#Javier Peña fanfic

[jolapeno]

meet me in the city where we won't sleep

javier peña x f!reader | main masterlist

summary: home: a place where we feel most comfortable, loved, and protected — where we most feel at home. except javi, who has returned from colombia and feels his home is living miles away.

childhood besties!javi x f!reader

wordcount: 9k (i'm so sorry)

warnings: childhood best friend!javi. flirting. 18+ - although just a little smutty with fingers. brief mention of drunkenness years ago. emotions (ugh) and feelings (yuk) and idiots who just don't wanna confess things but really should. javi calls you flor and you call him a pineapple. alternating times.

an: originally started for april showers, it's taken me an age to get this done because i wanted it to be perfect. i really hope it is. the biggest thank you to @thetriumphantpanda who read all of this and gave me a gold star. it would have stayed in my drafts if not for you. thank you to @rhoorl for checking my spanish.

It would have been cliche to say he fell for you in a field of bluebonnets—your dress white, face glum, hands ripping up blooms from the soil that you clutched in your hand.

Lost, aimless, both in the blue of the petals and in your thoughts as you continued to yank stems up and bring bunches to your nose, unaware of him watching from the tree. His legs swung, and a smile slid into one cheek as the leaves rustled above in the warm breeze.

It took a while before you noticed him, practically half a field’s worth in your hands, hands wound around them as your dress swished at your ankles.

“What do you want, Piña?”

He supposed, for kids, that was an insult.

“What you doing in my field, Flor?”

Javi didn’t know your name then. Now he struggled to go a minute without thinking it.

Sitting still hadn’t seemed a possibility in the days since he’d been back.

And then, that’s all he’d done for the last eight hours before he was greeted by rain.

It’s relentless, an onslaught that blurs the world into a watery haze. The kind that soaks through every layer of clothing like a challenge; the type that drips from everything, making pools in the streets and turning them into dark mirrors, reflecting the grey and full clouds from above.

Not that Javi cares.

If anything, he likes it. Finds it cleansing, like the world is being washed clean, even if he knows how untrue that actually is as his eyes follow a bead rushes across the glass of the cab.

The driver has been mumbling about the weather for the entire journey—a thing he’s barely listened to since he’d recommended waiting for a break in the weather. It was likely they just didn’t wish to drop him where he’d described, rather hoping Javi would opt for someplace warmer, most likely smokier, so that he could call it a day too.

Javi doesn't do that now—smoking, that is.

Hasn’t done since he left that apartment that never felt like his, in a city that he’d spent years in that never felt like home. Threw them in the trashcan before his Pop had picked him up, craved and wanted all the way through dinner. He’d done it once, he’d do it again.

When the cab screeches to a halt, he pays, steps out (bag in hand) and spots the phone booth all in one fluid motion. It’s barely lit, front weathered by time and neglect. Smirk curling into his cheek as he remembers you telling him about it—that on cloudless days you can see it, likes to make stories about it as you enjoy a meal-for-one or crunches down cereal.

It hadn’t been a thing he’d thought much about.

Then, it was all he had thought about.

Standing there, making a story that could become real. A gesture, kind and deserving of someone who had put up with his shit since they were children. You’d always liked those big moments in the movies—his eyes glancing over at you, finding yours big, wide and shimmering with tears that wish to glide down your cheek.

Although, that had been well over a decade ago—the two of you had remained in touch, close, or as much as he could allow. Your visit to Colombia had still felt like the sunniest day, a bright spot in a sea of dark; a day that coloured his world in shades he hadn’t known existed, that dulled the moment he’d had to bid farewell at the airport.

It hadn’t been safe for you to do another, pleading in fact to not risk it. A thing, he suspects, is not a thing he’s been easily forgiven for.

He supposes it’s why he hasn’t told you he was coming. The flight had been booked, bag packed—fingers tapping, soul hoping you wouldn’t turn him away once he’d gotten here. To the phone box over the bridge from your place—the one obscured from view by the downpour that seemed never-ending.

Because, as soon as two weeks had racked up at him being home, he found himself itching to move, to be somewhere other than surrounded by fields and the watchful stare of his Pop. Parental worry a hard thing to hide from in a home washed in memories.

Sliding open the door, cramming himself into the booth, Javi had no concern about remembering your number. It was burned into him, etched into him with a blunt tool—almost studied, committed to memory while he ticked over godfathers and the weight of right and wrong.

He remembers when you’d changed it, when your voice informed him of the move, the chance—all excited tone, a pitch closer to a squeak than your voice: no more roommates, just me, myself and I.

He also remembers the ember inside of him pleased that Tom joined the underserving list, slid under Mia and Rich as you informed him you were single again.

Sliding quarters in, finger punching the numbers—he hopes you’re home. A niggling feeling threatens to unwind inside of him as the tone drills into his skull—attempts to drown out the rain rapping against the glass booth he’s standing in.

“Hello?”

“Flor?”

It kisses his ear, your snort. Light. Sweet. “Javier Piña, what do you want?”

You sound like you did in Colombia. Having half-expected the crackle meeting his ear to be down to the distance, rather than your shoddy home phone.

Pressing the receiver to his head, a smile there—desperate to flow out across his lips and exhausted face, he moves it back. “Tal vez te extrañé.”

“Mierda. I don’t believe you.”

Even amidst the noise of passing cars and the relentless drumming of raindrops, he catches the melody of your laughter—a symphony of joy that unravels a part of his soul. It releases it, unlocks it, beckons it to be free—metaphorically makes him release his shoulders, and take a breath. The part of him hidden away, floods back through him—no longer fearful of being taken, clawed or wormed from him as he handed other parts of himself to the job, the task, the goal.

Not you, though. Javi would never surrender you.

A pocket of sunshine he’d kept close to him like your chicken-scratch letters and your tipsy phone calls when he’d caught you coming in after a night with friends.

“Where are you, Piña?”

Wiping his mouth with his thumb, he pauses. Traces his index along the hair growing above his lip, glancing out through the rain-smeared glass, the one cracked in places. Not sure if any of the lights on the other side are hers, but lingering on each just in case.

“In a phone booth on a bridge…”

He hears you swallow, loud, almost difficult.

“…right across from your place.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Smirking, teeth nibbling at his bottom lip. “Are you lying to me?”

Smirking, he stares out again. “No.”

Because he couldn’t, not if he tried. Not just because you see through it, but because it wounds him to do so. Picks at him, and makes him bleed in ways that don’t ruin him in scarlet.

“Give me five minutes.”

The call ends before he can get in a bye.

The receiver placed back, bag straps cutting into his palms again as he exits, the heavens lashing against him as he slowly walks. Taking his time. Nervousness bubbling like a broth inside of him with each step, coming up to the top curve of the bridge, trying to look up, spot you—

Then he does.

Running, coat billowing behind—flapping in the wind as it breaks out over your face: that smile. The one that lit fires inside of him, the one first doing so at the time his bedroom at home had its last lick of paint, it now peeling, cracked.

Dropping his bag, Javi isn’t sure whether to brace or not—taking three more steps forward before you collide with him. Arms around him, chest to chest, your wet cheek sliding past his as your soaked clothes marry to his.

It would be odd to say it felt like home hugging you, but it does. It feels right, safe—a piece completing him as he digs his chin into your head.

“You smell the same,” you muffle into his chest.

Javi smiles, knowing the bottle on his dresser is the one from his younger years. Sun-ruined and likely faded, yet managing to linger on his skin enough to cause recollection.

Pushing past lilies, excusing himself through swarms of bodies adorned in black fabric, Javi found you sitting cross-legged between two tall stands of flowers.

Your eyes were puffy—red, swollen—and your dress was as black as his suit; your fingers were balled around a single lily and a scrunched-up tissue, the skirt of your dress skated over your bent knees.

“What d-do you want, Piña?”

But it didn’t land with the tone he had come to know.

Instead, he extended a hand you thankfully took, pulling you up from the ground before he opened his arms—letting you move in, slot yourself between them as they enveloped you close.

Letting his best friend fall apart at the back of the church, your sobs vibrated against his bones and his chin rested on your head as he whispered he had you, over and over again.

A thing you repaid when his mother passed a few years later.

Talking had always been a skill—unless he had to discuss feelings.

It wasn’t that it was easy to lie, or that he found the idea of feeling difficult—if anything, it was as though he felt too much. Guilt. Affection. Righteousness. Protection. Each one a little harder to carry, to wear.

More so around you. The walls had to be tighter, or they’d crumble into ruin, the dust spilling all his secrets before he’d confess whatever wasn’t already written over his face. But, you don’t needle him—instead, you make him a plate from leftovers, tell him about some gossip your mom had informed you of, until you offer him your shower, your sofa and bid him goodnight.

“You’ll be here in the morning?”

“Not going anywhere.”

Lingering in the doorway to your bedroom, fingers playing the piano on the wood. “You’ve said that before.”

He knows he has.

It rises up in him like a storm, whipping around his organs, making his chest tighten as he lies down in comfort but stares up at the unfamiliar. He can hear the rain, how it pitters and patters—how it likely streams down the windows behind your curtains.

He should find it odd that he'd rather fall asleep here, than in his bed back where he grew up. A strange solace in the unknown here, a quiet surrender to the whispers he usually has to hear when the night comes.

But, they're not here.

At some stage, he must sleep, before he wakes to the scent of coffee and soft sunshine. His ears catch the sound of you calling in sick—a cough, a put-on voice, one all removed when you throw a throw cushion at him and ask him what he wants for breakfast.

That’s how he finds his knee kissing yours under the small table as your spoon scoops cereal before letting it drop back into the bowl. Just like when you were kids. Just like when you were all excitable, too in a rush to sit for a moment, stomach likely fluttering with agitation.

“You keep staring.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Flor.”

The thing is, you’re not wrong.

Each time he has a second, he lingers—gazes. Metaphorically pinching himself as he forgoes digging a nail into his skin under the cuff of his shirt, just to make sure he isn’t dreaming. A thing he finds he’s doing now, after a night of laughing until you couldn’t keep your eyes open and a full day of exploring, you walk a little ahead before spinning on your heel to smile at him.

“I have to show you my favourite place—before you go.”

He hates that there’s an end date on this. Bought himself a few days of normal, before returning to something that feels anything but.

Scratching his jaw, brows raised and eyes wide. “You’ve replaced our spot?”

Rolling your eyes, you take his hand—fingers slotting, palm pressing against his. For a moment, a reflex, he thinks of pulling away. Thinking of what else sat as perfectly in his palm as you—a thing that took, but never gave. A thing that he held more than he had ever held a woman.

“My favourite place here.”

He expects a lot of things, maybe flowers, maybe a bar, but he finds himself inside a bookshop. One with floor-to-ceiling shelves, dark wood, the large window letting in light that barely reaches the back. He supposes it’s good they have a chandelier, one that sparkles, shines—like it’s as well maintained as the shelves.

“Books?”

“Books.”

Your finger prodding into him, facing him, body fully twisted. That smile there, the one which slides into one of your cheeks and makes his eyes flick from it to your eyes and then back.

It’s there when you turn on your heel down an aisle, it remaining when he follows—when he hovers close, so easily able to pin you, cage you in between his palms.

“Which do you recommend?”

Shooting him a look, you trail your finger over spines, over the shelf they sit on. “Didn't know you could read?”

“Funny.”

Grinning, you pull on one, handing it to him. His eyes take it in, the cover, the name, the author.

“I think you’ll like the characters,” you explain, eyes lighting up as you lean. “They're flawed but resilient.”

Chewing his cheek, he swallows. Listening, hearing you read the blurb after you lift the book in his hands so you can read it, word for word as he focuses on you. Noticing the way your eyes shine when talking about something you love, the way one of your hands begins to move as you describe the plot, and the characters. Realising, that he could listen to you talk about anything all day.

“You should read it,” you suggest, as he flips through the pages. Having never been much of a reader, time being a factor, his job has been the reason.

“Alright,” he nods, tucking the book under his arm. “I'll read it.”

Your smile brightens even more if that's possible.

“Chucho is gonna be so shocked when I tell him you bought a book.”

Frowning, he follows you, leading him down another aisle. “You talk to my pop?”

Shrugging, like it’s nothing. Like the words that are about to tumble out of your mouth don’t matter like they won’t stitch themselves to him and make him feel like pulling you to his chest.

“I check in—make sure he’s okay. Done it weekly since you left the first time.”

His face falls, descends slowly. He feels it—watches you take it in as yours slowly mirrors him. And, even if he’s been thinking it, it bubbling at the back of his throat, he finds himself unable to stuff it back down—to shove it between other regrets and unsaid words.

“I’ve really missed you.”

Each word lands, your eyes widening as your nose does a little twitch as they do, before you whisper, resting against the edge of a bookcase, “I’ve missed you too.”

Sat on the rock, the sound of a car door slamming disturbed the peace. Not needing to look, knowing that gait, that little kick of the ground as you stopped in front of him.

Hand shielding your eyes from the sun, flower tucked behind your ear.

“Hello, Flor.”

“Piña. Heard you were cursing Laredo.”

Smirking, you sat next to him, nudging him over. The two perched on a rock overlooking part of the city—as his head turned but his eyes stared at you from the corner of them.

“I give it a month and someone else will do something bad enough that people cross the street.”

Swallowing, he exhaled. “Thanks.”

“Did you love her?”

Turning his head, staring at you—eyes flicking from yours to a place on your face he shouldn’t look. “Not enough to marry her.”

“Then you did the right thing.”

A thing he only believed when your hand slid over his, hooking your little finger over his.

“It’s because you’re in love with me, isn’t it?”

Snorting, head shaking, your words washed back over him and he broke into a laugh. “Shut up, Flor.”

Nudging him, taking the flower from your hair and handing it to him. “It’s okay if you do, I know I’m a catch.”

He's embarrassed that it isn't until the second day that Javi finds the chance to really admire your place.

How it’s exactly what he imagined. So very you, all cosy, muted, with spots of colour. Plants and throw cushions, blankets and wicker baskets stuffed with things he suspects you have no recollection of.

What catches his eyes are the photographs, the memories frozen in time around your walls and on shelves. His eyes sweep over them, in a trance still from the scent of your perfume mixing with vanilla from a lit candle.

Each time he sweeps his sight over, he spots new things, remembering brief conversations, smirking to himself until his eyes land on a frame that makes his mouth part and his heart clench.

Him and you; you and him. Sunglasses far too big for your face, staring up at him as he beams at the camera. The backdrop of his ranch, his home, the one he so often left behind like it hadn’t mattered.

Done it weekly since you left the first time.

The words roll around his head now. All metal and round, bouncing against other thoughts, trying to dig his heels into the present and not wonder about what kind of calls you make—whether they’d be about him, whether you’d confess things you’d never admit to him.

Your clanging around is what pulls him to the present. The bangs of cupboards and pans clattering as he stares at it—as he notices how different his build is, how many years have passed. The occasional cursing from you is a rather nice anchor that keeps him in the present.

“Flor?” He waits until he hears you hum. “Order in again, I’ll pay.”

It’s here within the hour.

A favourite, you had told him. A quick apology that you’ll be messier than last night, that you’re dying of hunger. He reminds you he doesn’t care. Not as you slide the triangle slice out, the tip kissing your chin before it’s absorbed by your mouth, sauce lingering on your lips—dust from the crust resting on your nose.

He’s not sure what’s better, the taste of the pizza or the sight of watching you. Having the chance to watch you.

“So I have to ask.”

Grumbling, he pulls at the topping on his slice. “Here we fucking go.”

“Did you like the tie I sent you?”

Half-scowling, swallowing the mouthful of pizza—recalling the box on his desk, atop files and paperwork with a note attached: One down, three to go. Written in that same handwriting he could spot in a lineup—the one he had wished there and then would be etched into him, a mark left, a thing he could brush his thumb over when his heart ached and he felt lost.

“I was disappointed not to see you photographed in it.”

“You knew damn well I wasn’t going to wear a fucking pineapple tie to a press conference.”

Pouting, you smirk. Picking at another slice, staring up at him from the floor, all cross-legged. “Thought you might have for me.”

It’s there, ebbing—words that feel far more intimate than they should—crystallising, burning upon his tongue.

I’d do anything for you.

It’s there, unwritten, pulsating and breathing in the space between you and him, existing, never diminished. Memories where it’s been all but similar rising like lava, singeing him, threatening to burn away the walls he throws up for the sake of friendship.

Because he knows what people think. Saw it hung in his pop’s eyes at his Tia’s wedding when you came as a guest, an uninvited plus one that was welcomed like you were already part of the family. Heard it, in the wind between the grass before he’d left the first time, a farewell outdoor thing, your parents crestfallen, as though they’d assumed—like he imagined a lot of them—the two of you would have figured it out by now.

Watching you stand, hand outstretched for his plate, you take it with a smile. A shout of two options for drinks, an unsurprising one chosen by him—it bubbling in the glass when you hand it to him, settling in beside him.

“Not sure I told you, but you have a nice couch.”

“Most expensive thing in this place—probably better than my own bed,” you smirk, sipping your drink. Head rolling towards him, brows raised, eyes that bit wider. “So, are you okay?”

You’re the only one who could ask and get a reply, he supposes. Those same words were said to him a handful of times, down the phone from Murphy, over the table from Pop, even on aisles of the supermarket when he’d been staring between brands he hadn’t heard of.

“I gave you a day to tell me, and since you won’t, I’m gonna ask. Are you okay, Javier Peña?” you continue, body shifting, thigh pressing against his—heat radiating from between yours to his. “Because you’re methodical. You’re not… get on a plane and fly to a different city just because.”

“You not happy I’m here?”

Grinning, all teeth—it reaching and hanging in your eyes. “Los más felices. But, are you?”

Yes. It’s all he thinks.

Chewing his tongue, his eyes drop to his soda because he’s unsure how to say that. Not as he watches the bubbles float up and burst—the song that had been playing coming to a stop, allowing the rain to play an interval against your windows.

It doesn’t make sense, in some ways: how he’s kept you—been able to keep you close. Somehow not ruined you, twisted this thing between the two of you, made it rot, sullied it with disappointment and selfishness.

“I am now,” he replies.

Good, you breathe. Letting it sit, simmer. Paper over any cracks as your eyes sparkle and remain fixed on him, tracing him as though not completely sure he’s real.

That is, until you grab the remote, excitedly telling him about the night of television they have ahead of them. A blanket, at some stage, finds itself over him, you nestling into his side—like when they were teens before the world became a problem and narcos were all he hunted.

For a while, you catch him up, explain plots and characters. Then, you fall silent, brows crinkled in concentration. His eyes slide to the side to watch, to spot the little things you do as she settles in closer, brings your legs up, and rests almost all of yourself against him.

Between one show and another, he feels the rhythm of your breathing change, your body relaxing further against him. He glances down and finds your eyes closed, features soft and serene in sleep. Realisation dawns on him—you’ve fallen asleep. His heart does a slow tumble in his chest, a wave of warmth spreading through him. All of a sudden aware of the gentle weight of you against his side, the way your hand is loosely holding onto him. He watches, just for a moment, taking in the sight of you, so peaceful and trusting in your sleep. This moment is so intimate, so precious, he wants to freeze it in time.

What else is a guy like you gonna do…

This, he thinks. Looking at you, asleep, peaceful—curled into his side, fingers around his forearm.

Smiling, he takes the remote from your fingers, turning the volume down as he gets more comfortable—pressing a soft kiss to your hairline.

He carried a single red rose down the side of your house—nudging open the window the rest of the way, climbing in like he had done years ago.

He didn’t need eyes, didn’t fancy having to explain to his parents how he could do that to that nice girl and her family. Javi had faced enough judgement, enough stares.

The only eyes he wanted were staring at him, remaining so as he stepped close and handed you the flower with the thorns picked free. “Come with me.”

Sighing, eyes averting, you swallowed loudly in the thick quietness. “You don’t want that. Your best friend following you.”

Eyes flicking up to meet his, you took another deep breath. Fingers flexed at your side, weight shifting from one foot to the other before you exhaled—louder than before.

“I don’t want to follow you, best friend.”

Then don’t be just that, he thought, thumb swiping over the tips of his fingers as he hovered, waited. Then he took a step closer, and another. The gap closed, becoming shorter and shorter—

“What are you doing, Piña?”

“Kissing you.”

Lips pursing, trying not to smirk, you took the rose and put it on your dresser. “Don’t feel your lips on mine, Javier.”

And then he kissed you, his fingers clutching at your jaw—body pressed against yours, tasting your whine, your moan.

He felt your fingers clutch at his shirt as he told you to be quiet.

Laid you on your bed of flowers, knees digging into stitched roses and sunflowers, as you arched off the bed when his fingers slid between your thighs—like he wished he’d done a handful of times before now.

He’s not sure of the time when he wakes, but it’s dark.

A contentedness in his bones that doesn’t fade as he begins to blink, as he takes in his surroundings and remembers where he is. Feeling you, warm, pressed as close against him as humanly possible. Able to see the outline of you, before his eyes manage to paint the rest, how his knee has slotted between your legs—bodies a mess of limbs that takes him back to years ago.

Javi notices how the television is switched off as you try to move, to wiggle and escape. His shirt discarded, the cool air misting over him, pebbling his skin as he slides his arm around you, pinning you tighter to him.

Brain all addled with dreams and sleep, as his awakening state tries to remind him what he’s doing.

What door he’s trying to open all over again.

“Javi…”

Not Piña, Peña or Javier. Javi, all soft and whispery, like honey dripping into his ear as he turns his head to find your stare in the dark. Somehow finding it shimmering, fixed, more than awake.

Then you whisper his name again, and it’s heavenly, a piece of it anyway. A sound he realises he’s missed more than he cares to find words to describe as he hears you push out a breath—fingers finding his arm, stroking, sliding their warmth up and down the muscle of his arm as he swallows.

It’s slow, hand cupping your cheek as he shifts his body, and finds yours moves with him. The beginning of a partner dance, one it feels you’ve both practised in small spaces but never actually have as he slides his lips over yours. Moulds them to yours. Tasting faint mint on your tongue when you deepen it—when you pay attention, listen, taking each cue you give him from the movement of your mouth to the way your hands grasp at him to come closer.

A whimper tries to break through, to escape through messy kisses and tangled bodies, but it vibrates through him. Makes him shudder with how much he wants you, moving your knee, hooking it over his hip as he slots his waist between your thighs and you gasp at the feel of him flush against you.

Practically whine.

Nose brushing your cheek, palm flat, fingers spreading out over your hip as he feels you roll your body into him, he smiles—breathy, teeth nipping at his bottom lip. “Forgot how soft you are.”

You hum, head-turning, mouth latching itself back to his.

“Forgot how good of a kisser you are.”

Snorting, he lightly bites your lower lip. “Best remind you then.”

“Best do,” you whisper, pulling him by his hair back to your mouth.

You write a poem against his lips, signing it with your tongue against his as his fingers snake under the band of your sleep shorts, tasting your moan, your hiss and whimper when he touches you like he’s wanted to since he landed back in the States.

When two fingers slide slowly inside of you, curling, the sound of his name is like a fucking sin he wants to be draped in, wrapped in, even dressed in. Him seeking, searching, finding that spot that has your legs opening for him, nails scraping against his scalp.

“More, Javi. Please—”

“You’re so tight, Flor,” he croons, burying the words in your neck, the tip of his tongue swiping over your collarbone as you grab a handful of his hair. “Feel so good around my fingers.”

Your hips writhe, roll them against his hand, gasping. Making a mess, dripping, practically gushing over his hand, as he fights pulling his hand free and getting a taste.

“Be better—dios mio—around your cock—”

Smirking, teeth nipping at your neck, “I remember.”

Head lifting, thankful the night sky is clear, that the moon is draping you in a slither of milky light so he’s able to see your eyes flutter shut. Able to witness what his fingers do to you, the effects of their teasing and the languid movements as he finds that angle, the one which makes you grind against his palm, and has your chest heaving.

He moans your name against your tongue, drinking down a blend of pleases falling from your swollen lips as he plunges deeper, walls squeezing him.

There he thinks, lips pressing kisses to your shoulder, as you dig your nails further into his scalp, tensing, bearing down on him to the point he hopes you’ll leave a mark, leave a cut, a signature of this moment he can run his fingers over.

“Kiss me,” you gasp, all wrapped in desperation as you pull at his shoulder.

His mouth only just pressing to yours when your cry buries against his tongue, when you flutter and arch as he continues to work you through it. His name breaks through messy kisses, it escaping effortlessly like it doesn’t wish to be buried anymore.

You don’t let him pull away, hooking one leg around him. Watching, not able to take your eyes from him as he retracts his hand—as he licks your pleasure from his fingers and you stare with a twinkle in your eye.

“You best fuck me now.”

Smirking, a low laugh escaping. “Yeah? Want me that bad, Flor?”

Lifting onto your elbows, he waits for a taunt, a tease—something that’ll bring him down a peg or two. What he finds, instead, is your fingers slowly crawling up his bare chest, around his neck, your chin tilted up.

“I need you, Javi. Need you to fuck me.”

“Yeah?”

“And then I wanna get on top,” you whisper, dragging each syllable out, “and fuck you until the sun comes up.”

“Murphy is a nice guy.”

Eyes narrowing, he shot you a glare—watching as you shimmied your jacket from your shoulders. Bare arms, bare legs—except for the thin tank and shorts adorning your body—that had him thinking un-best friend things.

“You jealous, Piña?”

“Of a married guy? Fuck no.”

Grinning, you moved closer—boxing him in. Staring into his eyes, in a way that made him feel like he was being seen, read, and admired all at once. “Is that because you left a bite mark on my hip?”

Tracing his fingers along your neck, he felt himself smile. That flutter in his chest again, the one which had appeared one day when the two of you were teens and hadn’t gone away since.

“Ask me to stay,” you whispered, hands on either side of him—all boxed in. “Ask me, Javi.”

Running his tongue over the front of his teeth, he raised a hand, knuckles brushing over your cheek. Wanting nothing more. A week gone too quickly. Already feeling the pressure slip back over his muscles, seeping into his bones. But he knew. He pictured it, the things he had nightmares over—even when you were far away, never mind when you were asleep in the room next to his.

“Too dangerous.”

“That it? I can learn—”

“No.”

“No?”

He stared. Thought of the things he had done. The people he had already let down. The things he had let happen to people who deserved far better. It layering, and layering, and layering and—

Nodding, disappointment spread, before it was washed over in acceptance. “What’re we eating?”

When he wakes, he expects to find you dressed in corporate and apologising in a voice that’s accompanied by a pout at the foot of your bed. The place the two of you found yourself on at 4 am.

Instead, you fake another performance. Earn an Oscar over the phone before switching to the excitable one you present to him when you sit at the foot of the bed.

There’s something there. It hangs in your eyes. A secret, a thing shifted and dislodged now your mask has slipped from the few hours of sleep and the ruining of your sheets.

But he doesn’t ask, because if he does, he fears he’d tell you things in return. Alter the way you see him. Change it, taint it. Practically ruin the man you think he went to be and the one he's returned as.

It'll hurt him if you look at him with disgust. You’ve burnt him after all, left him winded, air knocked from his lungs each time he’s laughed. All but imprinted into his mind, a thing never filed but rather pinned up and forever there, like artwork on a fridge.

“Wanna get a coffee?”

Hands pulling on a pair of jeans, buttoning them as he sees the peaks of your nipples through your white tee. And he knows your face is bare and you're dressed in clothes you just pulled out without thought—yet, you are, as always, the prettiest damn thing he’s ever seen.

A thing he thinks when he showers.

When he smiles as he scrubs the shampoo into his hair, feels the soreness at parts from where your nails had dug in. He doesn't stop beaming when he smears his palm across the glass, takes in his appearance as you open the door, a towel hung low on his hips, eyes dropping down.

“Now who's staring, hermosa.”

“Don’t be a work of art to be admired then.”

He dresses in record time, your hand swinging beside his, so within reach, so easy to grab. But he doesn’t.

None of last night mentioned, even if he knows he’s left bruises on your inner thighs from keeping them apart; even if you've left scratch marks on his shoulders from when you sunk down on him, head thrown back, jaw elongated as he rolled your nipples between his fingers.

Javi doesn't even mention it when he hears you gasp at the taste of your coffee, a noise similar to when he'd licked a stripe up your pussy, when he tasted both you and him.

It was just like in Colombia.

A thing buried, hidden underneath other topics the two of you don’t discuss. Dead parents and a town you both ran from. A thing he almost wants to change, correct, but then you stop outside a flower shop.

The sign battered, peeling. Hidden between two nicer shops, yet the scent made his nose twitch.

“You should buy me flowers.”

“Should I?”

Smirking, teeth biting your lip. “Por lo de anoche.”

Head shaking, he finds himself following anyway. Unable to stop his eyes from falling to the back pocket you shove your phone in, hand reaching, palm pressing to the globe of your ass as he hears the muffled sound of a giggle—

“Piña.”

“Flor,” he whispers, practically breathes it against your neck.

The bubble expands, knowing at some point it’ll pop. Too happy, he thinks. Too settled for a man who has a solo flight back. It’s why he drops his hand, lets you move further in, watching as you scan over already-made bouquets for one he knows you won’t find.

Because they don’t know you. Not like him. There’s not years between you and this shop—this place.

His fingers lightly roll over a stem, staring at the flower, before he has pulled it free from the bucket, and then another, and then another. Not at all a florist—or someone artistic enough to make a bunch—but a person who at least knows you. Knows that in each of the pre-made bundles there’s a flower you dislike, one that’ll remind you of something, someone.

“Here.”

You blink, eyes widening as they move from the bunch in his hand to his face. “Javi…”

“There your—”

“Favourites,” you finish, eye narrowing, lips still parted. “You remembered all my favourites?”

Shrugging, aware of how close he is to real—to something that could shatter, break. A thing he’ll do, just give it time. Feeling it wrap its tendrils around his chest, around his heart, squeezing and squeezing until your hand slips in his. Palm to palm, fingers finding their way between his slowly, cautiously, your eyes not leaving his face as you do.

“Didn’t know my pussy was good enough for flowers, Piña,” you comment, voice low, a smirk there.

“You deserve more than flowers.”

“I’m that good?”

Shaking his head, hand still in yours, he presses a kiss to your forehead, swallowing. “Siempre has sido.”

“Hello?”

He heard the hiccup, the slur of his name as he smirked against the phone—finger and thumb massaging his forehead as he heard you hiccup again. “Flor?”

“Piña, did you know that I miss you?”

Adjusting the tie around his neck, staring down at the pineapples—the box open, atop a bunch of files, in the office he should have been thankful for. “You sound like you’ve had a good night.”

You howled, the laugh all high-pitched. “Maybe I have—maybe I haven’t. What I do know is that I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“No. I love you.”

Smirking, thumb tracing an outline of one of the pineapples. “You’re drunk.”

“Still love you.”

Swallowing, he let out a heavy exhale.

“You doing okay, mi Piña?”

He wasn’t sure how to answer, how to respond. Head tilting back in his office chair, the ice melted in his whiskey and the hour so late he wondered why you were still up as you extended his nickname out into as many syllables as you could.

“I am now—okay, I mean.”

It needs to be left alone.

He knows it. Reminds himself of it when it rears its head at every second he doesn't. Because, it doesn't need to be needled, or picked at until it bled.

But, Javi picks at it all the same when you avoid his question again.

His hand slides over his face, index finger tracing a line down his nose as he waits until your laugh fades. Your fork twists the spaghetti round and round, and when it falls, it simply lands on the table between the two of you—the air tinged with the scent of dinner and the flowers from the shop.

“When were you going to tell me you hate your job?”

Your smile shrinks, like the sunlight being muted by the night. Spine straightening, chin lifting. The walls coming down both literally and figuratively, seeing you prepare for war when he’s army-less and unafraid.

“Si significo algo para ti, no lo hagas.”

He snorts, resting on his arm, letting the sheets fall to his waist. Because of course, he cares, and of course, he wants to do this. Balling up the hand beside his hip, seeing the murkiness in your eyes, the joy snuffed out and hidden, as though the hatchets were coming down to protect against his storm.

Javi says your name, softly, honeyed—delicately drip-feeding the air each letter until it’s out there existing.

One by one, it happens. Your eyes avert, chin dipping down; your tongue drags across the front of your teeth and then your arms fold. “I hate my job. Happy? I wanted it so bad—and now I have it, I hate it. I hate going in, I hate doing it. I can’t tell anyone that because it’s all I wanted.”

“It’s okay.”

Snorting, fake smile sketching across your face as your eyes harden to the point they’re brittle. “It isn’t. I left. I turned my back and got as far out of there as I could, and now I’m stuck.”

It breaks him a little.

Seeing it then, the many shards inside of you that you’re trying to keep whole. The pieces that are so worn and tired from doing their best to fit, but struggling to do so.

It’s why he protests that you’re not. He tries to rationalise and says the same words he knows you’d say to him if he called—if he had told you the truth about everything when he was over there. He tries to add kindness to his words as you continue to stare at him like you wish your bed would swallow him whole.

“—You’re saying this like I didn’t say the same thing to you, and you went and did another five years.”

“That’s different.”

“Why?” you spit, standing now, finger pointing and nose flared. “Because your job means more?—”

“No, because I’m a fucking idiot, Flor. You’re not.”

You mutter under your breath, curse him—a blend of poisonous Spanglish that has the heel of his palm pressing against his forehead.

Because it’s like last time.

The words surge up inside of him—except you’re both older now, both carrying more pain and hurt from a world that continues to pile on when bones are already struggling. Walls threw up, keeping him out in all the same ways—except now his mess is also between your thighs, and you aren’t half as good at hiding how his words hurt you.

“Come home with me.”

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

Folding your arms, your head shaking. “I can stick it out—work my way up, it’ll get better—”

“You know it won’t. Know how well that went for me.”

Then you scoff. It blended with razors and sharpened to injure. “No, I don’t. Because you don’t talk about what happened.”

“You read about it.”

“But that’s not your story, Javi. That’s theirs.”

For a moment, he sees it. How hollow you look, how weak, sad and broken. So he repeats it, the request, the offer. Come home with me. But the door shuts, locks, a bolt thrown over.

And everything, all of it, splinters; it doing so before your mouth even opens and he sees what his request has done.

“I’m not coming home just because you’ve decided you want to play happy fucking families, Peña. The world doesn’t stop turning just because you’ve decided to run away, and it doesn’t begin turning again because you’ve come home and decided what you want.”

“That isn’t—”

“You left. You left me.”

“—Flor—”

“—and I asked you to let me stay—when I knew you were hurting. I asked and you said no—”

He whispers your name, broken—like it shatters the moment it greets the air.

“—I wasn’t good enough then. So why am I now?”

Shaking his head, legs flung from under your sheets, he stands—aware he’s half-naked, aware this isn’t the time as you step back.

You shake your head, tears dangling, resistant to fall. “I bet you’re not even staying.”

“I am—”

Head tilting, a crystal tear falling down your cheek, you scoff. Loud. Brutal. “Have you even unpacked? Or did you just get on a plane here?”

Swallowing, Javi rolls his jaw. Fingers flexing at his side, staring, urging himself to find words as his tongue thickens in his mouth. Because he’s staying, he’s staying, he’s staying—

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Flor—”

“Save it.”

The door of your bedroom slamming behind you is the final sound that echoes out between you both.

It was different.

Hearing you cry down the phone—than when the two of you were younger.

When your first love broke your heart and he lay beside you on sheets covered in stitched flowers. Your head turned to him, the bedroom door open, as you teased your lip between your teeth. The tears had dried, but the rest had still been there, written in markers across your face as you sighed, staring, waiting for him to answer. “What do you want, Piña?” you’d asked, and he’d swallowed that he wanted to punch them.

Now, though, there were miles between the two of you. Distance far more than there had ever been—cities, a whole country.

“I’ll be home soon—can visit you.”

He heard you laugh, it hanging, echoing. “Yeah, yeah.”

“I mean it.”

“You mean a lot of things, Javi.”

“Flor—”

“I wish you'd never kissed me.”

It's a whisper, the way he said your name. It cracked, snapping as it left his tongue.

“I should go shower, early morning and all that.”

He asked you to stay and he heard you sigh.

“What do you want, Piña?”

Swallowing, Javi tapped his fist on the desk—tiredness having crept over him, the last ditch at doing right in Colombia suspended over him. Tell me I’m doing good, that it's worth losing you, Flor. “Have a good day, Flor.”

It’s weeks.

Eight weeks and four days to be exact.

At some point, it becomes less of a want to get in touch and more of a need not to. Your number is always there on his fingers, but his digits never dialling it when his Pop nips out to go to the store, and he’s left alone with his thoughts and memories in a house stuffed full of them.

Javi doesn’t expect anything else.

Having woke that next morning to find a note attached to the book he had bought: Had to go to work. Have a safe flight. Speak soon—a thing he both hoped and prayed for, even as he nursed a drink on the short flight and chain-smoked at the airport before he did the drive home.

Home.

A thing it felt even less of when he arrived this final time. Pulling his truck into its place, dust swirled and kicked up around him. Staring at the house that hasn’t changed much, just the paint thinning, the sun-dyeing it.

Each day that ticks by, he thinks of you. Each week that’s collected, he fights with himself when he’s sat alone at the dining table about flying back out and apologising.

Because he knows what he did.

Did the same thing back then—assumed and foolishly acted as though your wants never mattered. But they do matter. A thing he rehearses in his head when he’s feeding the animals; a thing he runs over when he’s repairing a door here or a fence there.

One week adds up, then another, and another.

If his Pop thinks things, he doesn’t share them. Just shakes his head occasionally, not asking what is wrong, likely knowing. Suspecting he wears it like the rest of his shame, brightly coloured and decorated in bright lights.

A fool’s outfit, he thinks. A thing he is, a thing he knows. It carved into him at this point. Scratched into the skin and muscle, yet everyone else sees the word hero.

It’s eight weeks and four days when the door of the party opens, the sun streaming in—illuminating the back of a person in a dress adorned with flowers. It takes a second, the condensation on his beer dripping down his wrist as he stares, trying to place the shape and the style of the hair. Not wanting to imagine, not wanting to jump ahead of himself until he hears your mom say your name, all excitable—practically a shriek.

He’s not prepared.

Yet, it’s out of habit he moves.

Like the two of you are magnets, that realised they were supposed to be a pair. The music doesn’t quiet, and the room doesn’t hold its breath, but Javi does—and he suspects you do too.

Just as time comes to a slow stop—the hand in his watch takes an age to flick to the next second as his heart hammers into his ribs. Staring, fingers itching to reach out and ensure you’re not something he’s fabricated, not a mirage from wanting so badly and convincing himself he’d never have it.

“Hi.”

“Hello, Piña.”

It weighs heavy then—clots on his tongue. Almost shapes itself into bile and rests horridly against his tongue as he follows you around, hand close to reaching out to place on your lower back, but stops when he remembers where he is.

Home.

A thing it all of a sudden feels like when you turn your head, lift your chin and stare at him—eyes full of forgiveness, and understanding. “We should talk, right?”

Right, he thinks. Trying to stop the twist in his chest from tightening, trying to stop the dread from filling him and drowning from within. Conversations never go well. A thing he thinks over, and over as his hand strokes over his face, following, one foot after the other, until the warm sun kisses his skin and he finds himself leaning against the side of the building.

“I didn’t come for you.”

He says nothing, not sure if there are any to say.

“I quit. Moved back a week and a bit ago—” your hand comes up to halt him, half-pleading with a tilt and a raise of your eyes. “—and I needed to find things for me, first.”

Folding his arms, he stretches his legs, lets himself elongate, and tries to fill his lungs with air.

“Because I’d have resented you for being right.” Your chin dips, eyes following. “A thing I would do, because you, Javier Peña, know me. And sometimes I really hate that.”

Exhaling, he finds you do the same. Head tilting, lips rolling as you take him in, trace him with your eyes as though you can't quite believe he's real.

“Did you know that every person I’ve been with, it gets to a point where I think ‘Fuck, Javi wouldn’t do this to me’?” Meeting his gaze, you exhale. “And then, no matter how much I felt for them, it goes.”

“Flor…”

Swallowing, you offer the smallest smile. “It’s never gone for you, though. Not when you left. Not when you came back, and left again. Not eight weeks ago when I should have asked you to stay.”

Tongue sticking, flat against the roof his mouth, he grabs your hand—holds it. Runs his thumb over the knuckles as you avert your eyes.

“I live in Laredo now, further north. Did you know I’m so good at what I do, people seek me out?” you say, beaming, letting him pull you closer. “Think they’d have cloned me you if I’d asked for it.”

Dragging his knuckles down your cheek, he’s unable to stop the way it flares up in him—that joy, that ember of happiness—when you smile.

“Because I don’t think I find the idea of being yours that terrible—”

“That so?”

Shaking your head, fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt, he watches your smile falter—just for a moment. “Don’t do this, if you’re going to up and leave again, Javi. Because I’d have died happily not telling you what I feel for you.”

“Not doing it again to you.”

“Okay. Then,” you sigh, sliding your arms around his neck, his hands finding a home on your waist. “Well, I guess I should tell you that I really like your moustache.”

“Just really like?” he teases, swaying you as you purse your lips together.

“Fine. I love it.”

Smiling, walking you back until your back meets the wooden railings. “I love that you love it.”

Rolling your eyes, forehead meeting his chest, he feels the laugh roll through you. Rumbling.

“You owe me flowers.”

Snorting, he rests his chin on your head. “I’ll buy you a field, Flor.”

“That’s a good start.”

Thought so, he thinks. Wrapping his arms around you, keeping your head against him, rocking you, like he's wished to do so many times before now.

Home now feeling right.

[thetriumphantpanda]

Take The Weight Off His Shoulders | Javier Peña

Series Summary | Javier Peña has been your dad's best friend for as long as you can remember. He's also been the apple of your eye since you were old enough to know what that meant. Obsessed, some might say, in love is what you'd say. Now, he's back to Laredo for good, single but cloaked in a darkness you want to unravel. Surely, now you're all grown, he'll see you as more than his friends daughter, as someone who can ease his trouble and take the weight of his shoulders.

Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader

Series Warnings | Age gap relationship (12 years), forbidden/taboo relationship, slow burn, mutual pining, outrageous flirting, descriptions of PTSD and panic attacks, soft!Javi, protective!Javi, explicit smut, reader is innocent but not inexperienced, grumpy x sunshine vibes, canon-typical violence, mentions of the drug trade, drug use and drug related deaths and violence, Javier Peña gets his own warning (even more so as dbf - he's gonna be a menace).

Authors Note | I've missed Javier Peña so much so here we fucking go I guess? Huge shout out as always to @morning-star-joy who has been on the receiving end of SO much screaming about these two.

Main Masterlist | Series Playlist

Chapters

Chapters marked with ** indicate smut.

Chapter One - my lonely days are over

Chapter Two - pining & desperately waiting

Chapter Three - where have all the good men gone?

Chapter Four - one kiss is all it takes

Chapter Five - it's new, the shape of your body **

Chapter Six - get down on your knees and tell me you love me **

Chapter Seven - i only wanna worship you **

Chapter Eight - i don’t really wanna fight, ‘cause nobody’s gonna win **

Chapter Nine - close to you

Chapter Ten - i think he did it

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen.

Extras

Fic moodboard by @cavillscurls

Fic moodboard by @sawymredfox

Chapter One moodboard by @hellishjoel

[creedslove]

dad!Javier Peña who would've never thought one day he would actually become a parent, but the moment you break the news to him, he gets down on his knees in front of you, eyes full of emotional tears he didn't even know he was holding and he would kiss your belly to show that tiny little dot in your womb their already loved and welcome

dad!Javier Peña who will definitely want to tie the knot because he wants his baby Peña to be welcomed in a steady and traditional family, he wants to call you his wife and have you sign things with his last name, he wants to see a wedding ring on your finger as he watches your pregnant belly grow

dad!Javier Peña who would protect you at all costs and take you back to his family ranch in Laredo, where you can both start a calm and easy going life together, where you can give birth without worrying if he's alright or being killed by one of Escobar's sicários and your baby can have plenty of spaces to play

dad!Javier Peña who would worry about you being immersed in all of the town's gossip regarding himself, concerned that somehow it would affect your feelings or your love for him, but the truth couldn't be further than that, as you don't give a single fuck about what people say about him, he's your man, your future husband and father of your baby, and you couldn't love him more, because Javi is perfect the way he is for you and your beautiful baby

dad!Javier Peña who can't hold himself and starts buying several things for the baby without even knowing the gender yet, he tries buying things gender neutral not wanting to compromise the baby's wardrobe but sometimes you do find pink onesies or dinosaur themed baby shoes, showing Javi is pretty much excited for whatever it comes, he just can't wait

dad!Javier Peña who made sure to paint all the walls, after settling down the color, he'd spend the whole afternoon painting, and once it's done he would be so proud his work

dad!Javier Peña who would rest his head against your belly every night, kiss the baby goodnight and talk to it until he feels his own eyes closing with sleep

dad!Javier Peña who feels so lucky and blessed to be able to have such a loving family like the one he has with you 💞

[tieronecrush]

office party

javier peña x f!reader

summary: your friend with benefits, javier, is your plus one for your dreaded office holiday party. when a coworker gets a bit too comfortable, javier steps in and shows you exactly how he feels about you.

rating: M

wc: 2.3k

warnings: alcohol use, mentions of sex, inappropriate advances from coworker, fwb, probably missing some so lmk what!!

a/n: my contribution to @pedrostories secret santa event!! was a busy holiday season so i wish i could have done more but excited to participate nonetheless. i hope you enjoy @flightlessangelwings and happy holidays to you!!! and tysm my love @northernbluess for proofing

dividers by @saradika

“Christ, where is he? Gettin’ freezing out here…” you mumble to yourself, gritted through your teeth as you stand shivering in your party attire — a tasteful black velvet cocktail dress, hem stopping a couple of inches above your knees and long sleeves with a sweetheart neckline. Fidgeting with your charm necklace, you nervously scan the entrance stairs to the history museum for the familiar face.

It’s the night before your office lets out for the holidays, and it’s also the night they host their annual holiday party. Even though it was quite the affair and your large law firm spares no expense for the event, you never really looked forward to being confronted with colleagues in ways you didn’t need to see them, and there was usually one man who would hit on you. Open bar, catered food, always in a gorgeous venue, it was a recipe for a great time or a horrible time, depending on your found company for the night. This year was the history museum, one of your favorite spots in the city. The daydreams you’ve had about taking him here pop into your mind like a flash in the pan — fleeting, and simply something to stay as a daydream.

