“That water pressure is phenomenal,” you say with a giggle as you run your fingers through your hair and place yourself down next to him on the sofa. “Did you order room service?”

“Yeah, it shouldn't be too long. Hope you’re hungry because I might have gone a little overboard.”

“Sounds perfect,” you say as make yourself comfortable on the little couch and watch him channel surf before settling on Wheel of Fortune.

“I love Wheel of Fortune,” you admit with a giggle, “Reminds me of home.”

“Same,” he says with a smile, “You sure you’re not wanting to explore the bright lights of Houston TX?”

“I’ll pass. Unless you want to be my tour guide? You’ve visited before, right?”

“Maybe tomorrow,” he shrugs, “Dinner, movie and bed is all that’s on

the agenda tonight.”

His mind races for a few seconds as he considers taking a sleeping pill as the situation he’s in catches up to him. He doesn’t want to keep you up, he feels waves of guilt reaching back and forth in his stomach at the fact you’re adamant he gets to have the bed and just as he feels his anxiety begin to rise, he’s pulled back into the present by your sofa hand reaching out and gently squeezing his thigh.

“You still with me?” you ask gently as you begin to recognise the signs of an anxiety attack.

“Ye-yeah,” he stutters before the sound of rapid knocking at the door makes you both jump, “Hungry?”

The evening flies by, you both settled down comfortably on the bed as you watched a movie together. Still picking at leftovers from the feast you had delivered to the room.

“Me and my old partner Steve were sent on a stakeout in Medellin and ended up in this hotel that was far too fancy for either of us and he decided to order everything he’d ever wanted to try from the menu… Courtesy of the DEA of course! He passed out from eating too much and I spent the rest of the evening trying to focus on the target and not killing Steve for snoring so loudly.”

His fingertips run around in little circles on top of the bedspread as for the first time he speaks about a memory in Columbia without grimacing.

“Do you still speak to him?”

He nods a few times before talking, “Yeah, a couple of times a week. He and his wife adopted a little girl when we were out there… made me godfather after I returned home.”

“The picture on your desk in your office?” you ask as you think about it; a small child perched on his lap and pulling on his moustache as he just looks at her with an amused look on his face.

“Yep, that’s her, Olivia.”

“She’s cute. I wondered if she was your daughter for a while, and then I heard you mention you never had children of your own.”

He hums before turning his attention back to the television and you reach out again to squeeze his hand. You think it lingers for a second too long, until you go to pull it away and he curls his fist gently, keeping your fingers interlocked with his as he does so.

“Do you think you’ll continue teaching once Geoff is back?” you ask, the courage coming from somewhere deep inside your chest as you ask the question that’s been weighing on your mind for weeks.

“Maybe,” he murmurs before rubbing his chin, “Haven't really thought about it.”

“The kids would miss you,” you say with a smile, “I’ve never seen a class so interested in what their professor has to say until I saw you teach.”

“I guess I’ll have to see what they say once Geoff is back, no point making plans if they decide that don’t need me anymore.”

“Oh, please,” you say as a smile spreads across your face, “They’d snap you up within seconds. You can’t pretend you have heard how badly that they want you to take up a permanent position there?”

He breathes out a contented scoff before shrugging, “I might have a letter in my desk that’s asking if I’d consider it.”

“So much for having to see, Mr. Peña,” you say with an exaggerated gasp, “You already know how much we’d all miss you if you left us.”

“You’d miss the stories,” he quips back and much too quickly for your own liking you respond.

“No, I never ask for the stories,” your breath slightly hitches as you slowly finish the end of your sentence, “I’d miss the kind man that I thoroughly enjoy working under.”

You turn to face him, studying the way he’s studying you, already taking in every part of your face.

And then his lips are on yours, one of his hands is gripping the bottom of your chin as yours finds its place on his chest, his tongue pushing through your lips as he deepens the kiss further.

You’re not sure how long he kisses you for but you curse yourself every time you need to come up for air, but the second you’ve inhaled he’s pulling you back in for more, his mouth just as desperate as your own as you seek out to know him in the ways you’ve dreamed about for the past few months.

Your hands thumble with the buttons of his shirt, trying to remain as delicate and careful as they can as he transports you somewhere extraordinary with every trace of his lips.

Every move is slow, calculated and somehow more breathtaking than the one before. He takes his time, removes your dress in one fluid motion but slow enough so that he can take in every newly revealed inch of you as he does so. His hands trailing down your body, his lips gently latching up to the hardened bud of your nipple and his own breath hitching as you moan out a sign of pleasure as he rolls it between his teeth.