A tinge of reluctance tugs in your gut. Was it weird to ask him here? Is he going to stand you up?

But then, there was Javier. Looking sharp as ever in a suit, one you’ve seen him in once after he stopped by yours after a late night working. Black, with a crisp white shirt and a red tie to fit into the holiday spirit. A smirk plays on his lips when he spots you, taking the stone steps two at a time as he approaches. It had taken a bit of convincing — virtually bribing — to get him to agree to be your plus one for the night, and when he did confirm that he would come along with you, the prospect of the party actually being something more bearable skyrocketed instead of the excruciating evening you usually expect.

“Hey there, querida. Why’re you waiting out in the cold for me? Debe estar congelándose. (You must be freezing.)” Javier greets you with concern knit into his brow, his big brown eyes softened and sparkling in the low streetlight. His large palms find the sides of your arms, rubbing gently to warm you up.

“Didn’t want to get pulled into the abyss alone in there,” you jest, “I don’t know if you’d have been able to find me with all the hiding I have to do from weird coworkers.”

You laugh and Javier chuckles lightheartedly, shaking his head as he relaxes in front of you. Nodding his head toward the door, he follows behind you as you lead with a hand at your lower back.

“Is there anyone I should watch out for specifically tonight? Am I gonna have to act as a bodyguard? Should I tell any of the creeps I have a gun?” Javier’s lips graze your ear as he speaks, keeping close to you when you enter and the sounds of the party erupt. A jolt runs down your spine from the intimate contact. It’s your turn to shake your head, breathing out a laugh as you limply hit your hand against his chest.

Your excitement around seeing Javier and spending more time with him was getting much more frequent and much more intense. Bordering the point where you don’t know if you can keep up the arrangement with the feelings you’re developing for him.

Friends of a few years, there’s always been a flirty undertone between you and Javier. It built up to the point that when everyone had cleared out from a dinner party at your place, Javier stayed behind to help clean up — always a gentleman — and the two of you, admittedly a bit tipsy from the wine that was flowing all night, told each other one a whim that you were attracted to each other. Both free from any ties of old relationships, you fell into an agreement: sex, great sex at that, with no strings attached. You two would remain friends and get exactly what you wanted, which was each other, without the messiness of a relationship. Something you were both jaded from.

These days, however, the lines were starting to blur on your end. Everything he did seemed to tip you further into the deep end before you finally came to terms and accepted that you had completely cannonballed into it.

Javier is a good guy. Didn’t have that reputation around town when you first met, but getting to know him in the wee hours of the morning after a few rounds, you fell fast and hard. It wasn’t until recently that you came to terms with it.

“Nobody needs the interrogation tactics or intimidation tonight, Peña.”

“Okay, okay…Tengo que asegurarme de que te traten bien. (I have to make sure you’re treated right.) One of their best employees, shouldn’t have to put up with the shit, querida.”

The air in the grand entrance of the city’s museum crackles with holiday cheer as festive decorations adorn every corner. Garland hangs around the banisters of the grand staircase that leads further into the museum, but most of the activity is in the large, marble-lined room you both stand in. Nearly every employee seems to be in attendance, people milling about in cliques and others indulging in drinking or dancing.

As both of you saunter toward the bar, the atmosphere softens with each step, the clinking of glasses and the chatter of coworkers weaving together into a cacophony of merriment. Javier grabs you two drinks, a glass of champagne for you and whiskey neat for him, toasting to the night ahead. The clinking of glasses resonates with your unspoken agreement: tonight, like every other night, would end the same way. No strings.

Amidst the swirl of laughter and twinkling lights, and the loosening power of liquor, the boundary between friendship and something deeper becomes increasingly blurred. Flirty comments dance back and forth, charged with an unspoken tension that lingers beneath the surface.

“You look beautiful tonight, cariño. How come I haven’t seen this dress before?” Javier asks, the two of you standing at a cocktail table, alone and enjoying it.

“Guess you’d have to be my plus one more often, Javi. Then you could see all the dresses in my closet,” you counter, smirking playfully and biting back the desire to mention something akin to a real date for both of you.

“Guess so, querida. Might have to make this a regular thing.” Javier sends you a wink before clinking your glasses together in another smaller toast, a smirk painting his face as he lifts the tumbler to his mouth for a sip.

With every exchanged glance and teasing remark, it’s evident that you’re tiptoeing on the edge of uncharted territory, yearning to express feelings that had long been confined. It’s unclear if Javier feels the same, but soft touches and gentle words ply you open even further, teetering with falling completely.

Then, amidst the dance of emotions and flirtations, a coworker appears in the corner of your eye, sauntering toward the table and bursting the privacy bubble that you happily curated with Javier. His name’s Jake, a man around your age who is friendly with you in the office, sociable guy with one of those “winning” personalities the partners would compliment endlessly. A guy’s guy. But one that had no problem approaching the women in the office. With a warm smile, he extends a hand towards the man at your side, introducing himself with an easy charm that seemed almost too perfect — of course, referring to Javier already as his ‘buddy’. The hint of jealousy that flickers across Javier's face doesn’t escape your notice, and you can’t help but feel a tingle of endearment for his slightly soured mood from being interrupted.

As the night progresses, Jake's alcohol-infused attempt at camaraderie with you grows increasingly unwelcome. He’d been watching you like a hawk so far, cutting in whenever Javier left to grab more drinks or when another coworker pulled his attention away to try to pick his brain about all that’s happening in the government right now. Inching closer to you, Jake leans against the hightop table, making conversation with slurred words and uninhibited want behind his eyes.

When you shift slightly away, attempting to remain civil enough at a work event, you feel yourself bump into Javier. 

At that moment, Javier turns to see if you tapped him to grab his attention, but is met with the clear look of discomfort on your face. Jake leaning in closer, eyes wandering as you responded in the conversation, clearly attempting to check you out. Frustration toward the man in front of you lit in his chest, holding himself back from confronting him and instead fully embracing his purpose for the night. If he was invited as your date, he could act like it, right?

His arm wraps around you possessively, his lips pressing kisses on your temple, and whispered words meant to keep you close. Surprised at first, but happy to feel closer to him and to relish in the protective boyfriend persona, even if it is only to keep a creep away from you.

Jake, seemingly oblivious to the change in dynamics, spoke up louder, laying a hand on your arm and squeezing, “So you ever wanna cut out of work early and get a drink? Maybe end up back at my place? You can wear that dress.”

The proposition sends a ripple of discomfort through the air. Other coworkers turn away, ignoring the advance that left you shocked and speechless. But, Javier, now fully immersed in his role, takes a stern tone, cutting in and gently maneuvering you behind him.

“Hey, cabrón, why don’t you apologize for speaking to her like that?” Javier instructs, nodding to you while your hands wrap around his arm closest to you. “Or am I going to have to find one of your supervisors and tell them all this shit myself? Don’t speak to her again, or even look at her. And I will know if you do — I’ve got eyes everywhere, buddy.”

The look on Jake’s face makes you laugh softly from behind Javier, shaking your head as he backs away and leaves with his tail between his legs. Javier turns to you, wrapping you up in one of his arms and brushing his fingers softly against your cheek.

Concern softens his eyes, the same look that he greeted you with when he found you waiting in the cold, “You alright, cariño? Fucking asshole. You shouldn’t have to deal with that, should report him or something.”

“I’m alright, Javi. Thank you…You didn’t have to—”

Javier shakes his head, smiling with one side of his mouth and kissing your forehead, “‘Course I did. Can’t let anyone talk to you like that.”

You lean into his chest and smile, lightening the mood with a playful comment, “Seemed pretty comfortable being threatening. Did it bring you back to the good ol’ days being a sheriff?”

Ever the master of evasion, Javier shrugs it off with a casual demeanor, attempting to maintain the façade of indifference with a nod, “Sure did. But they weren’t the good ol’ days.”

Hearing the smile in his voice causes a wave of affection for him that washes over you, coming to the realization that it’s either now or never. A surge of courage propels you to take the leap, confessing the fact that you see more with Javier, that you want more with him.

“I know we said no strings, and it was like that at first, but the more I’ve gotten to know you, the more I’ve found that I love you. And you can absolutely walk away and nothing will be held against you, but I can’t keep up with this if I can’t tell you how I feel.”

The atmosphere between you shifts, and for a moment, the world seems to stop entirely.

Javier's eyes softened, and with a sincerity that catches you off guard, he shares a confession too, “Querida, I fell in love with you in the first moment I met you. The second I kissed you for the first time was when I realized it. I thought maybe I could keep it all in, ‘cause I didn’t want to lose you as a friend and just as a part of my life, but I love you, cariño. Have since I heard that laugh of yours and saw that gorgeous smile. And I haven’t felt the same way I feel about you for anyone else before.”

In that moment of vulnerability, the boundaries that confined your actions shatter, opening up a door, wide and clear, for you to walk through and never close.

Away from the crowded party, you find yourselves standing in a doorway adorned with sprigs of mistletoe, a symbol of serendipity. Under the soft glow of the festive lights, Javier takes a step closer, and his lips meet yours in a gentle, lingering kiss. His hand caresses your cheek, one arm wrapping around your waist while yours rest around his neck, pulling him in for a deeper kiss.

As you break apart, Javier looks into your eyes, a sincerity shining through that mirrored the twinkle of holiday lights.

"I love you," he confesses, the words hanging in the air like the melody of a cherished carol.

“I love you, too,” you return, a glowing smile and feeling giddy for the rest of the holiday season with Javier.

taglist: @northernbluess @atinylittlepain @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsmando @ilovepedro @deathwife @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @yazsos @peppesgirl @pastawench @addictedtotlou @brittmb115 @anoverwhelmingdin @spishsstuff @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @harriedandharassed @decemberdolly @laiisleitte @fierce-bab @vickie5446 @pertinentpostmortem @livingdeadmaria @sullyosully @bitchwitch1981 @its-nebuleuse @marini03 @piercethevic03 @joeandpedrosimp @kiwisbell @planet-marz1 @txtattoostark @jrosie25 @thereaperisabitch @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @spidermanfrog @belliezz @joelsflannel @k-k0129 @cartoon-garbage04 @bianqueee04 @nostalxgic

[the-orange-tabby-cat]

Dusk

Javier Peña x fem!reader

Summary: Javier sees you again years after the end of your love affair. Torn between the memories of what happened then and what is now, you both face the weight of your actions from Bogotá to Madrid.

read on AO3 | masterlist

Rating: Explicit, +18

Warnings/Tags: past lovers, secret relationship, angst, smut (penetration, f oral), implied age gap (not mentioned). Reader has hair, foreigner (not explicit which country, she isn't American or Colombian), knows multiple languages and is able-bodied. No use of y/n, Spanish translations are between the paragraphs.

Word count: 8,7k

Tabby note: My first Javi P fic for angst challenge by @almostfoxglove 💔 Even if I go around difficult topics, most of my work is lighter, so this was a great exercise to go deep into emotions! You can the moodboard inspiration here and the list of all fics here! 🐾

now

“Are you happy to be in Madrid?” The receptionist with a pearly smile cheerfully greets him, or maybe not, it sounded more like she was talking for a while, following a script, that he ignored.

He could be in Paris, Tokyo, or anywhere in the world at the moment he wouldn’t give a damn. Tiredness has been consuming him for a while now, and the week passed at an agonizing pace. Inside his head, there is silence and chaos altogether.

Somehow, he comes to his senses already inside the hotel room. What had he answered to the receptionist? He can’t recall but he got the key, which is more than proof that the autopilot was working. Taking off his jacket, he opens the minibar and takes whatever alcohol he can find.

His head mends the last months as just one, a very lonely one. He can’t fully remember what it felt to be together with someone, closely, intimately. From family to friends, everyone becomes a blur as he tries to get his shit together. The alcohol burns down his throat, he doesn’t even mind reading the label. Once he can rest, it will be fine.

The night promises to be a long one, the timezone difference is a pain in the ass to deal with. Whenever he is about to drift away into sleep, his legs kick repeatedly and startle him awake. The clock reads 1 AM, then 2 AM, at 3 AM he decides he has enough and starts to dress up again.

Passing by the mirror, he ignores his reflection, paying attention only to what he will do. Have a cigarette, walk a little, and head back to sleep. Simple. He locks the room’s door, orders the elevator, presses the button to the ground floor, waits, and walks out when it stops.

For a summer night, Madrid is cold. The scenario is drastically different from the streets of Bogotá and further from the ranch in Laredo, everything he wanted for a fresh beginning. For a week of his time, some words on his experience, and training on how to deal with narcotraffic, the Spanish police paid some considerable money, the type of money Peña couldn’t ignore. Now, here, he is watching the downtown buildings and wondering if it was worth it.

Lightning his cigarette, he drags a puff and looks at his surroundings without much curiosity. Neoclassic buildings or whatever style they are, mostly white now warmed by the orange city lights in a classic boulevard. Not many floors, four maximum, but full of balconies. In one of them, on the third floor, a woman screams at her husband.

The small woman is shouting fast words as she throws some clothes down at the man, who tries to ask forgiveness from the street. Another neighbor, from a couple of balconies away, asks them to quit it and go back to sleep, but the woman ignores and continues the fight.

Getting amused by it, Peña keep watching the scene from his place on the other side of the street. Another balcony, now on the fourth floor, opens and reveals a confused sleepy woman. Even with the low light, he can recognize the pout on your lips.

The cigarette is long forgotten as he watches the details on your face waiting for the best moment to enter the fight. It is like a memory played in front of him, seeing you in your underwear and t-shirt, the angle of your hips making your ass jiggle a little every time you try to stretch yourself down at the balcony the floor under. He doesn’t hiss when the cigarette burns his fingertips, lost looking at you.

When the moment comes, you grab the attention of the small woman in tears and murmur something too softly for him to hear from afar, except for how you sweetly say “Vamos a dormir, cariño?” And so he walks back to the hotel to sleep.

("Let's go sleep, love?")

then

Cheerful bubblegum pop fills your room as you carefully paint your lips red. It takes a little effort, but in your lace lingerie and big hair you feel like a woman, not a girl. Next to you, an open big window lets the chill mountain breeze caress your skin, raising goosebumps in your almost naked body. 

Your dad had separated what he thought was appropriate for the occasion as if you were still a child. Being the ambassador’s daughter isn’t an excruciating task, except when you get to play into your father’s business. You know little to nothing about the USA’s DEA or whatever their mission is in Colombia, what you had access to was that your dad invited part of the DEA into your house for lunch. Sitting pretty and smiling is your task for the day.

With a pop, you touch your lips together and inspect the lipstick line. Perfect. Voices are filling the garden, gaining your curiosity. Coming to the window, you can see men in suits greeting your father and grandma as they walk on. All of them are looking ahead, but one. His brown eyes are locked with yours, inviting you to come down and see them up close.

“Javi,” someone shouts, making the man return to the group. You stay there watching him go before finishing dressing up.

In a white two-piece Chanel suit, you strut down the stairs to the first floor feeling small compared to the high ceiling. It had become a regular sentiment, to look around and see a big house nettly decorated and think to yourself “Why am I here?”.

By the garden door, the ambassador waits for you as he keeps enchanting his guests with some story. Here you aren’t his daughter, you are a state piece and it is key to remember your place in this chess game.

You can feel the brown eyes boring into your skin as the ambassador introduces you to the DEA officers. Following his command, you greet one by one as if it is normal behavior for a diplomat to know every policeman’s name. You heard him review all their names with his assistant the day before.

“Javier Peña, ma’am,” the owner of the brown eyes says to you. Enveloping your hand on his, you do your best to ignore a shiver when he puts pressure. His thick fingers leave a hot trail, his big hand engulfs yours.

Whatever you feel, he does too. 

“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Peña.” His brown eyes shine when you politely say his last name back at him.

Gathering around the table, you sit in front of him and scold yourself every now and then to look at the others, even if you only want to stare at the handsome man. He, however, isn’t as discreet putting weight in his stare cornering you.

With sips of white wine, you try to ignore it doing your part as a pretty little thing full of questions. How long have you been in Colombia? A few months for most of the department, Javier is in his first week still fresh from Texas. Have you made any progress in your mission so far? Yes, still in the early stages, they are gathering all the information about the cartels. Are you enjoying the country? The food is great and the weather is mostly nice, even in cold Bogotá. Is your family enjoying the country or are they missing the USA? They are getting or already gotten used to it, Javier is single, though.

 You laugh when necessary, showing your white teeth in contrast with the red of the lipstick. Legs crossed like a lady, nails carefully done around the glass, you are well-behaved and it shows.

“Your daughter is an exceptional young woman, your grace,” one of the men says in a sincere compliment to the ambassador, even if he is speaking about you.

“She is indeed. Even more now, after her year abroad.” You smile back at your father, who is doing the proud dad bit.

Tradition is that in your culture once fine man and woman become an adult they have to choose a place to spend a whole year, it is supposed to represent their coming of age on their own terms. You don’t count having access to everything money could get, a comfortable house, and stability as the coming of age journey of the century, but here you are.

“Where did you go to?” Javier asks as he drinks more of his wine.

“Egypt, Cairo.” You reply as you drink his facial features without shame. The sharpness of his jawline, the way his mustache heavily adorns his thin upper lip just to emphasize the plump bottom one.

“What an unusual place! What motivated you?” Another man asks, forcing you to move on from Peña’s face after a lingering second.

The ambassador loves that you can captivate the room’s attention so easily, but your father tried to convince you to change your destination many times. 

Europe was much more chic, but attending an international boarding school made you get bored by it. If the DEA knew how little you care for the USA, they would quickly find you a pain in the ass. The Middle East was much more interesting, far from the restricted embassy’s house in sunny Colombia.

“I like history, to deeply learn a culture. There wasn’t anywhere else that I could experience it so vividly. I’m glad my family could proportionate it to me.” You smile truthfully, gaining a glance from Grandma.

“Must have learned a lot, being on your own out there,” Javier states in a lower tone.

“She knows where to put her foot, soon will go to Oxford to study just like her father,” Grandma praises raising her glass in your direction.

It was a question of time before they brought it onto the table. It is a sensitive topic to you, still unsure how to navigate that new part of your life. Far from homeland, between boarding schools and the embassy, then an ocean of distance from your family, you hadn’t stuck your feet anywhere for too long and suddenly you had to choose something to call yours for the long run. It feels more than just a diploma.

“Well, if everything goes right. I still need to get their acceptance letter.” You remind Grandma with a small laugh, that doesn’t exactly reach your eyes, but nobody seems to notice.

Grandma, playing as a governess, gets up to announce the dessert order with a tentative to marvelous the guests with your home country food. As everyone gets interested in her chat, you and Javi opt to sneak a glance at each other.

In a moment of courage, you lift your high heels and gently caress his leg under the table. Gaining a smirk from him, he slides his leg to get closer to yours. Hidden by the tablecloth, you keep touching as the conversation goes by.

“Has my son already invited you to the annual ball?” Grandma asks with a smile. The ambassador coughs in surprise but is ready to charm.

“Oh, you absolutely should come. We spend the whole year planning it, a celebration of our culture at its finest. If you liked the food today, just wait until you get the beverage. We are known to be good matchmakers too, you might fall in love there, Peña.”

Javier takes his eyes from you to look at his host, who is waiting for an acceptance of the invitation. Pushing his leg closer to yours, he grabs his glass and raises it.

“I trust your gut, sir. Count me in.”

now

The national police of Spain, or CNP, headquarters isn’t far from the hotel. The district itself is bougie, fancier than what Javi was used to, too formal, too classy with the embassies and mansions. He feels out of his element, but no wonder you chose to live there.

He slept well after seeing you, like old times. Your presence always made him feel at ease, even if your departure was bittersweet. The aftermath is still with him, folded in his wallet as a reminder of what once were you both.

From the hotel to the police, he keeps thinking about you. It wasn't new, during the years his mind would drift to you after a long day, but now that you were here it is a different kind of thrill. He tries to bury it down to that place where all his failures and worries are lost, but he can't.

The job, however, is a great distraction. As soon the formalities are finished, he jumps head in on what he knows how to do. Six years in Colombia were enough to showcase his skills.

During the first break, he goes out to smoke. Sunny day, blue sky, and good weather. A nice sight of a busy fancy street. More than enough to keep his mind in the present and not lost in memories. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, he puts a cigarette in his mouth and starts searching for his lighter when you appear in his vision.

Dress pants, a white t-shirt, and a clock with a leather strap on the wrist. In your arms, a plastic case full of paper forces you to bend a little forward. Clipped on your pants pocket is a badge of some kind with the national police logo. Whoever is with you, speaks with a heavy madrileño accent, but you don't bat an eye to understand it.

To simply put, you are different. Far from the glamour of the embassy, from the party life late at night that he knew so intimately because of you. There was a time when your eyes would find his so easily in a crowd, but now you don’t even glance at him as you enter the building, too immersed in your conversation.

Ignoring his cigarette, Javi follows you down the hallways of the CNP until he reads “Traducción y Letras” on one of the plaques outside. This is more like you, classier.

("Translation and Languages")

Checking his clock, he sees that he still has a few minutes before going back to his lesson. You are alone in the room, just you and archives. He takes a deep breath and knocks on the door, you invite him in without looking up.

“It's good to see you,” he states without much thought as if it was casual to meet you there. You quickly look up at him with big eyes.

He can't read if the expression of surprise on your face is good or bad.

“Javi,” you say, putting whatever you were working back on the table. Your eyes are locked with his but without the playfulness of before.

“I thought you were in the UK,” the last time he spoke with your grandma she told him, it sounded like brand new information. It had been years since.

You scratch your neck, like you used to whenever you got anxious. He can still read you after so long.

“I was. What are you doing here?”

“CNP asked me to train their DEA.” You scoff in amusement like it is the most obvious thing ever.

“Of course, I heard something about it. Didn't connect it with you, sorry.” 

Another glance at the clock, he has less than two minutes before getting back to class but wants to stay here with you.

“Are you free tonight? We should have dinner,” he says straight to the point hoping you will say yes.

He phrased it like that because it is obvious that you should have dinner with him. It isn’t a question, it was a matter of when for Javier.

Still in shock, you swallow hard and shake your head. His heartbeat rises, ready to have another harsh goodbye.

“We can have lunch if you insist. I'm busy tonight. Just come by whenever you're ready.”

Simple as that, you get back to work and ignore his presence. You aren't rude, it isn't your nature, but it feels colder than he remembered.

Nodding at your statement, he leaves you alone and walks down to his office for the week. His bluntness will be a problem, he can't scare you away or he will be settled for another couple of years wondering “what if”.

The weight of his wallet gets heavier with every step, the souvenir of the last night you were his still there begging him to do not fuck it up this time.

After some concentration, he can focus again on training. Work was there for him when he needed to ignore the world and move on. The autopilot was carefully crafted doing the tactical work in South America and reigns free in Europe, for what it seems.

His body craves nicotine, but he needs to guarantee that you won’t run away before. In solid steps, he walks fast toward your office again. At least he thinks it is yours, it is absurd to have you, of all people, working for a police force.

The door is open, but you don’t notice his arrival. With you back to the entrance, you are speaking on the phone in a calm tone.

“Cena es mejor. Aun tengo muchisimo que hacer hoy, harta de trabajo con todo lo que vino de Marruecos.” You heavily sigh before laughing at whatever the person on the other side of the line said. “Sabes que flipo con teatro, mi amor. Ya, nos vemos en mi apartamento a las ocho. Te quiero, bye.”

("Dinner is better. I still have much to do today, I'm full of work with everything that came from Morocco. You know I love theatre, my love. Okay, see you at my apartment at 8 PM. Love you, bye.")

Javi steps back to the corridor before you turn, giving you a few seconds to sit back in your chair. It is logical, you moved on and so did he. Yet, he feels in his chest how unprepared he is to face it.

“Ready?” He knocks on your door as if nothing has happened, like you are still close and this is a regular thing.

“Ah, yeah. Do you have a place in mind?” You ask grabbing your purse and leading the way out, following his play-pretend of acting normal about whatever you two had become.

then

If your lips weren’t so busy kissing Javi’s, you would kiss the landscaper who projected the embassy’s garden. Far from the noise inside the ballroom, further from curious eyes, illuminated only by the moonlight and shadowed by a centennial tree. In the garden’s corner, you are peacefully focusing only on Javi’s body reactions to yours.

How his big hands are divided between caressing your neck and holding your waist so close to his, you can’t but throw your arms around his neck to flush his body into yours. 

You didn’t bring a coat, even if is a chilly night. The heat emanating from him to you keeps you warm, almost burning where the skin meets.

You hadn’t touched a single glass since the party started, too busy waiting for the right moment to come to him. Through the open kisses, you taste on his tongue cigarettes and champagne, getting you drunk with every twist and turn.

Your lipstick will be smudged from the pressure of his lips, that’s why you kept the package and a mirror in the pocket of your dress for a small maintenance before going back to the party.

Your neck, hopefully, bruised with every nibble and hot kiss he inflicts on the tender skin, so you opted for using your hair down to keep to yourself the souvenirs of the night.

With a soft moan, he kisses you back before putting some distance as he catches his breath. You want more, so you pressure your open mouth on his again as he softly laughs.

“Eager, huh?” He asks with his thumb making soft circles in your jaw. You nodd back, positively drunk of him.

Everything became Javier Peña the moment he left the diplomat’s house. You counted the days until the annual ball, daydreaming about your next meeting. From the dress to your position in the room, where you could easily see every guest's entrance, it was all a conscious choice.

You saw him before his brown eyes locked with yours. His regular suit, not a tuxedo, appeared to be out of place when sided with your gown, but you didn’t mind a bit as you made small talk waiting for the moment for you to lead him outside. Dividing the attention between guests, you moved inside the ballroom from one person to another, brushing your hands in his whenever crossing his path.

Inside the ballroom, you were a state piece, but in the garden in his arms, you are you.

It started small, as you softly spoke to each other walking further in the garden. Javi isn’t a man of many words, but for you, he tries. When the last guest went inside, you threw yourself in his arms and happily kissed until he lost his breath.

With the moonlight, his sharp profile is a heavenly vision. In his embrace, you wish for nothing but to be there with him forever. Putting both hands on your face, he kisses your lips one final time.

“We should go, people will start to ask questions,” you whisper glancing at the party. His eyes follow yours before his hands leave you to look for a cigarette.

“Want one?” You shook your head, remembering how he tasted seconds ago. “Not a smoker?”

“No, but I like the smell, though.” Licking your lips, you inhale big hoping to look less flustered. Javi stares at you nodding slowly, pondering about what you said.

Taking your pocket mirror and lipstick, you adjust the makeup as he finishes his cigarette. Your eyes roam his body looking for any clue of what just happened, his tie is crooked and he has lipstick in the corner of his mouth.

His eyes stay on your face as you straighten his tie until perfection, they focus on your freshly painted lips when you clean the lipstick on his with your thumb. Looking up at him, you take a deep breath.

“Perfect, shall we?” You suggest and he gives you his arm, taking you back to the party like nothing happened. Just an innocent walk in the garden, a good host for a guest that didn’t match with the ambient he was in.

It is the first of many nights where nothing and everything happens.

now

The sunlight finds your eyes the moment you leave CNP’s door, Javi can’t remember when he last saw you out in the sun. Maybe he never did. The hue of your iris is pretty just like your face, your stare is more like a woman now. 

You used to be all smiles next to him, clingy even, constantly touching him in the privacy of taxi cabs. He used to think about holding your hand in public, wonder what would feel like to touch you in front of everyone. To claim you out in the open, where you could be just his.

He signals for a taxi, you enter it giving the driver the restaurant’s address just to be quiet in sequence. Sitting far from him, your eyes are distant in the street, ignoring his that inspects every inch of your body.

Javi never learned how to deal with frustration, so he does what he can and lights up a cigarette.

“Do you mind?” He questions remembering how you would watch him exhale smoke with lust, pressing your body closer to his post-sex cigarette. In the late night of your meetings, the first thing you did was to smell him and close your eyes in comfort.

With your eyes still looking through the window, you speak in what appears to be lost in thoughts.

“A little, don’t like the smell of it.” 

He immediately flicks the cigarette out of the car window.

The restaurant is nice, as he expected. Not too fancy, with a minimalist ambiance and small menu. Even if some things are different, you remain the same in others. You wear glasses to read, he isn’t sure if for aesthetic or prescription. The crimson red lipstick is a more cherry tone. You hadn’t smiled yet.

When the waiter leaves and you put down your glasses, he can’t take the silence anymore.

“Didn’t expect to see you working for the police.” A simple statement, you are intelligent and more academically inclined.

“I don’t. I work for their intelligence, translations, and interpretation. I don’t do field work.” Your eyes finally look at his, it bothers him the lack of passion there.

“You do back office work then?” He tries to stretch the conversation to any clue what your life is like.

“Something like that. I work for the government, not the police. Spain has ultramarine territories, plazas de soberanía if you prefer, my job is to provide verbal and cultural translations of information that they might have an interest in. It’s more about the countries that neighbours the territories than these cities.”

“You learned Arabic.” This makes you smirk. 

It was an old wish of yours, you wanted to read more, to experience the culture in another way. It wasn’t unusual for you to switch between languages during the day back then, to him you reserved a few words in your native language when alone.

“I did. There’s a diploma that proves it.”

University is a topic he isn’t keen to speak about. 

The day you left Colombia to never come back is burning inside his mind, the folded paper in his wallet flashes into his head. He wants to open it up on the table, to interrogate you about it like a fugitive, instead, he chooses another topic.

“Why Spain?”

“Why not?” Your eyes are defiant, you understand what is behind his words. You hated Europe, you tried to stay away, why here?

“You could be anywhere in the world, so, why Spain?” He tries again, watching as you bring your hand to the neck.

“I don’t know.” Looking back at him, you keep your voice soft. “Guess it ties parts of my life. I came here as an intern, when the time came the intelligence decided to keep me and I stayed. It feels familiar to listen to Spanish all day. Almost like home, if I have one.”

“You hated the accent, always preferred the South Americans.” It sounds bitter because it is bitter.

Javi wanted to meet the version of you he knew all about, to come back to the day you left and continue from there.

“Relajate, tío. No te cabrees tanto.” You tease doing the Spaniard lisp. He rolls his eyes in response.

("Relax, tío. Don't worry about it." Tío is a traditional slang in Spaniard Spanish, similar to dude.)

“Your grandma was sad when I last saw her, you didn’t visit enough.”

Javi saw her two times after your departure. One when he went looking for you in the diplomat’s house just to be received by the elder woman who informed him that you had gone away already. The other one was on an official visit to the embassy, where he politely asked about you to receive a sympathetic look from her. “She never stays longer than a weekend.”

“Got tired of Colombia. Seems that you feel the same, you left.” Two can play this game, now is your time to be bitter. You are right, he can understand how you feel about it.

“Finished my mission, it’s different.” He is being reasonable.

“And I left to find one. Who says that this isn’t my mission?”

Enough. Javi always hated games.

“What will you watch tonight in the theatre?” Your eyes subtly widened with the realization that he heard you on the phone.

You open your mouth to reply, but the waiter comes with the food forcing the conversation to an end.

then

With every night spent together, you understand less why you are lying. Javi has a respectable job, treats you well, and, on top of everything, the sex is amazing. He makes you feel like the one, yet, you get to be with him only in the shadows.

It starts with quick whispered calls between the house and the DEA to schedule late night meetings, evolves to random encounters in restaurants and bars far from the embassy district after the sun goes down, and ends on your bed after midnight.

Quickies in his car parked in an alley, heated kisses with hands all over the place in the back of a cinema, and ends up on your bed. All paths lead to your bed.

You know every freckle in his body like it is yours, you kissed all the corners and folds in his skin. He learned when to shut you up before moans get too loud to echo through the house, the exact rhythm of his hips thrust into yours that makes you see stars. You know when he will close his eyes ready to come, appreciate how much he likes to give your face little pecks right after.

There is a lighter inside the drawer of your bedstand in case his don’t work. A jacket he once forgot is hidden far in your coat rack waiting for you to wrap yourself around it on the nights you don’t see him. You sleep on the right side of your bed because the left one is his, but only until before sunrise.

Months of obsession led to this. With perfumed skin and the red lipstick he loved so much, you met for what was supposed to be just a couple of drinks. Javi don’t make it so simple.

Two shots of aguardiente and his tongue taste like anise, which you never really liked, but here you are savoring like it is your last meal. He is drunk and whispering sweet nothings between kisses in the back of the bar.

“Stay with me,” he supplicates as if it wasn’t obvious, you laugh at the absurdity of it.

“You say like I have other plans,” his pupils dilate making his eyes almost black, staring right at you. He smacks his lips into yours hungrily with a groan, earning a full moan from you.

“I mean it. Don’t go,” the words hit you like a bullet.

Don’t go to Oxford, stay here. You thought about it since the acceptance letter came weeks ago, if you should ignore it and study in Colombia instead. It is irrational, you know that you will choose yourself over him in the end, but it sounds lovely to be just his in this fantasy.

He senses your hesitance in giving in, so he pushes a little more.

“I like you, stay,” with a low voice, murmuring like a prayer on your lips.

Your brain gets foggy and you listen to it as I love you, wishing to be the same, to have the semantics of it changed to what you want.

That night you think you made love, not sex. You mistake lust for passion, that his stare is of devotion and not of arousement. He gets inside your body and you don’t care about how vocal you are, focused only on his reactions to your nails scraping his skin.

You are sat by the bed, wrapped by the bedsheet as he uses your lighter on a new cigarette. The window by the vanity is open, welcoming the moonlight to shine on his tan skin and create a halo around his profile. He is up to smoke into the air of the night, fully naked so you can see the red marks on his back.

“Stay,” is your turn to plea. He exhales smoke before looking at you.

“We can’t,” a sober Javi says and you miss the drunk him.

“And? Stay, just for tonight.” You smile biting your lip, wanting to wake up tangled limbs with him.

“It’s better if we don’t.”

With a final puff, he puts away the cigarette and kisses your head before dressing up.

“I have a big lead to search on early tomorrow. I can meet you another time this week, maybe.” His eyes don’t find yours, you feel cheap, even if the sheets around your body are expensive.

With a nod, you try to put away the apprehension and give him a chaste kiss followed by a smile before putting on a robe to take him to the door.

The big house seems bigger in the dark, the coldness of it makes you embrace yourself to get heat. By the door, he puts his hand on your jaw and you lean on it, seeking comfort. He kisses you deeply, but softly, before walking out.

Dragging your feet to the stairs, you do your best not to remember the drunk Javi's words, to not give in to the fantasy. Getting to the top, Grandma calls you by your childhood nickname.

“Are you sure of it?” She asks in your native language and you know exactly what she means.

Her eyes search yours in the dark, filled with concern. It doesn’t take much to read behind them.

“Yes. I am.” You start going up a few steps but stop at the top of the stairs.

“These violent delights have violent ends, and in their triumph die, like fire and powder, which as they kiss consume.” She murmurs in English to the empty room and you shiver from the instant recognition.

The quote stays with you in your lonely room. It is painfully obvious why you are lying about Javi, keeping him a secret.

Your bed is cold on the left side, even more in the morning. There is a man’s coat that is cheaper than everything you own inside your closet. You keep lavanda incenses inside your drawer to erase every trace of him, a floral scent to clean the cigarettes you hadn’t smoked.

Intimate details about him sound far from whatever you did inside these walls. You kissed all his freckles but don’t know his middle name or the city he grew up in. You know his drink of choice, but not his fears. Everything feels superficial, not enough to get you feeling what you are.

Laid on your bed, you turn your back to the left side and drift to sleep. In the end, you choose you.

now

You don’t tell what play you will be watching and don’t mention once who will take you. Javi doesn’t put pressure, no matter how much he wants to know.

Lunch is almost normal, you answer here and there a few of his questions, but don’t ask him anything. You used to be talkative, intrusive even, trying to learn everything about him, the curiosity is gone and boredness gave in.

He pays for it, but you don’t kiss his cheek with a thank you, instead, you say the words out loud before taking a deep breath.

Now you would head back in a taxi with your legs on his lap as you talk about whatever you wanted on the road to the diplomat’s house. He would hold your high heels in his hand and massage your shins, thinking about how intelligent you are and how much he wants to take your clothes off. You would tease him about being too quiet and he would answer, truthfully, that he likes the sound of your voice. You would smile big, with soft eyes that could see him as a whole.

Except this is Madrid, not Bogotá and you are close, but so far away. Your eyes are once more looking into the window, both hands on your lap tensed by his presence.

The folded paper in his wallet is the anchor that sinks his heart with its weight. He wants to touch your skin, kiss your face and ask you to say anything, but he is six years too late.

By the CNP door, you get out of the taxi before him. Unsure of what to do, you open and close your mouth.

“Thank you for the lunch. It was nice.” It is a lie, but he takes it. You don’t want to hurt him.

“Thank you for the company. I’m glad that you found a place where you belong.”

He is happy for you and sad for him. You always were better than he could be, good to see that you made life on your terms and don’t depend on anyone. Sadly, he doesn’t have a place in it.

Your eyes are big, round as you stare at him moments before you give his cheek a peck. A small smile adorns your face and he feels better for a second, watching you enter the building.

He sleeps well that night, wakes up like it's an ordinary day, tries to keep life going despite knowing there is a possibility to see you for the rest of his stay in Spain.

First, the idea of seeing you again is a threat, then is a wish. He wants to see you, he looks around the people coming and going through the corridors hoping that you will appear in the corner. Giving in to failure, he focuses once more on his work until the break when he listens to your name being spoken by one of the detectives with a mocking tone.

“El Conde ataca una vez más. Ayer la llevó al teatro, tanta cosa más interesante en esta ciudad y es esto lo que amanece en El País!” He laughs while pointing out a photograph in a newspaper.

("The Count attacks once more. Yesterday he took her to the theater, so many more interesting things in this city and this is what is being reported in El País!")

“No seas tonto, hombre! Está en la parte de society, qué esperabas? Geopolítica?” Another mocks back.

("Don't be stupid, man! You are in the society part, what did you expect? Geopolitic?")

From his position, Javi can see you in a cocktail dress next to a good looking man. You are smiling with your teeth as the man has his hand on your lower back. He looks polished, well raised, Javi can smell money on him.

The detectives leave, still in banter, but the newspaper stays. He reads the small note at the bottom of the picture “El Conde y su hermosa pareja, nuevamente en cita”. It must be a recurring thing, he wonders if the nickname is actually this man’s royal title.

("The Count and his beautiful partner, once more on a date".)

Money searches money. From party dresses, two pieces sets to tennis outfits and countryside all-white, you flaunted generational wealth. He invested a big slice of his payment in suits that looked more put together to appear like he belonged in your world. El Conde, from what Javi can see, never had to worry about such triviality.

Putting his work aside, Javi isn’t a name to remember. He doubts that growing up in Laredo, being a small-town man at his heart would be worth the news. Except to you, who treated him like the most interesting person you ever met, even if he tried to keep the personal information to himself.

Looking back, sounds off why he couldn’t give in to you. Rationally he can understand his actions, you were going to live abroad and it could set you back having someone waiting for you on the other side of the world. His life was too dangerous, with the risk of getting those close to him hurt rapidly growing and he wouldn’t be in peace if something happened to you. Despite all of it, you were worth the inevitable pain from day one.

So worth that seeing you in a dress, having fun with another man, made him think about the countless nights spent out in Bogotá. 

Your room was his favorite place in the city, he slept on the left side back on his apartment’s bed to imagine that you were there with him when the morning came. He never asked for the coat he forgot in your house, he liked to imagine you wearing it to have a little piece of him. Everything back then felt like home.

He closes the newspaper and goes out for a new cigarette, puffing a cloud of smoke with the smell you can’t stand. El Conde must smell like an expensive perfume.

then

You don’t take him to your bedroom anymore, not since that night. If he notices something about it, he keeps to himself. You are still his sweetheart in the backseat of his car, where his hands are all over you and the heavy air fogs up the windows.

The car is parked in a blind spot, where the light from the streetlamp doesn’t reach. It is dark, mostly shadows inside of it, everything is hidden by the tinted windows.

Words aren’t exchanged, the only sounds are the flesh against flesh and the uneven breath from your lips as you ride him hard. Big hands knead the tender skin of your hips, pushing you further to meet his thighs. He is deep inside you, making you clench with every move. His open eyes stare at you with the same devotion look you try to avoid by shutting yours and hiding your head in his neck.

“So good,” he whispers into your ears as his hips increase rhythm.

You cry out loud from overwhelm, the angle makes your clit rub his pubic hair more and more when he moves. He knows you are close, so he hugs you tighter, almost suffocating. You hate how much you are an open book to him.

“Let it go, baby,” he orders and you follow, giving in to ecstasy.

He is not far behind, as he uses your spent body to achieve his bliss. With legs shaking from oversensitivity, your mind is lost between heaven and earth as he pushes one final time inside of you.

 He kisses your face in needy little pecks, softly tracing your silhouette. Your eyes are still closed.

After a minute or two, you start to untangle yourself from his embrace and search for your outfit on the car floor. You still haven’t looked into his eyes and it clearly annoys him.

“I can take you home. Don’t take a taxi.” He offers and you want to accept it, but know better.

“You know I can’t, Javi.”

You haven’t spoken about why you decided to get cold at him, it has been weeks of slowly putting some distance between you two. For every push, he pulls you back in this tug of war.

He breaths harshly from his nose, but gives you a positive nod anyway. Getting out of the car, you start walking to the closest avenue, but he promptly pulls your arm and kisses you.

It makes your head spin, your bodies illuminated by the street lights where everyone can see it. For a second you want to ignore your guts and stay there, claim him as yours until daylight, but you don’t.

“Call me when you get home,” he asks with puppy eyes, already searching for a cigarette inside his pocket.

You don’t call.

The next days pass in a hurry, with your attention divided between doing your bags and ignoring the heartache that is creeping in. Javi asks you out and you find an excuse, if he doesn’t buy it, he doesn’t say it.

Your room constantly smells like lavanda. At night, you try to fill your head with anything that takes your attention from him until you can fall asleep from tiredness. The sheets don’t smell like him anymore, but you know it from memory and let fill your mind when you feel lonely.

You are strong in your decision, to choose you until the night before your flight. His coat is in your bed and you have been thinking about packing it or not. If you let it here, every summer break it will be waiting to shove in your face what you once had and it is still free in Bogotá. If you take it with you, will be a constant reminder of what you can’t have.

Before you reprimand yourself, you call for a taxi to the other side of town. It is after midnight on a weekday, he must be at home, preferably, by himself. You don’t know what to do if he has someone there.

Paying the driver fast, you sprint out of the taxi to look around trying to find the number in the paper. Javi wrote down his address once in case of emergency, you think that having him one last time is one. You locate the apartment and knock erratically on the door.

The moment your eyes see his, you throw yourself at him and leave all worries free when he kisses you back with hunger.

He tastes like cigarettes and you love it. His mustache tickles the hollow of your throat, as he fastly goes down on your neck. Goosebumps everywhere his hands touch while clumsy undressing you. When you are naked, he pushes you into the wall and you arch your back inviting him to where he belongs.

On his knees, he starts to eat you out letting out a heavy groan when you stretch your arm behind and tug on his hair. He alternates between sucking your clit and twisting his tongue inside you, making your body feels heavy with pleasure.

You try to look behind your shoulder, to find his eyes, missing the heat behind them. He happily obliges, gaining his height back just to hold your head in his hands and look deeply into your eyes before devouring your mouth. It tastes like you and him, like happiness.

“I missed you,” he whispers and you believe it because you missed him too.

The rational part of you is stronger, so you decide to show instead of putting out in words, taking off his clothes just like he did to you.

He fucks you against the wall, biting on your earlobe and breathing his airy moans directly into your ear. On his sofa, he looks into your eyes up close as his hips thrust so deep you let your mouth hang. With his hand squeezing harshly your jaw, he guides you to his bed until your head reaches the pillow.

It is a mix of wanting, needing, and despair as he opens your legs and positions himself back inside of you. The warm lights inside his room make his tan skin glow, you feel heated up by sunlight when he slides his nose on the side of your face, bracing himself as your hips find his.

There are no words, but this time silence is forced by the moment’s intensity. He gasps directly in your mouth, unable to keep his breath and kiss at the same time. His whole skin feels wet, from the thin layer of sweat in his collarbones to your sex soaking him up. 

You place one heel on his back, urging him to give it all to you. He responds by increasing his tempo, going harder until you lock your fingers with his and let pleasure overcome your conscience. 

He frantically searches for his own release, looking at you like you are his. You bring your interlocked hands to your lips and kiss his fingertips while staring back at him. When he spills inside you, is your turn to give his face little pecks in a silent devotion.

His body weight is on you, his face is tucked in your neck. You can feel his fast heartbeat, still high as his needy hand is caressing the side of your face. It feels different than everything you did. It feels like love.

But you have thought about it before and it was just drunk words. Yet, you let yourself feel whatever he wants to give you. He raises his head until you are eye to eye.

He keeps touching you delicately in silence for a while, his eyes never leaving yours. You can’t control the smile that beams from you to him.

The night gets darker by the hour, but you don’t care. His body is constantly touching yours, begging you to stay. It is his turn to say whatever he wants to, he tells you about his week, the mission and how time went by slowly without you. When exhaustion comes, you sleep on the right side of his bed, with his arm on your waist and his face in your hair.

With the first rays of the sun entering between the shutter gaps, you wake up and it takes all of your will to leave the bed without making him notice.

Your flight will be soon. It chokes you to see him so peaceful in his sleep, to know that he will be searching for your heat when the morning comes.

Having mercy, you get paper and a pen and write down a final message. With precision, you paint your lips red and kiss the paper corner before placing it on the pillow.

The way back to the diplomat’s house is sad and dark, even if the sky is slowly brightening with the sunrise. You cry until there are no tears left. Grandma is having coffee in the garden by the time you get there, she sees your puff face and gives you a sympathetic look.

The sun is high in the sky when your plane departs.

now

Javi stopped looking for you in corridors and the streets near his hotel. He is the one who wants closure, yours happened years ago and it is folded in his wallet. It feels bittersweet to find you and not have you, but he lived it before and didn’t kill him.

The years after your departure were busy. One can’t mourn a love that didn’t live to see the light of day when work is suffocating. He found joy in the small victories against the cartels, consoled with the bodies of the many women he slept with over time. The aftermath is what bites him back, the way your eyes avoid his with such precision.

Madrid is pretty in the summer. He likes to walk around until late at night having so much daylight still, calms his nerves and lets him rest once. The only thing left to do is to repack his luggage, but he doesn’t want to be alone in the hotel room on the final night of his stay.

He doesn’t notice how much time passed since he started to walk. It must be late, the sunset is starting. Shades of orange, lilac, and pink are coming together on the horizon, the warmness of the sky reminds him of the red of your lips back then.

Stopping by a bridge, he lights up a cigarette and stays on the sidewalk admiring the dusk. It is peaceful, a feeling he hasn’t felt in a long time.

There aren’t many people around, the street is almost empty, he looks around until his eyes lock with yours. It’s warm, but you are wearing his coat, both hands in the pockets.

He meets you in the middle of the bridge, following the pace of your timid footsteps.

“Hi,” you almost whisper still staring back at him, “I couldn’t stay alone in my apartment.”

“Why?” He stomps on the cigarette and takes a mental note of your traces in the warm colors of the sky, flashes of the bliss on your face back in his apartment appear in his mind.

“You know why.” 

He does. Too many memories flowing, a ghost from a past life that keeps haunting, but in the flesh and front of you. He is your ghost and you are his too.

“You kept the coat.” It is a simple statement, no more than an observation, but enough to make you embrace yourself around as if you were searching for comfort inside of it. “I kept something too.”

For the first time in many years, he opens his wallet and unfolds your note from the last night spent together. The corners have little dents from how much his fingers pressed on, reading it again and again. The color faded a little, just like the mark of your lipstick isn’t vibrant anymore.

He places the note between your bodies and you take it, fingers slightly scrapping his. You read it like it is a surprise as if you forgot whatever you poured your heart into that final time.

Your eyes are glossy, the waterline is full and about to overflow when you look back at him. The sun shines one last time into your skin before disappearing, allowing the night to come.

[absurdthirst]

Stripped Down Love {Javier Peña x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 17.8k

Warnings: Age gap (everyone's legal), strip clubs, mentions of knowing someone when they were underage, lap dances, sex work, mentions of prostitution, derogatory language towards strippers, vaginal sex, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, violence, accidental pregnancy

Comments: Javier comes back to Laredo and finds you, the adopted little sister of his ex-fiancée, working in the new strip club in town. Unable to stay away from you, Javi finds himself coming back to see you.

A/N: This story does contain mentions of age gaps and knowing Javier when you were a younger teenager. If this bothers you, please bypass.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Javier Peña MasterList ||

Javi rubs his cheek, tired of sitting in his pop’s house. Watching the old man snore as the news plays on the TV. Clinton gave some speech on the drug war and Javi wants to roll his eyes but he simply sighs and checks his watch. That’s it. He can’t sit here anymore. He has to go out. Laredo only has so many bars and Javi is well known in almost all of them. There’s one place he hasn’t ventured yet. It opened during the time he was in Colombia tracking down Cali and now, he’s intrigued. The flashing sign draws him in and after flashing his ID and paying the door fee, he walks inside and takes a seat. His dark eyes follow the girls who walk around in various stages of nudity. “Can I get you a drink, sugar?” One of them asks him and he nods, ordering a whiskey. 

“And now it’s time for our next dancer. Please welcome Margarita!” The announcement is loud and several men cheer, making Javi think this girl must be good if the regulars like her. He sips his whiskey as the music begins, eager to let loose and enjoy himself for a while.

The sudden flash of nerves that always attacks when you are announced floods your system but you smother them as the spotlight suddenly turns on, drawing the crowd's attention to where you are poised at the edge of the stage. The music you’ve picked out for this dance immediately starts blasting through the speakers and you focus on the beat as you rush towards the pole in the middle of the stage and jump on it, swinging around as you start your act. You try not to focus on the crowd, not even looking at them right now as you start to move to the beat and perform for them. 

Javi’s fingers twitch around the glass. Shit, the girl is gorgeous. No wonder everyone in here cheered. She’s swinging around the pole like it’s second nature and her body arches in a way that reminds him of when he makes a woman cum on his tongue. He licks his lips, imagining just that. 

She sways her hips and when she kneels on stage, that’s when Javi gets a good look at her. “Holy shit.” He whispers. He knows you. Lorraine’s kid sister. Well, adopted sister. Her parents kept trying for another kid but couldn’t, put their name on the adoption list and finally adopted you when Lorraine was in college, just before she met Javi. 

“Fuck.” He suddenly feels guilty, stomach churning as he continues to stare at you. You’re all grown up now. A fucking gorgeous woman. Men throw money on the stage when you finish your act but Javi continues to stare and that’s when you meet his gaze. 

Your eyes widen as you recognize the man you had a crush on when you were a teenager. Older, more rugged, and just as fucking sexy. You fumble to get the dollar bills, shoving them in your bra and you wink at Javi as you stand up and make your way backstage. “Holy shit.” You hiss to yourself, unable to believe he’s here. In the fucking strip club you work at. You have to talk to him. It’s been years and he might not even recognize you but you hope he still likes whiskey as you order one from the bar and carry it over to him. “Long time no see.” You say as you shift to stand in front of him, wearing lingerie that shows way too much skin.

Javi looks up into your eyes, trying to keep them focused on your face and not on the fantastic tits beneath your barely there scraps of lace. “It’s been, what? Twelve years?” He asks, finishing the rest of his whiskey and setting it down on the small table. “Looks like things have changed.” He doesn’t mean it in any negative way, everyone has to make a living and he won’t begrudge you that but he didn’t expect to see you here. He wonders what your sister and parents think of your profession, although he can’t expect it to be good. “How have you been?” 

You shrug, shifting to sit down beside him, “I’ve had better times. Worse times too.” You admit with a sigh. “This is for you.” You hand him the whiskey and his eyebrows raise. 

“Thanks.” He lifts the glass towards you, “can I get you one?” 

You shake your head, “I don’t drink during my shifts. Um, where to begin? I- I started working here to pay for my school. I'm trying to finish college.” 

Javier frowns, “didn’t you-?” 

You shake your head, “well, I was heading to college after high school but life went to shit. You went to Colombia and Lorraine lost her mind. Went into a spiral and our parents had to pay some big bucks to get her out of trouble and between that and the wedding that didn’t happen…I had to say bye bye to my college fund.” You wave at nothing, “and then I was mad because my future went down the drain because Lorraine pissed it away so I acted out. Got in with the wrong crowd, started treating Carol and George badly and George had enough. He threw me out. No money. Nada. I had to start from scratch at eighteen and so…I ended up here. Trying to get my life back on track after too many years of messing around.” You finish your story and look at Javier, “I heard you were back in town. Didn’t figure you’d end up here.”

“Shit.” Guilt settles in Javi’s gut and swirls around. If he hadn’t run away from the wedding, your life could have been far different. He doesn’t miss that you’ve called your adoptive parents by their names, assuming that you’ve not reconciled. “Yeah,” Javi takes a swallow of his fresh drink and looks back over at you. “Didn’t remember this being here the last time I was home.” He admits, looking around the club. 

“It opened about three years ago.” You tell him and Javi nods. They must have been building it when he was here for the week before he went to D.C. to be assigned to catching Cali. 

“Do you make good money here?” He asks, pulling out the stack of bills he had brought and peels a hundred dollar bill off to hand to you. It’s probably the least he could do, but it was a start.

You shake your head, pushing his money away. “I don’t want your money. I- I make good money here. Enough for a studio apartment and for me to pay for school. It’s not - George went mad when he found out I was here. Said I was ‘his adopted whore daughter’” You snort, “I always thought I was a good girl. Even now…I don’t - it’s just dancing and I-” 

You don’t get to finish your sentence when the club manager comes over. “Are you gonna sit there and chit chat all night, Margarita? Or are you actually gonna make me some money?” 

You want to roll your eyes at your boss, “sorry Javi. I gotta get back to work.” 

You stand up and your boss notices the way Javi’s eyes follow you, “unless you want a private dance with her?” Your boss suggests, raising his eyebrows at Javier.

Javi doesn’t like the way your boss talks to you, it’s not necessary and he’s had plenty of experience with women in the sex trade. “Yeah.” He nods, rocking his jaw slightly. “A private dance.” He agrees, knowing that it will shut your boss up and allow him to talk to you some more. “How do I get one of those?” He asks you, raising his brows questioningly.

You’re shocked he agrees to a private dance and your boss tells him how much it is, taking the money up front. You bite your lip as Javi peels off some bills from the roll and your boss jerks his chin at you, “go on then.” 

You take Javier’s hand, amazing at how big it is and how thick his fingers are. Entering a private room, you turn to the hifi. “You still like Led Zeppelin?” You ask, knowing Javier loved the 70s. Refused to get into hair spray rock during the 80s and said it was shit compared to the greats. “A Whole Lotta Love” starts to play and you walk over to Javier. 

“You don’t have to -” 

Javier holds his hands up and you shake your head, “they have cameras. If I don’t dance, I don’t get paid. I’ll go easy on you, Peña.” You promise, “tell me about Colombia. What have you been up to?” You ask, straddling his lap.

Javi exhales roughly as your thighs settle over his and it’s almost instinctive to grab them. This is you, the same fucking kid he had met when he was dating Lorraine. It’s wrong to think of you like a woman he wants to fuck. He had known you when you were sixteen and he was already a man. “It was ….rough.” He admits after a moment, swallowing slightly and trying not to fucking let his dick get hard. He loves beautiful women and you are fucking gorgeous all grown up. “Fucking politicians fucking everything up. Too many losses, too much fucking death.” He sighs and shakes his head. “You don’t want to hear about that shit.”

You want to make this worth the money. You want him to see you as a woman and not the mousy little teenager who had a massive crush on her sister’s boyfriend. It was wrong, so wrong, but you thought he was gorgeous and all man. When Lorraine faked the pregnancy and he ditched her at the altar, you hated that you were a little happy about it. You want him to see you as you are now so you grab his knees, arching your back to rock your hips to the music, grinding against him. “I do. Tell me. I know it was rough. I heard…rumors. I heard about you getting sent home before they caught Escobar.” You know it must’ve been a rough time for him, especially that moment. You grab onto his shoulders, shifting higher so your tits are in his face and you grab his hands, putting them on your hips. “It’s normal to touch.” You tell him, knowing your boss will be watching.

“Shit, they shouldn’t be touching you, sweetheart.” Javi hisses, shaking his head at the thought of every man out there putting his filthy hands on you. Not because you were some pure angel, but because you were getting paid to entertain them, not fuck them. They shouldn’t just get to touch your body unless you want them to.  He bites his lip, feeling himself start to harden and hating how disgusting that makes him. “Yeah.” He grunts out. “Fucked around with the wrong people, got burned.”

His fingers dig into your waist and your stomach twists. You decide to put your all into this, shifting off of his lap to spin around, bending over so he has an eyeful of your ass before you grab his knees and drop down between his legs, noticing the bulge in his tight jeans. You hate the thrill that runs through you, knowing it’s because you’re dancing and shaking your ass for him. You shift back onto his lap, back pressed against his chest and you grind back onto him. “Shit happens. It’s all par for the course. You did it though. You played your part, they got the bastard. And you got Cali from what I hear.”

“You kept up with my career?” Javi asks with a small smirk. You had probably learned it from the town gossip, Lorraine’s momma and daddy not able to completely smear his name through the mud despite their best efforts. Especially after he had become a ‘hero’, which he absolutely was not. “I got Cali, at the expense of my career. That’s why I’m here. Tired of the bullshit and just wanting a life where no one fucking shoots at me or I’m not chasing drug dealers across rooftops.”

You turn around, straddling him again and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, letting him smell your perfume. You always did that so the assholes would get caught out by their wives but you want Javi to remember how you smelt, how you felt on top of him. “So you came back to boring ol’ Laredo. Apart from your papa, what else is here?” You chuckle, rocking your hips to the beat of the song.

“Family.” Javi chokes slightly, digging his fingers into your hips harshly when you press your hot cunt against his cock. All you are wearing are those tiny fucking panties and he’s imagining you sitting on his dick right now while you moan his name. “Tías y tíos. My cousins.” He closes his eyes for a moment before he looks at you. “Why didn’t you leave? Start over somewhere else?”

You shake your head, biting your lip to smother your smirk that he’s affected by you. It’s clear in his dark gaze. “Couldn’t afford it. I have a piece of shit car and I think it would barely make it a hundred miles out of town. Was easier to stay.” You don’t mention that you always wondered if you’d reconcile with your adopted parents one day. That day hasn’t come yet, you doubt it ever will. “My ex…didn’t want to leave either until I started working here and he couldn’t handle it. Things didn’t end well so he, uh, he left.” You don’t mention the way he’d get jealous of you working at the club.

“Fucker.” Javi rolls his eyes and scoffs. “Let me guess, he got mad and accused you of fucking every guy who came in the place?” He’s seen a lot of men talk a big game and be unable to handle their woman using their body how they pleased. While Javi wouldn’t want his partner to sleep with anyone else, ironically enough, he had no problem with them dancing.

“Got it in one.” You chuckle softly, the song coming to an end. “The fact that his fist also used to get mad…well, I, uh, I learned real fast how to fight back and when I did, he decided to leave.” You admit, coming to a stop when the song ends, unable to meet his eyes. You know you sound like a lost cause, working in a strip club, an orphan who was beaten up by her ex and has no money. You’re like the poster child for a charity commercial.

“Pendejo.” Javi spits, hating the vulnerability on your face. He reaches into his pocket and hands you more money. “Doesn’t matter if you were fucking every guy here, you don’t deserve that.” He murmurs softly. “Some of the best women I knew in Colombia were hookers. Brave as shit, fierce. Nothing to be looked down on.”

You shift off of his lap, the money in hand. “This is too much.” You shake your head and Javi closes your hand around it. 

“Take it. Please.” He urges and you nod, unable to deny him. You heard the rumors of him sleeping around in Colombia too, the rumor mill still running during his absence, and you didn’t judge him, knowing it must’ve been lonely fighting a never ending war. 

“Thank you.” You lean in to kiss his cheek, shoving the money in your bra. “Do you want another drink?” You ask but he shakes his head.

“No, thank you. I have an early morning fixing the fence with my pa. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you around.” He stands up and tries to discreetly adjust himself but you see it. 

“Sure thing Peña. See you around.” You guide him back into the main dance area and feel your boss’s eyes on you. 

“Be good.” Javi urges and you wink at him, “always am.” He walks out, glancing back at you before he exits and you sigh, hoping he comes back or you see him around town.

****

The week passed with Javi constantly thinking about you. The few times he had gone into town, he had looked around for you, wanting to see you again. He wonders where you live, what your schedule is like outside of your working hours. Now that the weekend is here, he showers and changes into some clean clothes to head into town. “I’m gone, pop.” He sticks his head in the living room to find his dad kicked back in his old Lazy Boy with the soccer game turned on, the announcers yelling through the speakers. 

Chucho lifts up the Budweiser in his hands. “Have fun, mijo.” He grunts out. “If you can’t get out of jail, call me.” 

Javi rolls his eyes, snorting at the same speech his pop has given him since he started going out as a teenager. It was doubtful he would need to call his dad, professional courtesy and all between federal agencies and local law enforcement and the locals looked at Javi like he was untouchable despite handing in his badge. “Sure thing pop.” He knows his dad will be asleep in his chair until at least midnight before he finally goes back to his room.

The club is busy tonight, always is on the weekend, and you prepare for your next dance. You’ve been scanning the room for Javier ever since that night and it feels like he’s never going to come back. “Welcome to the stage, Margarita!” The crowd cheers and you adjust your bra before you make your way up on the stage, the song blaring as you shift to spin around the pole, starting your routine, and that’s when you see him. A couple of rows back, whiskey in hand, and his look electrifies you.

The entire week, Javi’s been talking to himself about how wrong his attraction is to you. But the second that he sees you, every point he had tried to bring up to himself dies away. You’re an adult, nearly thirty fuckin’ years old, and it wasn’t like he spent much time with you when he was dating Lorraine. He arches a brow at you and lifts his drink as you dance. He isn’t in the front row, throwing bills at the stage but he will pay you after you get done with your set. Groaning when he sees you turn around and bend over to give him a fantastic view of your ass.

You put more energy into this dance than anything else you’ve done all week. The feel of his eyes on you has you going all out and more money flies onto the stage and you finish with flair, going into the splits and you wink at Javi when he claps your performance. Standing up, you gather the money and make your way off stage and over to Javi. “Fancy seeing you here Peña.” You say as you set a whiskey down for him.

“Wanted a drink.” He jokes, like you aren’t aware that he has passed half a dozen bars to get to your club. “How’s your week been?” He asks, like he’s run into you in a grocery store and is asking about the weather. “Haven’t seen you around when I was in town.”

You shrug, “been busy with school. Nearly the end of the semester, so I’m trying to buckle down and get good grades. I’m nearly done with my degree.” You tell him, sitting down on the empty seat next to him. “I can’t be too long. Boss has been on my ass to get more money this weekend.”

Javi rolls his eyes and pats his lap. “Come here then.” He doesn’t want you to get in trouble and he’s talked about much more troubling things when a woman has been on his lap. “What are you going to school for?”

“Nursing. It’s good because I already have the outfit.” You joke, shifting to settle on his lap, and you lean back against him, enjoying the way he feels against you. “How was your week? You get that fence fixed on the ranch?” You ask, reaching up to push that piece of hair back, wanting to show your boss that you’re schmoozing a customer and not just chatting.

“That piece, yeah.” Javi instinctively leans in, brushing his nose along the length of your throat while you swivel your hips. “Then another section decided to fall on the northeast corner of the ranch.” He huffs, fully aware that they are fighting a never ending battle with nature. His hands settle on your hips again and he lets out a quiet groan. “You’re too good at this.” He huffs quietly. “Definitely didn’t learn it from your sister.”

You smirk, “no. She has always been a stick in the mud.” You snort, “heard from a few girls that her husband has been in here a few times.” You reach out to caress his chest, fingers dipping under the fabric of his shirt. “Do you want another dance? I- I’m not asking for the money. Just - it would be nice to be alone again.” You bite your lip, knowing you’re playing with fire but he’s too good to not want to get burned.

“If you want me to have a dance.” He knows he should decline, but staring into your eyes, he doesn’t want to. Yes, he knew you when you were a teenager, but you’re grown now. You’re calling the shots. “Do you want to give me a lap dance, conejita?” He has used that nickname when Lorraine complained about your unlimited energy. “Or should I just call you Rita?”

You chuckle, “you can call me whatever you want, baby.” You flirt playfully, shifting to stand up and you hold your hand out towards him. Guiding him to a private room, you turn to the stereo to put on some music and he sits down. You cup his cheeks, sliding your hands down his neck to his chest, loving the way his Adam’s apple bobs with the movement. “Lorraine was an idiot to try and trick you, to push you into marriage. She didn’t appreciate what she had.”

Javi grunts, remembering the absolute panic he had when she had told him that she was pregnant. Followed up by a stern lecture from his pop, Javi had done the right thing. He had proposed, swallowing down his suspicions that something wasn’t right. “She knew I wanted to leave.” Javi admits. “That I was planning on applying to the DEA.”

You sigh, shaking your head, “I knew something wasn’t right. I saw - she had a tampon and I didnt question it. It wasn’t my place.” You rock your hips on top of him, moving to the beat. “You deserved better. Lorraine has her rich husband and her 2.5 kids.” You roll your eyes, “she’s all set.”

Javi snorts, smirking at how put out you sound. “Careful, Rita.” He teases. “You sound jealous. You want the rich husband and 2.5 kids?” He asks, arching his brow at you playfully.

You shake your head, running your fingers through his hair as you continue to dance on him. “Hell no. Maybe the kids…one day. I- I want someone who loves me for me. Who makes me happy and supports me. Not monetarily but emotionally. Money can’t buy happiness. It can make life easier, but it can’t replace true emotion. You can’t buy love.” You realize how cliché you sound but it’s true. “What about you? Ready for a wife and kids?” You tease, grinding down onto his lap when you feel his cock hardening beneath you.

The truth is Javi has never been opposed to marriage, he just never found someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He gives a small shrug. “Never found someone willing to put up with my shit for too long.” He huffs. “Least not someone I wanted to deal with their shit.” He modifies, very aware that Lorraine had been desperate to lock him down at the time. “What you do shouldn’t matter. Just as long as he takes care of you, physically and emotionally. Work is fucking work. It should stay there.”

You nod, “exactly. You get it.” You know he would take care of you physically. He’s so handsome, fucking sexy as hell, and you are struggling to keep professional. You never sleep with customers but Javi has you wanting to bend the rules. “For now, we will both just have fun.” You wink at him, the song rolling into another but you don’t get off of his lap, content to stay here all night. “You want an actual dance?” You ask, biting your lip, knowing you’ve just been moving for the camera, not really moving for him.

“If you give me an actual dance, I’ll embarrass myself, hermosa.” Javi admits, harder than a rock and it’s been a long time since he’s fucked anyone other than himself. Jerking off in the shower every few days doesn’t count but it’s what he’s done since his first few weeks back in Colombia the last time. Not even the blonde at the airport had managed to convince him to sneak into the women’s bathroom for a quickie.

“That’s okay. I want - I want to make this good for you. You’re paying money to listen to me chit chat. Let me - I want to show you what I can do.” You murmur, eyes flicking down to his lips and he licks them, causing your eyes to meet his. He doesn’t say anything, just nods, and you shift off of his lap, playing a new song. You turn away from him, moving slowly to the intro, swaying your hips and you look over your shoulder at him as you smirk, wanting to affect him. When you turn around, you kneel down and run your hands from his ankles to his thighs, stopping just short of his pelvis, admiring the bulge there for a moment. You slowly straddle him again, grinding down onto his hard cock and you reach behind you to unclasp your bra.

“Shit.” Javi has tried to not stare at your tits but now you are practically shoving them in his face. Making him twitch against your grinding cunt and his fingers dig into your hips. Your arms wind around his neck and you press forward, making him groan when your tits press against his skin. All he has to do is open his mouth and he could lick you. Although the glittery body powder you’re wearing wouldn’t taste good. He wants to drag your mouth down to his and kiss you. Rip off the tiny bottom and pull his cock out so you can ride him. Instead, he slides a hand around you and squeezes your ass harshly.

You fucking love how it feels to have him touch you, his calloused hands squeezing your ass and you whimper when he drags you down onto his cock. The song continues to play and you try to keep the rhythm but Javi is too good, his hot breath on your skin has you tossing your head back, arching your back to thrust your chest into his face. “Fuck, Jav.” You pant, continuing to grind onto him.

His cock is throbbing and he knows that if you don’t quit grinding on him, he’s going to fucking blow a load in his jeans like a fucking teenager. “Jesus, you gotta stop.” He hisses, unable to resist leaning in and nipping the skin of your breast. He’s always been a biter and he wants so desperately to have you wearing the impression of his teeth. “You’re gonna make me fucking cum in my jeans.”

“Do it baby. It’s okay.” You promise breathlessly, wanting to moan at the feel of his teeth on your breast. “I want you to cum for me Javi.” You murmur, leaning in to kiss his neck, unable to resist him. You want to see and hear him cum, at least to give you something to dream about.

Javi groans, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer, making you grind down on him even more as he rocks his hips up. Filthy moans and a long growl pour into your ear as he closes his eyes, hot spurts of cum coating his cock as he cums in his pants with you grinding down on him.

You kiss his neck again, smiling against his skin at how gorgeous he sounded when he came. Your panties are soaking wet, imagining how he would’ve felt inside of you. “God, that was hot.” You confess, breathing him in, and you wish you could fuck him but he’s just here for a good time, not to take his ex’s sister home.

“Shit.” Javi pants, shaking his head. “I’ve not done that since I was in fucking college.” He admits, looking up at you when you pull back. “Now I gotta go shower again.” He’s not upset about it, doesn’t give a fuck, but he wishes he had been able to get you off. “You gonna think about that later tonight?”

“Absolutely I am.” You wink and you mean it. It was sexy as hell to be able to make him cum like that. You feel on top of the world, not dirty like other lap dances you’ve given where the guy does that. You sigh and lean in to kiss his chin, “you don’t have to pay. That was - I wanted to do that. It’s not - you aren’t paying for it.”

Javi frowns and shakes his head. “The fuck I’m not paying.” He insists. “You’re here to make money and I’m taking up your time.” He reaches up and grips your chin. “I am not getting freebies while I'm here, okay?” He knows that will get you in trouble and you have to support yourself and finish school. “Please?”

You stare at him, seeing the fierceness in his eyes. “How about a discount?” You tease and he offers you a warning look. “Fine. Full price if you insist, Peña.” You joke, slapping his chest and he grabs it, tangling your fingers together. You swallow harshly, looking into his eyes. It’s so tempting to kiss him but you won’t.

“You should take a break.” Javi murmurs softly. “Have something to drink.” He’s not thinking about liquor but he knows that you have to be thirsty after dancing. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out another stack of bills. “Here, hermosa.”

You nod, “I’ll go to the break room now and get a drink and a snack. Are you gonna go home?” You ask and he nods, “gotta clean up my mess.” 

You chuckle, “you mean the mess I created?” You joke and he snorts, “exactly.” You hold your hand out towards him, “thank you for coming to see me.” You bite your lip, admiring the sheen on his forehead from his orgasm.

Javi nods and takes your hand to stand up. “Be careful, hermosa.” He murmurs seriously. “If you get any of these drunk assholes bothering you, don’t walk out to your car by yourself.” He knows you are smarter than that and have taken care of yourself for a long time but he worries. “If no one will walk you out you call me. You have Pop's home number?”

You nod, knowing Chucho has had the same phone number since 1965. Your heart flutters at his protectiveness and you try not to read too much into it. He’s just looking out for you. “Thanks Jav.” You lean in to kiss his cheek, “be careful too.” You know that he attracts trouble and you want him to be safe.

Javi makes his way out of the club, grimacing as he climbs into his truck. The bad thing about it is that despite him cumming in his pants, he still wants to fuck you. Sighing as he turns over the engine, he contemplates coming back tomorrow or waiting until next weekend.

****

You’re making your rounds when Javi comes into the club a few days later, making you smile and wink at him when you see him nod at you. You are finishing up with a customer who asked you to sit and talk. An older man, regular, who likes to just talk to you because you remind him of his ex wife. He doesn’t ask for more but pays you well for your time. You’re quick to get Javi a whiskey from the bar, making your way over to him and settling in his lap after you set the drink down. “Hey stranger.” You coo, kissing his cheek, “what you been up to?”

“Hey, Rita.” Javi winks at you and takes a sip of the drink you brought him. “I’ve been hauling fence posts and shoveling horse shit and trying to break the fuck bastard of a horse Pop decided to buy.” He grunts, thinking about how the bastard had tried to bite him when he was feeding him before he showered and came here. “Took a lot to not just shoot the damn thing.”

You snort, shaking your head at him, "I would've paid money to watch you try and tame a wild one." You giggle at the mental image of him cursing the horse, and you know he would curse his dad for buying it. "So you're here to relax, have a drink..." You tilt your head, knowing you wouldn't mind taking him for another dance. The nights since he came in his pants have been occupied with your hand between your legs, remembering how he sounded.

“To see you.” Javi murmurs, cutting his eyes back to you. He’s already resigned himself to the fact that he’s fucked. “For some reason I can’t stay away from this woman I’ve known since she was a high schooler.” He grunts, taking a sip of his drink. “She’s driving me crazy.”

"Yeah? You know...she has been watching the door every night, waiting for you to come back." You confess softly, eyes flicking down to his lips and back to those dark eyes that look ravenous. "you're driving her crazy too."

“Surprised that she’s not barring me from the club since I came in my jeans.” Javi flushes slightly and his hand strokes your thigh lightly. “Especially when she is dressed like this, looking like a fucking sexy angel.”

"I took that as a compliment." You hum, reaching out to run your fingers through his hair, pushing it back. "You like the outfit? I just got it. Picked it while thinking of you, that way you look at me." You admit, looking down at the white silk and lace, "Javi...I don't - my shift ends in an hour. I want to take you back to my place." You confess, sick of beating around the bush. You've debated telling him how you feel, worried he will tell you this is confined to the club and not beyond that.

“Fuck.” Javi groans and his hand tightens on your thigh. “Yes- fuck, I want to go home with you.” He nearly growls it, leaning in and biting your chin slightly. “Can I keep you occupied for the next hour so I can have you to myself?”

You smirk, "you want a private dance? We can drag it out. I don't want your money for the dance but we can talk in private and waste the time." You suggest, "I promise I won't make you cum in your pants again." You lean back to offer him an innocent pout.

Javi snorts and sends you a small grin. “Gotta make sure that your boss doesn’t get suspicious.” He murmurs, nodding and squeezing your thigh again. “Good thing there are cameras, or I’d just fuck you right there.” He finally acknowledges that he has every intention of sleeping with you and he doesn’t feel guilty about it. You obviously want him.

You whimper, unable to stop the noise making its way up your throat. “I wouldn’t argue with that. But I don’t want to rush. I’ve wanted you since you walked in here.” You admit, “you wanna come back to the room?” You ask, leaning in to run your nose along your jaw.

“Yeah.” Javi groans, knowing he’s going to have a hard time keeping his hands off of you now that you both know where you stand. “Believe me, I’m not going to cum in thirty seconds when I slide inside you.” He promises.

You shift off of his lap, “I hope not, Peña.” You tease, holding your hand out and he takes it. You guide him back to the private room, letting him sit down and you turn to the stereo. “What music do you want?” You ask and he smirks, “whatever you want hermosa.” His words make you smile and you lean down to pick something sensual. Not wanting to rush this. The music starts and you straddle his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Fuck.” Javi groans, leaning in and dragging his nose along your throat, placing a tiny kiss against your pulse. It’s been a long time since he’s allowed himself this type of intimacy but it’s surprisingly easy with you. “I want to kiss you, but I’ll wait until no one is watching.” He murmurs quietly, not wanting to cause problems with your boss. “What do you want me to do, hermosa?”

You press your chest to his, getting even closer to him. “I want you to wreck me. I want you to fuck me so hard I have to take tomorrow off.” You tell him, nipping his jaw as the music plays and you wish you could just leave but your boss would kill you. “I want you.” You kiss his neck, “in my bed.”

Javi hisses and his hard cock twitches underneath you. “You want me to make to fuck you until you scream my name?” Javi rasps out, digging his hands into your hips. “Fuck you until we are both breathless and needing a cigarette?”

“God yes. Imagined it so many times. At night, with my hand between my thighs. Haven’t stopped thinking of you since the first night you came here.” You admit, grinding down on his hard bulge. Fuck, this hour is going to be a lifetime.

He chuckles quietly, fingers sliding under the edge of your skimpy bottoms. “Just like you used to when you were a teenager, huh?” He teases. “Lorraine used to say you had a thing for me, but I didn’t believe her.”

You bite your lip, “maybe I did. I, uh, I did have a thing for you. A big thing.” You admit and he smirks, “shut up.” You hit his chest and remember you’re supposed to be dancing on him. “I used to think you were the sexiest man in Laredo, hell, in Texas. Nothing like those boys in school.”

“That’s because I wasn’t a boy.” Javi grunts at you playfully. His hand covers your and he lifts a brow as he drags both of your hands down over his stomach and towards his belt buckle. “All man, hermosa.”

“Fuck.” You pant, unable to resist squeezing him through his jeans. “I can’t wait, Javi. I need you. I- I’m gonna tell my boss I feel sick. I need - I’ll meet you outside, okay? I can’t wait any longer.” You tell him, shuffling off of his lap now that the song has ended. It’s barely been five minutes but you need him after dreaming after him for so long. “Come on baby.” You take his hand to drag him up.

There’s a small laugh that follows as he lets you pull him to his feet. He won’t pay you now because you are rushing towards the door, eager to go home. “Tell them that you feel like you are going to throw up. That you nearly threw up on me.” He suggests, knowing that the man wouldn’t want you throwing up on clients.

You snicker, “good idea, baby.” You guide him out of the room and you playfully pat his ass before you rush to find your manager. 

“What is it, Rita? You got the money from that dance?” He asks and you shake your head, covering your mouth. 

“No. I’m gonna - I feel like I’m gonna throw up. Nearly did on him.” You admit, gagging and covering your mouth again.

“Jesus Christ. I don’t want you puking on anyone. Don’t be fucking pregnant. Get your shit and go.” He orders and you nod, rushing to the locker room to change into your sweats and grab your purse, making your way out to the parking lot.

Javi takes one last drag off his cigarette and tosses it down to grind it under his boot. Grinning when he sees you rushing out the back door and he pushes off the side of his truck. “Rita.” He calls out, aware that the two of you are in public and he wouldn’t want anyone who doesn’t know you to find out your real name. He motions you over and looks around. “Where is your car?”

You point to the heap of shit that barely runs even after you’ve prayed for it to start. “You can follow me.” You tell him, knowing he will want to drive home directly from your place. “Come on baby, let’s go.” You urge and he smirks, winking as he opens his truck door. “See you there.” You promise and get into your car, sighing in relief when it starts. You pull out of the parking lot, keeping your eyes on the rear view mirror to watch Javi follow you to your apartment.

He’s fucking appalled that you drive this piece of shit. The damn thing looks like it’s barely clinging to life and one day it’s going to leave you on the side of the road in the middle of the night. Javi grunts to himself as he follows you, reminding himself to say something to you about it. It’s not safe. Your apartment is only ten minutes away from the club and he pulls in beside you, hopping out and walking up to the curb to wait for you.

You grab your purse and keys, making your way to his truck. You take his hand to guide him into your place. Taking your key, you guide him to your front door and he’s pressing against you. You fumble with the key to open the door and once it’s open, you spin around to press yourself against him. “Fuck me Javi.” You demand, cupping his cheeks.

Javi pushes you back through your door, both of you stumbling across the threshold and he slams the door behind him so he can gather you closer to him. “Fuck.” He grunts into your mouth, his hands grabbing your ass and pulling you against his cock.

You surge forward to press lips to his, desperate to kiss him. “I need you, baby.” You murmur, pecking his lips, before you deepen the kiss, sliding your tongue into his mouth.

Javi grunts, rocking his hips forward and tangling his tongue with yours. He knows the basic layout of most apartments and he starts to walk you back towards the hallways. Wanting to get you into your bedroom and on your bed.

You let him guide you backwards towards your bed, pushing you down onto it, and you drag him down with you. “God, you have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this.” You confess and kiss him, reaching for the buttons of his shirt.

He chuckles, dipping his head and nipping along your jaw and down your through. He loves kissing you, but he wants to do everything he imagined while you’ve been grinding on him. “Been thinking about this a lot, huh?” He teases, one hand sliding up and under your t-shirt to squeeze your tit over your bra before he dives under it too. “Fuck you’re so sexy.”

You whimper when he squeezes your breast, reaching down between you to pull your shirt over your head. “Fuck Javi.” You gasp when he surges down to wrap his lips around your nipple, biting down on it. “So fucking sexy.” He murmurs and you push his shirt off his shoulders, wanting to feel his skin.

It’s a race to get undressed, both of you pulling and tugging on the other’s clothes. Desperate to get naked and touch each other. Javi groans when you shove your hand into his jeans and gasps when you discover he’s not wearing any underwear. “Fuck.”

“Holy shit you’re thick.” You pant when his hands find their way into your sweatpants and he instantly rubs your clit. You squeeze him, “gotta - gotta finish getting undressed.” You tell him and he nods, shifting off of the bed, grabbing onto your sweats so he can pull them down your legs and off of you.

He peels the material down your legs and tosses it onto the floor, kicking off his boots so he can push his own jeans down. His cock bobs and dances as he kicks them off and he groans as he wraps his hand around himself. “Fuck baby, spread your legs. And you need to tell me now if you need me to wear a condom.”

You follow his order, spreading your legs for him, and you point to your side table. “I’m on birth control. I’m clean. Haven’t been with anyone since my ex and that was a while ago. I got tested and I- I understand if you’re more comfortable wearing a condom because of my profession. They are in my nightstand.” You tell him, eyes focused on his hard cock, unable to believe how gorgeous he is.

Javi snorts and shakes his head. “I’m clean too and your profession doesn’t bother me, hermosa.” He murmurs, kneeling on the bed and caressing your ankle as he shuffles between your spread legs. “I’ve slept with prostitutes in Colombia, a lot of them. Respected every one of them.”  He leans down and drops a kiss on your knee before his hands slide up your thigh and between your legs.

His words make your heart swell and you admire his honesty. “I- I haven’t done this before. Slept with a customer. Believe it or not. I didn’t want the extra money like that. I’ve heard too many horror stories of girls that go home with customers.” You admit, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his hard cock. “Fuck baby. You’re so thick, I need you inside of me now.”

He doesn’t care if you had done this with every customer you have, as long as you were careful of your safety. He shuffles closer and lets you drag his cock through your folds as he reaches up and pinches a nipple to make you gasp. Leaning down to kiss your lips as you line him up. “Fuck, hermosa.” He groans, pushing his hips forward when you let go of him in his eagerness to slide inside you.

You whimper when he starts to push inside of you, feeling the stretch already, and you close your eyes, tilting your head back into the pillow. “Fuck Javi. That feels- you feel so good.” You pant and he leans forward to kiss your chin. Your hands slide along his back, loving how muscular and strong he feels under your touch as he pushes deeper until he’s fully inside of you.

“Shit.” He hisses, closing his eyes as he rocks slowly, letting you feel without moving too much. Enjoying the way your walls flutter around him. “You feel so good, hermosa.” He groans, looking down at you and pulling you close as he spreads his knees apart to start thrusting. “So fucking good.”

It’s been such a build up to this moment, you are immediately on fire, but you savor how he feels inside of you. “Baby. Oh baby.” You murmur, knowing you’ve wanted this for so fucking long and he feels so good inside of you. You wrap your legs around him, pushing him deeper with your heels in his ass, loving how slow he’s going. “Wanted this since I saw you in the club.”

His elbow dips into the mattress near your shoulder and he grunts as he rolls his hips forward. “Fuck, me too.” He confesses, knowing that he shouldn’t but he doesn’t give a shit anymore. “So fucking hot shaking your ass up there.” He huffs, kissing down your jaw and biting on your chin.

You are surprised he wants to fuck you like this but you won’t complain. You whimper and let me push deep inside of you, crossing your ankles behind him back to push him deeper inside of you. “Fuck baby. You’re so - so thick.” You pant, knowing you’re going to feel him tomorrow. He grunts and you grip his neck, gasping when he tries to suck on your neck. “No marks.”

Javi huffs against your skin but he stops sucking. If you have bite marks or anything on your skin, you’ll get shit from your boss. He doesn’t want you to get in trouble or make less money because of him. He shifts to his knees and drags you upright. “Hold on to the bed.” He orders, keeping your upper body in his hold and he thrusts up into you. “Jesus.”

You follow his order, hands flying out to grab the headboard as his hands squeeze your tits, making you moan as he hits something spectacular inside of you in this position. “Oh fuck baby. I- shit. You’re - shit. You’re so fucking deep inside of me.” You pant, turning your head to press your lips to his.

Groaning, he kisses you back, instantly sliding his tongue into your mouth to tangle with yours. His fingers are digging into the muscles of your back as he keeps steadily filling you. Loving how your walls open for him to fit him like a glove. “Jesus, hermosa.” He hisses into your mouth, closing his eyes and sliding a hand down your back and around your body to cup your breast and squeeze.

You pant, loving how he feels inside of you. Pushing deep and you reach up to tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging on his locks. “Holy shit.” You moan, loving the way he twitches inside of you. “Shit baby.” You try to rock your hips to meet his, grinding down onto him while he squeezes your tit.

He huffs, letting go of your tit so he can rub your clit, lowering his head so he can draw your nipple into his mouth. Biting down on it before bathing it with his tongue, he suckles harshly. He loves the way you cry out and your fingers tangle into his hair to pull on it.

You shift to brace your feet on the bed, rocking against him to grind onto his cock. “Oh my God, baby. You’re gonna - I’m gonna -” You’re lost in how he feels, so deep inside of you and his fingers on your clit combined with his mouth around your nipple sends you over the edge, clamping down on his cock, you cry out and collapse forward against his chest.

Javi groans against your skin, loving how you clamp down around him and soak him with your juices. “Fuck.” He pants, rolling his hips up faster and holding onto you tighter as he chases his own high.

His arms slide under your thighs, lifting you up higher so he can thrust harder inside of you. You wrap your arms around his neck, crying out his name as he pushes you through your orgasm. “Fuck. Oh - oh - I need you to cum for me Javi. Please. Cum for me baby.” You beg, trying to grind against him but he has you in a tight grip.

Now is the time where Javi’s thrusts get more desperate. Moaning and grunting as he clenches his jaw and stares into your eyes. He feels himself getting closer. Every time you clench around him, you push him closer. “Fuck, fuck.” He grunts, leaning in and biting your bottom lip as he drives deep into your tight cunt and moans as he fills you up with hot ropes of cum.

You can’t take your eyes off of him, watching as he cums. His face twisted as he orgasm and you fucking love it. Eyes open as you watch him fill you with hot seed. “Javi. Oh baby. That’s it. Fill me up.” You murmur against his chin.

“Shiiiiiiiit.” Javi moans, angling his head and pressing his lips to yours for one last kiss. Breaking it off and leaning his head against your clavicle as he tries to catch his breath. “So good.” He huffs quietly.

You hum in agreement, running your fingers through his damp hair, and you love how his breath hits your chest. “Worth the wait.” You joke softly, caressing his neck while he calms down, his cock still inside of you. 

“Definitely worth the wait.” He hums in agreement and you sigh when he lays you down on the bed and pulls out of you, his cum dripping out of you and you spread your legs so he can see. Smirking slightly, he swipes his fingers through your folds and rubs your clit as he lays down beside you. “Fuck, now I need another cigarette.” He hums, knowing he won’t get up to get one right now. He’s relaxed and wants to stay right here. 

“I have some in my drawer.” You offer, making him raise a brow. He knows you don’t smoke so he wonders who the cigarettes are for. You shrug, “old habit. My ex used to like to smoke after sex.” You confess and you shift over him to grab the pack and lighter, placing the ashtray on the nightstand. “There you go.” You kiss his peck and he works on lighting a cigarette. “I like you Javi, always have. I, uh, I don’t just want to see you when you come to the club.” You admit, stroking his chest and down to his stomach.

Javi sucks on the cigarette and leans back, his hand dropping the lighter on your nightstand before it curls around your shoulder. Exhaling up towards the ceiling so he doesn’t blow it on you, he hums. “We can go to dinner tomorrow.” He offers, raising his brow as he looks down at you. “Sound good? Anywhere you want to go.”

“You want to be seen in public with me?” You joke, chuckling as you snuggle into his side. You know your ex had an issue with your job and you hope Javier, despite his assurances otherwise, that he doesn’t care about your job.

Javi snorts and shakes his head, taking another drag off the cigarette. "It should be that you don't want to be seen with me, hermosa." He teases, his fingers stroking up and down your back gently. "We could always go down to the steakhouse?" He asks. The steakhouse is pretty much the fanciest place in Laredo to have dinner and it was 'the' date spot for anyone who wanted people to know they were seeing one another.

You raise your eyebrows, surprised that he wants to take you there but you won’t deny that you want to be there with Javi. “I like the sound of that. Let’s do it baby. Steakhouse tomorrow night? I have the night off.” You admit, watching him blow out another cloud of smoke.

Javi nods. “I’ve got to work with pop in the morning, so I’ll pick you up later on?” He asks, knowing he doesn’t want you to drive that shit box car more than you have to. “Seven sound good or do you want to do it later?” He doesn’t know what you do on your days off and he doesn’t want to intrude if you have important things to take care of.

“Seven is good.” You hum, “gotta run errands tomorrow and hopefully get some sleep. I have a class too but I’ll be ready by seven.” You promise, “I, uh, I know it’s been a long time since you were with Lorraine but people will gossip and I- I don’t care. She doesn’t like me but I don’t want to cause issues for you.”

“You aren’t going to cause issues for me.” Javi flicks the ash in a tray on the opposite side of the bed and takes one last drag before he stubs it out. “Do you want me to leave?” He asks, unsure if you like men to sleep over. He wouldn’t mind staying, but it’s up to you.

You nod, “if you want. I’m way too comfortable right now to let you go.” You tease, swinging your leg over his hips to snuggle into his side before you pull your covers over you both. “Stay.” You order softly and he agrees, kissing your hair. It’s too easy with Javier. Far too easy.

****

The doorbell rings and you smooth down your dress, eager and hoping Javier likes you in the dress you’re wearing. It’s more coverage than anything he’s seen you in thus far and you hope he likes it. “Hey handsome.” You smirk when you open the door to him.

Javi hasn’t worn a suit since he quit the DEA but he’s glad he pulled one out of the closet. Even ironing the shirt. “Shit.” He huffs, leaning against the door and returning your smirk with one of his own. “I didn’t know I was having you for dinner.” You are fully covered and still his cock twitches in his pants and he thinks you’re gorgeous.

If you thought Javi in jeans was hot, Javi in a suit has you dripping already. “Dessert.” You correct him, “we are having steak for dinner and you can have me for dessert.” He chuckles and you step closer to cup his cheeks, kissing him. He woke you up with his tongue this morning and you have been thinking about him all day. His hands grip your waist and he slides his tongue into your mouth, tasting your lipgloss. “Let’s go baby before we forget about dinner and go straight to dessert.” You slap his chest and reach into your apartment for your purse, making quick work of locking the door.

Javi chuckles and guides you out into the parking lot and over to his truck. Trying to be a bit of a gentleman and opening the door for you. He can tell you’re surprised but he just smirks and watches you climb into the cab before he shuts the door and skirts around the hood to get behind the wheel. “Hope you’re hungry.” He teases as he starts the engine. “I’m giving up dessert to eat steak first.”