He continues his journey, his hands and lips covering every part of you that they can. His mouth chanting a silent prayer of worship as his lips reach the bottom of your belly button. He peppers a few light kisses there before lifting his head and asking a question that you have to tell yourself not to yell at in reply.

“Can I taste you, Cariño?”

“Yes.”

He pulls your panties down your legs slowly, watching your face the entire time he does so. “I’ve thought about doing this,” he admits in a whisper, “Got myself off wondering about the soft sounds you’d make as I buried my face in your pussy.”

And the second the final word has fallen from his lips he’s doing it, tasting you like it’s the most important thing he’ll ever do. You taste sweet with a slight tang, and his cock throbs with every lap of his tongue. It’s been a long time since he experienced the taste of a woman, his last sexual encounters being back in Columbia and even then he wasn’t about to spread them out and really enjoy them.

But this, this was heaven. There are no exaggerated sounds of pleasure. It is not a quick rough emotionless transaction with the ultimate goal just being his pleasure and some shared information.

He had all the time he wanted with you, and he was damn sure going to use it right.

The sounds you made were like nothing he heard before, soft whimpers, moans that you seemingly had no control over and they filled the room and provided a perfect melody to this glorious happenstance.

His tongue dipped inside of you, tasting you everywhere he could before pulling back up to your little bundle of nerves and drawing out your pleasure with a series of perfectly precise licks and sucks. The essence of you coating his chin as he pulled your first orgasm out of you and diving back in for another.

It took no time at all and the second time you came you did so with a cry of his name. He kept thinking over and over that he could get used to this, used to the feeling of your fingers tangled up in his now erratic hair, used to you chanting his name like a prayer as he came on his tongue and rewarded him with a gush of your pleasure. It was pure heaven.

He lapped up every last drop, he could have spent hours down there but he couldn’t ignore the way he cock was straining against his zipper.

He pushes himself back off the bed and unzips his pants, freeing his already leaking cock as he did so and stroking himself as he looked down at you. Loving the sight of your legs spread and bliss etched on your face, he strikes himself a few more times before moving back in between your legs and leaning down to cover your lips with his.

“Can I?” he asks and you give him the yes that he’d craved more than any other in his 40+ years.

He gently pushes a pillow beneath your hips and lines himself up with you, kissing you once more before pushing the tip off him in. The thickness of him is thrilling, it pinches slightly as he notches himself in bit by bit and finally fills you to the hilt. “You okay?” he asks.

“I'm good, are you?”

“Yeah,” he says with a chuckle, “I’m really good.”

His movements are slow, but powerful, the drag of his thick cock is almost overwhelming but you can’t get enough. One of his hands squeezes your hip gently as the other squeezes the soft swell of your breast. He doesn’t want any of this to feel rushed, so he takes his time, taking you apart. Exploring whichever part of your body he mouth can reach as he continues thrusting in and out of you, groaning in delight when you clench around him.

The grip you have on him is indescribable, the way you suck him straight back in as he thrusts out, your bodies more intune than either of you have ever experienced with another person.

His moves his hand off your breast and wets the tip of two of his fingers with his tongue before bringing it down to your clit, rubbing it gently as you everything starts to go black with pleasure. You chant his name over and over as you clamp down around him, squeezing his cock so tightly so his breath becomes shaky and you come apart around him. Soaking his cock as it continues moving it and out of you.

He pulls himself out and strokes himself to completion, covering your glistening spread pussy with his spend and collapsing beside you after he does so.

At this moment, time belongs to you both.

There is no rushing, no schedules, no deadlines to be met. There is you and him and the afterglow of your bodies meeting for the first time.

Eventually, you both move, he gently guides you into the shower where he takes you again, a little quicker this time but making sure to be just as thorough with your pleasure.

That night sleep comes to Javier, it comes before he knows it’s coming. He wakes to the sound of the hotel room alarm blaring and you groaning as you nuzzle your face into his neck.

You both arrive at the conference an hour late, and leave after barely an hour. You spend the rest of the day getting to know each other in more ways than one as he fucks you well into the night. Once again feeling the welcoming embrace of sleep and your own after he does so.

Both of you joined in some way or another until you arrived back in Laredo.

You were really right. He thinks to himself. Maybe he left a bigger part of him back in Columbia than he realised, but what he knew right now, is that he is ready to start letting thing go. And he ready to fill those gaps with something better than ever before.

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