You giggle, feeling like a teenager all over again except now you’re a woman and Javier is a man and you’re going on a date. You drive through Laredo, watching him and admiring his profile while he concentrates on navigating to the restaurant. “Has anyone ever told you you have a fucking perfect nose?” You ask and he snorts. 

“Absolutely not. Never. Not. One. Not even my mother.” He reveals with amusement. 

“Well I think it’s perfect.” You hum, reaching out to trace your finger along the bridge.

He’s been hit on plenty of times, enough to know that he’s not ugly but he knows that his features aren’t perfect. Still, it makes him open his mouth and then close it, unsure of what to say to that. He finally looks over at you with a slightly disbelieving expression. “I think you need to have your eyes checked.” He jokes. “You’re the perfection in this truck.” That, he means, finding you stunningly beautiful and not in the way he finds you stunning when you’re at work. You would fit in at any swanky embassy party if he was still in Colombia - or ever attended them.

You fluster, biting your lip at the way he calls you perfection. You know your job has men looking at you like a piece of meat but right now, Javi is looking at you like you’ve hung the moon. He pulls into the restaurant and you take his hand when he helps you out of his truck. You walk into the restaurant hand in hand and your heart is thumping with nerves and happiness.

The hostess smiles brightly, although he doesn’t miss the way her eyes slide up and down his body and the smile takes on a slightly warmer tone. “May I help you?” She asks him and Javi nods. “Reservations for Peña.” He looks over at you with a small smirk, having called earlier just to make sure that there was no way you weren’t going to eat here tonight. After confirming the reservation, the hostess asks the two of you to follow her and for once, Javi doesn’t watch a woman’s ass as her hips sway in front of him.

You love how Javier’s hand hovers against your lower back as he guides you to the table and you smile when he pulls your chair out for you. “What a gentleman.” You compliment him with a wink and he chuckles while he takes his seat. “You didn’t check out her ass?” You frown, reaching for his hand to check his pulse, “you feeling okay?” You tease, knowing he’s an infamous playboy in Laredo.

Javi snorts and pulls his hand away from you. “Behave.” He huffs at you even though he’s grinning. “I don’t have to imagine what your ass looks like, and I guarantee it’s better.” He doesn’t want you to think that he just wants sex with you. Of course he wants sex, but he doesn’t want to limit it to just sex. He’s tired of that and he likes you. You’re funny and smart.

Seated, you bite your lip as you look over the menu. The prices are set in small print and nothing is exactly cheap. Unsure of what to order considering that your ex had always complained when you wanted an actual meal. The waiter comes over and he orders a bottle of wine that sounds appealing.

“Don’t order a damn salad.” Javi huffs, watching you scour the menu for the cheapest options. He doesn’t want you to do that, he’s paying the tab so he wants you to enjoy yourself and order what you want to eat. “You work out all fucking night at your job, you need the calories.”

You stare at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. Most men would be happy for you to order a salad. Say you even have to lose weight or keep your figure, but Javi wants you to eat what you want. You bite your lip, “the steak sounds good. With French fries.” You confess, looking up at him over your menu. “Then order that.” Javi insists and you nod, setting the menu down. “Thank you.” You reach out to squeeze his hand, not sure if he knows how much he just comforted you.

Javi nods and looks over at the waiter when he brings the wine over again. After pouring, he looks back at you, wanting you to order for yourself. He hates when pompous asses speak over their dates and order for them to seem like they are in charge. When you order your steak and fries, Javi orders a steak with a baked potato and seasonal vegetables. Once the waiter rushes off to put the order in with the kitchen, he picks up his wine glass. “To setting tongues on fire in this town.” He offers with a grin.

You giggle, clinking your glass against his, and you discreetly look around to see several sets of eyes on you. You take a sip, humming softly at the wine choice, and you set your glass down to look at your date. “You know that a lot of the men in here on dates with their wives have been in the club multiple times?” You snort, knowing that their wives are gossiping about you but have no clue their husbands tossed their money on stage to pay you.

“I don’t doubt it.” Javi huffs. “I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with enjoying a beautiful woman, when you're single. Yes, you’re gonna look when a woman walks down the street. Women do it too, but you don’t go seeking it out.” He gives a small shrug. “But I’m glad that are helping you get through school too, so fuck ‘em. Take their money.”

You smirk, loving his mentality and you nod in agreement, “exactly. Fuck ‘em.” You giggle and reach for his hand, squeezing it. “I would rather fuck you again though.” You tell him honestly, biting your lip, “I want you to come back to mine after this…if you want.”

“Up to you, hermosa.” Javi had hoped you would want to fuck again, but he’s not going to assume that you would invite him into your bed. He’s exchanged sex for money plenty of times, but the score was upfront and everyone knew what was going on. “If you want me in your bed, you just tell me the word and I’ll be there.”

You grin, “I want you in my bed tonight.” You say it clearly so there’s no confusion and Javi nods. The dinner is soon served and you dig in, groaning at how good the steak is. It’s been too long since you had a meal like this. “God that was good.” You sigh after the waiter takes your empty plate. “Dessert?” You ask Javi and his eyes dip down to your chest, “if you’re offering, hermosa.” 

You smirk, “oh I’m offering baby. You want actual dessert or you want me?”

His own smirk matches yours. “I doubt they would like it if I licked whipped cream off your cunt on the table.” He jokes huskily, eyes darkening as he leans in. “The question is if you want to eat something decadent here while you think about my tongue buried in your pretty pussy or if you want it first and then eating the dessert you got to go.”

You know you won’t be patient enough to wait through dessert. “Dessert to go. I don’t want to wait.” You confess, staring at him as the waiter comes over and Javier tells him to pack up one of each dessert to go and bring the check. “You ordered every dessert?” You ask breathlessly and he nods, “you’ll need your energy for tonight.” His words make your cunt clench and after he pays the check, you grab the bags of desserts and rush out from the restaurant. Once you’re in his truck, desserts secured, you reach for Javi to press your lips to his.

He chuckles against your lips, happy when you open up immediately for him. He curls his arm around your back and drags you across the bench seat to press up against him. Sliding his tongue into your mouth to groan when your own flutters eagerly against his. His other hand slides up your thigh but not dipping under your dress. After a long, steamy make out session, he pulls away panting. “We need to get back to your apartment.” He grunts, cock hard and already aching for you.

You huff, disappointed but you know you can’t fuck in a parking lot. He pulls out of the restaurant parking spot and makes his way along the road to your apartment. The radio is playing and you are feeling cheeky, deciding to reach out and squeeze him through his jeans. “Hermosa.” He warns with a low groan. “Javi.” You giggle, flicking the button on his pants, slowly pulling the zipper down.

Because he is in a suit, Javi actually wore boxers. You huff at the obstacle between you and his cock. Javi adjust his hands on the wheel, allowing you more room, sure that you are going to blow him in the fucking cab of his truck as he drives towards your house. “Fuck hermosa, you don’t have to-“ he groans when you reach into his boxers and wrap your fingers around him to pull his cock free. 

“I want to.” You whisper before you duck your head down to take him into your mouth and Javi hisses, his other hand slapping the back of the bench seat before he cups your head. “Oh fuck.”

You take him deeper, loving how he twitches inside of your mouth. You whimper around him, cunt dripping with anticipation of him inside of you and you wrap your fingers around the base of his cock, working him deeper while you kneel on the bench in the cab of his truck.

“Fuck.” Javi moans, continuously taking his eyes off the road so he can watch you take his cock down your throat. “So fucking good.” He praises quietly. “So fucking good. Imagined you like this, so much while you were on my lap.”

You hum around him, widening your jaw to take him deeper down your throat until the hairs at the base of his cock are tickling your nose. He chokes, the truck swerving a little and you almost giggle around his length at his reaction. You want him to feel good, to want more of you. You want to please him.

“You’re gonna fuckin make me crash.” He groans, sliding his hand down your back to squeeze your ass. He doesn’t mind, just making sure that he keeps his eyes on the road and doesn’t close them. “So Fucking eager you have to suck my cock on the drive home. Can’t wait.” He teases, smacking your ass.

You moan when he smacks your ass, pulling off of his cock so you can look up at him, continuing to pump him with your hand. “Couldn’t resist you. Been thinking about you since you left my place. Wanting your cock again.” You admit before you take him back into your mouth, wanting him to cum before he arrives back at your place.

“Good.” Javi groans. “You’ll have me again now. Anytime you want me.” He promises quietly. He turns into your parking lot and rushes to find a parking spot closest to your building.

You want him to cum down your throat so you take him deep again, moaning around him. Your hand slides down to fondle his balls and you hollow your cheeks, closing your eyes as he kills the engine to his truck.

“Shit, shit.” Javi hisses, feeling his end coming and his entire body tenses. He taps your cheek just in case. “Gonna cum!” He gasps out, closing his eyes and letting out a low growl.

You don’t pull back, feeling his balls pull up in your hand and you moan when his cum hits the back of your throat. You love how he groans your name as he cums, making you whimper around him while you try to swallow every drop he gives you.

It takes almost a minute for him to stop cumming. Moaning your name again as he digs his fingers into your ass as he spurts the last drops into your mouth and gasps for air.

You swallow all of it, waiting until his cock stops twitching and you pull back, kissing the tip of his cock. You lick your lips and sit up to look at him, pleased with yourself for swallowing every drop and the wrecked look on his face.

“Jesus Christ,” Javi pants. “You need to get in the fucking apartment.” He orders, grabbing your chin and pulling you towards him for a kiss.

You smile against his lips, fumbling for your purse and you reach for the door handle. “Come on then, Peña.” You order, getting out of the truck before he can open your door and you rush to your front door, struggling to find your keys and you eventually find them, opening your apartment just as Javi grabs your hips to guide you inside.

“I hope you’re ready to be in bed all night.” He hums, kicking the door behind him and barely taking his hands off of you so he can lock the door behind the two of you. “Because I’m not letting you leave it.”

****

Javi walks into the club, excited to see you and to watch you dance for him. Knowing that the other men are watching you but only he gets to take you home is thrilling. He finds a seat just as you’re about to start your set and he orders a whiskey. When you come on stage as Margarita, he smirks when you wink at him, shaking your ass in his direction, and he knows he will be biting it later, not enough to leave a mark but enough to make you squeal his name. 

When you get off of stage, you gather the money and quickly make your way to the floor, eager to see Javi. “Hey sweetheart. Come ‘ere.” You turn to see a man - not a local - reach for you and you barely have a second to react before he’s pulling you into his lap. “Wanna see those tits.” He grabs your top, pulling it down to display your tits to his hungry gaze before you can push him away.

Before he can slam his drink down, Javi is shooting up out of his chair. “Hey!” He growls, charging over to the asshole who has decided to drag you down into his lap without your permission. “What the fuck are you doing, pendejo? You ask before you fucking touch.” He slaps his hand off your top and twists the man’s wrist away from your body.

"She's a whore. It's all for sale. I just took it without paying first." The man snorts at Javi, "you wanna have her? Wait your turn, buddy. She has enough to go around for the right price." 

You hiss at the asshole, shifting off of his lap and you can't help it, you slap him. "I'm not a fucking whore." You growl, knowing you've never slept with any customer other than Javi. 

"Fuck you sweetheart, you are probably sucking the cock of everyone in here. This one just got jealous. Wants you to himself, huh?"

“Shut the fuck up!” Javi hisses, unable to control himself and pulls back to punch the asshole square on the jaw. The shock of the punch allows you to scramble off his lap and duck behind him. “She’s not a fucking whore, you puta.” He squares up to hit the man again but security rushes over to grab hold of Javi.

"Stop. Stop." You beg Jason, the security guy who is grabbing Javi. "He was defending me against this asshole. You should be kicking him out." You demand and your boss comes over. 

"What the fuck is going on?" He growls, "you just hit a fucking customer." He hisses at Javi, "and you slapped him." You try to explain what happened but your boss isn't having it. "You're fired." He growls at you and you clench your jaw. 

“Fine. I'm fucking over this shit hole place." You hiss, turning to Javi who is struggling still. "I'll meet you outside." You tell him, "he will leave." You tell Jason who nods and escorts Javi out of the club. You grab your things and change before you head out of the club, sick of the bullshit you have to endure. You see Javi pacing by his truck and you drop your things, wrapping your arms around his neck to drag him towards you for a kiss.

Javi pulls away from you after a quick and sloppily executed kiss. “I’m sorry, hermosa, I- he was grabbing you without your permission.” He growls, angry that you had been fired for being assaulted. “You got fired but I can’t say that I’m upset about it.” He tells you. “Not because you’re losing money, but that you don’t work for an asshole that will let his customers just do whatever they want to you. I should call the fucking sheriff.” He grumbles, looking at you guiltily.

You cup his cheeks, shaking your head. "It's okay baby. I couldn't - something was gonna happen eventually. I had to leave at some point because they wanted me to...to give extras and I refused." You confess, seeing him clench his jaw. "Leave it. I have been fired. It's done. Let's go. I want to go home."

Javi nods and guides you over to your car. Once again hating how big of a piece of shit it is. He’s spent hours under the fucking hood cursing when he had the extra time. He hadn’t been able to convince you to let him buy you a more reliable car, even going so far as to tell you that you could make payments to him if it made you feel better. “I’ll follow you, okay?”

You shake your head, “I’m done with the clubs. I don’t - I want to do something else. I don’t want to have to fend off assholes. I don’t want to tell them no every night because one night…one night they won’t take no for an answer and you might not be there. I can’t keep risking it.” You step under the hot water, letting him step in behind you. “I’ll find something else. Hopefully in another few months I’ll be finding a job with my damn degree.”

Javi hums and nods, reaching for your sponge thing and your body wash so he can wash the glitter, sweat and lotion off your body. “Then just don’t work.” He suggests. “I’ll make sure the bills get paid. Not like I am paying anything living with my pop.” He wants you to concentrate on finishing school and it’s been a struggle balancing things. “Just until you can get a job with your degree.”

You lean against him as his hands wash your body with the sponge. “I can’t ask that of you.” You shake your head, “I- I will find another job. I’ll be okay. I have some savings for the rest of school and I can manage the rent here. I’ll be okay.” You promise, leaning up to kiss his jaw. You know he wants to help but you’re proud and you don’t want him to think you’re with him because you want him to pay for everything. “I- I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you. It’s not like that at all. I- I love you.” You murmur, staring at his chest to avoid those dark eyes.

Javi freezes for a moment, watching you intently as you avoid his gaze. “I know you do, hermosa.” He murmurs quietly after a moment. “You know I love you too. That's why I want to help.”

You cup his cheek, bringing your gaze to his. “I know. I just - I want you to know that this isn’t just sex. I love you. I don’t want your money, I want you.” You murmur, loving how his hands caress you, washing you down, and you grab the body wash so you can wash him too.

“I know that.” Javi scoffs slightly. “You tried to give me free lap dances every night when I came in. Even though you know I’m coming home with you.” He doesn’t allow you to work for free, always paying you. He knows your bosses would have gotten on your ass for that if you did.

You chuckle, “I just wanted to grind on my boyfriend, that’s all.” You put a label on what you are and you pray that doesn’t scare him off but you have gone on dates, slept over at your place, and he’s brought you coffee and drinks. You’d consider it dating. “Now you get all the lap dances for free.”

“I don’t mind that.” He smirks as he looks down at you where you are washing his legs. “If you want, I’ll still tuck bills into your panties.” He jokes, knowing you would never let him do that at home. He winks at you to let you know that he was kidding.

“You can’t afford me, Peña.” You roll your eyes at him playfully, glad you are now both clean and you caress his chest, looking at him while the hot water hits your back. “Can you take me to bed? I want to feel you.” You reach down to wrap your fingers around his semi, wanting to have him inside of you.

Javi groans, just like he does every time that you touch him. “Fuck baby.” He huffs. “Get out and let’s get dried off.” He smirks, reaching out and squeezing your tit gently. “Want to make you feel good and forget all about tonight.”

You nod, getting out of the shower to grab two towels and you dry off, watching him in the mirror as he dries himself. When he walks back into your bedroom, you are laying on the bed waiting for him, “come on Peña and fuck me.” You order, spreading your legs. His display tonight has had you wet since leaving the club.

Javi chuckles and wraps his hand around his cock to pump it as he walks towards the bed. “Rub your clit baby, want to see you get even wetter.” He loves for you to touch yourself in front of him, finding it even more erotic than your dancing.

You follow his order, rubbing your clit, and you moan when you watch him jerk his cock, fully hard as his dark eyes trail over your body. “Fuck baby. You look so good.” You compliment him, loving the small tummy he has and his muscular arms.

“You look better.” He promises, greedily watching you. You huff but it’s true, you look like a fucking sexy goddess. “Always so sexy.” He kneels on the bed and shuffles forward. “Put me in, hermosa.”

You reach down to grip his cock, positioning him at your entrance. He pushes his hips forward and you shift your legs over his hips. He moves onto his elbows, pushing deeper inside of you and you reach up to caress his back. “I love you Jav.” You murmur, kissing his shoulder.

“Love you too.” Javi grunts, turning his head to press his lips to yours. He grabs your hand and laces his fingers with yours. He rocks his hips slightly and groans at the way you tighten around him.

“Fuck baby.” You gasp against his lips, loving how he slowly rocks into you, making you whimper at how deep he gets. Squeezing his hand, you try to meet his thrusts, rocking your hips up into his. “Baby. Oh baby.” You moan, loving the way he stretches you and pulls you apart bit by bit.

“That’s it, baby.” Javi coos, rocking his hips a little faster as he pants. “So good. That tight pussy squeezing me so tight.” He moans, kissing down along your jaw and when he reaches your shoulder, he bites down hard enough to leave his teeth marks, able to mark you now that you aren’t working at the club.

You cry out with pleasure when he bites down on your shoulder, knowing it’s been hard for him to not mark you up when he’s a biter. You love that you can wear his mark now, show the world that you belong to Javier Peña. “Fuck. Do it again.” You beg, rocking your hips up to meet his faster pace. He’s intoxicating and you desperately want him to push you over the edge before he fills you up.

“Fuck, gonna bite all over you.” He promises thickly, his teeth digging into the top of your breast and he ducks his head down even further to bite your nipple. He doesn’t make that one too hard, instead he baths it with his tongue after he bites to soothe it. “Make you see my teeth marks every time you get dressed.”

“Goddamn. I - I really want that.” You admit, shifting beneath him and he hits just the right spot on his next thrust. “Fuck Javi. There. Right there.” You pant and he nods, rocking into you and focusing on that spot. Your neighbors must hate you. Screaming Javi’s name at all hours of the night but you couldn’t help it even if you tried. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Javi - oh!” You moan, clamping down on his cock when his pelvis presses against your clit just right.

Instantly, Javi groans, knowing that he won’t last. Not when you are like this. Sex has been incredible between the two of you, your orgasms becoming quicker and more intense with time. He moans out your name as he buries himself deep and fills you up. Shuddering over you and pressing his forehead to your shoulder as he does.

You pant, trying to catch your breath as his cock pulses inside of you. You run your fingers through his hair, loving having him on top of you, and you close your eyes, savoring how he feels, how he sounds. “Love you baby.” You sigh and he murmurs a “love you” into your skin. Lol

****

You are struggling today. The smell of bacon cooking has your stomach rolling and you can barely stand to ask for someone’s order. Deciding to take the night shifts at a diner until you finish school made the most sense, even if Javi had offered multiple times to pay for your apartment. You hadn’t given in, wanting to provide for yourself until you can work in your field. You breathe deeply, taking the order and once you’ve sent it to the kitchen, you rush into the bathroom to throw up. After washing your face and mouth, your eyes widen. “Shit.” You hiss, realizing that you’ve missed your period. You’ll get a test after work. Maybe you’re just exhausted studying for finals.

Javi hums to himself as he glances at the clock. You should be close to getting off work now and he would head up to the diner to wait for you so you can drive home together, you had asked him to not come in. Apparently unsure of getting fired if he hangs out there so Javi had just let himself into your apartment to wait for you. 

This shit is getting harder to do. Wait around for you. Or not take things further. For the first time in a long time, Javi didn’t like having space from you. Wanted to talk about moving in together. Maybe even move you out to the ranch. It would be good, you wouldn’t have to pay rent and Javi could sleep in the same bed as you every night.

You finish work, just barely managing it, and you have been nauseous the entire time, unable to even look at the food you’ve been serving. Your boss noticed and asked what’s wrong and after telling her you feel sick, she sent you home. Javi should be coming to pick you up soon and you are nervous. You’d walked to the nearest 24 hour pharmacy, the daylight breaking over the horizon and you bought the test, taking it in the bathroom. It was positive and you’re terrified. The future you worked so hard for hangs in the balance. You don’t think that Javi wants kids. He’s never mentioned it and you know that Lorraine faking her pregnancy must’ve terrified him. You walk back to the diner and stand outside to wait for Javi and that’s when you see her. Lorraine and her family are coming in for breakfast.

“If it isn’t the county whore.” Lorraine’s husband Randy rushes their two kids inside, not wanting the girls to speak to you. “What are you doing in a decent place?” She demands, curling her nose up at you. “Should you be letting those creeps shove dollar bills up your twat at the club?”

You roll your eyes at her words. You haven’t seen her for years and the irony of her showing up the morning you’ve just found out your pregnant isn’t lost on you. “At least they’d pay for me. You couldn’t get a dime.” You retort back, making her wrinkle her nose at you. “Well at least I’m not letting every Tom, Dick and Harry touch me for money.” She hisses and you roll your eyes at her before they widen when you see Javi’s truck pull into the parking lot.

Javi curses under his breath slightly but he doesn’t hesitate to step out of the cab. He shoves his hand through his hair and wonders how this is going to play out as he walks over to the two of you. Instead of pretending he’s not with you, he leans in and kisses your lips. “Hey, you ready?” He asks before he turns towards his ex fiancée. “Lorraine. Come to see your sister at work?” He asks, like it’s a friendly family reunion. He knows she doesn’t talk to you and he subtly slides his hand around your waist. “Too bad she just got off and needs to go home and sleep.”

Lorraine stares for several moments, eyes flicking between you and Javi and you brace yourself. Lorraine has never been able to cope with not getting what she wanted, even if that includes her ex fiancé from years ago. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Lorraine shrieks, “you’re fucking my little sister?” 

You shake your head, “adopted, remember?” You are bitter that she essentially ruined your life. 

“Jesus Christ Javier. I knew you were trying to fuck your way through the entire town but my sister? Oh my God. Did you…did you- when we-?” 

You scoff and roll your eyes, “I was seventeen. It was illegal. Javi never touched me then. He was with you.” You remind her but she shakes her head. 

“You always had that stupid crush on him but I figured it would fade. I never - ohhhh, you met her at the strip club, didn’t you? I heard about your affection for whores in Colombia. Guess you wanted to continue the tradition when you got back to Texas.” Lorraine chuckles and you shrink into Javi’s side. She’s always had this way of beating you down and making you feel worthless.

Javi narrows his eyes at Lorraine, he wants to lash out at her but she’s your sister. He doesn’t want to cause more issues than you already have with your family. “She doesn’t work at the club anymore.” He tells her simply. “And you should be proud of her, first and only one from your family to get a college degree.” Lorraine had dropped out in order to plan the wedding that had never happened. As far as he knows, she has never gone back.

Lorraine shakes her head, “a degree she paid for shaking her ass and getting her tits out.” 

You snort, “isn’t that what you did to get Randy? You should go inside to your family, Lorraine. It was…nice to see you.” You say despite your blood boiling at her. She fucked up her life, tried to force Javier to marry her, lied about her pregnancy, then went off the rails when Javi stood her up…yet you’re the bad guy. 

“Whatever. You deserve each other. I have a great husband and two beautiful girls.” She says defensively. 

“Exactly. Go inside and be with them.” Javier demands and Lorraine tilts her chin up and makes her way into the diner. 

“Shit.” You huff, turning to look at Javi once she’s inside. “I’m sorry about that. She’s the last person I expected to show up here. She was never a breakfast person.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Javi shakes his head and starts guiding you over to the truck. “She’s just pissed off that she didn’t get to stomp all over you and I’m not hiding away.” He squeezes your hip before he lets go so he can open the door for you to climb into the cab. “Forget about her. How was work?”

You sigh, remembering the test you have shoved in your purse. “It was…it wasn’t great today. All the food…it was making me nauseous.” You have no idea how to tell him, the pregnant test feeling like it weighs a ton in your purse.

“Are you sick?” Javi frowns slightly as he looks over at you, starting up the truck before he backs it out of the parking spot. “We can get you in the bed and I’ll run out to the drugstore. Just tell me what you need.” He wonders if you’ve gotten the virus that’s going around lately. Feeling bad because he had been thinking about fucking you before you went to sleep. Now that was off the table, but he doesn’t care as long as you get some rest.

You bite your lip, struggling to get the words out. “No Javi. I…I - I went and got a test after work. I, uh, it was positive. I’m pregnant.” You tell him, “I didn’t realize it but I skipped a period. I’m so sorry baby. I- shit - I fucked up. My birth control fucked up.” You choke, tears stinging in your eyes.

Javi’s eyes widen and his knuckles grip the steering wheel even tighter. Fear rushes through him, although there’s not an ounce of doubt in his mind. You had demonstrated how much disdain you had for what Lorraine pulled on him. “How- how far along are you?” He manages to choke out, wondering how you feel about it. You’re almost done with your degree and haven’t even had a chance to work in your field, you might not want the baby.

“Maybe 6-8 weeks. I don’t know. I gotta go to the doctor to be sure. I’m so sorry this happened. I didn’t - I swear to you I didn’t do this on purpose. It was an accident. I’m sorry baby.” You choke, tearing stinging in your eyes when you see how he grips the steering wheel.

“It’s- it’s not your fault.” Javi shakes his head, trying to shove down the fear of being a horrible dad. He knows he’s got a lot of shit baggage and could fuck a kid up. “What- uh, what do you want to do?” He asks, looking over at you.

You bite your lip, “I don’t know. I, uh, I live in a studio apartment. I’m about to graduate. I - we aren’t living together or married and I don’t want to force you into that. We didn’t - it’s completely unplanned and we are completely unprepared.” You try to be logical, wanting to point out the reasons why you shouldn’t have this baby.

Javi snorts softly. “I’m sure hundreds of people have babies they aren’t prepared for every year.” He tells you. He shakes his head, “hermosa, I was asking if you wanted to keep it or if you didn’t want the baby. We can work out all the details on everything else, we have at least 7 months.”

You swallow harshly, looking over at Javi. “What do you want?” You ask, imagining a life with Javi, your child running around and adoring their father as much as you do. Chucho being a grandfather and showing them around the ranch. It seems ideal. What you’ve always yearned for since you were a kid. “I want it.” You admit softly, “I want to keep our baby.”

“I was planning on asking you to move in.” Javi confesses. “Out to the ranch, give up your apartment and not have to pay rent or worry about that bill. Plus I’d get to sleep next to you every night.” 

You turn to look at him, “really?” You ask and he nods, reaching for your hand to kiss the back of it. “You wanted me to move in?” You ask breathlessly and he nods again. Your answering smile makes his heart jump and you kiss the back of his hand, “I would love that. Waking up in your arms, between your legs.” You wink suggestively, “I want to move in with you.”

Javi breathes out a laugh and nods. “Okay, yeah. Pop will love having you out at the ranch. Especially with you pregnant with his grandchild.” He promises you. He had talked to his dad about it last week, and gotten the older man’s approval.

You nod, unable to stop smiling. Excited and scared for what lies ahead. “I guess I better give my landlord notice.” You tell him and he nods, offering you a wink.

****

“Holy shit.” You pant, barely able to keep yourself upright but Javi wraps his arm around your chest, pulling you back against him as he pushes inside of you. “Fuck baby. So - so good.” Your bump sticks out and you turn your head to kiss his jaw.

“Look at you.” Javi’s other hand cradles your breast, not squeezes but just holding it since your tits are sensitive while you have been pregnant. “So fucking beautiful,” he groans, rocking his hips insistently. The need for you has just increased with you living here and starting to showing.

You moved in with Javi six months ago and your bump has made everyday things harder but Javi has been there every day. His cock pushes deep inside of you, giving you what you need, and you reach behind you to tangle your fingers in his hair. “Fuck baby. So good. Always so fucking good.” You pant and love how he makes sure you’re comfortable and enjoying yourself every time you have sex.

“You feel so good baby.” Javi coos, loving how your bump is getting bigger everyday. He’s seen the ultrasound scans and held your hand during the doctor’s appointments. Cried in the truck after hearing the heartbeat with you for the first time. His hand slides down over your bump to find your clit so he can make sure you cum. “You’re so sexy and I’m the only one who gets to see how sexy you are pregnant.”

“Only you baby. Only you.” You promise, moaning when he rubs your clit just right and his cock pushes deep inside of you. “God, I love you.” You pant, pushed closer to the edge and you whimper when he hits just right inside of you. “Fuck. You’re gonna make me - I’m - shit!” You gasp, tilting your head back onto his shoulder.

“Fuck, that’s it, hermosa. That’s it.” He hisses, gritting his teeth as he works you through your orgasm. “Fuck I love you.” His own hips start to stutter, pace faltering as he pushes towards his own release until he is grinding up into you and panting your name into your ear before biting down on your neck.

You love how he feels when he cums inside of you, his hands gentle when he relaxes and caresses your bump. “Your poor pa having to listen to us go at it all the time.” You giggle and shake your head, shifting to lay down and Javier curls around you, kissing your shoulder.

He snorts. “That man is dead to the world when he sleeps. Besides.” He curls his arm around you and strokes your burgeoning belly. “He’s already telling me I can’t let La Niña be an only child. She needs a hermano to protect her.” He hums, smiling at his father’s nickname for his coming grandchild.

You snort, “one baby at a time, Peña.” You smile and caress his forearm. “I haven’t got this one out yet. She’s kicking.” You hum, knowing he can feel it against his palm. She knows her daddy’s voice by now and you can’t believe you’re here in his arms. You spin around to face him, your bump pressed into his stomach. “I- I know you might say no and there’s - I don’t care if you say no because I understand but…will you marry me?” You ask him softly.

“Damnit.” Javi huffs quietly, frowning at you. “I was going to ask you when you were at your baby shower next week.” He grumbles at you, even though he’s not mad. Leaning in, he brushes his nose against yours and grins. “Where’s my engagement ring? You can’t ask someone to marry them without one.”

You giggle and nod. “I did.” It’s a simple silver band, but it will look good on his finger. “It’s in our closet, in my jewelry box.” 

“Oh my god, you actually bought me a ring.” He doesn’t know why but the idea of it makes him emotional and he sits up to reach for you. “You knew I would say yes, huh?” He teases.

You shrug, caressing your bump as he tugs you closer, “we are kind of tied together forever now. What’s making it official?” You giggle, reaching for the box. “I’ll even ask you properly.Javier Fernando Garcia Peña. Will you marry me?” You ask softly, wanting him to know you’re serious.

“Jesus Christ.” Javi shakes his head and leans in. “Of course I’m going to marry you.” He promises before he crushes his lips to yours. Your engagement ring is in the bedside drawer and he reaches behind him to open it so he can grab it while kissing you.

You press your lips to his, pulling back when he presses the box into your hand. You look down, opening the velvet box and your eyes widen, “baby. It’s - it’s beautiful.” You choke, caressing the diamond and you look up at him, “is this your mom’s ring?”

“It is.” Javi nods and bites his lip. His mother had never really cared for Lorraine and he had never given this ring to her but he wants you to wear it. “Can I put it on you? Since I’m going to marry you?” He grins at you happily.

You nod, letting him slide the ring onto your finger and you reach for the box by his knee, deciding to slide his ring onto his finger. “You’re not gonna ask me?” You tease, rubbing his ring with your finger and you admire your own ring. It’s perfect.

Javi huffs at you and picks up your hand, calling your name softly. “I love you. You’ve been here for me since getting back from Colombia and I know there is no one else I love or trust more in this world. I want to be by your side for everything life throws at you.” He murmurs softly. “Will you marry me? Tie me down? Lock me up and throw away the key?”

You smirk, “tie you down? Lock you up and throw away the key, huh? Didn’t know you were that kinky, Peña?” You tease, cupping his cheek with your free hand. “I love you. So much. I want to be your wife. I want to be beside you no matter what life throws at us. I want you. I want our family. I love you so much baby.” You murmur, rubbing his lower lip with your thumb.

“I love you too baby.” Javier promises you, leaning in and kissing you tenderly. “So much.”

****

“It’s okay baby, I have her.” Holding his baby girl is never a problem, grinning at the scrunched face that his one month old daughter is making. Even though he knows that’s her ‘pooping face’, he’s still enamored with her since holding your hand as you screamed and pushed her into the world. “You pick out better fruit than I do.” He trails along behind you as you wheel the shopping cart through the doors, bouncing her slightly in his arms and swaying as she continues to make faces and grunts. The diaper bag is on his shoulder and anyone who has ever known Javier Peña would be shocked at how naturally he had taken to fatherhood.

“Has anyone ever told you how sexy you look as a father?” You ask him as you walk towards the fresh produce. 

Javier smirks, “only you. Every day.” 

You chuckle and shrug one shoulder, “only two more weeks until I’m cleared, baby.” You remind him and he nods, “oh I’m counting the days.” He promises, knowing you need him as much as he needs you but he wants you to be healthy and safe to do so. Maria fusses in his arms and he rocks her while you focus on picking out some fruit. Chucho likes bananas so you inspect them and put a bunch in the cart. 

For some reason, your instinct tells you to look up and when you do, your eyes meet Lorraine’s, her eyes flicking between you and Javier holding your baby. She narrows her eyes and walks over, “so you finally trapped him then?” She says, her eyes flicking down to your wedding rings. 

“No. I didn’t trap him. I’m not like you, Lorraine.” You sigh, honestly over the past. You are married, you have a daughter you adore and a husband that you love deeply and you don’t want to keep rehashing the past. “This is Maria. Your niece.” You announce, stepping closer to Javier so Lorraine can see the baby's face. 

She swallows harshly, regret in her eyes but neither you nor Javi have any malice towards her now. “If you want to come over and meet her properly, you’re welcome to.” Javi offers her and she shakes her head, “no. No. I, uh, I won’t intrude. Con-congratulations.” She stammers and fumbles to turn around and wheel her cart off in a hurry. 

You sigh, turning back towards Javier, “well, we tried.” You murmur and he nods, reaching out to rub your shoulder. 

“She will come around eventually. I want Maria to have a family that loves her, not resenting her. She still needs to meet Steve and Connie.” Javier says and you know he’s right. It’s been hard to have Maria without your adopted parents or sister but you know you’ll be able to do anything with Javi and Chucho by your side. 

“The funny thing is…I’ve forgiven her for everything because if she hadn’t fucked up, we would’ve never got together and had Maria.” You tell him and he nods, “exactly. We wouldn’t have our family. I love you.” Javi murmurs, not wanting to announce it to the entire produce section. 

You smile softly, reaching up to cup his cheek and you chuckle at the soft blush that appears, “I love you too. Come on, your dad wants that special bran cereal that always seems to sell out. Who the hell in this town eats bran cereal except your dad?” You snort and push the cart. 

Javi chuckles, following behind you with Maria in his arms and she snuggles into his chest, falling asleep. His eyes trace along your back and down to your ass and you stride through the grocery store and Javi thinks to himself, “I’ll follow her to the ends of the earth and back.”

[psychedelic-ink]

ㅤㅤㅤ❤︎ 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍

ㅤjavier peña x plus size f!reader

genre: smut, strangers to lovers/fwb, minors dni

word count: 4.5k

summary: it's the 80s. when the dig you've been working at has to take a short break due to escobar and politics, you decide to wait it out at medellín. while hitchhiking, a charming stranger pulls up.

warnings: mild weed usage (reader), car sex, nipple play, dirty talk, dry humping, age gap, piv, creampie, unprotected sex, brat taming if you squint, some weight-related insecurities if you squint but mostly she's just vibing and living her life

a/n: i would really consider writing more of this so please let me know what you think! a special shoutout to @inklore because i feel like i wouldn't think about hitchhiker smut on the bus if it wasn't for her fic roadside delight which all of you should go and read rn because it's amazing, ily bby 💗

**dividers by the amazing @saradika xx

Raindrops land sparsely over your skin, most of the wetness caught over your cheeks. Sliding down your neck, they sneak beneath the sweetheart neckline of your olive green dress. The skirt dances with the wind, teasing the inner curves of your thighs as it playfully flutters in your wake. Despite the rain, it’s still warm. However, that doesn’t stop the chill of the gray clouds from settling over your skin. With a deep sigh, you lift your thumb once more. 

You have no idea how long you’ve had your thumb sticking up; maybe it’s been only ten minutes or an hour, regardless, you’re frustrated and want the wait to end. 

Some cars had slowed down but upon seeing the men that were driving, you had quickly hidden your thumb away. You knew what they were thinking. Thanks to the rain, there was only little left to the imagination. The dress that already hugged your breasts and hips hugged you even tighter now, the fabric almost sheer as it exposed your tight nipples. You should’ve brought a jacket with you but honestly, how were you supposed to know it was going to rain today? 

“Fucking hell,” you mutter, pushing your wet hair away from your neck in frustration. Not a single car in sight after what you thought had been at least ten minutes of waiting. Clicking your tongue, you reach into your bag, retrieving a lighter and a joint thoughtfully rolled by one of your colleagues at the excavation site. It was greatly appreciated since you weren’t the best at rolling. 

Taking a drag, you sigh, the smoke mingling with the misty air. The excavation site had declared a short break due to some unforeseen issue related to the escalating Escobar problem in the region. It's hush-hush among the team, but you've caught snippets of worried conversations about increased security concerns and the need to lay low for a while. 

Your shoulders relax as the smoke swirls in your lungs, your body now feeling rejuvenated instead of cold under the rain. In the distance, you hear the soft hum of a car approaching and narrow your eyes as you look at the distance. Your eyes light up when you see a car approaching and this time, no matter who’s in it, you promise yourself you’ll just get in. 

The cigarette still between your lips, you lift your thumb with enthusiasm, taking a step further into the road, you giggle slightly thinking you might just as well jump in front of it to make it stop. You want to get out of the rain, want warm clothes and blankets. 

The car comes to a smooth halt. 

You lean towards the already open window, you quickly pluck the join away from your lips and smile broadly at the dark-haired stranger. 

“Hola,” you say, hoping your accent is decent enough. “¿podrías darme un aventón?”

The stranger gives you a curious look, his lips curl upward, eyes dropping to your cleavage before lifting them back up to meet your gaze. Your breath catches in your throat, chest heaving at the sight of him. He’s beautiful. Dark hair, dark eyes, plump lips. Blinking, you swallow and press your legs together, thankful he can’t see it. 

“Where you headed?” he asks. 

“Medellín,” A timid chuckle escapes your lips. “Did my accent give it away?” 

“A little,” he jerks his head to the side. “Hop in. You must be freezing like that.” 

Grateful, you open the car and slide yourself inside. Warmth immediately envelops you like a cozy blanket and you sigh happily, leaning into the comfort of the seat. “Thanks,” you say, offering your name along with it. “What’s your name?” 

“My name’s Javier. But you can call me Javi.” 

“I think I’ll stick to Javier, I like the way it hits my tongue.” 

He grins, “Do you, now?” 

It takes you everything to ignore the delicious roll of his tongue and how it would feel on your skin. You lift your hand suddenly, the joint visible between your fingers. 

“Is it okay if I smoke this in your car?” 

He looks confused for a brief moment. You notice him taking in deep breaths, sniffing the air, his eyes go slightly wide with realization but then the surprise in his eyes molds into amusement. 

“Go ahead,” he says. “You’re awfully bold to ask that without knowing who I am or what I do. What if I was a cop?” 

“Cops don’t look as good as you do.” 

Shit. 

“I look good?” 

You hear the mirth in his voice and quickly change the subject, “You want one?” 

“No,” he answers firmly. Confusion furrows your brow and his tone quickly softens. “Let’s just say I’m not a fan. And it’s illegal.” 

“Oh, sorry. I can put it out, you don’t have to be nice about it.” 

He thinks about it for a while but shakes his head. “You don’t have much of it left anyway,” The car starts moving and you look at the spot you’ve been waiting at for god knows how long one last time. Good riddance. “So, Medellín, what business do you have there?” 

“No business,” you answer promptly, taking another drag. You blow the smoke out the window, the wind whisking it away. “I’m studying archeology. I was doing research at Ciudad Perdida but we had to take a break for safety reasons. We might still go on so until I get a firm ‘go back home’ I was thinking to wait it out there.” 

“It’s not really safe there either, you know. You gotta be careful when you get there,” he gives you a side glance, eyes moving up and down your curves. Your heart rate escalates and when you press your legs together once more, it doesn’t go unnoticed. “You’re awfully squirmy there,” he says, voice low and all gravel. “You okay?” 

Your veins buzzing, you throw the remainder of the joint out the window. Your head is swimming pleasantly, the smoke loosening your tongue and making you eager to confess all the dirty things you want to do with him. But along with that, uncertainty creeps in. You don’t even know if he wants you that way. He seems older than you. He might’ve just been looking after you and the lust you heard in his deep voice might’ve just been in your imagination. 

“I’m not squirming,” you say quickly. He doesn’t look convinced by your answer, hands tightening around the steering wheel. “How long until we get there?” 

“A couple of hours,” his eyes catch your lingering gaze and he smiles. “There’s a gas station a little ahead so I suggest you go to the bathroom, sweetheart. If you have to go.” 

“Yeah, okay.” 

“You hungry?” 

Your hand wanders to your stomach, you can’t tell if he’s asking because of your appearance or if it’s a genuine question. He speaks up before you can decide. “I’m starving,” he says. “I also need to buy a pack so if you want anything just tell me. I’ll pay.” 

“I have money.” 

He laughs at that, and laughs even harder at your pout, “You’re a student in Colombia, hitchhiking. I doubt you have much,” he shrugs. “Besides, you’re a guest in this country, let me treat you.” 

“You’re being awfully nice.” 

“Am I? I don’t think so.” You see the gas station coming into view. “But mamá always did say I had a soft spot for pretty girls.” 

“You think I’m pretty?” you answer, hoping to have more a sultry tone but your words come out breathless. Excited. 

The car slows, his eyes are glued to your neck, he slowly moves them down. His dark gaze eating you up. You can almost feel it caressing your skin, heating you, and licking over the waterdrops that stubbornly remains on your skin. 

“Don’t say it like you don’t already know.” The car stops along with your breath. He pulls the keys out and leans close, lips almost touching your pulse. You feel his breath on your ear, warm, it coaxes goosebumps to rise across your skin. His eyes trail over the curve of your lips. “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

You shake your head, “No.” 

His lips touch your cheek. It happens so quickly that you feel you might’ve imagined it. The rough hairs above his lip tickle your skin and you instinctively chase the heat of him as he moves away. 

Before you know it he’s out of the car, the patch of skin where his lips touched still burning with delight. Stunned, you touch your cheek with the tips of your fingers. 

Maybe waiting in the rain for someone like him wasn’t so bad after all. 

You should’ve known it would end up like this. 

Him, to park the car in a semi-remote spot. 

You, to cradle his lap, your dress pushed up all the way up exposing your soft thighs with his hands all over you. 

You should’ve known. 

The soft pitter patters of rain hit the top of the car, you’re too occupied by his mouth to realize the sun had slowly started to peek through the clouds, warming the damp concrete. Javier’s tongue is awfully skillful. He slips his tongue between your lips, licking himself deeper into your mouth, his hands pull at your neckline, exposing your bare breasts. He flattens his palms against them, your nipples tighten against the heat of his palm. 

He breaks away with a groan, “I knew you were braless,” he rasps, dipping to your neck. “I fucking knew it.” 

“And I knew you were staring,” you tease and expose more of your neck. He nips at the tender skin playfully, a shiver runs up your spine. “Here I thought you picked me up out of the goodness of your heart.” 

“Tell me to stop and I will.” 

“No—god, no. I don’t ever want you to stop.” 

And that’s all he needs to hear as he lifts your breasts towards his mouth. He dips his head, swirling his tongue over the pebbled flesh. Your body seizes. Your breath caught in your lungs, burning like wildfire. He twists the other with his finger and you moan loudly. The fabric of your underwear grows damp, sticking to your skin. He sucks harder. The thick outline of his cock rubs against your core, a feeling like electricity shooting up your spine, your head falls and he bites. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” you whimper, grinding down. Another wave of arousal washes over you, the effect of the weed you inhaled pounding between your thighs.  

Javier glares up at you, “Such a dirty mouth,” he grunts and holds your tongue between two fingers. Your brows furrow with pleasure, the hard denim of his pants growing damp thanks to you. “I don’t like bad girls. And you seem to be walking on the edge of it, sweetheart.” 

“I–I’m not bad,” you whimper, your words slurring thanks to his hold on your tongue. He lifts a brow, unconvinced. You don’t know why you’re hurt by him calling you bad, but you want to make it up to him—why you do, you have no idea. “I’ll. . . I’ll be good.” 

“Promise?” 

You only nod and he pinches your tongue, pain blossoms over the soft muscle. 

“Promise,” you slur. “I’ll be your good girl.” 

Satisfied for now, he releases your tongue and brings his hand back to your aching nipples. He sucks on one while pinching the other, both sensations making your mind whirl. 

“You like it when I play with your tits, hermosa?” he groans at the way you rolls your hips, pulling away his lips, he starts playing with both with his fingers. Twisting, pinching, and pulling. You’re trembling. A sopping, wet mess. “So sensitive. You think you can come like this?” 

You only moan, your lids fluttering like a butterfly’s wings as you look at him. He smiles, something dark crossing over his handsome features. “I think you can,” he says. “Because you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” 

Slack-jawed, you answer, “Y–Yes.” 

Javier guides the sloppy roll of your hips. His mouth on your neck, he teases the flesh there while mercilessly playing with your tits however he sees fit. Your nipples are so hard from stimulation it almost hurts, Every twist of his fingers prompts a fresh wave of arousal seep into your underwear. Your body is out of control. Burning from the inside out. You’ve never felt it this intense before, never felt your orgasm nearing so viciously. 

His lips hover an inch away from yours, you part your mouth for a kiss but he smiles cruelly, you can smell the hints of tobacco when he speaks, “I can feel how soaked you are, baby. So wet and all for a stranger you just met,” he nips at your chin, gives your nipples a hard pinch that makes you see white. “I wonder if you’d do this with all the others who would’ve stopped for you?” 

“Others did slow down,” you say followed up by an elongated whine. Javier thrusts his hips, the rough denim of his pants catching against your clothed clit. He licks your bottom lip. “But they gave me a weird feeling so I hid away my hand. So. . . I wouldn’t do this with just anyone.” 

“Fuck, preciosa, you’re saying all the right things,” with one hand, he slides your dress up further, fingers teasing your slit. “It’s an honor to have this cunt all to myself.” 

Only then does he kiss you. It’s hungry, depraved. He sucks on your tongue, presses his lips hard into yours. The hand toying with your core moves to your hip, he squeezes your love handle, tugs you down as he thrusts his hips into the air. You cry out and he swallows the wanton sounds that rattle your throat. 

“That’s it, come for me,” he purrs, his hips pressing into yours. You grind down helplessly, aching to feel the hardness of him. Your ears begin to ring. Your body tingling and tensing while the taste of your nearing release stains your tongue. Your eyelids flutter closed, his lips once again drawing an aching nipple into his mouth. He sucks and sucks and sucks—and you finally break down, gushing and squeezing around nothing. You feel the wetness bleeding into the fabric, your legs shaking around where they frame his narrow hips, your head falls over and the soft locks of his hair soothe your burning cheeks. 

Javier is still moving against you. His cock painfully strained against his zipper, coated in your slick. Both his hands drop to your waist, squeezing as he finds your lips, giving you a tender kiss. 

He doesn’t say a word, his hand sneaking between your legs, he slips them under the elastic and pushes two between your folds. You swear you feel his cock throb when he realizes how wet you truly are. 

“Shit,” he breathes out. “Fuck, you really did come. Such a good girl,” he lifts your head by the chin and stares into your eyes, your pulse races again. “Good girl,” he repeats, watching as your lips tighten and eyes go wide. “You feel so good on top of me, making a mess out of these shitty pants. You come so pretty, querida.” 

“Javier,” you moan, your nipples tightening again. 

He pulls his fingers out out and tastes you in earnest, he moans around his fingers, “So sweet.” 

You moan again, the fire between your legs roaring to life. He cups your breasts and pushes them towards you, watching the way your eyes roll, “Let me fuck you in the backseat,” he says, as if you would ever say no to that. “I wanna see this ass bouncing on my cock.” 

No one ever mentions how awkward car sex can be, especially when you need to move around. 

You try not to show it to Javier but you have a sneaking suspicion your face is basically an open book. He slides to the back first, moving between the middle of the front seats. Moving around in a car already makes you awkward, it’s even worse when your tits are out in the open, moving side to side. 

But you guess it can’t be too bad since Javier is staring at them instead of you. 

“Is it bad that I want to play with them some more?” he chuckles.

“Definitely not,” you smile back, the light-hearted conversation gives you the courage to finally move between the seats. He quickly slides to the side, his lips on yours before you can even sit. He strokes his cock through his jeans, tongue dancing along yours, he sucks the air from your lungs. 

“Take off your dress,” he orders, watching, he unbuttons his jeans. You strip quickly, your body already aching to feel him deep inside you. He hums with approval when you’re bare to him, he doesn’t bother taking off his clothes, instead, he slightly pushes down his pants and frees his cock. 

A bead of precome glistens at the head, the head of his cock swollen, a hint of red adding color. He’s thick enough to have your pussy already throbbing. Your mouth waters. Javier wraps a hand around his length and pumps it under your lustful gaze, more precome gathers at the slit, slowly trickling down the side. Your breath hitches when you notice him smiling. 

“You want a taste?” 

You immediately lean down with your tongue out, sucking the tip, you clean him and push yourself further down. Your lips stretch around him deliciously. 

Javier doesn’t allow you to taste him further though, with his hand on your nape, he squeezes, “If you do that I’ll come in seconds.” You look up to him between lowered lashes. “And I’d rather come somewhere else, preciosa.” 

“How do you want me?” you ask, voice horse. 

“On all fours.” 

Again, a bit tricky because you have the constant fear your leg is going to slip and you’re going to fall, but the backseat is comfortable enough for that not to happen. His hands slide up your back and he holds you by the shoulders, bringing you close. His cock pushes between your thighs, parting your folds, your slick wets his cock, making the glide easier. 

“You know,” he says, his voice dropping dangerously. “Anyone could see us right now. Anyone who decides to drive by is gonna see us fucking.” 

You don’t expect yourself to clench at his words but you do, a soft whimper echoing from your lips. You can’t see it, but you know he’s smiling from ear to ear. “Does that turn you on, hermosa?” When you don’t answer, he leans closer, breath tickling the shell of your ear. “Don’t worry, it turns me on too.” 

Pushing the tip of his cock into you, your chest begins to move with labored breaths. He buries himself to the hilt with ease. A loud moan escapes his lips as his hips are snug over your ass. Your elbows give way, your head dropping to the leather sheets. It feels too good, too full, too intense. Your body breaks in sweat, your body fluttering around and clamping desperately around his cock. His hands follow the curve of your back, laying on top of each ass cheek. 

“Love this ass,” he mutters. “Are you alright? Can I move?” 

“Y–Yeah,” you choke out, desperate. Javier begins to move. Slowly pulling back his hips, he slams into you, ripping a moan from your chest. The leather seats creak as he thrusts into you, his pace gradually picking up. Each time he snaps his hips forward, you feel like your world is spinning. He grips onto your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he pounds into you.

“Come on, sweetheart, push those hips back. Prove to me how good you’re feeling on my cock.” 

All coherent thoughts leave your mind as you surrender yourself to the sensations. You meet his thrusts halfway, your body screaming at how deep he is. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull, your hard nipples grazing against the leather, it adds to your pleasure. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes throughout the car. He leans forward, his lips brushing against your neck as he groans your name.

You can feel the tension building up inside you, your body on fire. The coil in your stomach tightens, your legs starting to quiver, you gasp his name, barely able to breathe. “Come on my cock,” he commands, licking the start of your spine. Arousal pours between your legs, slick trickling down his cock. “Show me how good you are—” 

You cry out as your orgasm crashes over you, your walls clenching around him. Your breathing is caught in your throat. You roll your hips desperately, begging him to fuck you harder, god deeper—he does. He hammers into you, groaning over and over about how much of a good girl you are. His praise short circuits your brain and another orgasm washes over you, softer this time, but still powerful, enough to have you dripping over the seats. 

Javier continues to thrust into you, chasing his own release. With one final deep thrust, he spills himself inside you, his body shuddering. He grinds his hips, pushing himself deeper until he’s dripping from where he stretches you. You moan his name, your lips moving against the leather. 

Both of you collapse onto the seats, panting heavily as you try to catch your breath. Javier hugs you tight and pulls you up until you’re draped over his chest. You feel pleasantly lifeless, your lids heavy. He strokes your damp hair, fingers grazing over your cheek, he kisses your forehead. The gesture makes your heart swell.

“Mi preciosa, eso fue increíble, fuiste increíble.”

His words were said heavily as if he was barely keeping himself from falling asleep. You smile, burrowing yourself into his neck, you focus on the sweetness of the fleeting moment and not the come dripping out from between your legs. 

“You were the one that was incredible,” you sigh happily. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt that good in my life.” 

“Let’s just say it was a team effort then,” he grins but his smile quickly falters. “How the hell am I supposed to drive now, I need a nap.” 

“We could. . .” 

He sighs, “Sadly, I have work I need to get to.” 

“You never did tell me what you did for a living,” you muse. “Care to share?” 

His grin is back, lips curling mischievously, he looks you up and down. Your body shudders at the heat of his gaze. 

“We were busy doing other things,” he quickly gives you a peck on the cheek and reaches for your dress. “I’ll tell you later.” 

You pout a bit but shrug it off quickly as you take your dress. To each his own. If he wants to keep his job a secret, that’s fine. You just met him after all. And you’ll probably never see him again after you reach Medellín. 

The thought sours your mood. Turns your stomach. You don’t want to think about that. You don’t want to think about the end. You always did get attached too easily. 

With a sigh, you put on your dress and watch as Javier slides back to the front. You still have a couple more hours with him, you might as well make the best of it. 

The ride had been a pleasant one. You’re pretty sure you talked the poor man’s ear off but he talked a bunch too, telling you about his father, his hobbies—which weren’t a lot—and his dislikes about the city. You had listened with rapt attention, eating up every last detail. But still, you had no idea what he did for a living and refused to ask, not wanting to pry. 

Almost at Medellín, you notice a checkpoint ahead. Your eyes narrow for a better look and groan, these guys meant business, especially when cartels were on the rise. No matter how many times you batted your eyes, you know your bag is going to get checked along with Javier’s belongings. 

“Oh no,” you mutter, prompting Javier’s eyes to shift from the highway to you. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“I still have a couple of joints in my bag. If they search it I’m toast. They won’t let me go back.” 

You’re not sure why but he smiles, did he know the checkpoint would be here? Your heart drops and stomach lurches. 

“You’ll be fine,” he says, then he winks for good measure. “Trust me, querida. You won’t get into trouble.” 

You have your doubts but nod and lean back anyway. The car slows down as you approach the checkpoint, and you can feel the tension building up inside you. Javier pulls the car to a stop, and a stern-looking man walks up to Javier. The officer’s gaze lingers on you before turning to Javier. 

“Documentos e identificación.” 

“Hola,” he greets along with a short nod. “Soy Javier Peña, de la DEA. Estamos de paso.”

Your eyes grow wide when Javier shows his badge to the officer, your jaw nearly drops, blood rushing to your ears. You desperately have the urge to shake your head and yank the badge out of the officer’s hands to inspect it yourself. To feel it under your fingers. 

The officer nods and motions to the others to let you through, “Adelante, buen viaje.”

The car starts to move again and finally—finally, you allow your jaw to drop. 

“You’re DEA?” you ask, upper body rising up from your seat, your tone shrill. Javier doesn’t say anything but he does nod, eyes never leaving the road. “Oh my god,” you say. “Oh my god—why. . why didn’t you tell me? I—I smoked weed in your car! You could’ve arrested me at any given point—I. . . I—” I fucked a DEA agent. 

You drop back down, defeated. 

“You don’t need to worry about me arresting you,” he answers, smiling. “I would’ve if you were a threat but. . . I think we established that you aren’t.” 

“A bunch of criminals fuck with agents you know,” you snap, weirdly offended. “Just because we did it doesn’t mean I’m not dangerous.” 

“Do you want me to arrest you, hermosa?” 

Cuffs do sound tempting but you aren’t playing that game right now, “No. . .” 

“Good, we’re on the same page then,” he drums his thumbs against the steering wheel. “My intention wasn’t to trick you or anything. You already seemed miserable under the rain, waiting for that long. I didn’t want to stress you further. And you can’t really blame me for thinking like that when the second sentence you said was ‘do you want a joint’ you would’ve freaked out. Am I wrong?” 

“No,” you say, clearer this time. “I still feel embarrassed though.” 

“You’ll live.” Finally entering the city, he turns to you, meeting your gaze. It’s a bit ill-advised since he’s driving but you appreciate having his full attention. “Where should I drop you off?” 

Oh. 

“I. . actually don’t know. Do you know any good places to stay? A room I can book on short notice?” 

“You don’t have a place to stay?” 

“I’m a girl who was hitchhiking through a country I don’t know. Do I look like someone with a plan?” 

“Fair enough,” he says, eyes turning back to the road. “Well, this is going to sound weird but you can stay with me if you want to.” Before you can answer, he adds. “I have a spare room.”

Saying yes is easier than you thought. 

[katsheadinclouds]

Romance

Javier Peña x f!reader

summary: The night is always easier for Javier when he's with you, even if it means thinking about the possibility of ending up alone. Maybe this time he's done running away from happiness.

warnings: secret relationship, smutty happenings and thoughts, mild angst, smoking, mention of drinking, hopeful ending, no pronouns for reader, no use of y/n, reader is a blank canvas. Not beta read! If I forgot something, please let me know.

word count: 2.4k

notes: The happiest of birthdays to Jo, undercoverpena 💛💛💛 I hope you've had the most amazing time celebrating and I'm wishing you the best on this new trip around the sun. You've written one of my favorite fics ever and to be on this platform and reading the art that you share has been a massive privilege. Thank you for making this fandom feel safe. You gave me this lovely tan color called desert sands as my chosen shade on your birthday bash roulette and my mind went immediately to our man Javier and one of the shirts he wears. I hope you, and anyone else who might read this, enjoy your time with this fic.

dividers by saradika

In the night, Javier stands by the open window. The sounds from the street come in through it, an ambulance and police cars with their sirens blaring make his heart thump uncomfortably in his chest. The cigarette between his fingers smolders bright, the smoke burns in his lungs, yet he relies on it like nothing else could understand him fully.

He’s pouring his stress into it. The already aching muscles irritated from chasing after people who Javier knows are always two steps ahead of them and their efforts to stop the violence. His gun in its holster, unceremoniously laying on the floor, is a reminder of the violence he’s feeding into. What other option does he have? Anything and everything they do, he does, never seems to be enough.

You stir in your sleep. Javier’s tan shirt is resting on your shoulders. It doesn’t cover your bare skin below your hips. Javier pulls another breath of smoke into his lungs, and then one more, while watching your slumber. Your back rises and falls in a slow rhythm, peaceful, far away from the stress and adrenaline you both carry at work every day.

You shouldn’t have asked him to come home with you that one evening a few months ago after a night out at a bar. You shouldn’t have gotten the courage to make a move. You shouldn’t have wrapped your lips around the cigarette he was smoking, still between his fingers, your eyes glued to his when you thanked him for sharing his smoke.

You shouldn’t have touched his thigh under the table with your hand, shown him what you wanted from him. And you certainly shouldn’t have wrapped your lips around him, kneeling on your bedroom floor, your eyes adoring every inch of him. Your hands on him. His hands in your hair, unable to resist your advantages.

You act like nothing ever happens between the two of you outside of work. You wish him and Steve good morning when you see each other in passing. You ask if they got one of the hundreds of memos they receive every day. You wish them a good night at the end of the workday, ready to go home after endless hours in the stuffy office. You’re always around, but you keep your distance.

“I’m being professional,” you said after that hours long fuck fest fueled by stress in the safety of your bedroom. “We’re colleagues. Nothing is going to change.”

Yet everything has changed. Javier comes to visit every night after work when he’s in the city. You open the door for him without questions, you don’t even ask him to come around anymore. It’s an unsaid agreement at this point.

He knocks once, then two times fast, and finishes with one more knock to let you know that it’s him, no one else. You don’t ask who it is, you don’t hesitate to open the door. You just do and let him slip in, your hand always catching his to stop him from escaping from your reach.

The kiss to welcome him in is gentle, a single touch of your lips against his. You offer him a drink, the thick rimmed tumblers always available next to the amber colored whiskey. It’s also an unsaid agreement that he’s there only to have sex. Nothing more. You don’t deny him, you never tell him to stop, you only want more, and you always give more.

“I would let you do whatever you wanted to me. I would let you have me in any way you want,” you said in the afterglow of your release. Your pupils were blown black, and your breath was still out of your reach. Your legs trembled when you tried to get off his lap, off him.

Javier’s hands squeezed your thighs, either to steady you or to keep you deeply seated on his cock for a while longer. It was well past the hours of the early morning; your alarm was going to go off soon. You would curse at him for coming by after midnight, but you would still open the door for him the next time when he got to yours as late, or even later.

“In any way, hm?”

“Whatever you like,” you hugged yourself around him, your knees against his ribs, and he was screwed.

Javier wanted to believe that the words set all his nerve endings on fire because you were still stuffed full of him. That because you spread yourself open for him every time he came around, the words only had a physical meaning.

You absorbed the nausea he had in the pit of his stomach, somehow mixed with the anticipation of having you at the end of the day. You were someone he learned to trust. He could always come to yours no matter what. He could always rely on you to catch him. You always opened the door, and you never denied him access to you.

The offer was too tempting. Javier tipped you on the bed and kept himself lodged inside of you. Your limbs were weak and pliant. You closed your eyes when he ran his hands down your sides, admiring your figure, the curves where his hands fit perfectly on your waist. You emptied your lungs when he pulled out of you, spilling your mixed releases on your sheets.  

You inhaled the heavy air of your bedroom in preparation. One last breath before he’d pin you under himself. Before his lips attached to your sternum.

Tasting you was like coming home. Feeling you squirm under him in anticipation was exciting. Hearing you whine his name was intoxicating. He didn’t need drugs. He had you.

You came on his tongue buried deep in your folds, sucking, playing with you, taking you to the edge over and over until Javier decided when you had had enough. Your thighs were glued to his shoulders, your heels against his shoulder blades. You ground against his mouth, your hands holding onto his hair, pulling him in, and pulling him off you at the same time. Even when the pleasure crossed the line of too much, you still stayed put and lost your breath with another high as his moustache gathered the slick from you like he was saving it for later.

“You shouldn’t say that.” Javier muttered when you got out of the shower. He was sprawled with his legs out on your bed, watching you. You had outrun the moon without a moment of true rest, and the sun had caught up to you, ending the night with its first rays.

Your legs were unstable still and you couldn’t balance on your other foot when you pulled a fresh pair of panties on. You leaned against your vanity and stumbled through dressing yourself.

“I meant it.” When the door closed after you, leaving him to sleep in your bed, the words sunk in. He wasn’t just screwed. He was ruthlessly in over his head.

Javier had already risked it all for desire, but risking opening up was another thing completely. You observed him in ways he wasn’t aware of. You saw him in ways that others didn’t, in the safety of your bed, in his most vulnerable, in his most rageful.

You saw his quietness in the tenderness he showed you. You took it all out of him, one kiss at a time, forcing him to breathe and put the pressure to the side for an hour or few. You took him apart in ways that made him comfortable in his skin, but uncomfortable in ways that you adored him. With your eyes, with your words, with your gentle hands as you undressed him and showed him slowness.

When your hands pulled off his body and left him needing, you gave Javier all the control. He could feel the goosebumps against your heated skin, caress the pebbles of your nipples and hear your shaking inhales and exhales.

His lips on your stomach, on the sensitivity of your inner thighs, smell you dripping against your panties and touch you in the most lewd ways you probably ever had allowed anyone to touch. Your gasps and moans vibrated in his spine and made him painfully hard. Every time, without a question, you edged him without doing it intentionally.

And in the night, Javier could take you slow, take you apart one push of his hips at a time. One moan at a time. One run of your wet lips against his jaw and neck at a time until your kisses would only be little gasps as your high rushed him to reach his release soon after you.  

And he could take you hard, borderline ferociously, your hands trying to hold onto him, your nails scratching against his back until imprints of small half moons would litter his shoulder blades and the back of his neck. He would have them for days, and he would do it again, just to have his skin remember your cries of pleasure that he forced down his own throat to not let you wake up the neighbors.

It was impossible for Javier to stop it. Stop you from wanting him, stop himself from letting you. He watched you act like it didn’t mean anything, like it was just the two of you looking for a release. He heard your promise of this not changing anything over and over again in his head but saw that you had changed in every way possible after letting him in your bed.

“Tell me something about yourself,” you once asked while playing with a curl on his forehead and cracked your own promise into pieces.

“What’s there to tell,” he answered, and you dropped the topic immediately. The disappointment radiated off you in waves, but you hid it in licking your tongue against his, not caring about the friction of his moustache against your upper lip.

His intentions were never cruel, not to you, or to himself. Yet he was like a monster, coming back to you without you asking him to. To himself for letting him knock that pattern on your door.

You sigh in your sleep. Javier stumps the burned cigarette into a bowl and closes the window. Your naked leg is warm with his fingers gliding up against it, the back of your knee still damp from staying with your cheek pressed against the mattress, available for him on your knees for as long as he wanted.

He tilts his head the higher his hand rises. Your skin bursts with shivers when his fingers caress the roundness of your thigh and dips between them. He drags his hand against the crease under your ass, the meatiness of the muscle as his hand continues its exploration of your body, the curve of your hip, and under his shirt.

It’s easy to peel off you. Javier’s sweat still clings to it from the day. Your sweat clings to it from the night. He’s not sure when you had put it on. He only woke up to see you covered in it. He reveals the softness of your stomach, the shape of your waist, the underside of your breast. He draws a line with his thumb there.

Your eyes are open, watching him. Your face is half crumbled against your pillow, the worn out linen of your pillowcase. You’re somewhere between dream and wakefulness.

“Come back to sleep,” you whisper, your throat thick with sleep and the remnants of him. Javier moves the shirt off your shoulder to press his lips there. You sigh, relax against his mouth and move enough to give him space to follow you to the easiness of rest. Your hand follows the scrapes from your nails that are still fresh and tender. Your cold fingers look for the warmth of his skin, the burn you left there.

“What’s on your mind?” You ask, already slipping away from him in his arms. You’re pulling him under with you, the sleep in your scent intoxicating. You lean in a little closer until you’re glued against him. Javier would want to push you away if you knew what he was thinking.

The hope of a future. He has it in his arms.

It would be the easier choice to let you go. When this is all over, when this terror is done, it would be easiest to end this. You don’t deserve the pain he has convinced he always causes.

Yet underneath there’s a promise of the other side. He’d take you out. He wouldn’t let this relationship stay hidden inside the four walls of your bedroom anymore. His imagination runs rampant with the images of himself in public with you.

To see you smile under the sun, with your hand in his with people around. Your voice in his ear when you tell him about everything and nothing, not just you sighing out his name in the dead of night. He would’ve never guessed ending up in Colombia also meant meeting you. Meeting the possibility of a next day that isn’t full of violence and loneliness.  

“You,” Javier breathes into your hair. The slow rhythm under his palm against your ribcage is proof enough that you’re not listening.

He would tell you who he is eventually. He’ll answer who he was before all this, before you stepped into his life and turned it upside down. He’ll let you see him in daylight, not only in the moonlight that smooths out all the edges, regrets and flaws. He’ll let you in on the good and the ugly, the person he, too, sometimes wants to turn his back to.

He’ll tell you about how he grew up too quick, too sorrowful, missing the family he didn’t have anymore. It’s just him, his dad and the house he once called home. Now it’s filled with stories he cherishes in the silence of his own memory.

Javier will forgive himself eventually. For thinking the worst of himself, for needing you to get away from him. He’ll keep on pretending though, with you, that nothing has changed. And this is just a mutual contract of desire.

“I want you to know,” he says into the glowing orange of your bedroom without any sound, the move of his mouth registering in the muscles of his face. He lets the weight of your body drag him over the border of sleep, melt against you and taste the sweetness of bliss.

[almostfoxglove]

pedro pascal cinematic universe aus 21/?

the one where javier peña lures souls into the sea. (insp)

[lokischocolatefountain]

Holdout || Fraternize

Congressman!Javier Peña AU

Fandom: Narcos

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: smut, fingering, arguments, period typical misogyny, American politics, inappropriate workplace behavior, office sex, kinda fem!dom, discussions of healthcare policy, inaccuracies regarding American politics

Word count: 4.5k

Summary: Sometimes it was better to talk face to face than to send his lackeys to speak for him. And who knows? Maybe he’ll get a sweet deal out of it. If nothing else, she was at least a good time.

A/N: I know Javi has nothing but disdain for politics and politicians. He would’ve pushed those DC guys out of the helicopter in season 3 if they’d asked more stupid questions. But it’s the same season 3 Javi who put in all those suits and ties and combed his hair neatly and walked around looking like a WHORE. So it’s actually his fault that I’m writing him as a politician. As usual, give your girl some comments and reblogs 🥹🥹🥹

Tagging: @art-estrange

“How many holdouts, Donna?”

“Thirteen.”

“Fuck,” he whispered, knowing instantly from the number which faction of congresspeople had refused to agree to vote for the bill. He also knew who the ringleader of this group of thirteen was. Without her approval, the other twelve wouldn’t even breathe let alone vote yes. An abstinence, maybe. But a yes? Impossible. She was also one of the few who could reach across the aisle to get them the votes he and Murphy needed to pass the bill in Congress.

“What exactly does she want?”

“Bunch of stuff,” said Donna, flipping open the binder that contained the draft of the Child Health Assistance Program bill. From his seat, Javier could see the color coded remarks that decorated the pages. Only when it went to her office did it come back with the fucking rainbow splattered in the pages. When he was a freshman to congress, the outgoing congressman from his district had warned him about her.

Difficult. Nerdy. Pretentious. A fucking bitch. An absolute cunt.

He would never say the last two things about her, of course. If he so much as thought them, his mama would fly to DC and slap him.

“The premium increase on Medicaid for one. She thinks it’s too much. Did some math on the side, too,” she said, unfolding a sticky note that contained some scribbled out numbers. “She accounted for the average household income nationally and in her district and adjusted for projected inflation and arrived at an increase by 3% on the financial burden on families. She made a calculation for our district, too. And by Stoddard’s calculations, her estimate is accurate.”

“Right, right,” he said, taking a puff of his cigarette and blowing the smoke out towards the open window. “Has anyone told her that healthcare expenses have increased and we cannot afford to keep the Part B premiums at forty four fucking dollars?”

His staffer simply shrugged before beginning to explain all the other demands the congresswoman from West Virginia had. By the time they were through with the major issues, it was time for lunch.

“Try to get Barrett and Kilpatrick on board,” he said, getting up from his seat at the head of the table. He heard her grumble, but didn’t take it too personally. It would be easier to move a boulder up a hill than to convince anyone in the congresswoman’s faction to vote for something she didn’t vote for. He pressed the stub harder into his glass ashtray, his anger towards her manifesting in the present she got him.

“Yes, sir,” she said, marking the page they’d last discussed. His staffers shuffled out of their seats and out of the office, leaving him with just Donna.

“I hear she’s back in the building. Returned from her district last night. Maybe you can convince her?” She said expectantly. Out of all the people in his office, she was the only one who knew that he had a shot. No matter how narrow the possibilities. Fair’s fair, he thought. Since he tasked her with talking to Kilpatrick and Barrett.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “No harm in trying.” He would’ve laughed had someone else said that. There definitely was harm in trying. His sanity was at stake. He had a hard enough time just seeing her at the committee meetings. But if he couldn’t get members of his own party on board, he could bid goodbye to the dream of passing the bill.

He picked up the binder and sped through the hallways to her office, anxious she might leave for lunch. She usually didn’t, but made exceptions for when she met with her campaign team. Something about it being unethical to do campaign business in facilities paid for by the taxpayer. And illegal. Like him, she was a workaholic. If she wasn’t in her office, she was in her congressional district.

He stopped outside the double doors to her office, American flags on either side and a nameplate with her name and state written in gold. Right as he rose his fist to knock for courtesy’s sake, the door opened and a lanky young boy stepped out of her office, sandwich in hand. Intern.

“Is the congresswoman in?” He asked, making the boy jump back in surprise.

“Uhh…” the boy trailed, looking back at the door with wide eyes. So she was in. And the kid didn’t know whether he was one of the people to whom he should lie about his boss’ availability.

“She’s…busy?”

Javi snorted before putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder and gently nudging him away from the door. “Enjoy lunch, kid,” he said before slipping into her office. The boy said something in an effort to stop him, but the door thankfully muffled the sounds. He kicked the door with the deadbolt, eager to not get caught. Nothing interesting ever happened in congress. So the first wisp of smoke would be enough for gossips to start a fire. He walked past the front office with the plush couches for guests and right into the inside where the magic happened.

Sure enough, he found her hunched over her desk, punching numbers into a calculator with her left hand as her right scribbled them out on her notebook. The black high heeled shoes she wore pushed her ass out invitingly. His eyes trailed up the shoes, following the black lines of her stockings. He took a deep breath and turned away, his eyes landing on one of her staffers’ desks.

A carton box with sandwiches from the nearby cafeteria sat open, mostly empty but for three sandwiches wrapped in aluminum foil. He wasn’t planning on lunch, but he wouldn’t decline after seeing some perfectly good sandwiches laid out in front of him.

“Get your own, Peña,” came a cold, stern voice right as he touched one.

“I would, but you owe me sustenance for making me read through all your notes. I need more nutrients to keep up with your shit,” he said, unwrapping the foil. He took a bite, nodding appreciatively as the well seasoned meat and garlic mayonnaise touched his tongue.

She put her pen down and turned around to finally face him. She looked well put together as she always did. A navy blue pinstriped skirt that clung to her beautifully, matching the jacket draped over her chair. Her white blouse was tucked in, her hair up in a neat bun to show off her pearl earrings. She placed a hand on her hip, crossed one leg in front of the other and narrowed her eyes at him. “It’s not my fault that your diet of whiskey and cigarettes doesn’t nourish you enough to read some notes on your poorly drafted bill.”

“It’s called a draft for a reason, Glitter,” he scoffed, his lips curving up in a smirk as he used her nickname against her. He knew she hated it. He wasn’t even in congress for the origin of the nickname, but it took only days for him to learn that the Congresswoman from West Virginia had “accidentally” used a glitter pen to write notes on the final draft of a bill. Sure she changed the pen after she realized. Only one word was in the imbecilic ink, but the name stuck.

“I forgot that your standards are low.” She rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest. “What do you want now, Peña? Is it just the sandwich? I knew you had a tight budget over in the 23rd district of Texas, but I didn’t know the situation was so dire even the congressman had to mooch off someone else.”

“I already paid for it. With my soul.” He took another bite of the sandwich, unaffected by her jabs. As he chewed on his free lunch, he slapped a hand on the binder he abandoned on a staffer’s desk.

“We need to discuss your ridiculous demands.”

“I don’t see how asking to restore coverage for disabled children counts as ridiculous.” She leaned back against her desk and placed her palms flat against the surface. “Unless you hate children. Disabled children.”

“You’ve been in D.C. too long,” he said, annoyed by her spin. “And it’s not like I slashed the funding for disabled kids. They did. Don’t fight me for shit I didn’t do. And it’s not like they would’ve changed their minds by now. None of them have grown a conscience all of a sudden. They’ll just laugh us out of their office.”

“Peña, are you proposing the child health program for the children or the fucking pricks in the House who think it’s a waste of money to invest in healthcare?”

“To invest in healthcare, we need to get the bill passed. Would you rather get some coverage for kids or none?”

“Obviously, I would like some. But some or none aren’t the only options. If you’re going to cut out necessary things preemptively, we’ll get even less than what we need by the time we’re done negotiating with them.”

He darted his tongue out, licking his lips as he considered her words. They did not differ much ideologically. He too was an idealist like her. The people of his district voted him in for his ideals, for his promises. But D.C. had a way of making cynics out of optimists. It was easier for her to remain an idealist. There was no real threat to her seat.

“We don’t have an unlimited budget. It’s going to be a pain in the fucking ass trying to get this through. I put the shit you’re asking for and we can forget getting any coverage. Just like your demand to expand benefits for low income folks. If we do what you’re suggesting, it’ll be an expenditure of 3 Billion dollars over five years instead of the 1.5 billion we have available.”

She sighed and leapt up, sitting herself down on her desk. “Listen, Peña. I know you’re holding on to your seat by a thread because your margin of victory was thinner than said thread. You need to schmooze the conservatives back in Webb County. But I refuse to pay with the health of my people so you can keep your job.”

He fist clenched at the accusation and he let out a grunt. “Easy for you to say. Your district would vote for a fucking donkey if it had our party’s name slapped on it.”

It wasn’t so easy for him. Every move he made was like walking a tightrope between doing the right thing and what his constituents thought politically correct. One wrong move and they’d be out there on CNN calling him a fucking commie. Not that it bothered him. It just wasn’t good optics.

She held her pen up like it was a sword, like a threat. “They’ve tried to primary me multiple times, asshole. Never worked. I do the work and people vote me in for it.

“Listen. You wanna talk shit or actually work on this thing so we can get it passed?”

“I did my part, Peña. Thought you read through it since you’re claiming to be so exhausted.”

“It’s not gonna work sending it back and forth. Never does. We need to sit together and sort it out.”

“Right…” she drawled, her pink painted lips curling up in a smirk and her eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint. He huffed, knowing immediately what she was smirking about. He licked his lips and let himself think of what they did the last time they decided they would sit together and ‘sort it out’.

“You know I didn’t mean that,” he said, the words tasting bitter on his lips. He didn’t mean that. But he would never refuse an opportunity to do it again.

“Oh?” She teased, an eyebrow raised.

A carefully manicured fingernail dazzled under the light as she used her pointer finger to beckon him forward. He stepped towards her, his feet moving automatically like his cock remembered how he would be rewarded if he complied with her. Eyes connected to hers, he imagined what she looked like under her suit. If he would be able to catch even a glimpse of her body this time. If he would have to reach under her skirt, rip her stockings and push her panties aside to fuck her.

He loved knocking the smirk off her lips the last time, just the sight of her pliant against his chest giving him all the satisfaction he needed even before he came. She wasn’t arguing then. Just sweet little whimpers as she clutched onto his shirt and begged for release.

Just as he could deal with the smirk by reaching her and capturing her lips in a kiss, she lifted her high heel clad foot and placed it on his pants. Over his fucking cock to be exact. He raised his eyebrows at her, confused by her move. She put a gentle pressure on his cock with her foot, making him swallow.

“The fuck are you playing at, Glitter?”

“Nothing,” she drawled in a low, seductive voice. “Just testing if you have a foot thing.”

He huffed and rolled his eyes. “I don’t fucking have a foot thing.”

“Yeah? Must be an ass thing then,” she said, lifting her leg higher and caressing his face with the top of her shoes. “Maybe it’s a shoe thing…” His breaths got quicker and his heart beat faster, his body enticed by her daring when she was usually quite conservative and no-nonsense. “You didn’t want me to take my shoes off last time. It was fucking uncomfortable. I know you like how my ass looks when I wear these.”

She trailed the pointy end of the heel down his neck, just barely touching his skin, driving him mad with want for more. The hairs on his body stood to attention and his cock twitched in his pants. She hooked the heel under his tie and pulled. When it budged only a little, he tugged on it himself, taking the thing off completely and stuffing it into his pocket.

Before she could retreat, he caught her leg. Hand wrapped around her ankle he placed a kiss above the strap of her shoes. He looked up at her, relishing in watching her confidence chip away bit by bit as he left a trail of kisses up her leg. A silent gasp left her lips as he stopped at the edge of her desk and put her leg over his shoulder.

“You up for a meeting? To discuss,” he said, tilting her head up with a finger to her chin.

A soft smile played on her lips as she said, “We’ll see…”

“Yeah? What exactly do I have to do to get you in my office, Congresswoman?”

“Convince me. Give me something I’d want.”

“Everything’s a quid pro quo to you, isn’t it?”

“Such is politics, Peña.”

“If you say so,” he said, leaning close and kissing her neck right above the collar of her blouse. He felt her swallow, making him smile against her neck. The perfume he knew she spritzed on her neck seduced his senses and he licked her skin in a quest for his other senses to experience her delicious scent.

“Javier… Someone could come in at any time.”

Javier… It was always Peña for her. Except when they fucked. Then it was Javier, Javier, oh fuck please, harder! Once she fixed herself post fuck, it was back to Peña with a tinge of disdain. Like some crude separation of church and state.

“Everyone else knocks. I’m the only one who drops by without announcing myself,” he spoke into her skin, his voice a low drawl. “And I locked the door. Because I know you can’t resist me.” She snorted, but relaxed beneath his touch. Her hand came up to his hair, touching him oh so lightly in a way that she wouldn’t mess it up too much.

“Fucking caveman,” she chided, her voice too warm for him to believe she opposed his behavior. He trailed a hand up her skirt, stopping where her thighs met. He cupped her pussy, his eyes fixed on her face to read signs of displeasure.

“Congresswoman, I just kissed up your leg like you’re a delicate fucking princess. A caveman would rip your clothes up, hold you down and fuck you hard,” he said, feeling proud of himself when he felt her pussy react to it under his hand.

“Guess you have a caveman thing,” he mocked, leaving her no time to respond before grabbing her stockings and ripping it in his hand. She shrieked and grabbed on to his shoulders to steady herself.

“That’s the second pair you’ve ruined, asshole.”

“I wouldn’t have to ruin your stockings if you just took your clothes off and bent over the desk.”

“Oh fuck you,” she laughed, letting out a little whimper when he pushed her panties aside and found her clit.

“I will, Congresswoman,” he said in a soft voice as he rolled her nub under his thumb. Her hand traversed his back, feeling the fabric of his suit and making him wish they had the time and privacy for him to take his clothes off. Feel her bare hand on his back and let her leave scratches as he took his time to get her across the finish line.

“You address everyone by their designation when you fuck them, Javier?” She rocked up against him, her chest flush against his as she searched for her pleasure under his thumb.

It felt so fucking good though she wasn’t doing anything to him, to have his mouthy, disagreeable colleague in the palm of his hand. To play her like an instrument. Have her spinning in her head for a second longer before her snarky retorts left her lips.

“No, just the infuriating, fuckable Congresswomen,” he joked, getting a shove to his chest. He didn’t budge, having prepared himself for the attack since he anticipated it.

“You tease all the men you fuck in your office with your shoe?”

“No, only the ugly ones,” she said, laughing. He smiled, happy with her giving it to him as good as she got. They were close, so close he could feel her warm breath against his skin.

“Asshole,” he whispered against her lips before closing the gap between them. She looped one arm around his neck and allowed her other hand to play with his suit lapel. Her lips were soft, contrasting the sharp words they often spoke to him. A sense of calm settled in his chest as she slipped her hand under his jacket. He felt her hand now, caressing him up and down, making him long to know what she would feel like against his skin.

Spurred by the thought, his hand rubbed her more enthusiastically. She whimpered into the kiss and he took the chance to slip his tongue between her lips. Her hand traveled up his shirt and clutched his collar, her thumb slipping under his shirt and touching his neck. He moaned and quickly felt her smirk against his lips.

Unwilling to give her the upper hand, he grabbed her panties and tugged, making the frail fabric rip in his hand.

“What the fuck, Javier!?”

“Shh…”

Unobstructed by her panties, he was free to let his hand do two things at once. He parted her pussy lips and pushed a finger inside her, her warm wetness inviting him in easily. He added another finger and coated himself in her slick.

She gasped as he returned his thumb to her clit, making him smile smugly. He pulled away so she could see him. So she could see the power he wielded over her.

“You’re much nicer like this, Congresswoman.”

“And you are more of a dickhead somehow,” she said, grabbing his cock through his pants. When she began stroking his length, he drew a sharp breath.

“Why wouldn’t I? You get wetter when I’m a dick to you. You get like this when we’re talking business too?”

“Of course not, assface.” She gritted her teeth and grabbed him harder, making him grunt.

“Maybe I should check the next time we’re yelling at each other in the middle of the hallway. Reach under your skirt and find your wet panties.”

Her grip on him got harder and her eyes narrowed at him, but her pussy clenched around his fingers. “See, you like it.”

“You’ll see what I like and don’t like when I break your little prick, Peña.”

“Thought I was Javier when I’m fucking you.”

“You thought wrong,” she said, squeezing his cock again.

He yelped, the pressure getting too much even through his pants.

“Fuck!”

“Yeah. Fuck,” she snarked, releasing him only to snake around to his behind and grab a cheek.

“Get it done quick. Unlike you, I have things to do after this.”

“Oh yeah? Maybe I should go now. Can’t keep the Congresswoman from doing the best for her constituents,” he mocked, pulling away from her.

She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him back, trapping him in place with them. “Finish the fucking job,” she spoke, a serious expression overtaking her features.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said, keeping up the pace of his thrust. He found her neck with his lips, placing sweet kisses on her skin. So close to her, he could feel the effect of every touch, every kiss. He locked the responses in his mind, ready to use the information for the next time he found himself with his hand up her skirt.

“The other side, Javier…” she breathed her command and he followed, eliciting a moan from her.

“Just like that… Keep going.” She thrusted back into his fingers, taking her pleasure from him eagerly. Every now and then, she issued a new command. When he obeyed, she rewarded him with sweet sounds of her pleasure.

As he brought her closer, she gripped his fingers tighter. Her eyes glazed over and she stopped giving instructions, only enjoying the fruits of his compliance with her earlier ones. She leaned against his shoulder, placing some of her weight on him. Being the sucker he was for beautiful women in the throes of pleasure, he placed a kiss on her head and cradled the back of her neck with his free hand.

“Come on, come for me…” he said softly when he felt her at the edge of the precipice.

“F-fucking make me, fucker,” she cursed, mewling when he changed the angle of his fingers to add a twist to his touches.

“Will you give me a meeting in exchange then? We could work it over together…” he negotiated with no shame whatsoever. It was a shameless business, politics.

She opened and closed her mouth several times, unable to let out anything other than a breath as he assaulted her senses mercilessly. She shook her head in denial, making him smile at her defiance.

She panted as he wore her out, her chest heaving and her eyes rolled back. The hand gripping his lapel grew weak and she went limp against him. With a low moan, she came around his fingers and collapsed against him. He kept his fingers inside her, not having the heart to kiss out on how her pussy spasmed around them as she recovered from the high he brought her.

She lifted her head off his chest and dropped her legs, freeing him from her prison.

“You’re not getting a meeting in exchange for fingering me, Peña.”

“What does a man have to do then? Fuck you in the ass? Cause I’ll do it,” he said, laughing when she shoved at his chest weakly. He pulled out finally and took a step back before grabbing his handkerchief and wiping his fingers clean of her release. She hopped off her desk and pulled out her handkerchief from her purse. She unfolded the white cloth embroidered with flowers and leaves and dipped a corner in her glass of water.

He raised an eyebrow at her when she turned back around to offer it to him.

“You have lipstick on your face.”

“Ah.”

“Where?” He asked, accepting the cloth from her.

“Right there. On your neck,” she said, pointing vaguely at his neck. He swiped where he guessed the lipstick mark was and looked up at her, asking silently if he got it.

She shook her head and reached back into her purse. She offered him a black circular box- a makeup thing he knew had a mirror in it.

“Thanks,” he said and pried it open.

“Who are you expecting to vote for this from the other side?” She asked as she adjusted her clothes and reapplied her lipstick. He wiped off the traces of her from his neck and lips. He closed the box, careful not to spill the powder inside.

“Hayworth, Calvert, Cunningham, Doolittle. Rohrabacher would do it, but it’ll require a lot of negotiation. Chenoweth would find the bill agreeable, but it’s unlikely that she’ll vote for it,” he said, a little disappointed that she was talking business even though that was why he came over.

“Yeah. She has a poor record on bipartisanship. Is Evans on board? Cause he’s pretty close to Porter and he can convince him to come aboard.”

“I think he will. Stoddard is talking to Evans’ people and it seems he’s content.”

“Alright,” she said, nodding. “I don’t have time for this shit, but it needs to be done. Surely your buddy on the other side can convince a lot more people to sign on. If he isn’t confident, there’s no point in us discussing this further.”

“Murphy’s got a list. He’s still in talks with them.”

“He’s still in talks? Motherfucker, why did you waste my time then? Could’ve waited for his chipped down draft before you sent a copy to my office.”

Because as much as I fucking hate you, I respect your intelligence. I respect that DC’s cynicism hasn’t turned you away from your ideologies.

But that wasn’t what he said. That wasn’t how this partnership worked. Political alliance didn’t equal friendship. Hell, Murphy wasn’t his political ally. He was on the other side. Yet they were friends.

“Mhmm. I had it sent to you so early on ‘cause I know you’re the hardest to please.”

“Well,” she said, mischief playing at the corners of her lips. She walked behind her desk and sat back down. “You pleased me okay today. I could do without all the yapping building up to the act, though. Really sucks the fun out of it, hearing your stupid voice.”

“Asshole,” he mumbled, as he pocketed her handkerchief and retrieved his tie. She laughed, the sound eliciting a smile from him. He pressed his lips into a thin line as he busied himself tying his tie, loath to have her see him enjoy something so trivial.

“I’ll see you at the committee meeting then,” he said when he got his tie back on.

“Yeah, see you there to watch them slash programs so they can give tax cuts to their buddies.”

He snorted, agreeing with her. It drained him to sit in on the budget committee meetings. It was a high honor when he got assigned to such an important committee. Felt like a pat on the back for his hard work. Until he had to do the hard work of arguing against the fucking worst suggestions futilely. Nothing fucking mattered when they didn’t have majority. Yet, he argued. So did she.

“Pass me a sandwich on your way out, Peña.”

He picked one of the two remaining sandwiches. “Here you go,” he said, making a throwing motion without tossing it. She reacted, throwing her hands up in the air to catch a sandwich that never came.

“Asshole,” she cursed, picking up her paperweight. Before she could throw it at him, he skipped away, another free sandwich in hand. As he closed the door to her office, he could’ve sworn he heard her giggle.

.

.

.

Main Masterlist

Guys, I’m so excited about how fun this could be. Javi in his suits. Angry Javi. Javi taking his tie off like in that one Narcos episode from season 3. Javi and reader having clandestine meetings under the guise of work. Maybe a sex scandal? Who know… Let me know what you think of Congressman!Javi and Congresswoman!Reader.

[jolapeno]

let us pretend chapter 5 - good as new

javier peña x f!reader*

chapter summary: Being fake married is hard, especially as Peña discovers he can't keep his eyes off his "wife" and his "wife" can't seem to stop torturing him. *reader has nickname sunny for undercover purposes.

READ ON AO3

sundays are for undercover peña... hahahah. dedicated to @thundermartini who without their love, this fic might not have continued to be posted.

[thetriumphantpanda]

i only wanna worship you | javier peña

Take The Weight Off His Shoulders - Chapter Seven

Chapter Summary | When a promising lead for your story turns to dust, you find comfort in the only person you know can make you feel better these days.

Chapter Warnings | mentions and discussions of drugs, drug consumption and the drug trade, swearing, flirting, explicit smut, oral sex (f), protected piv sex but nothing else.

Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count | 4.4K

Authors Note | GUYS I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. Thank you so much for being so patient - my new job and the festive period kicked my ass, but we're back, and it's the one you've all been waiting for! I'm having so much fun weaving in the story along with these guys' relationship, and I hope it was worth the wait for you. If you're enjoying this then reblogs and comments really do help and if you’d like to support me further, please consider a donation to my Ko-Fi. 

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

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

You’ve been sat in the parking lot for what feels like ages. Turning up at the office that morning, you’d stared blankly at the article you’d written, listening to your managers voice in your head telling you that you could go and get your story, swirling the dregs of your coffee in your mug. It was almost like a switch had flicked in your brain and before your head could catch up with you, you were stuffing your supplies into your bag and swiping your car keys off the desk.

Now, your car is surrounded by others in the parking lot of Laredo’s biggest factory - one of the towns biggest employers of people who hadn’t gotten sick of it and left for college and never come back - waiting for Tyler Johnson to appear out of the front doors for his lunch break.

You watch the clock on your dashboard, counting exactly seventeen further minutes until his tall, lanky frame comes through the door. He’s fishing in his jeans pocket, pulling out a cigarette. He leans up against a brick wall just down from the front door, lighting the cigarette and taking a long drag. It’s now or never.

You get out of your car, deciding against taking your notepad and pen, you don’t want to spook him before you’ve had a chance to talk. You can feel the familiar nervous bubble in your stomach, something that hasn’t gone away when you blindly go up to someone to interrogate them.

“Tyler?”

He turns his head towards your voice as you come to a stop a few steps away from him.

“Depends who’s asking,” He looks you up and down, “But for you honey, sure thing,” He puts the cigarette into his mouth, reaches his hand out for you to shake which you do, “What can I help with?”

You take a deep breath, the speech you’d rehearsed in the car suddenly blanked from your mind as you try and figure out how to explain to him why you’re here.

“This is so strange, but can you remember hosting a party a few months ago?” You ask, “It was in town?”

You watch him think for a second, taking another drag on his cigarette, “Yeah I think so, was pretty wild if I remember, were you there?”

You reply with a nod, “Yeah, with my friend Liv,” You sigh, “Listen, I’m not trying to pry or anything, but you know that place was raided a few days ago, right?”

“Whole place knows it was raided,” He shrugs, “Been the talk of the town.”

“Right,” You’re thinking, how can you catch him in the act? “So, why were you hosting a party in a house that was empty, that was then raided for drugs?”

“Family own it,” He shrugs again, “Guy who rented it died and it needed doing up before we could get someone else in, so seemed like the best place to do it.”

“And the drugs?” You push.

“Listen, lady,” His tone sharpens but he doesn’t move towards you, you don’t feel threatened, “I haven’t got a clue as to why there were drugs there, okay? I haven’t been there since the party.”

“So you have no idea how they got there?”

“Not the faintest.”

“So it wasn’t you?”

“What the hell is this, twenty fucking questions?” He sighs again, flicks his finished cigarette to the ground, stamping on it with his boot, “I don’t know anything about the drugs, I’ve never taken drugs, I can’t even if I wanted to, we get tested here for them.”

“When was the last time you got tested?” You ask, eyebrows raised.

Tyler snorts at you, “You and everyone else in this fucking town are so predictable,” He shakes his head, “Just because I’m not a golden boy like my brother means I take drugs?” You’re about to open your mouth to reply when he started talking again, “I got tested about three weeks ago, and then probably six weeks before that too, clean as a whistle, always have been.”

“Do you have the test results?”

“You think I’m gonna show my drug test results to a random girl?”

You nod your head because it his trepidation makes sense, “I’m a journalist,” You finally let on, “I wrote a story about the drug bust but figured there was probably more to it than first meets the eye so I’m just digging around a little,” You shrug, “If you show me, it puts you in the clear though, means people’ll stop talking about you.”

Tyler rolls his eyes but starts walking towards a car. You follow behind him, waiting as he unlocks it and looks through the glove compartment, pulling out a couple of pieces of paper. He hands them to you, which you look through and just like he said, there are the result of his last three random drug tests, everything negative. Fuck. You try not to let your disappointment show as you hand them back.

“Sorry,” You mumble, “I’m just trying to get to the bottom of what’s going on here.”

“S’alright,” Tyler responds, putting everything back in order to lock his car back up, “I know how it is, but just…” He trails off, “Be careful, okay? I don’t know what’s happening either but this could be dangerous.”

“I’m a big girl,” You counter, “I’ll be fine,” You take a few steps back, “Sorry for bothering you though, I hope the rest of your day is alright.”

There is a part of you that would love nothing more than to roll over, push your face into your pillow and scream. When did having meltdowns like that become frowned upon? You’re sure when you were little they were cathartic, but what use was that at three years old? You needed to be able to scream at this age.

Instead, you lie on your bed, staring at the ceiling, frustrated that the one lead you had turned out to be a dead fucking end. Were you wrong about this whole thing the entire time? Were you barking up the wrong tree? Did you just need to cut your losses and publish the story as is, without needing to dig around further? You had no fucking clue.

Before you can think about what you’re doing, you reach over, pluck the phone off your nightstand and press the redial button. You don’t even need to tap in his number anymore, he’s the only number you really call these days. The phone rings three times before he picks up.

“Hello?”

“Javi?” You ask, although you don’t need to, you’d recognise that voice anywhere.

“You alright, cariño?” There is just a sigh that you let out in response, then his voice is back in your ear, “I’ve had enough bad days in my time to know that sigh, what happened?”

“I don’t know,” Is your response, you know you can’t tell him what’s really up because you know the deeper you dig into this, the more dangerous it’s going to get, “Just work stress.”

He’s silent for a moment, “What can I do? I can listen.”

“Can you come over?”

Even over the phone, you can hear him thinking it’s a bad idea. You can hear him thinking about how weird it will look if your parents find him in the house with you on your own, how you’d explain it, even if they didn’t necessarily catch you doing anything.

“They’re out at the moment,” You offer, “Dinner with some people on the force, and I won’t make you stay long, I promise.”

You can hear him do that thing he always does when he’s thinking - clicking his tongue against his teeth. He’s done it for as long as you can remember - a real tell that he’s battling with something in his head.

“I mean, you don’t have to,” You hasten to add, “We can just talk like this if you’d rather.”

“Need someone to make you feel better, huh?” His tone is lower now and it makes you squirm, all you can reply with is a small mmhmm sound, “I’ll be there soon.”

Then all you can hear is the dial tone. You lie there for a moment, listening to the sound through the phone, then glance around your room and panic. You slam the handset back onto the receiver and hop out of bed, dragging the sheets up to make the bed properly, aimlessly throwing abandoned clothes into the laundry basket, shoving half-read books back onto their shelves and generally tidying up enough so as to not look like a total slob.

Once you’re sure there’s nothing on display that you wouldn’t want Javi to see, you pace around the living room, drawing the curtains a little whenever you can see headlights bleeding through, until one set of those headlights are Javi’s truck. He pulls into the drive and sits there, before he’s reversing back out and driving off. Your heart sinks a little, until you can see his frame walking back up the street. You let the curtains fall back into place and stand by the front door, smoothing your hair and your clothes when he knocks twice. You don’t wait, just tear the door open.

“Waiting for me, huh?” He asks, stepping across the threshold, one hand slipping around your waist, the other letting the door close behind him.

“N-no, I was just by the door when you knocked.” You breath, so close to his mouth.

“That so?” He asks, eyebrow raised, “Someone else looking out the curtains then?”

He doesn’t give you the chance to answer. Instead, he dips his face to yours, lips pressed softly to yours. You can feel the aches and the stress leaving your body as he does, you bring your arms up to wrap around his shoulders, as Javi’s palm on your lower back presses you into his body fully.

“Y-you wanna m-maybe go upstairs?” You ask, lips still a hairs breadth from his, you don’t want to look at him whilst you ask.

“Is that what you want?” He asks, free hand cupping your cheek to make you look at him.

“I think so, yes.” You breathe.

“Well then, lead the way cariño.”

I don’t deserve this, is all Javi can think as your hand is clutched in his, leading him into your bedroom. He doesn’t deserve the flutter in his stomach when he looks at you, or the way your eyes look at him like he’s the best thing the world has ever offered you, and he certainly doesn’t deserve the opportunity to do what he thinks you’re going to let him do in the next few hours. All of the bad he’s done, veiled as something good, all of the shit he’s fucked up before, the people’s he’s hurt, the people he’s killed, whether at his own hand or as a knock on from his actions, he doesn’t deserve someone as good as you.

You’re stood at the door to your room, back pressed up against it, hands clasped behind your back as he stands in the middle of your room. He knows you’re nervous, you always are around him, and he wishes he could say something, express that he feels exactly the same around you, that you make him nervous too, but he thinks it would sound wrong if he tried to explain it, so he doesn’t, just holds out his hand and beckons you over to him.

The warmth of your hand slipping into his, the way he knows those hands feel when you touch him, the way your lips are soft when you kiss him, all of it makes him a weak man, a man who knows you need someone with less baggage, because he can’t say no to you, he doesn’t want to say no to you.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asks, manoeuvring the two of you so you’re sitting on the edge of your bed.

He watches as you shake your head, “No, it’s honestly nothing, it’ll be fine.”

“What do you want then?”

You lift your head, flash those beautiful eyes at him and instead of fighting the strength to stay upright, he takes a single step towards you and drops to his knees, settled on the floor with your thighs spread to accommodate him. He puts his hands on your knees, looking up at you, and spreads them a little wider.

“This what you want?” He asks, trailing his hands up to your thighs, pushing the hem of your dress up with his hands as he goes, “Something to take your mind off things for a while?”

“Y-yes,” You gasp when his hands hit the material of your underwear wrapped around your hips, “Yes please.”

Javi hooks his fingers into the band of your panties, watching as you lift yourself off the bed a little so he can pull them down. He’s slow with it, making sure that the hem of your dress keeps you covered as he can. It strikes him now how much he wants this, how much he’s craved the opportunity to get you like this so he can really hear you, really see you for once, without having to worry about getting caught.

“You wanna show me that pretty pussy, hermosa?” He speaks lowly into the skin of your thigh he’s nuzzling at.

He watches from between your thighs as your cheek drops to your shoulder, trying to hide how bashful you’ve become, but it does nothing to help the growing bulge in his jeans. Javi lets his fingers push the hem of your dress up your thighs, pooling at your waist, your legs widening.

Javi thinks he might audibly gasp at the way you’re already glistening for him. He leans forward, puckers his lips and presses a single kiss to your clit. It’s gentle, he revels in the small gasp you suck in, then he’s on your properly, tip of his tongue flicking gently against that little bud. He can feel your hand gripping at his hair already, hips moving in time with his mouth, and he wonders if anyone has ever blessed you like this. He needs to know.

He pulls away, letting his thumb gently replace his mouth, looking up at you, “Anyone ever done this for you?”

You shake your head, “No, but even if they had,” You’re biting at your bottom lip, “I don’t think it would have felt like this.”

He can’t help but smirk as he brings his mouth back to you, suckling your clit into his mouth, rolling his tongue over it, listening to you the way you whine for him, the way you start moving your hips in time with the movements of his mouth again. You taste divine, he thinks, as his tongue drops a little lower, drinking up the slick you’re creating for him, dragging it back up to run over your clit again.

“T-that’s so g-good.” He hears you moan.

“Yeah?” He replies, barely pulling off you.

He hears a noise in reply, lets one of his fingers trace up the skin of your thigh until he’s slowly pushing it inside of you, amazed at how easily you let him in just like he had been in the alley. He slips another in, curls them up gently, moves them until you tip your head back and really cry out for him this time. Javi can tell you’re close - he’s made enough women in his life feel good this way to know the signs - the way you’re tightening around his fingers inside you, the way your hips are moving but your thighs are starting to tighten around his shoulders and the way your moans are louder but more breathy, he’s addicted already, he knows it’s bad, but right now he can’t find it in himself to really care.

“J-javi,” You breathe, fingers gripping at his hair, “I’m gonna-”

“Go on, cariño,” He urges, “You can come for me.”

And you do, God alive you do, and it’s the most wonderful thing he’s ever been party to. Your cunt goes tight as a fist around his fingers, slick drooling down into his palm, he can feel the way you flutter around them as you say his name over and over again in some sort of fucked up prayer, and he thinks about how it would feel around his cock. Your entire body convulses as he works you gently through the aftershocks with his mouth, fingers slipping from inside you to rest, wet and sticky, on your thigh.

All of a sudden, he can feel you gripping his shoulders, pulling at the material to try and drag him up to you.

“Slow down, baby,” He says, but he moves anyway, pushing you back onto the bed, settling himself between your thighs, “We’ve got all night.”

“Javi, please,” You beg, and he doesn’t think he’s heard anything nicer in his life, “I want you,” Your fingers are fumbling with his jeans, trying to move his belt, “Inside me.”

Javi moves, taking your wrists in his hands, pinning them above your head, letting his hips grind into your own, front of his jeans grinding into the soft wet of your sensitive cunt.

“Do you have anything?” He breathes right into your ear, teeth nipping at the lobe.

“Top drawer.” You say quietly, whining when he pushes himself up onto his knees to reach into the draw.

Javi fumbles around a little until the familiar crinkle of foil hits the tips of his fingers. He pulls it out, places it into his mouth as he works to undo his jeans, pushing them down only far enough to free his aching cock. In an ideal world he’d strip the two of you off, but there’s something about this image of you, laid out on the bed in your sinful little sundress, tits heaving as you breathe, that means he just can’t wait.

He almost cries when you reach up, smooth palm stroking at his cock, so slowly he thinks he might die. Tin foil packet between his teeth, he tears it open, rolls it into his cock like it’s muscle memory. He leans back down, feeling the head of his cock nudging at your aching pussy, gathering your wrists back into his hands to pin you down again.

Javi is looking right into your beautiful eyes now, looking at the very soul of you as he stills. He’s damning the both of you to hell with this. He thinks if he’d been stronger, he could have stopped this - sure your mouth around his cock in the bar had been like silk, and the way you’d let him touch you against the brick wall had him seeing stars, but he knows, once he’s sunk himself deep inside you, he won’t be able to come back from this.

“You sure?” He asks, lips pressing softly to your own.

“Please.”

And it’s all he needed to hear to start slowly sinking into you. He watches closely as your eyes flutter closed, head tipped back, throat exposed to his mouth. He listens as he inches in slowly to your panting breaths and your little moans, until he’s buried fully inside you. His hands are gripping at your wrists tightly as he stays still, your hips wiggling underneath him.

“Hermosa,” He pleads, warns with his tone, “Don’t m-move, please.”

Like the devil himself, you don’t listen, and when he pulls his face from the crook of your neck, you’re smirking, you know exactly what you’re doing.

“Javier,” You use his full name and he swears he feels himself throb inside you, “Fuck me.”

He should have known the whole time that this wasn’t going to be a shining star performance, it’s been too long since he’s felt like this, felt the warmth of someone like this, but he knows this is different, he knows that look in your eye, not quite love, definitely not quite love, but it’s something different to the girls of Colombia. He can’t offer you a lifeline, he can’t offer you money to get yourself out of a country that’s trying to kill you, they needed him for something, and he needed them for something in return. But here, he just needs you, no whistles, no bells, just you.

Pushing himself up a little, letting go of his grip on your wrists, he puts his palms on the backs of your thighs and pushing your legs back, folding you underneath him as he starts moving a little faster, fucking you a little harder, you let out a proper moan into the air of the room and he finds himself smirking.

“That what you needed, baby?” He coos as he fucks you, feeling himself reach the very end of you with each thrust, “Just needed me to fuck whatever was in that pretty head of yours away?”

He can feel you tightening around his length, can feel the sweat sticking his shirt to his back, and that tell-tale tightening he feels when it’s almost time. He wishes he could hold on, wishes he could string this out, make it better for you, but god he needs to feel you again, he needs to feel the way you come around his cock.

“Touch yourself,” His tonne is demanding, but he watches down at you as you smirk, bringing your hand to your pussy, finger circling your clit as his hips start to falter, “Come on baby, one more just for me.”

It happens all of a sudden, the way your body snaps under him, and that feeling he’s been chasing, the feeling of you clenching around him, arching your back into him. He can feel the effect it has on him, just seconds later he’s following you over the edge, stilling inside of you as he finishes, banishing the tiny thought in the back of his head that says he wishes he was filling you up without a barrier between the two of you.

Once he’s caught his breath a little, he pulls out of you, groaning into your skin, listening to you whine at the loss of him. He takes off the condom, ties a knot in the top, wrapping it along with the packet in a tissue to put in the bin. He puts his clothes right, before crawling back onto the bed with you, pulling you into his chest, sighing at the feeling of your arm draped over his stomach, your leg entwined with his own. He presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Did that help?” He asks quietly.

“Yeah,” You reply softly into the material of his shirt, “Thank you.”

“You feel okay?” He’s slightly worried he was too rough, maybe that you didn’t enjoy it, “Was it okay?”

You move your head, looking up at him with sleepy eyes, “Javi, please,” You whisper, “Stop worrying, it was perfect.”

He lies there for a while, wishing he could strip the two of you down, press your warm bodies together and fall asleep like this is all normal and you aren’t younger than him, or the daughter of one of his closest friends.

“I should go,” He muses, “Not that I want to,” He adds quickly, worried you’ll think he wants to make a quick escape, “Just need to leave before any eyes are around to ask questions.”

You move slightly, letting the warmth of your body drag away from his own, “One day we’ll be able to do this properly, I hope.” You say, pushing yourself up on your palm as he rises from the bed.

“I promise the next time I have you like that,” He’s looking at you now, chin held in his hand, “I’m going to strip you down, take my time and fall asleep next to you, I promise.”

He kisses you then, slipping his tongue into your mouth and it takes every inch of his strength to pull away.

“Go on,” You smile at him, “Before my dad comes home and shoots you.”

“He wouldn’t shoot me baby,” He smiles back at you, “He wants me back on the force too much.”

“Before he gives you a black eye then.”

He can’t help but laugh at that, giving you a small salute as he turns to leave, but there’s something niggling at that back of his mind as his hand reaches for the handle of your door, something he needs to ask before he leaves, “If something was bothering you,” He asks, turning back to you, “Or you were getting into something at work, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

He’s looking right at you as you answer, searching for anything that says you’re not telling him the truth, and as you answer, he doesn’t find a reason to doubt you, “Of course I would.”

When he’s gone, twenty minutes later your parents are falling through the door, laughing at each other, too many glasses of God knows what over dinner have made them jolly and you find yourself smirking, biting at your bottom lip in the dark, that the two of them have no idea that Javier Peña left just twenty minutes ago after fucking you better than anyone else ever had.

It’s something that keeps you smiling, even as you fall asleep, eyes closing, any thought of work and dead-end leads forgotten and replaced by dreams of what else that man might be able to show you.

[creedslove]

boyfriend!Javier Peña who is so painfully insecure in this relationship it breaks your heart; the lack of confidence in himself where he just assumes he isn't good enough for you or he's gonna screw up somehow is just so much, late at night when he is sitting by the window smoking a cigarette and watching you sleep in his bed he wonders if he lost his damn mind for openly getting in a relationship with you

boyfriend!Javier Peña doesn't even like to remember how his work adds to all the pressure he already feels towards your relationship. It's dangerous, it's too many long hours, it's frustrating and the future is always uncertain, a part of him hates himself for dragging you into his mess

boyfriend!Javier Peña can't even remember how to date properly, last time he had dated dated was before his wedding fiasco in Laredo all those years back; after that, he just went from woman after woman, a catalogue of blurry faces and meaningless physical touch that always left him soaked into his own loneliness

boyfriend!Javier Peña is scared and almost every night convinced things between the two of you was a mistake, but then he saw you, how you slept in his shirt, the way your skin felt against him, your scent, your lips... All about you made his heart race

boyfriend!Javier Peña knew from that moment on he could never give you up, even if it meant he was going to be a damn selfish man for not letting you go, but so be it, he was going to keep you within

boyfriend!Javier Peña would be the most protective man over you; he'd be constantly worried about your safety and well being given his job as a DEA agent in Colombia, which means he would definitely teach you self defense

boyfriend!Javier Peña would definitely teach you how to shoot, being impressed with how good you are since lesson one, he'd feel so proud and surprised to see how turned on a woman like yourself with a gun in hands made him

boyfriend!Javier Peña most definitely suggests you paint your nails red to match the gun holding in your hand, that sight gives him chills and he can't believe how lucky he truly is

boyfriend!Javier Peña is definitely pleased to see you can handle yourself by being a badass gorgeous goddess to him and each time you fall asleep on his chest, he allows himself to picture a future with you, where he'd take you to a beautiful ranch and make you the happiest woman in the world

boyfriend!Javier Peña won't ever admit it but he loves watching Steve's baby and daydream the day you will carry your own baby Peña

boyfriend!Javier Peña loves you with all his heart, sometimes he still thinks he isn't worthy of you, but he's thankful you are so kind to him, you gave him a chance to experience what true love is like

boyfriend!Javier Peña worships you, you are the most precious thing in the whole world for him, and there's nothing that man wouldn't do for you ❤️

[tieronecrush]

part of me, apart from me

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

word count: 14k....its a whole thing okay?

summary:

kindly requested from a lovely anon "You and Javi had one kid together when you were very young, maybe you broke up due to his work schedule. You reunite at their college graduation 👀"

javier & you had daughter right after he graduated college, you with a couple years left yourself. when she was 15, he got the call to head to colombia, deciding with you to pursue his career and leave the two of you in the safety of laredo. seven years later, your daughter is graduating from college and javier is back home for good after cali, forcing himself to face what he finds are his failures, and hold out hope that you still feel the same as he does.

warnings (SPOILERS): BIG self doubt, self deprecation, heavy guilt, separated relationship, co-parenting, javier being in unrequited love, chucho being a king and a great grandfather & father, strained familial relationships on mother's side, discussions of death/violence/drugs, smoking, alcohol use, mentions of food/eating, use of spanish, javi has total DAD moments, he is a DILF ofc, dirty talk, oral sex (f & m (briefly) receiving), unprotected sex, unplanned pregnancy, becomes established relationship, etc.

a/n: i don't think the anon who requested this realized what it would do to my brain, but i have created a whole universe for this fic. i am in love with their little family and they will live forever in my head and heart. a huge thank you to my bestie el @northernbluess for screaming about javi, this fic, giving me the title for this, and beta-reading this long ass fic for me. love you friend!!!! hope you all enjoy, and that you love them as much as i do!

The engine of Javier’s truck cuts as he turns the ignition, the loud rumble of its mechanics quieting to reveal the sounds of birds chirping. For Texas in May, it’s a pretty mild day, sunlight shining bright against the blue sky. There’s a handful of wispy clouds above him as he opens the door and steps down from the cab, shutting it with a metallic click. He rolls his shoulders and swings his arms to loosen up, the sweat at the nape of his neck is from his nerves more than the temperature.

It’s been two years since he has seen his daughter, Liliana, in person. He’d come back from Colombia after everything that went down with the Cali cartel and the government only a mere 48 hours ago. He’s exhausted, but he made the drive from Laredo to College Station to see his princesa, the light of his life for the last twenty-two years, graduate from college. Specifically, his alma mater, Texas A&M University.

He has been counting down the days until he was back for this occasion, after repeatedly reminding everyone in the embassy that he would be out of the country. It just so happens that he doesn’t need to return to Colombia as he had originally planned.

A deep inhale and slow exhale attempt to calm the jitters that are trembling his fingers.

Fuck, he really wants a cigarette.

But Lili would kill him if he showed up smelling like burnt tobacco when he had promised a week ago he was on the Nicorette thing.

Instead, he shakes his head to himself and hooks his sunglasses in the open chest of his light blue short-sleeve button-up. Out of habit, he reaches to his lower back to feel for his pistol, his touch brushing denim.

Another inhale, slow exhale.

He can do this.

It’s you and his daughter. Two people that he loves. Two people he’s been working for.

Maybe that’s why he’s so fucking nervous.

How can you welcome him back every time he makes a visit? How can his daughter be excited to talk to him every week from across the equator? He’s been gone for years. Most of her teenage life, and nearly all of her college career. He’s only been back once since she moved to university. Once.

What a fucking asshole.

Certainly not a good father.

His boots tick against the pavement of the front path up to the dingy, weather-worn two-story house. He remembers getting photographs of Liliana in front of this house a couple of years ago, sent from you and stuffed in an envelope along with photos retelling her entire summer. That one of her standing proudly in front of this house hung on his fridge until he packed it up two days ago.

Every day he looked at it, he wished nothing more than to have been like one of her friends’ dads that helped with moving in and fixing up the house, maybe slipping her a hundred dollar bill to spend on groceries or alcohol on his way out to the car after saying goodbye.

Instead, he was stuck in Colombia under the thumb of the U.S. government and sleazy CIA agents that were controlling him like a puppet.

He’s here now, though. And he’s trying so hard to get over the tightness in his chest, to clear the lump in his throat, and to dry his sweaty palms when he gets up the creaky wooden steps and up to the front door. His middle finger presses the doorbell aggressively, taking a step back and shaking out his shoulders again.

Gaze focused on his shoes, he looked up as he heard the door unlock. A wide, genuine grin breaks out on his face when he sees Liliana in the threshold, that same smile copied and pasted onto hers, even down to the dimple on his right cheek.

“Tata (Dad)! You’re here!” she exclaims, jumping out of the door and hooking her arms around his neck. He laughs as he catches her, one arm wrapping around her waist and his other hand reaching up to hold the back of her head. He pets her long, brunette hair, squeezing her in a tight hug against his chest.

“Oh, Lili Pad. Missed you so much, mija.” He kisses the side of her head before loosening his hold on her, taking in the sight of his daughter after seeing her only through photographs for years.

“Tata, I’m graduating college tomorrow. Not little Lili Pad anymore.”

Her eye roll gives Javier’s attitude a run for its money.

Damn, she really got a lot from his gene pool.

The same deep brown eyes with hints of amber, softened and round give away their every emotion. The same mouth that finds a perfect pout, combined with those eyes he was always pushed over when she was younger. Anything she wanted, he would give to her. Even now.

She has your nose, though. Your ears. Your feminine facial structure. Your charming, warm personality.

“You’re always gonna be Lili Pad, amorcita. Always gonna be my babygirl,” he presses another kiss to her temple, unraveling her from him, “But you have grown into such a beautiful woman, Lili. You remind me of your mamá when she was your age.”

“There’s that Peña charm.”

He looks over his daughter’s shoulder and sees you leaning against the banister, arms crossed over your chest with a smirk playing at your lips. His heart rate increases to double speed, his now dry hands clamming up again as he drinks you in from head to toe.

Years away and he is still so fucking in love with you.

Another reason to curse his time in Colombia.

It was a mutual decision, to split up before he left. There was no timeline for how long he would be gone or when he could come back that first time he went down there.

And there was no way in hell he was putting the two most important people in his life in the middle of what was basically a fucking warzone.

So, that was that. Co-parents, and close friends.

And an agonizing ache every time he saw you since he left.

He grins right back at you, Lili waving him inside after her. Crossing the entryway to you, he opens his arms with a quirk of his brows.

Your smirk reaches its full stretch, shifting into a gracious smile as you drop your arms and step into his, snaking your hands around to his back. He holds you tightly, a shorter embrace than the one with Liliana but long enough for your signature scent to pull him back to being a young, dumb college student who was madly in love. A chaste kiss is pressed to your cheek before he pulls away.

“I’m pretty sure she gets that from you, amor. I don’t recall a time when you weren’t able to get what you wanted — everyone you meet thinks you’re a delight.”

“See? More charm. Laying it on a little thick, Jav,” you tease, hitting your fist against his bicep gently.

He glances at your arm when you lower it back to your side, catching the glint of the bracelet with Liliana’s initials in gold charms that is always on your wrist. He gave it to you after she was born, once she was taken home from the hospital and the two of you were standing over her crib watching her sleep. Ever since then, he’s never seen you without it.

“Alright, alright. Enough of the weird, complimentary back-and-forth you guys do. Do you wanna see the place before I move out, viejo?” Lili cuts in and Javi’s eyes leave your wrist to look at her with a smile.

“Ay, no soy viejo, princesa (Ay, I am not old, princess). Now lead the way and no more making fun of me,” he nods for her to walk ahead of him, taking a few steps and glancing back at you, “You not coming on the tour, amor?”

You shake your head and give Liliana a look that says ‘Care to explain?’. Being on the receiving end of that look many times, he knows it a bit too well coming from you.

“Mom is being amazing and helpful and wonderful like Mom always is and is packing my closet for me.” Lili cringes as she admits it to her father, Javier shaking his head and letting out a long exhale.

“Liliana, you have known you’re moving for months and you’ve waited until the day before graduation to pack? Dios, somos demasiado parecidos (God, we are too much alike),” he nods for her to continue walking as you laugh behind him, the sound traveling as you walk upstairs and bringing a faint smile to his lips as he follows his daughter.

He hovers around Lili’s room as you pace from her closet to the cases laid out on the floor, organizing everything and folding as you walk back and forth. Your daughter is downstairs, tasked with packing up her items from the kitchen and the living room. Javi’s been given the whole tour, now dropped off to “catch up with Mom”, as Lili put it.

Across the surfaces and walls, he spies the little gifts he’s sent her over his years away: all of the birthday cards he’s hand-picked and written letters in stacked in a box on her desk, the mola depicting lilies framed and hanging on her wall, the brightly colored Wayuu mochila that he’d bought from one of the open air markets in Bogotá hanging off of the door knob to her closet.

There’s a sharp pain in his chest when he sees the small picture frames sitting on her nightstand. He sits on the edge of her bed and picks them up one by one to study them. The first is a photo of you and Lili, smiling from ear to ear. He recognizes the photo as one he took on his visit before last, the one he made before Lili went to college. The pair of you are standing in the middle of an overgrown field on the Peña ranch, sun setting in the background. Lili insisted on watching the sunset all together on Javi’s last night at home, and he snuck the camera out with the three of you.

He has a copy of the photo right next to his bed, too.

Setting the frame down delicately, he picks up the next one, this one of Lili and him alone. It’s from years ago, the wide smile on Lili’s face showing off her missing front tooth. Javi grins back at his little girl in the photo, his eyes combing over to the younger version of him, way back when he was a sheriff in Laredo. It must have been during the holidays — there’s a shiny plastic red gift bow on his chest and Lili is wearing a knit sweater with a snowman on it.

Where did all the time go?

The last photograph grows the lump in his throat and the ache in between his ribs. It’s a photo of the three of you, one from his most recent visit a couple of years ago. Dressed up for a Dean’s Award ceremony that Liliana was nominated for. She looks like the spitting image of you, and you are absolutely glowing with pride for her. You two are so beautiful. He looks exhausted, anxiety in his eyes that never seems to have left since his first year in the DEA. It was around the time when he thought he was going to be able to stay, to be around for Lili and for you. He told you what happened in Colombia that got him sent home; you understood, of course, you understood why he did it all. And he admitted it all with the faintest smile on his face, the thought of getting to settle was appealing more and more to him.

And then he got the call.

He battled with the decision.

He talked to you about it.

You said, “We’re always gonna be here, Jav. You need to go. What’s a few more years?”

Everything. A few more years was everything.

He missed so much.

“You okay, Jav?”

He looks up from the photo in his hands, eyes focusing back on the room instead of a million miles ahead. You are kneeling next to one of the suitcases, carefully placing some of your daughter’s clothes in neatly. Those eyes you’re giving him turn his brain to mush, all of the escalating thoughts dripping away.

“Yeah, yeah, all good. Reminiscing,” he nods to himself as he turns the photo for you to see before setting it back down, pulling a grin onto his face, “Do you remember when the three of us would all go out to dinner or meet up with my tíos and tías when Lili was a baby? And they would always ask us when we were getting married?”

A gentle laugh comes from you as you think back, knowing how many times you got asked the same question over and over again.

“Yes, I definitely remember that. I also remember you getting so annoyed one day that you just—”

“Lied and said that we got married at the courthouse?”

“Yes! I got such an onslaught of questions after you said that. That news, which wasn’t even news, spread like wildfire throughout your family.”

“Well, at least it got people off our backs, esposa,” he winks, grin lifting to one side to meld into a smirk.

You roll your eyes dramatically, the wide smile peeling your lips apart making Javi’s heart race faster.

“You want some help, amor? Feel like an imbécil not doing anything,” he slaps his hands on his knees as he stands from Lili’s bed, taking the handful of steps that separate you. One knee is bent to bring him down to the ground, huffing out a sigh as he gets fully onto his knees.

“Sure you’re gonna be able to get up from the floor, viejo?” You raise an eyebrow at him as you continue to put rolled clothes into the luggage. Javier rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

“I think I can handle getting up from the ground, bromista. Been jumping off of roofs and trekking through fucking jungles for seven years.” He doesn’t wait for your response, grabbing one of the unfolded shirts from next to you and attempting to fold it as neatly as you’ve done with the rest of them.

“Alright, alright. I believe you. How about I roll, you organize what I hand you into the suitcase? Sounds good?” You hold a hand out for the shirt in his hand, a small laugh as he resigns his attempt and passes the fabric over.

“Sí, jefa (Yes, boss),” a soft grin pulls one side of his mouth up, deepening the dimple on his right cheek. You look at him with your own tender smile when you hand him a rolled pair of jeans to put away, reaching your hand up to poke the little crevice in his cheek like you always do — like you always did.

The two of you work quietly for a few minutes, falling into a rhythm. Liliana makes noise from downstairs, cabinets open and closing, sounds of bubble wrap being ripped echoing throughout the house.

“How’re you doin’, Jav?”

The question strikes him, slumping his shoulders and training his gaze on the shirt in his hands as he rubs his index and thumb over the softened cotton.

It’s a simple enough question; he expected you to ask when you first saw him. In a greeting, he thought it would be easy to brush it off, tell you ‘Estoy bien’ or that he was happy to be home.

But right now, packing up his daughter’s clothes to move her out of college and back into your home — the day before his little girl’s graduation — it feels too difficult to lie.

Sitting alone here with you, the mother of his daughter, the beauty that gave him his greatest gift, the woman — the strong, commanding, warm, gentle woman that he is still so incredibly in love with — is drawing the truth out of him before he can fully catch up with what he’s admitting.

“Feeling like a real pendejo. I missed so much. Too much, amor. I’m sorry.”

“Jav. You are here now. You always show up when she needs her Tata. Even if it’s not physically, you show up for her every day. No more of that talk this weekend, do you hear me? You’re here. That’s it. Not missing anything.”

How do you always know what to say to him?

How did he ever walk away from you?

Javier nods his head, pressing his lips into a tight line as his fingers twitch for nicotine. He would kill for that slow drag of smoke filling his lungs, relaxing his racing mind and heart with a break that lasts as long as the burning paper and tobacco.

Instead, he stands on his knees, grabbing the plastic pack out of his pocket and popping out a chiclet of gum, tossing it into his mouth, and chewing furiously. The look on your face is observational, a twitch of your lips into the faintest grin calms him nearly as much as a cigarette would.

He sits back on his haunches, one of his hands reaching to touch you, faltering when your head turns down to fold the item of clothing in your hands.

“Te quiero, esposa,” his hand grazes his fingertips along the denim covering his thighs, twitching to move the hair curtaining your face, “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, Jav,” your head shakes back and forth subtly, eyes lifting from your lap and softening as you smile at him, “Love you, too.”

“Jesús Cristo, Liliana, you have a lot of shit. I went to college with a suitcase and a duffle bag — and left four years later with just the duffle bag,” Javier shakes his head as he carries the last piece of luggage downstairs to the living room where the rest of her packed belongings are accumulating to pack up in your three cars the day after her graduation.

“God, Jav, you sound like my father. ‘I walked twelve miles to school with rocks in my backpack and in a foot of snow’,” you drop your voice to mock him, laughing with your daughter as she walks in from the kitchen and stands next to you, “Getting to be an old man, Peña.”

“Mamá is right, Tata. You’re the youngest dad out of all my friends and you sound the oldest right now,” Lili says through a wide smile, and you laugh with her now, sending Javier a brightly teasing grin.

He grumbles and rolls his eyes, waving a hand at both of you dismissively.

“Yeah, yeah. Enough from you two bromistas. Y’know, I didn’t miss you two ganging up on me — it was one thing through the phone, but in person is just too much.”

Your tongue clicks and you walk over to him, pinching his cheek as you pass by him, “Aw, Jav, it’s all love. You’re just easy to rile up, makes it fun.”

You wink at him with your back to Liliana, slipping out of the room to grab more of her boxes from the kitchen. At your touch and the minuscule flirtation, his heart rate thumps louder in his ears. His eyes follow you out of the room, snapping back when Liliana asks him a question. He shakes himself out of the trance, looking over to his daughter and stepping over to where she’s stood in front of an open box.

“Qué pasa, mija? (What’s up, my daughter?)” Javier reaches an arm up and wraps it around her shoulders, holding her against his side as he presses a kiss to her head. His eyes drop to what’s held in front of her, a chill running down his spine when he sees a photo of Escobar across the front page of the newspaper, the headline reading ‘ESCOBAR KILLED IN MEDELLÍN’.

“Do you want this copy, Tata? I kept two of them, but I think the other one is already packed away and I don’t know if I need both anymore really. Kept one to show my professors all about you,” Lili turns her head and looks up at him.

Javier shakes his head, a tight smile facing his daughter before he drops his arm from her shoulders.

“No, no thanks, mija. No need to keep the other one either. I wasn’t even there for that, amorcita. I think I was actually about to come over to Mamá’s house to see you when I got the call,” he tasks his antsy hands with sealing a cardboard box with packing tape, “May as well toss them out. Or send them to Mr. Murphy if you want them to be kept safe.”

“I don’t want to get rid of the other one. I want to keep it. Even if you weren’t there for it, you still did so much work to get to that point, Tata. I mean, you doing all of that in Colombia is what made me want to do criminal psychology,” she carefully slips the newspaper into one of the open boxes, closing it up and holding her hand out for the tape roll.

“Mi princesa, you—“

“I know, Tata. I promise I am not going to be running on rooftops or caught in the middle of shootouts with the DEA. No fighting cartels, viejo. I just want to work with profiling and behind-the-scenes stuff.” She takes the tape, closing up the box completely as Javier’s heart cinches in his chest.

He is so incredibly proud of his Lili Pad, but he can’t deny how angry he got when Liliana chose her major finally — of course, it had to be criminology. She explained she was drawn to it because of his work, but assured that she is not interested in doing the same thing he has done for years. Behind the scenes, possibly going into forensic psychology or helping to profile criminals. Office jobs, for the most part. But he couldn’t shake that anger inside for months; never been angry with his daughter, and he knew she was as headstrong as him and would achieve what she wanted. He was angry with himself, for even planting any sort of seed, even unknowingly, for Lili to get into this type of work. He knows that eventually her end of the promise might not be kept — he knows her, how easily excitable she can get with new opportunities. She’ll likely end up climbing ranks or even getting into some agency like the FBI or something.

The thought of her out there, in a tac vest or with a weapon, makes bile burn his esophagus.

“Alright, I think we’re done here for today. Better go check into the hotel and we can get ready quick, then we can swing by and pick you up for dinner, Lili.” Your voice pulls him out of his spiral, stare focusing back into the room and glancing over at you in the doorway from the kitchen.

“Sí, jefa. Sounds like a plan,” he pats the pockets of his jeans and feels for his truck keys, “You gonna be ready if we come in an hour, princesa?”

Lili rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest and popping her hip out, a stance all too familiar to Javier.

“Sí, Tata. Besides, I’m not the one you should be asking that to. Mom is always the one who takes longer to get ready.”

Javier laughs when you walk over to your daughter, pinching her side playfully. He shakes his head and gives Liliana a knowing look.

“Mija, I have known that fact about your mamá for longer than you’ve been alive. I’m guessing it will be an hour and a half until we’re back, but wanted to make sure you were actually ready. An hour to you women is at least an hour and fifteen to the rest of the world.”

Javier smiles with a loud laugh as both you and Lili approach him and swat his arms, pinching his sides without causing any pain whatsoever. There were protests on either side of him, his daughter and her mother annoyed with the judgments on their time management but all three of them knew he was right.

“Alright, alright, I apologize…” he surrenders from the assault with his hands up, taking deep breaths as he recovers from his laughter before continuing with a smirk, “But we all know I’m right!”

Javier makes a quick exit out of the room and through the front door before any other hits or pinches can be given to him, hearing the stifled laughter from you and Lili from inside the house.

“Yeah, you better run, Jav!” you call out as you gather your purse and fish out your car keys, saying a quick goodbye to Lili and following his path out of the house, “Now I’m gonna be ready in an hour just to prove you wrong.”

“That would only make me overjoyed. Maybe we could make our reservation in time then,” he waves goodbye to Liliana before turning to continue down the front path of her house, to his truck parked in front of your small SUV.

“You wanna follow me over there?” he asks as he unlocks the driver’s side door, watching you open yours and nod to him.

“Yeah, sounds good to me. Don’t be driving like a bat out of hell, though, Javier.”

“Hey, I can’t make any promises. Used to driving all around Colombian cities, it’s a lot different on those roads,” he jokes before making sure you get into your car, hopping into the truck, and listening to the engine turn over before he leads you both over to your accommodations for the rest of the weekend.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Peña. We would normally be absolutely willing to find a solution for you, but we’re fully booked for the graduation weekend. We only have one room for you.” The front desk receptionist looks terrified of Javier at this moment, his glare that he has perfected, normally reserved for serious criminals or dirty agents, is aimed directly at the young college student working here.

When the two of you were trying to check in, they had been informed that the reservation Javier had made for the two of you, two standard rooms, had been double booked, resulting in the parties involved only getting delegated one room each. 

His jaw notched to the side, hands gripping the edge of the front counter with his arms wide and head dipping down in annoyance. He picks it up, addressing the hotel employee again.

“I made a reservation months ago. I called from fucking Colombia — I paid about forty dollars wasting twenty minutes on the phone with whoever was working that day just to get this booked—”

“Jav,” your hand finds his chest as his eyes find yours, the rapid heartbeat thumping in his chest definitely not slowing down at what was supposed to be your soothing touch, “It’s fine. We can survive with one room for two nights. It’s either taking this or sleeping on the floor at Lili’s.”

Holding your gaze, he can see the words unsaid in the look you’re giving him.

Shut up and take the room key.

And there’s no way he is continuing to argue with the kid in front of him as he squirms under your own stern stare. With a grumble, he straightens up, your hand leaving his chest and cool, conditioned air chilling the spot that was covered in your warmth. The rest of the check-in process is painless, with Javier paying for the stay and taking the room keys. He turns around to face you, handing you one of the access cards and nodding toward the elevators.

“Let me take that, amor.” He leans down and grabs both duffles from the floor, one his and one yours, following your lead over to the elevators. The two of you stand and wait for the doors to open, the familiar ding alerting them to which one will be taking them up to their floor. When the doors slide apart, a large group of people started to spill out into the lobby. You step back to avoid a collision with a man not watching where he is walking, and Javier’s hand immediately finds your lower back to steady you. It lingers as the rush of people clears out — he makes no move to take it away until he guides you into the small square space, dropping his touch to press the button for your floor.

Once the two of you make it into the room, he sets your bags down on the desk and dresser, walking over to the thermostat to turn it down for you without a second thought.

“You remember,” you observe with a grin, rifling through your bag to find your toiletries and a change of clothes for dinner.

“Course I do, always had to have the air blasting in our apartment or the house. You never could sleep without a massive blanket and your toes under my legs. Never did understand your need to be freezing, always,” he chuckles at the memories of every night with you, until the separation when he was assigned to Bogotá.

“I dunno why either, just was always the most comfortable. Felt cozier, plus it always gave an excuse to cuddle.” Your giggle sends a tingle from his ears down the back of his neck and across his shoulders, a shudder easily blamed on the intense fans of the air-con.

“Go ahead and take the first shower, esposa. I’ll wait so that you can have more time to get ready and all that,” Javier crosses the room, saddling up next to you to rummage through his own weekender bag. In his periphery, he can see you flash a smile as you gather your things in one arm, using the free hand to brush across his shoulder blades when you walk behind him.

“Very kind, Jav. I’ll be quick, I promise.”

You stand in the doorway of the bathroom and he picks his head up, turning it to look at you. Head to toe, he scans you quickly before settling on your face, shaking his head.

“Take your time, amor. We both know I can be ready in ten minutes if I need to be,” he sends you a wink and half a smirk appears when you laugh, shutting the door behind you.

He hears the water run, kicking off his boots and sitting at the edge of the bed with an extensive sigh. Rubbing his eyes of exhaustion, he’s still for a moment. Shoulders drop, limbs feeling heavy as the day catches up with him. Moving, packing, even fighting with himself has drained him over the course of the day.

He loved spending time with his Liliana again, seeing her eager to walk the stage tomorrow and collect her diploma. And being around you again, drudging up all of the feelings and desires and words that he has tamped down for the last seven years. But it all comes with reminders of how absent he was, thousands of miles away, how undeserving he is of being welcomed back into the arms of you two, how his daughter was so proud, idolized him so much that she chose to study a major that puts her in the same field of work. He deserves distance from her, a cold shoulder from you — aloofness of some sort for the choice he made.

At least that’s what he’s told himself over and over for nearly the last decade. No matter how much you or Lili continually proved those thoughts wrong, they always came back.

He glances at his watch before standing and moving toward the bag again, hearing the water shut off and moving to grab his toiletries. Taking out the leather Dopp kit jostles something else in the bag loose, flinging it out onto the floor. Bending down with a sigh to retrieve it, he’s faced with the metal badge emblazoned with the DEA seal and ‘USA’ carved into it. It must have been in the bag from his plane ride earlier this week, and it serves as a blatant reminder of what he needs to talk to you about on this trip. What he needs to tell Liliana, too.

The badge gets thrown back into the bag and he walks toward the open bathroom door, stopping short within the threshold. You’re standing at the counter, products splayed around you to do your makeup. Even after living with you for 15 years, he barely has a clue what any of it does besides lipstick and mascara. He’d spent many mornings and evenings listening to you explaining your routine, but never quite getting down all the product names. There’s a pang in his chest, felt deep in the bones of his rib cage; the sight gives him major deja vu, nostalgia wavering over him. Even his subconscious longs for a time when you were his.

A humorous smile reflects back at him with your eyes glued to his in the mirror. Your fingers tap a rogue-colored product across your cheeks, giving you a bit of a brighter, subtly flushed look.

“Sorry, Jav, promise I’ll be out of here in like five minutes. I am trying to be quick.”

“Cálmate, amor. No hay prisa.There’s no rush, really…” he clears his throat, setting his toiletry bag down on an open space at the counter. He leans one hip against it, body facing you and studying the motions of painting your face while his mind works up the courage to bring up the pressing conversation.

“I, um, I actually have to tell you something.” His eyes cast down to the side, the grout of the tiles suddenly interested him.

“What is, Jav? You can tell me anything, you know that.” The compact in your hand is forgotten, clicked closed, and set down next to you as you mirror his stance. One hip against the counter, facing him.

“I know. I know. There’s just—It’s kind of a big thing and I wanted to tell you as soon as it all happened but I didn’t know how things would exactly shake out…”

“Javier. Take a breath,” you instruct him, hand against his chest with purposeful pressure, taking a deep inhale along with him and letting it out slowly. You don’t remove your hand, and he’s grateful for the gesture.

“I retired from the DEA two days ago. The morning before I left to come home. So, uh, I’m back at the ranch with Pop and I’ll be here now.” A mess of emotion comes out of his voice — fear, anxiety, relief, disappointment. Painfully, he drags his eyes up to your face, seeing your eyes wide with surprise and your brows relaxing from shooting up at the news. It’s an unreadable, unfamiliar expression; he watches as it all morphs behind your eyes before sympathy washes over every feature of yours, tender tone speaking up in the tiny bathroom.

“What happened?”

Everything was spilling out after that — information that was surely spreading across the US over the last 48 hours, not that he paid any attention to the news right now. Ambassador Crosby told him that he had won, that the Cali Godfathers would be locked up, at least for the foreseeable future. How dirty he felt when Crosby said the words, “You played the system like a goddamn fiddle…” The ledger proving the Colombian president’s campaign donations from the Cali cartel in exchange for immunity, the knowledge that the US government allowed all of it to occur, how he had spoken about it all to the reporter from El Tiempo.

“Javier, Jav, oh—I’m so proud of you.” The air is knocked him his lungs when the sound of those words reaches his ears, the next second being wrapped up in your tight embrace. It takes a moment to register your hug before he relaxes his weight against you, tension melting as you speak to him right next to his ear, “You told the truth. You helped every single Colombian citizen know what their government was doing to them. Just, holy shit, Javi. That’s fucking badass. I’m so, so proud of you, honey.”

Kindness, understanding, and comfort ooze around him and break down the stoicism that he’s been masked with for the last two days, tears welling in his eyes and spilling a few over that he quickly wipes away.

How can you always seem to find endless compassion for him? He’s just told you he quit his job with no real backup plan and all you said was how proud of him you are.

You’re a really good friend.

A great friend, actually.

Fuck, he is so in love with you still it hurts.

“Thank you…I don’t deserve your pride though, I did so many bad things,” his voice is hoarse on the last word, tightening his arms around you to quell his emotion.

“None of that, Jav. You uncovered a whole fucking…political scandal. Told people what their governments were doing. That’s honest; it’s ethical and respectable. You did the right thing, Jav.”

The last few words grow the lump in his throat, a slow nod against the side of your head. His lips brush your ear, confiding as if it is something he hasn’t said many times before, “Te quiero, amor.”

The smile is evident in your voice despite the fact that the hug keeps your face from his sight, and the saccharine sweetness of your voice sends his heart racing again, “Love you too, honey.”

At dinner, once there’d been a few drinks and some food served, Javier told Liliana the news he broke to you in your hotel bathroom. Albeit, it was an abridged version, details of his mistakes and pains of guilt left out for his precious daughter’s sake. She was eager to get out into the world and make a difference, and he had all the faith that she could, unlike him. He didn’t want his story to taint her view of what she was going to be able to achieve with her sheer determination.

He had that at one point. Probably lost it sometime in the last few years, slowly and then all at once when those tapes were found.

Liliana was understanding of her father resigning, chalking it up to his years down there catching up with him and teasing him for being an old man now. He took it gracefully, laughing along with the two of you and riffing on his own, with self-effacing jokes. As the conversation wrapped up, questions from Lili were answered by him — he was home, for good, living with Chucho and helping run the ranch. He would absolutely be around to help her get ready for her first day at work and help her move into her new apartment in San Antonio. And yes, he would be delighted to come over for dinner once or twice a week to spend some time with her, and you. Liliana had formulated the idea herself, earning a nod of approval from you and a warm invitation seconded.

After he accepted, Liliana changed the subject to rant about whoever the university had chosen for the commencement speech and how random of a choice it was. He listened intently, always hanging on every word from his Lili Pad, but he couldn’t help but be distracted by your hand coming to the place on his thigh closest to his knee, resting there for a moment before giving him a supportive squeeze. Nothing was spoken about the gesture, no looks were exchanged when your hand stayed there until the food came.

Sitting in the booth, observing and listening to his girls bounce back and forth in conversation, he finds the first moment of resounding comfort that he’s felt in seven years.

The last conversation he had with Spencer just days ago after the recent trial in D.C. rings in his mind, the two men standing at the displayed photos of Special Agents from the DEA.

He had asked Javier, “What else is a guy like you gonna do?”

At the time, Javier wasn’t too sure.

But now, with two of his favorite smiles beaming, one identical to his own, and the chorus of laughter that soundtracks his life, and his heart racing, the heart that bleeds for his family sitting here with him, he knows what he’s gonna do.

Be a father.

Be a partner.

Be a friend, a son, a lover, a teacher, a student, a listener, a provider, a protector.

Be everything he hasn’t been for nearly a decade.

He is going to be there for you two. No matter what.

The two of you are back in the hotel room, Liliana dropped off safely at her home and promptly reminded of the schedule for tomorrow. Javier threw her a, “Don’t be too hungover,” that you rolled your eyes at, the faintest of smiles on your face, knowing exactly how Javier was at his own graduation. You, unknowingly pregnant with Lili at the time, were feeling sick and extremely nervous to be seeing his parents the next day, so there was no drinking for you that night. The next morning you were rubbing his back as he threw up before dragging him into the shower and then dressing him like a doll.

He remembers the only thing he was thinking that morning was how much he loved you, how much he was going to miss you after moving home to Laredo to become a sheriff while you were finishing school the next year.

Life seemed so simple back then; only had to worry about visiting his girlfriend at the weekends, showing up for work on time, and taking care of his parents.

A few weeks later, you told him you were pregnant.

God, how fast was time moving? He feels like that was merely last year.

“Bathroom’s all yours, Jav.”

He looks up from his duffel to see you walking out in your pajamas, a smirk crossing his face at the faded Texas A&M shirt he recognized from his own closet from years before. With a nod to you, he unbuttons his shirt halfway before talking to you over his shoulder.

“I can take the floor, amor. You take the bed.”

A loud laugh from behind turns him around, and you look at him like he’s got about four heads.

“Javier Luis, you’re not going to be able to get up in the morning if you sleep on the floor, viejo. If it’s weird for you to sleep in the bed with me, I’ll be the one to take the floor.”

“No, you’re not. And it’s not weird for me, I just didn’t know if you would be comfortable with it.”

“Don’t know if you forgot, but we have slept in the same bed together before, Jav. It’s kind of how we have a daughter, you dork,” you snort and climb onto the plush mattress, slipping under the duvet and leaning up against the pillows.

“Hey, I was trying to be a gentleman, no need for the name-calling.”

“You are always a gentleman, hon, no need to try. Plus I have to call you names, who else will keep you humble?”

“Our daughter. That’s who. I think she’s worse than you with the jokes,” he laughs.

Your smile widens, laughing along with him and shrugging, “I wonder where she gets that from.”

A wink is sent his way, stirring his stomach before he clears his throat and nods to the bathroom, “Gonna get ready for bed, you all done in there?”

“Yeah, yeah. Go for it,” you wave toward the bathroom, grabbing your book from the nightstand.

Javier makes quick work of brushing his teeth and the rest of his night routine, avoiding his tired reflection before shutting the lights out and going back into the bedroom. Book still in your hand, he stands in his jeans again, rubbing the back of his neck. Without looking up you pat the spot next to you.

“I know you sleep in your boxers, just get in the damn bed.”

Ever since you became a mom, your power of reading his mind has gotten way too good.

Well, maybe it isn’t perfect cause if you could read his mind, you probably wouldn’t have suggested sharing a bed again with the amount of time he spends thinking about you.

“Sometimes it makes me mad how often you know what I’m going to say,” he grumbles and shucks off his jeans leaving them at the side of the bed and climbing under the covers. He stays comfortably at the side of the bed, sighing deeply as he closes his eyes. 

“Comes with experience.”

“Why can’t I do it for you then?” He opens his eyes and turns onto his side to look at you, “I’ve known you just as long as you’ve known me.”

The book in your hands is closed, and laid in your lap, looking down at Javier and shrugging, “You have your own way of it. I might know what you’re going to say, but you always anticipate everyone’s needs and you’re always one step ahead of me. I mean, you always see like four steps ahead. You saved Lili many broken bones at the playground growing up and you always used to be able to cheer me up and fix whatever was making me sad or angry before I really even knew what it was myself.”

A grin slowly pulls the corners of your lips apart, one of your hands reaching over to tap the top of his head. 

“Well, I quickly learned the signs of your hangriness. That was most often the reason you were upset,” he chuckles, one side of his mouth ticking up as he relaxes further into the bed.

Comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you read your book for a few more minutes, Javier lying next to you and trying, half-assed, to fall asleep. He really was just sneaking glances at you every time he adjusted positions, admiring the concentrated look on your face, engrossed in the story.

At one point, the book was shut for the night and set on the nightstand, the lamp clicked off and you relaxed back into bed. You turned on your side to face him, voice whisper quiet, “You asleep, Jav?”

He hums lowly, vibrations absorbed by the mattress before his eyes peel open and adjust to the darkness.

“Not yet. Qué pasa, amor?”

“Did you quit smoking?”

“Uh, I guess so, yeah. Why are you asking that now?”

“Just curious. I didn’t see you dip outside to smoke at all today and you got a non-smoking room, too. Very un-Javier.”

“Oh, is that all I am to you, esposa? A smoker?” He has a lilt of teasing in his voice, raising his eyebrows as you laugh faintly.

“Shut up, I didn’t say that.” There’s a gentle shove to his shoulder before your hands are back by you, tucked under your chin as you curl up again.

“I was going to congratulate you on quitting, but now I’m not sure if I want to, meanie.”

“You’re the one randomly questioning me about my habits! Meanie.”

“I am not a meanie, I had no bad intentions!”

“Sure, and what would you have said if I told you I didn’t quit?”

Javier gives you a satisfied smirk when you’re silent, shaking his head to himself.

“Knew it,” he rolls onto his back, hand resting on his stomach and turning his head to the side, “I quit ‘cause Lili called me before I came home and asked me to. She’s asked for a while, but I kept putting it off with the stress of work and everything. Thought now’s the time after I resigned.”

In the darkness, he suddenly feels your hand on his bicep closest to you, rubbing up and down slowly.

“You’re a good dad, Jav. The best. Glad you’re the one I got to have a kid with.”

If he says anything now, it will come out incoherent from the lump sitting in his throat. Instead, he hums in response, nothing else spoken until you’ve fallen asleep.

“I’m glad it was me, too.”

It is hot as fuck.

He’s trying so hard not to sweat his ass off while in the cattle of people funneling into the arena at this moment, attempting to keep his light beige button-up dry. He was going to wear his normal uniform of jeans and a short-sleeved shirt when he heard the weather report on the TV this morning, but your face when you saw him pull out navy slacks and his long-sleeved shirt that he packed, was too excitable and adorable to not wear anything else — “We’ll be matching! Our pictures will be so cute with Lili in her white dress.” Standing in your floral, mid-length navy dress, who was he to deny you those coordinated photos? 

Things had been much more…familiar since last night and this morning. It was the back and forth that was effortless, the fall into a perfectly choreographed routine — him anticipating your moves and you knowing what he was thinking before he could even ask a question. The close quarters of the shared room suddenly felt much too large to Javier; he was desperate for too small of space so he could stay close to you, but with 15 years of experience living together, and even longer dating, you moved too in sync with each other to collide.

He was close to you this morning, though, waking up at the sound of the alarm clock next to his side of the bed; his arm moved to shut it off, coasting along your hip and thigh before reaching behind him to stop the noise. A grumble from you pulled him back, positioning himself again on his side and adjusting the arm that ended up underneath your head, his chest enveloping your back when his other arm slung around your waist. If he closed his eyes, he could swear it was any other morning from before Colombia, stretching all the way back to his bed in his shitty college apartment that you tolerated spending nights in.

There isn’t a thing in this world he wouldn’t give to be able to have this wake up every day from now on.

He knows he needs to talk to you, to tell you all that he is feeling, but he can’t bring himself to do it now. Not before his daughter’s college graduation when the two of you are getting along like old friends. The peace shouldn’t be disrupted by you potentially rejecting him.

Which has brought him standing behind you in the crowd of parents and families, a hand on your lower back to keep a tab on you as everyone filters in through the doors. He keeps his eyes scanning out of habit, searching for a danger that surely isn’t there, while you chat away with Chucho walking directly next to you.

His attention is elsewhere, anxiety creeping into his bones at the masses gathering here, impossible to keep tabs on everyone. The three most important people to him are in this building, and he has no means to protect them if something happened—

No. Enough. This isn’t Colombia. There are no sicarios here.

It’s supposed to be an enjoyable day.

The thoughts circle in his mind as a mantra while the three of you find seats, Javier tailing with you in the middle of him and his father. You sit at the end of one row, holding the same order when you finally take your seats.

Smoothing your skirt, Javier watches as you turn to Chucho, giving him an update about something that was recently repaired in the house.

“Wait, you had to get a new water heater? Why didn’t you tell me you needed one?” he interjects with an edge, brow furrowing as he grills you.

“Jav, it was fine, Pops helped me call around for quotes and we found a good deal. It was solved in like two days. It didn’t seem like it was something I needed to make a long-distance phone call for,” you sigh defeatedly, leaning back and looking down at your nails, fidgeting with your fingers at his harshness.

Javier rolls his eyes, grumbling under his breath, “I should have known. Could’ve helped with it…Eres tan terca. Nunca pides ayuda, incluso si la necesitas. Terca. (You are so stubborn. You never ask for help, even if you need it. Stubborn.)”

Chucho stretches an arm behind your back, hitting his shoulders to sit up and addressing him with a stern tone.

“Mijo, no te pongas tan quisquilloso. Ella no quería preocuparte todo el camino allí abajo. Disculpas. (Son, don't be so oversensitive. She didn't want to worry you all the way down there. Apologize.)”

His jaw ticks to the side, sitting up straight, and shaking his head. With a sigh, he turns to you, leaning closer to speak without his father overhearing.

“I’m sorry, amor. I didn’t mean to be rude; I get frustrated not being around to help you with stuff like that. Shouldn’t have taken it out on you like that. ‘M glad Pop was there to help if I couldn’t.”

Your hand rests on his thigh, patting lovingly as you respond at the same level as him, “Next time, I’ll call you first, Jav. And then you can be the one to call Chucho for actual help.”

A smirk grows at your jest, and he falls back into his seat with a scoff.

“God, you are ruthless. Always with the jokes, esposa. Don’t know if I should be sticking around if it’ll be like this,” he chuckles, stretching an arm behind you and resting it on the back of your chair. 

“Yeah, yeah. We both know you’re gonna be around a lot more now.” His head snaps to the side to see you looking ahead with the faintest of smiles, biting back a much wider one as you lean back into his arm.

After a processional to Pomp and Circumstance, all three of you waving madly to Liliana when she spotted you in the crowd, the ceremony proceeds with little fanfare. Speeches are made, congratulations extended to all of the students from various faculty members and the special guest speaker. When it finally came time for conferring of degrees, Javier awaits the long line of A though O names. The three of you stand, watching the handful of students ahead of Lili cross the stage.

The dean of her college stands at the microphone, saying with a rehearsed smile, “Liliana Raquel Peña, Summa Cum Laude.”

At the announcement of her name and honors, the three of you erupt in cheers for the young woman crossing the stage. Javier whistles with his fingers, holding out the sound as long as he can before clapping his hands together wildly. Once Lili is descending the stairs and back to her seat, you all wave to her again as she beams up at you and shows off her diploma folder.

The moment he’s seated again, he turns his head to the side, seeing your faint tears streaking your face. On instinct, he reaches for your hand before he can second guess it and laces your fingers together with a gentle squeeze. A pitiful laugh slips out from you when you look back at him, a blubbering smile parting your lips.

Javier leans closer to you, centimeters from your ear to confide, “I think you did an amazing job raising our girl, amor. Thank you.”

In the back room of a local restaurant, the Peña extended family mills about, filling the room with sound from the music over the speakers and everyone chatting and catching up with each other — especially congratulating the guest of honor.

Aunts and uncles and cousins that were available have all flocked together to celebrate Liliana, and despite the overwhelming urge to Irish exit this party because of the constant comments and questions about Colombia, Javier is staying until you’re ready to leave. Which undoubtedly will be until the end of your reservation.

He sits at one of the tables pushed to the side of the room, sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms and crossing his limbs over his chest as he reclines in the wooden chair. Buttons of his shirt have been undone post-photos with the grad, the air conditioning cooling his sun-baked skin. His fingers can still feel the phantom of your linen dress, his hand affixed to your lower back in all of the photos taken.

Easily, with a quick scan of the room, he finds you talking to his mamá’s sister, Tia Rose. You’re smiling brightly, the crinkles at your eyes showing off your joy as his aunt surely is congratulating you or complimenting you on how you raised your daughter.

He really meant what he said at the ceremony. There is no way he could have done what you managed if you were the one to have left for work. You were a fucking hero to him, not himself. He’s been hearing it over and over every time he returns home — “You’re a hero, Javier.”

It’s complete bullshit.

His results were rigged, the system played him as much as he supposedly played it.

When he thinks about being a hero, he doesn’t think about anything close to what he’s done. He thinks about sacrifice, compassion, strength — you have it all. You’ve saved him from himself time and time again, and you’ve done it all while being a working mom and dealing with your partner, your co-parent, being thousands of miles away for years.

“Ay, mijo, estás tu cabeza en las nubes otra vez? (Son, is your head in the clouds again?)” Javier looks up to his right at the sound of his father’s voice, standing to offer him help into the chair next to him but waved off with a grumble from Chucho.

“Is it that easy to tell, Pop?” he asks, a half-hearted smile on his face as he retakes his seat.

“Eh, to me, yes. Probably to your girls, too, but I think anyone else would think you’re doing your sulky, pendejo act.”

“Pendejo act? Don’t think it’s an act at this point, Pop. Been feeling like one more and more.”

“Sí, y por qué es eso? (Yeah, and why is that?)”

“Estoy ausente (I’m absent.)”

“Dios, Javier…” his father sighs and shakes his head, turning his head to look at his son, “You are not absent. Quit telling yourself that, or you really are going to be. You’re home now, so be home.”

“It is a blessing to have Liliana at home for this summer, spend as much time as you can with her…And you know how I feel about mi nuera (my daughter-in-law).”

Javier sighs, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees and find you in the crowd again. As if you can sense his eyes on you, you turn toward him and give him a tender smile that quells his near constant nervous energy.

God, it’s unfair how beautiful you are.

And how kind, and forgiving, too.

This conversation is making him want a cigarette. Really bad.

Instead, he pulls the plastic packet out of his pocket, popping out another chiclet of gum and tossing it in his mouth.

He prepares for a lecture from his father; Chucho seems to know a lot more about you these days than Javier. Every week since he left for Colombia, you’ve gone over to Chucho’s house for dinner at least once. With Liliana away at school, you still went. It filled Javier’s heart with a syrupy, oozing warmth whenever he thought about the relationship you have with his father. How you 're always going to be family, a daughter to him, after your parents cut you off those twenty-something years ago.

“She’s still coming over every week, y’know. Didn’t seem to be doing too great until about two weeks ago. Came over after she received a phone call. Was all excited and basically bouncing off the walls. I asked her why, and she said she got some exciting news. You know what it was?”

“Qué?”

“You coming home. I think you called to confirm your flights with her, and she was just so excited, mijo. Cooked your favorite for dinner that night—“

“Pollo asado?”

“Sí, con mole.”

“Mierda, estoy celoso. (Shit, I’m jealous.)”

Chucho laughs from his belly, shaking a bit in the seat as he reaches up and adjusts his cowboy hat.

“It was delicious, as always,” Javier hums in acknowledgement before his father continues, “But I’m not telling you all of that just to tell you what I had for dinner. I’m telling you cause I need you to get your head out of your ass and talk to her. Anyone with eyes can see how in love with her you still are. I wanted you to know that there’s something there for her, too. Hazla mi nuera de verdad. (Make her my daughter-in-law for real.)”

“I’ll talk to her, Pop. Don’t need a wingman, so please don’t say anything to her. Please.”

Chucho stands and shrugs, nonchalantly closing with, “If you don’t do it soon, I’m taking matters into my own hands and telling her myself how lovesick you are. I will not make any promise I cannot keep, so you better keep that one if you don’t want me involved, mijo.”

Javier stays put as his father filters into the party-goers, shaking his head as he smiles to himself.

Maybe he does still have a chance.

The end of the night was fairly uneventful, everyone saying their goodbyes and final congratulations to Liliana. You insisted on helping to set the room up as you had all found it, correcting the tables and chairs back to their usual positions. When you were about to start taking dishes back to the kitchen, Lili rolled her eyes and walked out to the front of the restaurant while Javi grabbed you by your hips from behind and physically directed you out of the room.

“Jav, I feel bad, we made a mess! Let me help!”

“Esposa, you are wonderful and so sweet, I’m sure they appreciate your help. But this is a restaurant, cariño, and you don’t get paid to work here so I don’t think they’re gonna want to be liable for you,” he slides his hands up and down a few inches of your sides, dragging the fabric of your dress up and letting it fall back when he takes his hands off of your sides, placing one on your back.

Javier helps you into the cab of his truck, you taking the middle of the bench and Lili following into the passenger side to be able to get out easier. He drives over to Lili’s house, dropping her off with both of you giving massive hugs and final congrats for the day.

It was a quiet car ride to the hotel, but you ended up back in the middle seat closest to Javier, leaning your head on his shoulder.

Walking into the building, he bit the inside of his cheek as he brushed your hand with his, no recoil from his touch giving him the confidence to take your hand completely in his. Fingers intertwined as you both got in the elevator, tender, unspoken words in your eyes.

Now, Javier sits at the edge of the bed, a short plastic cup in his hand filled with half a mini bottle of champagne. There’s a matching cup in your hand, standing in front of him as he looks up at you with worshiping eyes.

“Cheers, Jav. Good on us for getting our kid through college,” you say with a smile, the sound of plastic crinkling in your hands following your little toast. Each of you takes a sip of the drink, Javier leaning around you to set his down on the desk. His hands move to hover at your waist, your permission granted with a small step to stand between his opened legs.

Javier’s calloused palms catch on your dress again, inching the fabric up as his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. He looks up at you while you return the stare down at him, your free hand finding the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Thank you, amor. For taking on so much more responsibility and shouldering the weight of raising Lili Pad in her teens, and getting her into a great school, and supporting her throughout these last four years when I couldn’t—

“Jav, it was both of us.”

“No, please let me give you the credit you deserve, esposa. You did it all without ever being angry with me, and you always supported me, too. And every time I’ve come back for a visit, you make it seem like I never left with how welcome you make me feel.”

“You’re always a part of our family, Jav. Always.”

He nods, feeling his chest tighten at your words, gripping you tighter as if you’re going to slip away, as if he’ll wake up and this whole trip will have been a dream, as if he will be stuck in Colombia, or forced to go back to the DEA and work in Mexico.

“Thank you, really, thank you for always making me feel a part of it all from so far away. All the photos, all the letters, the birthday cards, and care packages…You are a great mother, and an even better woman. So much better as a person than I ever could be, and I am so lucky that you chose me to have a kid with. Lili is incredible because she’s part of you. Thank you, amor, you have given me a life I don’t think I deserve.”

His head drops, tugging you closer to rest his forehead against your stomach. Silence blankets the room, your fingers running through his hair soothingly. After a moment, you take his chin between your index and thumb, turning his head up to look at you again.

Javier wants so badly to be able to read your mind right in that second, the look in your eyes puzzling him. As he opens his mouth to say something, anything, to fill the air, you’re folding forward and catching his lips in a kiss. It’s light, too faint for his needs, and you’re pulling away much too quickly. His spine elongates, chasing your mouth before you can get too far and locking you in a breathless exchange.

His hands paw at your sides, a desperate attempt being made to pull you as close as possible while also running his hands along your curves. In the surprise of it all, getting lost in his lips, you drop the cup in your hand. Champagne splashes onto your feet, ignored as Javier lifts your mid-length dress to your hips, climbing back on the bed and pulling you over him without breaking your kiss.

Your knees cage his thighs in, settling on his lap as he slots his lips around your bottom one, tracing along it with his tongue. Parting with a gasp, your mouth opens to let him in, melding your tongues together. A whimper escapes from you when he tugs you further onto his lap, feeling his bulge in his slacks press against your core.

Javier pulls away from your lips, dragging his nose along your cheek and leaving a trail of wet, open mouth kisses along your jaw. At the spot on your neck close to your ear, he sucks a mark, smirking against your skin when your back arches and squeezes your chest against his.

“Fuck, Jav…” you sigh, fingers tangling into his hair.

He hums against your skin, pulling away and kissing under your chin.

“You’re so beautiful, amor. I missed you so fucking much. Thought about you all the time.”

“Yeah? What did you think about?” Your voice is  shaky when Javi drops his hands to your hips, starting to drag them back and forth against his cock straining against his zipper. 

“Mm, thought about how good you smell all the time, how sweet you taste…how much I miss having you in my bed every night. Being able to have you when I need you,” a groan slips from his mouth at your moan, moving your hips faster the more he talks, “I thought about how fucking stupid I was to leave someone like you behind. Mi vida, la luz de mi vida (My life, the light of my life)…felt like I left half of my soul when I went away.”

From above, you lean down to catch him in a passionate kiss, breathy exhales and muffled moans exchanged while your fingers work as the buttons on his shirt. Javier leans forward, shrugging off the materials before his arms are around you again, snaking around your back to grip your ass.

“Jav, I missed you so much. Never felt the same, there was always something missing…I always needed you. I always need you.”

“Mi amor, lo siento (My love, I’m sorry). I’m here now. Never leaving again.” His hands roam to your sides, finding the zipper of your dress on his left and pulling it down. He bunches the skirt of it in his hands and slowly takes it off over your head; he’s faced with you sitting in his lap, no bra and only panties on.

As if magnetic, his hands fly right back to your sides, skimming up until his thumbs lay under your breasts, fingers splayed along your rib cage.

“You’re so beautiful, mi amor, so fucking beautiful. Can I make you feel good, baby?”

“Please, Jav, need you so bad.”

“Oh, baby, mi esposa, I’ve got you. Get on your back, cariño.”

Javier watches as you move off of him and fall back onto the bed, the plush duvet sinking underneath you and pillowing out at your sides.

An angel in the clouds.

No more time is wasted as he tugs you to the edge of the bed, kneeling on the floor and booting your legs over his shoulder to open you up.

“Wait, Jav, here.” You twist to the side and stretch to reach for one of the pillows, giving it to him with a thoughtful smile.

“For your knees, viejo. Not a twenty year old athlete anymore, hon.”

Javier rolls his eyes and moves to kneel on the pillow, already feeling better in his joints from the cushion. He wraps his arms around your thighs and nips close to your panties, rolling out a groan.

“Sometimes, I hate when you’re right.”

“That’s ‘cause you always have to be right, Peña. It’s always been th—“ you trail off into a moan when his fingers prod through your wetness, one hand hooking your underwear to the side.

“I don’t always have to be right, esposa. You know you’re the boss out of the two of us,” he winks before he tugs your panties off of your legs, settling back between your legs.

You nod, sitting up and leaning your weight on one arm to look down at him.

“Mhm, glad y’know your place still, Jav,” you tease as your other hand pushes his hair away from his forehead, a smirk mirrored onto his face, “Make me come, mi esposo.”

You can see his eyes darken, breaths shallowing. Feather light kisses scatter across your inner thighs until he reaches your core, pursing his lips and blowing cool air against your wetness.

“Fuck, cariño, guess you did really miss me. So fucking wet. All for me?”

“Javi,” you whine, scooting your hips closer to him, “Please, need you.”

“I know, baby, I know. I can see how much you need me.” He licks one long stripe from your tightest hole to your clit, groaning at the taste of you. “You want me to play with your sweet pussy, mi amor? Make you feel so good?”

“Please, please, Jav.”

He soothes you with circles on your lower stomach, nodding as he lays his head on your thigh, “Don’t worry, baby, I’ve got you.”

Before you can beg out a response, his lips are attached to your clit, sucking hard before laying his tongue flat against it, moving slow circles around.

His muscle memory guides him to fall into the pattern that he memorized to get you off with his mouth and fingers, pushing one of his thick fingers inside of your cunt knuckle deep and stroking against that same spot he knows drives you wild.

Your back arches off the bed, pressing your clit into his tongue harder. He slurps up your wetness, sighing at your familiar taste that he missed so much. Another finger is added, the rhythm of their thrusts building up faster and faster. Right at the edge, your fingers tangled in his hair tugging hard, he switches positions, tongue plunging inside of you and fingers rubbing quick circles into your clit. Before you can even register, you're coming around his mouth, flooding his tongue and his lips.

“Javi, oh my god, fuck me…”

He leads you through the orgasm, pulling away with a boyish smirk.

“That’s kind of the plan, hermosa. Gonna fuck you.”

You roll your eyes, beckoning him to stand up. Sitting up fully, you strip him of his slacks and boxers, briefly taking him in your mouth before he’s pulling you off of him and pushing you further up the bed. Climbing over you, a heady kiss is shared as he settles between your legs. In the moment, you easily get him onto his back, moving to straddle him as he looks up at you breathless. Large hands hold tightly to your thighs, jaw dropping as you grab his hard cock and easily slip him inside of you, sinking down until he’s full hilt.

“Fucking Christ, amor. Take my cock so well, show me what you can do.”

Your hips find a slow, aching rhythm that makes you both breathless. As you continue to grind yourself around him, you lean forward and press yourself against his torso, skin sticking to skin.

“Jav—Javier, you are such a good man. I never doubted how much you loved me. How much you do love me,” you breathe out, hips faltering for a moment before you recover.

 “You were always there for us, and I’m so proud of you for going after what you wanted. Making the world a better place…” you move your hips slowly as you ride him, leaning down to press your foreheads together, stuttering but managing to get the words out for him, “You are a great man and an even better father. I couldn’t have chosen a better partner. I love you.”

Javier whimpers and stutters out a moan when you move your hips faster, your hand on his chin keeping his forehead against you. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before opening them, facing you and him whispering back, “Te amo, te amo, te amo. I love you so much, mi esposa. Mi amor. Te amo siempre.”

The sound that leaves you at that moment, hearing his proclamations of love, flips a switch inside of him. The primal need to make you his again, completely. His arm around your hips grips you tighter, feet planted on the mattress behind you. He uses the leverage to meet your rhythm with his own thrusts, sweet sounds slipping from your lips egging him on.

Your nails dig into his shoulders and he looks up at you in awe as you arch your back, head falling to the side as your face scrunches up in pleasure.

“Oh, fuck yes, yeah. Right there, ohmygod, papí…”

“Fuck, that’s right, baby,” he says in a drawn out exhale, hammering his hips up into you, “Say it again, mi amor. Say it again.”

“Papí—Feels so good, papí.”

“Yeah? Haven’t heard that one in a while, baby. Love it coming from you, say it again. Please, baby. Por favor.”

“Papí, papí, papí…Harder, please, want it harder.”

“Anything for you, mi amor. I’ll give you anything you want. Fuck this pussy however you want it, whenever you want me.”

One of your hands drops from his shoulder to the mattress, bracing yourself from his unrelenting pace. You’re a whining mess, opening your eyes and looking down at him under you, sweaty and glistening with his wild hair and mustache shiny from your come. Javier rumbles a loud moan of your name, on the verge of a growl when he feels you clench around his cock. 

“Come for me, mi esposa. Let me feel you…” he pulls you flush against him as he fucks up into you, lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “Te amo, mi esposa, te amo. I love you. Love you so much.”

“Pa—Papí, fuck! Oh my god, Javi!” Your head rolls back as you come around him, bounces faltering as you slip against his chest like jelly.

“Fuck, baby, gonna fill you up. You want me inside you all night, mi amor? Want me to make you full of me again?” His lips brush against your ear, whimper and nod in response.

“Yes, yes please, papí. Want you inside.”

“Fuck yes, mi amor. One more time for me, say it one more time.”

“Come inside me…please come for me, papí.”

A moan stutters in his throat as he buries himself fully in you, twitching with each rope he spends. Grip tightening around you, he stays inside of you as he kisses you deeply, pulling away to brush your hair away from your face.

“You have no idea how long I have been wanting to do that again, mi esposa. Te amo, hermosa. I love you.”

“I love you too, Jav. Missed you,” your head lays on his chest, sigh warming his sweaty skin, “Will you be around when we’re home or—“

“Mi amor, you’re gonna have a hard time keeping me away from you and Lili now. I wanna spend every moment I can with you both. My girls.”

It’s a Sunday evening at the Peña ranch, a few weeks after Lili’s graduation. You and her have come over to Chucho’s house for dinner, Javier already there from working the day with his father. He’s mostly over at yours in the evenings, coming over to spend time with Lili, and you, staying for dinner, having movie nights, grilling out. He’s been basking in the slow life, the life of a father that he’s been so desperately craving. It’s been an itch like he has for a cigarette, finally taking an inhale and his nerves melting away as he adjusted to a balance with you two.

Tonight, however, Chucho insisted that you and he keep your weekly get-togethers, despite Javi being home for good now, and the four of you have had dinner around the cozy dining table off of the kitchen. Javier is gathering the dinner plates, Liliana standing to help him clean up.

“Anyone want any dessert? What d’ya have here, Pop?” he looks between his father and you, awaiting an answer.

Before Chucho can say anything, you sit up with a quiet gasp, “Oh, do you have any mangoes, Chuch? I really would love some mango with Tajín. Or some strawberries with honey. Or both.”

You grin up at Javier and he laughs, nodding his head.

“I’ll see what I can do, amor.”

“Y’know, mija, my Lucia always had mangoes around the house when she was pregnant with Javi. She would slice them up and put so much Chamoy and Tajín, you could barely see that it was a mango underneath it all.”

“That honestly sounds perfect right now, I bet Lucia made some kickass mangonadas, too,” you laugh softly, looking up behind you as Javi squeezes your shoulder lovingly.

“Oh, she definitely did. Whole family begged her to make them every time we all got together,” Chucho belly laughs fondly at the memories, nodding to himself, “We thought for the longest time that we were going to have a girl. All Lucia craved were sweets or fruits, and there’s some old wives tale, una fábula, that if your cravings are sweet, it is a girl, and if they’re savory, it’s a boy.”

“Huh, how funny. Guess thinking back, I did crave a lot of chocolate ice cream with Lili.”

“Oh god, I remember being kicked in the middle of the night and having to go to the town over cause they had a 24-hour gas station just to get you some Ben & Jerry’s,” Javier laughs, kissing the top of your head as you shrug.

“And now look, you’ve got the sweetest daughter to ever exist. All thanks to me,” you grin, sending Javi a wink as he finishes gathering the dishes from the table.

He sees his father smiling to himself as Chucho leans back in his chair, Javier retreating to the kitchen to find something for dessert for you while Lili washes up and the two of you at the table strike up some conversation.

Later that week, you gave Javi a call and asked him to come over after he was done on the ranch. He agreed immediately, of course, and couldn’t fight the buzzing excitement he felt to see you again. It took him back to those days before Lili, before the two of you were ever really anything, you calling and asking him over to your dorm room or your apartment. He felt like a giddy teenager again.

He showered quickly and changed before heading over to yours, parking in the driveway of your small three bed house he had bought for you all. At the door, he knocked before using his key to get inside, calling out to you.

“Amor? Lili Pad? Anybody home?”

The pad of footsteps on the tile floors catch his attention, a smile stretching across his face as you come around the corner into the entryway. He kicks off his boots before meeting you in the middle, arms wrapping around you and holding you tightly to his chest. He sighs an exhale, relaxing around your warmth.

“Long day, Jav?”

“You have no idea, mi amor. Had to chase a fucking bull that got loose in the pastures when we were trying to corral all of ‘em. My ass is hurting from having to ride the horse so much.”

You laugh into his chest, pressing a kiss to his shirt before leaning back to look at his face, “Oh your poor butt. You wanna sit on the couch then?”

He hums in confirmation, kissing the top of your head before you lead him into the living room and let him flop down on the sofa.

“Where’s Lili Pad?”

“Oh, um, she’s out with friends tonight. Thought it could be just us…” You join him, sitting with a couple of feet between you two. He can see how tense you are, sitting up straight, fiddling with your fingers, placing a pillow in your lap. Extending an arm out, he holds his hand palm up for you to take.

“I’m more than okay with just us, cariño. What’s going on with you? You seem anxious. Everything at work okay? Everything okay with Lili?” He rubs his thumb across your knuckles after you take his hand, brows knitting with concern.

“Yeah, yeah. Everything is great with Lili. And work is, well, work. No complaints…” your eyes stay trained on your hands together, swallowing before you speak up again, “I actually think it would be easier to show you.”

He feels even more concerned and confused as you stand up, disappearing out of the room for a moment before coming back with a hand behind your back. You don’t sit again, opting to stand in front of him; you bring your hand forward, passing the object to him.

It takes him a minute to register what it is, the last time he saw one this up close being about twenty something years ago.

A pregnancy test.

A positive pregnancy test.

Positive.

“Think we could do as good a second time around?”

You’re pregnant.

He’s going to be a dad again?

He’s going to be a dad again, with you?

He’s going to be a dad again. He gets to have another child with you.

His heart is beating out of his chest, mouth dropped open with no words coming out.

A shake of his head knocks him out of the shock, setting the test to the side and looking up at you with welling eyes.

“I get to be a papá again? With you, mi amor?”

A beaming smile widens on your face, your hands finding the sides of his head as you nod down at him.

“Yeah, honey, you’re going to be a dad, again. Lili’s gonna have a little brother or sister. Much, much younger,” you say with a chuckle.

Javier laughs a little breathless, eyes flickering between your face and your stomach that is eye level with him.

“Oh my god, oh my god, mi amor—Te amo, te amo siempre,” His hand finds her tummy, roaming around in circles, attempting to feel the familiar bump or any side of his baby growing inside there. Soft kisses litter your torso as he pulls you closer, resting his forehead against your ribs.

“I love you too, Jav,” you push back his hair and he stares up at you in wonder, pulling you gently to sit in his lap, “Do you…I mean, I want you to come home. Maybe we can actually get married this time. Have the family life with Lili and the little baby. I know we used to just joke about our fake city hall marriage, but I’ve always wanted that with you, Jav.”

A soft, tender kiss is shared, the two of you holding onto each other. One of Javier’s hands rests on your stomach, his heart already completely overflowing with love for the person growing inside of you. It’s quiet for a moment, both of you sitting with each other in silence. With another kiss, Javi hugs you, your head resting on his shoulder as he whispers in your ear.

“Graciás, mi amor. Thank you — for never giving up on our family. On me. Thank you for giving me everything I could have ever dreamed of. I can’t wait to have another baby with you, they’re gonna be as perfect as you, and Lili. My girls. Te amo, mi esposa, te amo siempre.”

javi's photo board in colombia <3

tagging mutuals that might be interested??

@northernbluess @swiftispunk @johnwatsn @cannolighost @joelsversion @cupofjoel @darkroastjoel @atinylittlepain @beskarandblasters @wannab-urs @jksprincess10 @bearsbeetsbeskar @smokeinherperfume @thetriumphantpanda @atticrissfinch @perotovar @mrsquill @javiscigarette @yazsos @deathwife @pr0ximamidnight @undrthelights @lunapascal @ladamedusoif @haylzcyon

[absurdthirst]

The Cinderella Effect {Javier Peña x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14.2k

Warnings: Stranger sex, fingering, angst, slightly cum kink, semi-public sex, handjob, oral sex (female receiving)

Comments: Meeting up with your boss at a masked ball at the Embassy,  you indulge in a night you never dreamed would happen. For his womanizing, Javier Peña never looked at you. So you never figured that he would go looking for you the day after. 

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers​

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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Javi is bored, sick of these functions for the DEA. If only these department heads actually went out in the field, they wouldn’t be enjoying these swanky parties while their men and women risked their lives, he knows it firsthand how dangerous it is and if he knew how these assholes were partying it up while he was chasing down Escobar, he would’ve lost his shit. Still, he’s one of them now. Lost in the fucking bureaucracy since he’s “too old” for the field. 

He leans against the bar, face itching from the stupid mask he has to use that his assistant bought for him last minute for this masquerade ball. Bunch of bullshit if you ask him. Until he sees her. This woman walks into the ballroom and he is swallowing harshly. Her dress is form fitting but not tight enough to be inappropriate. He can’t help the way his feet move towards her.

**** 

You are nervous as hell, walking into the ballroom, and suddenly your dress feels too tight and the mask is too itchy. You want to rip it off but you can’t, knowing he will recognize you. Your boss, Javier Peña, has for the better part, been the reason you have remained at the DEA. You shouldn’t want him but you do. As his assistant, you help him every day but he doesn’t notice you, too busy with his work and those hookups you know he has with the women from the FBI. He won’t fuck within his department. He’s made that very clear. So tonight is all you have to enjoy yourself, deciding that you’d attend since it’s a masquerade and you can hide behind the mask and hopefully avoid seeing Javier. You want to enjoy yourself tonight, be someone other than yourself.

Javi moves between the couples, touching shoulders and parting the way to where she is standing. She’s aloof, looking around like everyone in the room is beneath her. Maybe they are, although Javi never likes pretentious assholes, she seems regal - like a princess. He snorts to himself, scoffing internally at the idea that a princess would ever attend a DEA function, but still he has to talk to her. She is the one person who has captured his attention and he wants to see if her allure was just skin deep. Making his way to her side, she doesn’t see him at first, allowing him to lean in close and catch a whiff of her seductive perfume. “Looking for someone?” He asks quietly. 

You manage to swallow your gasp as you turn to look at Javier, certain that he will recognize you. “Uh, no - no one in particular.” You answer, wondering if he will recognize your voice.

There is something familiar about this woman, but he can’t put his finger on it. Carefully examining the eyes doesn’t bring any recognition, so he leans a little closer, confidence building now that he knows you're alone. He’s got charm and knows how to use it when he wants to. “Then it’s a good thing that I found you first.” He flirts, keeping his dark eyes on yours beneath the masks. 

You exhale shakily, the words on the tip of your tongue to tell your boss it’s you but you don’t. Maybe tonight, you can be on the receiving end of his flirtations instead of having to manage them for him once he gets bored. You are here tonight to be someone else and that’s what you are doing to do. “Definitely a good thing. Except I need a drink. Would you mind escorting me to the bar?” You ask, a smirk playing on your lips.

The invitation came easy and it makes Javi send you a smirk of his own. Nodding his head to the side, he offers you his arm to take. “What else can I do but escort a beautiful woman?” He asks, pleased when your fingers wrap around the juncture of his elbow. “Although, I would like to know your name.” He turns and steers you towards the open bar in the far corner of the room. 

You let him guide you and you know you can’t give him your name, it would give you up. You’re a little disappointed he doesn’t recognize you, honestly telling you that you don’t matter to him other than in a work capacity, but you’d already known that and tonight is about being someone else. You click your tongue, “ah ah ah. You have to earn my name. I know who you are…the infamous Javier Peña. Maybe I’ll tell you my name once you’ve earned it.” You tease as you approach the bar.

He’s disappointed you won’t tell him your name and slightly uneasy that you know his. His reputation is one that has followed him like a cloud, and he hadn’t done much to change it. Instead of letting it get to him, he grins. “Then I will just have to make sure I earn it, hmm?” He raises a hand when the bartender comes over. 

“What can I get for you, sir?” 

He turns to you, wanting you to order whatever you want first. “Lady’s first.”

You smile at him before you order a whiskey, neat. You want something you can sip and not drink too fast. The last thing you want to do is get drunk and end up telling Javi who you are. He'd be halfway across the room before you can finish your name. He seems impressed with your drink order and you lean against the bar, admiring his profile as he orders the same. 

"So...do you work for the DEA?" He asks, trying to figure out who you are. Maybe you're just party crashing. Which honestly, he would think is hilarious considering the 'security' the DEA tries to uphold. 

"I work for the DEA." You confirm and he tilts his head, "which department?" 

You shake your head, "now that would ruin the mystery. Come on, let's just enjoy tonight." You plead softly, not wanting him to continue his interrogation.

There is a slight pout on his face, but he doesn’t press the issue. “The fact that you don’t want me to know who you are makes you even more impressive in this crowd.” He tells you, glancing around. “All of these fuckers can’t wait to tell you who they are and how much power they wield.” It’s refreshing, although frustrating. He wonders if you are someone he’s slept with in Colombia, narrowing his eyes at the thought. “You were never in Colombia, were you?”

You shake your head, “no. No. I’ve been in D.C for years. As for these men…most of them are insecure and have small pricks that they inflict on their poor mistresses while their wives go around D.C hobnobbing with their counterparts comparing their latest purse their husband bought after his latest affair got discovered.” You snort, having first hand experience. 

You’ve ordered enough “I’m sorry” bouquets for half the men in this room. You have never done that for Javi. As much as his reputation precedes him, he has always been upfront about his intentions, never bs-ing about how he wants a relationship before he turns around and fucks someone else.

Javi chuckles and has to agree. “Sounds like you know all of that firsthand.” He wonders if you are a secretary for one of them, trying to remember what a few of them look like. He’s quit trying to sweet talk any of them, and he doesn’t sleep with anyone around the office anymore after it back fired on him. 

He should have already said a polite “goodnight” to you and walked away, but he finds you irresistible and you don’t seem tired of his company. “I’m sorry you have to deal with that. Men are assholes. I say that as one myself.”

You chuckle, “the women are no better. Most of them try to prove themselves by stepping on each other to impress their male bosses which is bullshit to me. People should get their jobs based on their merits, not if they have a cock or not.” Your eyes widen when you realize how brash you’re being. “I, uh, sorry. Office hierarchy isn’t exactly a party conversation.” You fluster, taking a sip of your drink.

Javi smirks, leaning in to whisper in your ear, “that’s what’s making this fun.” He leans back and takes a sip of his drink. “I admire someone who cuts through the bullshit.” He tells you. “I fucking hate politics.” It’s laughable, considering he had come back to this, unable to settle down and help his pop run the ranch in Texas. 

He knew he hadn't; he couldn't do field work again, but he had taken up the DEAs offer of a position in D.C. wondering how long it would be before his ass landed in hot water again for running his mouth.

You know how much he hates bureaucracy, giving you all of his files to type up because he hates reports. “Me too. All the lies and deception and for what? The bad guys to just have more time to do bad things while we have to cut through the red tape.” You shake your head, “to hating politics.” You toast and he clinks his glass against yours. Your heart thumps at the soft look in his eyes, knowing he has never looked at you like that when you are working with him as his assistant. You swallow another gulp of the amber liquid, ignoring the burn in the back of your throat. 

“You wanna dance?” He asks and your eyes widen. 

“Me?” You ask and he chuckles. 

“No, the gorgeous woman behind you.” You see him roll his eyes and you chuckle nervously, setting down your glass. 

“Sure.” You tell him, taking his outstretched hand.

The song ends and the next one is slower, sensual. Perfect for pulling the mysterious woman into his arms and using it as an excuse to press close to you. Feeling the lines of your body mold against his and leaning in close enough that he could taste the whiskey on your breath. His hand is splayed low on your back, not enough to get him slapped, but enough to feel the curve of your ass. 

“So you hate office politics, like whiskey and keeping a man guessing.” He hums playfully. “What else should I know about the woman in my arms?”

You smile wryly, loving how you have him on edge for a change. “Well, I love having a man on his toes.” You tease and grip his shoulders a little tighter, deciding to be ballsy. “And I - I have always wanted you to touch me.” 

He chuckles, sliding his hands a little lower, “I am touching you.” 

You shake your head and chuckle, “no. No. I want you to touch me.”

Javi’s nostrils flare, picking up on your meaning. “You’ve wanted me?” He asks, thrilled when you nod, his hands tightening on your ass. Blowing out a harsh breath, he looks around for the nearest exit. He knows that he would fuck you right now, his cock is already half hard. “Why don’t we get out of here?” 

You whimper at the way he grabs you, unable to believe he wants you like that. Well, he doesn’t want you. He wants this mysterious woman. For a moment, you panic because you know if you go back to his place, he will want your mask to come off and then he would turn back on fucking you. “Follow me.” You order, grabbing his hand to guide him through the crowd until you are on the balcony that overlooks the Mall. No one is out here, it’s slightly chilly and dimly lit, almost dark.

“Here?” Javi smirks as he looks around, noticing that it deserted beyond the two of you. 

“Here.” You sound almost breathless. He reaches for the bottom of his mask, ready to pull it up and kiss you. “Keep your mask on.” You demand suddenly, making him frown but he doesn’t pull it up. 

“You want to keep the mystery, chica?” He coos, enjoying the playfulness of the situation. It’s been a long time since he has been carefree. This might be exactly what he needs,

“Come here, baby.” You order, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him close and you tilt your head just so you can press your lips to his. It’s thrilling, knowing he wants you. Well, this version of you. He doesn’t want his mousy assistant. You sigh into the kiss when he responds, grabbing your ass again.

Javi presses you up against the stonewall of the building, his tongue sliding into your mouth with a groan. Grinding against you and pressing his hard cock against your hip. “Fuck.” He pants into your mouth after he pulls back slightly.

You cling to him, sliding your hands along his jacket until you can get beneath it, desperate to untuck his shirt so you can touch his skin. His lips are kissing down your neck and you are lost in the sensation of his mustache tickling you. “Oh God, Javi.” You whimper, sliding your hand lower to squeeze his cock, gasping at how big he is.

He groans, wishing he knew your name so he could give you that same feeling, the way he shivered when you moan his name as he pulls your dress up. “Gonna fuck you right here.” He promises, forgetting everything but the way that you are letting him touch you however he wants.

When his fingers slide under your panties, you bite your lip to conceal your moan but he tuts, reaching up with his free hand to release your lip with his thumb. “I want to hear you. No one else can hear you but me.” He assures you and you moan when his fingers slide through your soaked folds until he is rubbing your clit. Your hands shake as you work on unbuckling his belt, anxious to touch him, feel him in any way you can.

Javi bites his lip, loving how wet your cunt is and he can’t wait to slide inside you. It’s been a long time since he had been this eager. Keeping his thumb pressed against your clit while two fingers slide deep inside after circling your entrance to gather up your wetness. “Fuck, you’re tight.” He hisses, pumping his finger into you to stretch you out as he kisses along your neck.

“Oh shit.” You moan at how thick his fingers feel inside of you. It’s incredible and you buck down onto his hand. “I- oh God. It’s been a while.” You admit, having spent far too much time lusting after your boss. You manage to pull his zipper down, reaching in to squeeze his cock. “God you’re big.” You hiss when he curls his fingers just right.

He grunts, not unhappy that you think that he’s impressive. He’s just never really worried about that, but he twitches in your hand. “It’s okay.” He promises. “You’ll cum on my fingers before I fuck you.”

You struggle to pump him with the way his fingers are curling deep inside of you, and you hiss in response, unable to believe how good it feels. “Yes. God, gonna make me cum.” You whine, worked up from the fact that your boss is fingering you.

“Good.” He groans, kissing your pulse before he scrapes his teeth over it. His fingers continue to pump into you frantically, wanting to make you cum. “Want to feel how tight you get.”

You squeeze his cock before your grip slackens as you cum, clamping down on his fingers. “Oh fuck. Jav- oh.” You gasp into his chest as you lean forward to smother your moan. He works you through it until your legs are shaking and he pushes you further into the wall to keep you upright. “Please fuck me.” You plead breathlessly, wanting him inside of you. “I’m on birth control and I’m clean.”

It’s music to his ears, pulling his fingers out of you and wrapping them around his cock. Using your juices to slick himself up and shuffles closer to you. His other hand cups your chin and he makes your eyes meet his. “I want to look in your eyes when I slide inside you.” He tells you as he lines himself up and starts to push inside you.

You lift your leg to hitch it on his hip to allow him more access to your pussy as he pushes into you. It takes your breath away and you are speechless as he stretches you out. Your eyes are on his brown - nearly black - ones and you can’t look away as he groans softly. “Javi.” You moan, eyelashes fluttering with the effort to keep your eyes open.

He knows that voice. He’s heard it, but right now all he can focus on is the way that your cunt grips him. Your whimper when he is firmly buried inside you is beautiful and he pauses for just a second, enjoying the way you flutter around him before he starts to move. Hard, deep thrusts, designed to get both of you off before anyone comes outside.

You pant as he starts to move, biting your lip to stop yourself from crying out too loudly, and you cling to him, arms wrapped around his neck as he moves his hip. “Oh God. It’s so good.” You whine, already close because of the way he’s grinding deep.

He groans, loving how vocal you are being. The solid slap of his hips muffled by the rucked up material of your dress and his suit pants. “Tight.” He hisses, turning his head and kissing along your jaw before he bites down on it gently. “So fucking tight.”

The way he bites your jaw and the unhinged sound of his growl has you cumming. Clamping down on his cock as you surge forward to bury your face in his neck, muffling the cry of his name as you soak his cock, your leg shaking as you try to remain standing.

Eyes closing, Javi pushes his hips harder, sloppily chasing his own end while you cling to him. It’s wet and tight, making him grit his teeth while he pushes into you despite the tight grip of your walls around him. “Fuck.” He hisses quietly, feeling his own body start to cum. He pushes deep, grinding up into you as he remembers that you said you are on birth control. Gasping in your ear while his cock twitches, sending ropes of his hot seed deep into your womb.

You sigh in bliss when his cum paints your walls, loving the grunts and groans that escape him. You’ve always wondered how he sounds when he cums. “So good.” You coo, rubbing his shoulders as he stills inside of you, riding his high.

Javi loves kissing when he cums, loves having his lips on his partner in some way. Moving from your ear along your jaw, he kisses his way to your lips and gives you a surprisingly tender kiss for someone who just fucked a stranger against the wall of the building during a work party. “I’ll never look at Cinderella the same way.” He teases, his cock starting to soften inside you before he gives you one last kiss and starts to slowly pull out of you.

You chuckle, lost in the aftermath of your orgasm until you realize what you’ve just done. You just had sex with your boss at a party. “Oh shit.” You close your eyes and he lowers your leg, adjusting your panties to keep his cum inside of you. “I, uh, I have to go.” You rush out, pushing on his chest to get away from the wall, and you manage to get under his arm as he steps back. “I had such a good time but I’ve got to go, Javi.” You tell him, not looking back as you enter the ballroom, pushing through the crowd to get away from your boss. He can’t find out who you are now, it’s impossible. He would never want the mousy version of you, he has never shown interest. You got one night with him and that will have to suffice.

****

Javi groans in relief as he hears his secretary arrive outside the door to his office where her desk is located. It’s been a long night. After being left by the mystery woman at the party, he hadn’t been able to go home. Instead he had gone to his office, a spare suit hanging in the closet for later, although he’s still wearing the dress shirt and pants from the suit he wore to the masquerade party. The shirt sleeves rolled up and another fucking cigarette between his lips as he tries to search the computer records for every woman who is assigned to the DEA here. He wants to find her again, to ask her why she fled and it’s eating at him.

You are nervous when you enter Javier’s office, then shocked when you see him still wearing the clothes from last night. He never went home. You frown and step closer to his desk. “Good - good morning sir. Would you like a coffee?” You ask. He nods, not even looking up from the screen of his computer. You exit the office without a word so you can get his coffee, coming back to softly set it down on his desk.

Coffee is a godsend. He can’t figure out how to use that new fucking machine in the break room. Too many knobs and buttons. When had coffee machines become so fucking difficult? You put coffee grounds in a filter and add water to a pot, turn it on. So right now, the hot, steaming cup of joe is a lifesaver. He moans happily after the first tentative sip, the scalding liquid providing an instant jolt of alertness. Setting it back down, he calls your name to summon you back into his office. Barely looking up when he sees the flash of movement where you come into the doorway. “I need the files on all the women in this building.” He tells you. “The computer doesn’t provide a picture.”

Your eyes widen slightly at his order, grateful he doesn’t see your reaction. “All - all the women? Why?” You ask, knowing the answer but you want to hear it. You can’t believe he doesn’t feel any recognition towards you but you suppose that justifies your reason for running out. 

“I need to find someone.” He tells you, still not looking up. 

“Yes sir. I’ll work on that now.” You say and walk out of his office, turning to look at him as he scrolls. You sigh, knowing he’d never want that woman if he knew she was you.

Javi sighs, leaning back and reaching up to toss off the drugstore reading glasses you had left on his desk one day. He uses them, even though he hates admitting it. He rubs his eyes, wondering why he is going through this, the woman ran away from him. Maybe it was the fact that she had left, that he had been the one to be left looking at where someone had been. Or maybe it was how unburdened he had felt in those minutes he was buried inside her. He just knows he wants to talk to her again.

You return a while later with his lunch and the files. Javi has the same thing for lunch every day: a couple of cigarettes and a cup of coffee. Sometimes he will stretch to a candy bar from the machine if he’s feeling particularly frustrated. Today is one of those days. You set the files down - conveniently missing yours - along with his lunch and you wonder why he’s trying so hard to find the woman - find you.

“Thanks.” Javi barely looks up, but he flashes you a grateful smile. “I’ll let you know if I need anything else, but you can knock off early.” He has no need for you to hang around when he’s planning on going through these files. Slight waste of government resources but he doesn’t care right now.

You frown slightly, unsure of if you feel relieved or peeved that he is completely dismissing you. Deciding to wallow at home, you accept his dismissal and quickly grab your things, leaving with a soft 'goodbye' to your boss. Once you're home, you sit and stare at the dress, hanging up on the back of your bedroom door and you are reluctant to put it away for surely then you know that last night was a dream, something that will never happen again.

She’s not there. Javi tosses the last file on the desk and huffs in anger. He’s gone through every single one of them, never finding the woman that he had met at the party. Unless she lied about working for the DEA, she wasn’t there. Standing up, he groans as joints pop, twisting his back and groaning in relief when it pops and there is some relief. He’s getting too fucking old for sitting all day. 

Walking out of his office to find the security badge of his secretary sitting on the desk, left behind by accident when you had left for the day. He picks it up, meaning to take it to your house since you will have a hell of a time getting in the building tomorrow without it. Looking down, his eyes narrow. “Son of a bitch.”

****

You are startled by the banging on your front door, grabbing your bat from under your bed, you slowly approach the door, looking through the peephole. When you see it's Javi, you lower the bat and place it in the hall, but you can't deny that you are terrified about why he's here. He knows, he has to know. You clear your throat, gathering your strength as you open the door to your boss. "Javi." You say politely as you keep your hand on the door frame.

His jaw is clenched, brows knitted together and he is pissed that you are greeting him so casually. The badge, the clear picture of you displayed on the front - without the glasses or the timid look on your face - is thrusted towards you. “You forgot this.” He spits it, wondering if you are going to tell the truth or keep playing him for a fucking fool.

“Oh. Th- thank you.” You take it, confused about why he’s so furious. He hasn’t said anything yet and you wonder why he’s so mad. Perhaps he’s disappointed that it’s you. 

“Can I come in?” He asks, jaw clenched and you nod, stepping aside to let him into your home.

Striding in, Javi looks around the small apartment, taking it in, and is surprised that it’s not as mousy as the facade you put on at work. It confuses him, how you seem so timid and unassuming while you have worked for him, only to trick him into fucking you against a wall at work. It was you, it had to be and he was furious that he had broken the one rule he had promised himself he wouldn’t. “Nice place.” He tells you shortly, turning around and looking at you after you close the door behind him.

You sigh, coming to the conclusion that he knows. "What gave it away?" You ask softly, leaning against your front door for support as you feel his dark eyes burn into you. "I figured - I thought it would take you longer to go through those reports and I - my file wasn't in there." You confess, crossing your arms.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” He hisses, stepping closer with his fists clenched, angry that you’ve put him in this position. “You tricked me.” He knows that it’s technically not true, you didn’t lie to him, but he wouldn’t have touched you if he had known it was you. He has too much respect for you, not wanting to get tangled up in the mess of an office affair. Or damage your reputation. 

Your mouth opens and closes, tears stinging in your eyes at how furious he is. You wonder if he’d be so mad if he found out it was Karen from HR that he always eyes up. “I- I didn’t - I never - it wasn’t supposed to go that far. I just wanted a night out to be someone - to feel like someone different.” You admit, choking a little over your eyes as you see how clenched his jaw is.

“But it did go that far.” Javi reminds you before looking around your apartment again. “So who is the real you?” He demands. “The woman who lives with bold colors and flare and tricks her boss into fucking her? Or the mousy woman who brings my coffee?” He’s not being fair, he was a very willing participant in what happened, but he ignores that right now. 

You wince at his harsh words. “I- I guess - I guess I am both. To be the woman I was last night…I want that kind of confidence and the mask allowed me to be whoever I wanted to be. I just - I am not beautiful enough to get away with that much confidence in reality. You - men - want some sexy assistant to fetch their coffee and I didn’t want to be that cliché. I wanted to become a field agent but they didn’t think I had it in me so I ended up as a secretary. I have been overlooked my entire life and I wanted one night to be the woman that was wanted, instead of being overlooked because I’m not good enough, not beautiful enough.” You finish breathlessly.

Javi’s frown deepens, shaking his head at the bullshit that just came out of your mouth. “Why me?” He asks. “Or would anyone have worked?”

You shake your head, pushing off of the door to walk towards him. “No. No. I- God. No. That’s not - it has always been you. I’ve always wanted you since I started working for you.” You admit, flustered and wanting him to know you didn’t just want sex. “I didn’t go there to see you. I mean, I hoped you’d talk to me but I- I just wanted to have a good time and dance and - oh God. This is such a mess.” You shake your head.

He knows he’s going to regret it, he always does when he thinks with his cock but it doesn’t stop him from reaching for you. Dragging you towards him and covering your mouth with his own in a bruising, yet passionate kiss. He can’t deny that he wants you, especially since you are the woman who had captivated him after last night and he hasn’t stopped thinking about how it felt to be inside you. 

You are shocked for a moment, his mouth pressed against yours but you soon react, moving your lips with his and moaning into his mouth. Your hands tangle in his hair like you’ve always wanted to do and you press yourself against him, letting yourself enjoy this last moment before he likely pushes you away and fires you.

He hasn’t showered, shouldn’t be touching you, but he can’t help himself. His hands grabbing your ass and hauling you closer and sliding up under your shirt to caress your back. You aren’t wearing a bra, the larger sweaters and drab office dresses exchanged for a t-shirt and shorts that expose so much of your skin. His teeth bite down on your lower lip before his tongue slides into your mouth possessively. 

You groan when his tongue touches yours, your entire body feels like it’s on fire and you cling to him, letting him touch you however he wants. You know you should push him away, make him explain, but your need for him is far too great. This is the last time he will touch you like this, certain to end things after. You manage to untuck his shirt, sliding your hands under it to caress his back while his tongue tangles with yours.

Javi groans into your mouth, shuffling you back towards the couch that he had seen. He doesn’t know if can wait to get you back to your bedroom. Desperate to touch you again and see if your cunt was as tight as it had seemed last night. He kisses down your neck and grabs the hem of your shirt, pulling away to pull it up over your head and expose your breasts to the cool air of your apartment. 

“Oh God.” You gasp when his hands grab your tits after he tosses your shirt on the floor. You feel drunk on lust, unable to believe how good everything feels when he pinches your nipple. You scramble to unbutton his dress shirt, needing it off of him while he walks you back towards the sofa, his hands massaging your tits.

Your moans are driving him crazy, tits hot under his palms and he ducks his head down and takes one into his mouth. He shouldn’t be doing this, but the way your cry fills his ears is almost addictive. Biting down on the sensitive tip and sucking on it to soothe after your fingers tangle into his hair again, abandoning touching his chest after you strip his shirt off. 

“Fuck baby.” You whimper when he switches to the other breast. You stumble back and he follows you as you fall back onto your sectional, his body covering yours, and you feel how hard he is when his groin presses against your thigh. You move your leg, loving the groan he pushes into your flesh and you need more. “Javi. Baby. I- I need to see you.” You beg, wanting to see all of him.

Javi rears back, ripping at his belt just like he had last night. Kicking off his dress shoes and standing up so he can push off the pants, along with the underwear he had been wearing. You are laying on the couch, watching with hungry eyes that makes his hard cock twitch. “Fuck.” He hisses, “take off your shorts.” He orders you, unable to do two things at once.

You scramble to take off your shorts, pushing them down along with your panties. Last night, you’d both been fully dressed but now you can see every inch of each other. He’s gorgeous, muscular, and strong but with a small tummy that makes him even sexier, his eyes nearly black as they trail along your figure once you’ve tossed your shorts on the floor.

“Beautiful.” He promises, swallowing when you spread your legs and he can see the puffy lips of your cunt. “You claim you’re not beautiful, but I see a woman who hides it.” He slides his hands along your thighs as he kneels down on the sofa again, desperate to sink into you again, his lips starting at your breasts and kissing up as he moves into position. 

You scoff, “you say that as you’re about to fu- oh fuck.” Your retort dies on your lips as he pushes inside of you, his lips pressed against your jaw as he sinks deeper into your cunt and you hitch your thigh onto his hip, allowing him to sink even deeper.

He chuckles, enjoying the way that you cut yourself off to moan. His arms hold himself up over you but he ducks down and kisses your lips and then along your jaw. “When do I ever lie?” He asks you, to remind you of how blunt he can be with his other liaisons on what he is looking for. His hips push deeper and he grinds into you before he pulls out of you to push back inside with another groan, delighted to find you are as tight as he thought you were last night. 

You caress his back as he rocks into you, your heart thumping at his words and you force yourself to not read too much into it. “God, you feel so good baby.” You whimper, closing your eyes and tilting your head back to allow him more access to your neck.

He grunts, agreeing with you. You feel like a glove around him, making his eyes close every time you flutter those tight little walls around him. “Fuck.” He breathes against your skin. “Thought about this all night. How good you felt.” He confesses, nipping at your skin again. 

“That- that's why you wanted to find me? Because I’m tight?” You tease breathlessly, stomach clenched from how he’s hitting every spot inside of you with ease. “And you - you wanted to fuck me again.”

“Of course I wanted to fuck you again.” He huffs, lowering himself down to an elbow and presses himself closer. “And you are tight, but I wanted to talk to the sassy woman who captured my attention.” He admits, not sure of what he wanted to do when he found that woman, but wanting to see her again beyond fucking. 

“I’m not- I’m not always that woman.” You confess, looking into those dark eyes as he rocks into you, a moan escaping your lips when he hits something deep that makes your pussy soak him with another wave of arousal. “Because - oh God - because I’m not confident enough.”

“Shit.” He hisses, gritting his teeth at how wet you get. Making him rock into you just a bit harder. “You should be.” He pants out, biting your chin. “It’s sexy.” He has no problem with sassy women, enjoys them over someone who would just roll over for him. A strong woman is one to be admired. 

His words embolden you, making you smile, and you reach down to squeeze his ass, pushing him as he thrusts back into you. “Then I want you to make me cum.” You demand, needing it more than you need air.

Javi groans, reaching down for one of your thighs to press it back, folding it towards your body as he starts to fuck into you harder. Deep, measured thrusts so that he can bottom out inside of you with the loud slap of his hips against yours fill your living room and make your sofa squeak. 

“Oh fuck. Oh my fucking God.” You cry out when he gets a spot you’ve never even felt before. “Javi. Oh God. I’m gonna - I’m gonna -” A strangled cry escapes your lips as you cum, squirting onto his lower stomach and dripping down onto your - thankfully leather - sofa.

“Jesus - fuck.” Javi moans, panting out your name as his thrusts become frantic, unmeasured. Enjoying the way that your cunt sounds as he pushes into it. “Fuck baby.” He moans as he ruts into you once, twice more before he buries himself deep and cums. Grunting as he fills you again like he did last night.

You gasp at the way he cums inside of you again, your nails digging into his back until you smooth your palms over the skin to caress it. Your chest heaving from the pleasure that is now fading and your eyes are still closed as he stills above you. “Fuck that was - wow.” You breathe out, unable to believe how good you feel.

His forehead drops down to press against yours, panting quietly. “Fuck.” He breathes out, body relaxing at the extreme pleasure before he kisses your lips once more. After that, he starts to shift back, pulling out of you and rocking back to sit on the end of the sofa.

You can’t move, body warm and relaxed as you watch him kneel on the sofa. His cum is dripping out of you but you don’t care, too obsessed with the way he looks now that he’s glistening with sweat and his hair is all messy.

Javi leans back, wishing he had a cigarette. He could definitely use one after that. “Fuck.” He sighs, looking up at the ceiling and giving a small chuckle. He had been furious and now…he doesn’t know what he is except tired. He hasn’t slept in the past two days. His hand is on your knee, stroking it idly while he closes his eyes for just a second.

You watch him, wishing you could stay in this moment forever but eventually, you know you need to talk at some point. Talk and not yell. “You want a smoke?” You ask, remembering your stash in your kitchen for when you’re particularly stressed. You have never been an avid smoker but sometimes the occasion calls for it. He nods and you shift, legs shaking as you stand up, “I’ll go get them. They’re in my kitchen.”

Javi shifts, reaching for his pants and sliding back into them. Looking around again and wondering where to go from here. You are still his secretary and he doesn’t know what you want.

You come back a few moments later with the cigarettes and the lighter, searching for your glasses as you watch him light a smoke. “You want one?” He asks and you shake your head, pulling on your oversized t-shirt and panties. 

“I, uh, I know you don’t want to get involved so we can - we can forget this ever happened…if you want.” You fidget, watching him blow out the puff of smoke.

“It’s too late for that.” Javi tells you bluntly. “I’m still your boss and I know how it feels to have my cock inside you.” He sighs, blowing out another breath of the cigarette smoke. “It’s something I’m going to be hard pressed to forget.”

You swallow, part of you thrilled he won’t be able to forget, the other part terrified that he hates the very idea. You bite your lip, knowing you could never have him the way you want him but you could have a part of him. Anything is better than nothing when you’ve been wanting him for so long. You walk over to stand in front of him, the smoke from his cigarette curling up into the air. 

“Or we could continue doing it…having sex. No one has to know except us. I’ll be professional at work, business as usual, and after…you could come over here and fuck me however I want.” You could’ve said “how you want” to sweeten the deal but honestly, you’re sick of denying yourself to please others, it’s time you pleased yourself.

Javi lifts his brow, shocked you had proposed something like that. He had taken you for a relationship or just type of girl. “We could do that.” He tells you, nodding slightly. “I- if people find out about us, they will judge you.” He sighs. “I don’t want that for you.”

You shake your head, stepping closer to run your fingers through his hair. “No one will know. I can keep it a secret. I don’t - I don’t want to stop doing this.” You admit, “and I can make sure we aren’t caught. This remains between us.”

He looks over at you again. “Are you sure you want that?” He asks softly, knowing that most women wouldn’t be happy for that kind of arrangement. “I don’t want you to be unhappy with it, or me.” He flashes you a grin. “You might poison my coffee at the office.”

You chuckle, “no. I wouldn’t do that. I’m a big girl, I know what I’m getting into. I’m not - I’m not dating and I don’t care about chocolates and flowers and dates. I just want you in my bed.” You are truthful to some extent, knowing that this could hurt you but it’s worth the risk, he’s worth the risk.

“Okay.” Javi nods, watching you carefully to make sure you just aren’t saying that. When he’s satisfied, a yawn interrupts what he was about to say, suddenly ready to drop off to sleep now that his search was at an end. “I should go home.” He tells you reluctantly.

“Oh yeah. You must be tired. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you at work tomorrow.” You step away from him and walk towards your front door. You’re not expecting a goodnight kiss, but when he just walks out of your house after picking up his things and grunts out, “see you tomorrow,” you can’t help but sigh. Shutting the door, you walk back into your place and wonder if you’ve done the right thing. Can you keep your heart intact? After washing off, you get into bed and decide that you can stop yourself from getting hurt by remembering who he is…the infamous Javier Peña.

****

Javi leans back in his chair. He’s early, just like he has always been. You aren’t in yet, your desk chair empty and he wonders how you will act when you get there. Last night he had slept the best he had in months, thinking of you when he had closed his eyes.

You carry Javier’s coffee in one hand, the files he wants in the other and your purse slung over your shoulder as you rush down the hall. You’re running late since your alarm decided to reset itself overnight. You exhale shakily as you enter his office, wondering if he will be full of regret now but he offers you a stiff smile as you set his coffee and files down. “Sorry. My alarm didn’t go off.” You reveal, adjusting your purse now that your hands are empty.

His eyes run over your form, knowing how that body looks under the loose dress you are wearing. His cock twitches and he knows that you are so much more than you show everyone else. “It’s fine.” He tells you, nodding. “Go settle in and I’ll call you if I need you.” He tells you as he opens one of the files and picks up the glasses to slip on the end of his nose.

You nod, nearly tripping as you walk out of his office. Cursing yourself for thinking how handsome he is wearing those glasses instead of focusing on walking. You roll your eyes at yourself and sit down, manning the phone and typing those reports he’d given you yesterday. When the intercom buzzes a couple of hours later, you stand up and brush your dress down as you make your way into his office. “Yes sir?” You ask. “Can you get me those files on Santiago?” He asks and you nod, turning around to get them after you say “yes sir.”

It’s been hours since he’s seen you and you’re already a problem. The second you showed up in his doorway his cock started to harden. He had known this was going to happen, that he was going to want you right here. The idea of taking you on his desk was vastly appealing, letting you sit outside his office with his cum dripping out if you. Ten minutes later, you come back with the file and he stands up. “Close the door.”

You shiver at the command in his voice, obediently shutting the door behind you, and you make your way over to his desk. He doesn’t waste a moment, grabbing your waist to pull you close until his lips crash against yours, desperation and need apparent in his touch. You moan softly into the kiss, grabbing onto his dress shirt, pulling him impossibly closer.

He’s not thinking about anything but bending you over his desk. “Turn around.” He pulls away and turns you himself, not giving you a chance to do so. “Driving me crazy in this fucking thing.” He huffs, kissing along your neck. “Want to see what you’re wearing underneath it.”

You gasp when he pulls your dress up to expose the lace panties. You need to do laundry and these are among your last pairs - the sexier kind you haven’t worn for a while because they aren’t comfortable. His groan of appreciation is worth it though and you wet the lace immediately, unable to believe he’s doing this but fuck you love it.

“Fuck, I knew it.” He groans again against your neck, hooking his fingers under your panties and pulling them down to your knees. “You’re dirty under that nice, mousy little facade.” He growls in your ear, kicking your legs apart and reaching for his belt buckle. “Fucking love that I get to know that. Gonna fuck your pussy full of my cum and you’re gonna sit it in while you answer the phone.”

You swear you nearly cum from just his words. A whine escaping your lips as his belt buckle clinks and you wiggle your ass. "Please. God, please. I need you to fuck me." You plead and gasp when he smacks your ass. "Yes. Javi. Please." You whine and hiss in relief when his cock slides between your ass cheeks.

“Fuck, you’re so eager.” He would chuckle, but he’s too busy biting back a groan as he feels how wet you are. Apparently you get turned on really easily or he affects you like this. “Be a good girl and take it.” He grunts as he pushes inside you.

You fall forward, his files beneath you as you take his cock like he orders. It's intoxicating, feeling his length fill you up in a way you've never felt before. It takes your breath away. Sex has never been this good. "Javi." You moan, fluttering your walls around his cock to get him to move.

“Shit.” He hisses, immediately rocking back to slam his hips forward and filling you again. “God, you feel good.” You bite your lip to keep from moaning and he appreciates that. “Gonna have to be quick.” He pants, reaching around you and starting to rub your clit frantically as he rocks into you.

"Oh fuck." You hiss, grinding back against him and when he hits just right after five or so thrusts, in combination with his fingers rubbing your clit, you climax. Gripping the edge of his desk and biting your lip hard to smother your squeal, you clamp down on his cock and shake as you cum.

It’s quick and dirty. He doesn’t have enough time for it to be anything else. Groaning when he feels you come apart around him. “Fuck yes.” He hisses quietly, grinding into you harder. “Gonna cum.”

"Cum for me." You plead quietly, loving the way his hips slam against your ass until he finds his own high, his hot cum painting your walls while he softly groans your name. You slump against his desk, reveling in the sensations surging through your body, and you close your eyes for a moment. "So good." You whisper, loving how intense the sex is.

Javi sighs and leans down to kiss the back of your neck before he pulls out of you. Slapping your ass before he tucks himself away and pulls your panties up while his cum is dripping out of you. “It was good.” He comments as he pulls your dress down over your ass. “Now you get to feel me for the rest of the day.”

You giggle, loving how cheeky he can be and you gather the strength to stand up straight. “I’ll get you your coffee with your cum sticking to my thighs.” You quip as you stand up, quickly pecking his lips. “I’ll head back to my desk, sir.” You offer him a soft smile then walk towards the door. 

He calls your name and you turn to look back at him. “Call me Javi, not sir when we - you know.” He rubs the back of his neck. 

“Yes si- Javi.” You correct yourself and slip out of his office, taking a seat to continue typing.

****

It continues on. Quickies over his desk, dragging you back to his house on occasions, but most often, he’s at your apartment after work. Fucking you in every conceivable position and on every surface. Even staying the night once on a Friday when he was too tired to drive home after spending hours between your thighs. Everything is going great, he’s even gotten comments on how he’s not as much of an asshole as before. The arrangement he has with you is perfect.

The arrangement Javi has with you is a nightmare. Every single time the man is between your thighs, all you want to do is tell him you're in love with him. Between quickies, he brings you coffee instead of you getting it for him. He buys you lunch and one time he even brought in a pair of his aviators because you told him you wouldn't mind a pair so he gave you a pair of his. 

He professes to be an uncaring asshole but you see a different side to him. Tonight, you decide you're going to end it. He doesn't love you and you know you're just gonna break your own heart eventually so you decide to end it. When the doorbell rings, you swallow nervously and open the door. Frowning when you see how distraught he looks. "Javi? What's wrong?" You ask.

Javi sighs in relief, even though he knew you would be home. Walking in with the weight of the world on his shoulders when you move back to let him in. “The mission that I authorized went south.” He tells you, his voice rough with emotion. “Two agents are dead and the other is in surgery - and it’s not good.” He closes his eyes and feels useless. He’s half a world away and he can’t do a goddamn thing, but he is responsible.

You respond immediately, surging forward to wrap your arms around him. "I'm so sorry baby. Come on, you need to relax. I have whiskey and I'll run you a bath." You pull back to cup his cheeks, "this wasn't your fault. Shit - it is dangerous and the agents know that. You knew that. It's a risk, every mission is a risk, and you did what you thought was best. Now, sit down, lemme get you that drink and you can relax in the tub."

It’s stupid but he doesn’t want to be alone. He had thought about not even coming over, knowing he would be shit company but he needed you. He tells himself that it’s so he can fuck you and forget about his problems, but right now he’s not even thinking about that. A bath sounds amazing. He snags your arm as you turn to get him a drink, stopping you. “Will you- will you get in the bath with me?” He asks, wondering why he’s so shy about asking for you to take a bath with him when he knows your body like the back of his hand.

You nod, knowing it's best to not say a word as you reach out to caress his cheek, a move you wouldn't normally dare to do but it seemed right. He releases you and you quickly set about running the bath, putting plenty of bubble bath in it, before you work on getting his whiskey. "Here you go." You hand him the drink, “take a few minutes to relax then come meet me in the bathroom.” You want to light some candles, really create a relaxing atmosphere.

Javi feels better just being here, watching you as you rush around to help him. He leans back and takes a sip of the whiskey, closing his eyes as he replays the audio feed from the mission and his stomach drops again. He shouldn’t have let them go tonight. It takes a few minutes, but he gets up, groaning as he gets to his feet. The idea of getting drunk in the bath with you holds enormous appeal, and he shuffles towards the bathroom.

You test the water, making sure it's not too hot, and you turn to look at him as he enters your bathroom. "I bought this house because of the tub." You tell him, unsure of why you've told him that but the look in his eyes is haunted and makes you want to comfort him. You reach out to begin unbuttoning his shirt, working fast to strip him off. "Come on, get in." You order, taking the glass from his hand to hold it while he gets in the water.

He obeys your order without thought, getting into the tub with a groan of appreciation at the hot water. Cupping his cock and balls to protect them from the heat until he gets underwater and then he takes the glass from you. “Get in with me.” He nearly begs it, wanting you here with him, the physicality of touch is what he craves, even if he’s not even hard right now.

The look in his eyes has you immediately stripping off, patting his back to push him forward so you can get in behind him. He shifts and you sigh as you step in, settling behind him. You reach for him, pulling him back into your chest, your hands immediately running through his hair. "Relax." You order, loving the way his muscles stop tensing as he relaxes against you.

Leaning back against your shoulder, Javi sighs and closes his eyes. “I- I know it’s stupid.” He murmurs softly. “But I had hoped the guilt would go away, being out of the field.” He tries to focus on your touch, the way your fingers feel on his skin and in his hair. The soft press of your breasts against his back. “I just feel guilty for not being there. For leaving them alone to die without trying to save them.”

"I understand. Well, I haven't been in that environment so I don't understand, but I recognize how you are feeling. Javi, the job you did, the job they did...it's dangerous. You know that when you take up your post and it - the mission you authorized...it looked right on paper. You weren't there. There was nothing you could do. Nothing you could've done. I know you and you will beat yourself up but it wasn't your fault. Those agents knew the risk and you know how desperate you can get to get the bad guys." You caress his chest, cupping the water in your hands to wash his chest, feeling his heart thump beneath your touch.

He sighs, knowing what you are saying is true and he feels emotional about the fact that you are trying to comfort him. It’s been a long time since he’s opened up to someone but you know what he does. You see everything that crosses his desk and you are a damn smart woman. Should have been an agent yourself. “Very desperate.” He acknowledges that as the fact that it is.

"You need to relax. Get your mind off of things you cannot control." You murmur, kissing his neck as your nails scrape his nipples. The little sigh he releases makes you hum in approval and you slide your hand lower until you are wrapping your fingers around his cock - half hard - but you grip him and kiss along his neck.

He whispers your name, body reacting to your touch like you’ve learned he likes. He’s probably in over his head but he slides his hand down to cover yours. “You don’t- I didn’t-” He doesn’t know why he came here, but for the first time, it hadn’t been to fuck you. He just needed you and it scares him. “You don’t have to.” He murmurs weakly when you squeeze him.

"I want to. You need to relax. Stress isn't good for you." You don't move, allowing him to remove your hand if he wants but when he doesn't, you begin to pump him. His body practically melts into yours as you lazily pump his cock, wanting him to feel good after such a bad day. "You're so good, Javi. You think you're a bad man but you're not. You care so much about people and it shows every single day. You're good. You're funny, sarcastic but funny. You are furiously loyal and constantly smell like Marlboros and whiskey but it suits you. You are a good man and you can't keep beating yourself up for something that was out of your control. Relax baby. Let me take care of you." You know your words are way beyond those of fuck buddies but you mean every one. Your feelings that you thought could be contained are breaking free and that terrifies you.

It’s the first time he’s let you take control. Yes, he gave you pleasure, reminding himself that it was because you allowed him to touch you. He stayed in charge, breaking you down and making you cry out while he also chased his own release and burst of endorphins. This is the first time he’s given himself to you and it’s shockingly easy. His head rolls to the side and his lips graze your jaw as your hand slides up and down his cock, the water sloshing against the side of the tub and the precum spurting into the hot, fragrant water while all he can think about is how good you feel. “Fuck.” He groans. “So good to me.”

“That’s it baby.” You coo, kissing him softly on the cheek as he completely slumps against you. Groans escaping his lips and you hum in delight that he is finally relaxing. “Gonna make you feel good.” You promise, twisting your wrist just how he likes. You know his body as well as your own by now, swiping your thumb over the head when the foreskin is pushed down.

“Shit.” He hisses, bucking his hips up slightly to chase the feeling. Groaning when your hold on his chest tightens. “Don’t move, baby.” You whisper in his ear. “Let me take care of you.” His eyes close again and he throbs in your hand, never hearing those words in a way that felt anything more than sexual but it sounds like you want to care for him. Something he desperately needs right now.

You work his cock, caressing his chest and kissing along his neck as you listen to his breathy moans. His eyes close as he lets you work him closer to an orgasm. The hot water sloshes onto the floor but you don't care, wanting to make him feel good.

You don’t say another word, focusing on making him cum. You nibble on his ear, groaning at the way he moans your name. You twist your wrist just right and the whimper he lets out tells you he’s close. He grunts, hips bucking as he cums, cock twitching in your hand as you kiss along his neck, loving the way his chest heaves as he lets go of his demons for a moment.

It’s probably the hardest he’s cum in God only knows how long. His mind was completely blank except for the pleasure roaring through his veins, ears filled with white noise and shuddering through the aftershocks. He practically whimpers your name as he slumps back down against you again. “Holy shit.” He pants quietly, your hand stilling and the silence deafening except for his labored breaths.

You love how he melts against you again. You caress his chest, letting go of his softening cock to wash his chest. You kiss him over and over on the neck and jaw until you allow yourself to relax too. “You want me to-?” He rasps and you shake your head. 

“No. This wasn’t about me. It was about you.”

Javi bites his lip, unable to believe that you don’t want anything in return. Swallowing down the sudden emotions, he sighs and reaches up to cover your hand with his and squeeze it in thanks. “Thank you.”

You kiss his cheek and cup his jaw to turn your head so you can kiss his lips. He groans into the kiss, sliding his tongue into your mouth and you're unhurried, lazily kissing him as you let him just enjoy being relaxed.

The two of you kiss until the water starts to cool, he feels the way that his toes are starting to prune up and he sighs. Pulling away, he nudges his nose against yours. “Can I stay tonight?” He asks, not wanting to go home to his empty place and keep himself company.

You’re surprised but you don’t let it show on your face as you look at him. “Are you - yes. You can stay.” You amend your response, not wanting to freak him out by overthinking it. You are soon out of the bath and dry, offering him a pair of sweatpants that you kept from your ex. “Sorry. This is all I have.” You fluster. “You want some water?” You ask, suddenly exhausted and ready for bed.

“No.” He shakes his head, ready to crash with the emotional upheaval of the day and actually feeling like he will be able to sleep. “I’ll just wear my underwear.” He tells you, not wanting to wear another man’s clothes. He reaches out and touches your arm. “Thank you.” He offers. “For everything.”

You nod, offering him a small smile before you head to the kitchen to get a water bottle for you both. Returning back to your bedroom, it is bizarre how comfortable he looks in your bedroom. Like he is always meant to be here. You push that thought aside and hand him the water then get into your bed. “Night Javi.” You say as you get under the covers after turning off the light. 

He pulls you back into his arms, curling around you. “Night hermosa.” He murmurs, kissing your shoulder and you close your eyes, reminding yourself that he doesn’t feel the same way.

Crawling out of your bed at five in the morning was probably the hardest thing he’s done in a long time. He was careful to ease out of the bed, not wanting to disturb you so you could sleep until your alarm went off. He had slept like a baby, and felt refreshed despite what happened the day before. Closing the door to your house softly and smirking to himself as he makes his way to his car. He will have to make it up to you today, spread you out on his desk and have you for lunch.

When your alarm goes off, you expect to see Javi still asleep beside you but when you don’t, you know you will never truly have him. Not like you want. You’ve tried to convince yourself that sex is enough for you but you love him. You’re in love with him, every stupid detail like the annoying way he chomps on his food to the way he holds his cigarette. It’s impossible not to fall in love even more and you know that it will be your downfall. 

He doesn’t love you, doesn’t want you for more than sex, and you knew this going into the arrangement. It’s not his fault nor are you blaming him for how you feel. You can, however, handle it by deciding to take some time. You decide to hold back the tears and get the yellow pages to call the directory. You know who will help you out for a couple of weeks while you get your head together.

Javi frowns, the door to his office open as he waits to see you come rushing up. More than likely apologizing for being late although he never cares about that. The disposable cup of coffee he had picked up on his way into the office sits on your desk, waiting for you. His own already drunk and tossed into the wastebasket while he crushes out the second cigarette of the morning. After showering and changing, he had come straight to the office, starting the endless reports he needed to fill out about the botched arrest. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late Mr. Peña. I didn’t get the call until this morning.” The young man stumbles into his office. Javi narrows his eyes at the man, immediately demanding to know where you are. “She called out sick. I- I’m here for the rest of the week. I’m an intern down in the basement working with HR so it will be fun to have some experience with the higher ups. My name is Jason. I can get you a coffee. She said that you take it black.” He rambles and spins on his heel, leaving before Javi can say anything.

Sitting with his mouth open in shock, he slumps back in his chair. You hadn’t been sick when he left. Why did you call out? He snatches up the phone, punching in the numbers for your house and presses the receiver up to his ear and listens to the ringing on the other end. “Pick up, pick up!” He hisses angrily. 

Your phone rings and you know it’s him but you can’t answer. You need to detox yourself from Javier Peña. That night of the fundraiser was your chance to cleanse yourself of your feelings but he charmed you even more and got you into this mess. You need space and you need time to figure out your heart, to break it and mend it before you go back to work and end things for good.

By lunchtime, Javi is furious. He called you every half hour and you haven’t picked up. He doesn’t believe that you are sick, but he doesn’t know what the fuck is going on. Pushing back angrily from his chair, he snatches up his coat and storms out of his office. “Go home.” He barks at Jason, making the man jump as he makes his way to the elevator, determined to go see if you will answer your door. 

You are sitting on your sofa, glass of wine in your hand, as you try to ignore the way your heart aches. Your phone hasn’t stopped ringing and he left several messages telling you to phone him. You ignore them all, trying to figure out what you’re gonna do next.

Sitting in front of your house, he doesn’t get out and immediately storms up to your door to beat on it. He knows you will just ignore it, like you have been ignoring your phone. He has to be calm, to try to understand why you had called out. Gripping the steering wheel, he looks over at the bags he had stopped and picked up, the soup and medicine a handy excuse for why he would be knocking on your door, given you had said you were sick. Although you both know you aren’t sick. Sighing, he reaches for the bags, and pushes the driver’s side door open to make his way to your door. 

When your doorbell rings, you freeze. Wondering who it could be - surely it’s not Javi, he would still be at work - you think it’s the mailman and make your way to your door. Eyes sore from crying your heart out, you don’t care as you open the door. “Javi?” You choke, clapping eyes on the very man you’ve been trying to get away from, to try and forget.

You look sick. Sick with heartache or worry. Your eyes, your beautiful eyes, are swollen with tears still left un-shed and red rimmed from the ones you had spilt. Worrying has him stepping closer, brow furrowed and he’s reaching out for you. “What’s wrong?” He asks, cupping your cheek. “What happened?” 

You pull yourself away from his grip, knowing you’ll give in if you let him touch you. “You - you need to go, Javi.” You plead and he shakes his head, stepping closer to you again. 

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.” He insists and you choke on a sob. 

“Please. I’m trying- I’m trying to stop - we can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep sleeping with you.”

His hand falls back down to his side, eyes widening in shock and he’s stunned for a moment. The happiness and security that he had felt right here last night is gone, ripped away. He wants to ask why, what changed in the hours that he had left your bed and now. Swallowing, he drops the bag's hands from the take out bag he had brought you on the door knob of your front door. “Feel better.” He manages, turning on his heel and hurrying away from your door.

You are so frustrated, the emotions bubbling up inside of you and you can’t hold it back anymore. You can’t stop yourself as you scream at him while he makes his way to his truck. “I’m fucking in love with you!” You shout, eyes widening after a moment when you realize what you just screamed, covering your mouth.

He is two steps from his truck when he hears your screamed confession. Freezing and turning back to see you covering your mouth, wide eyed in horror. Gripping his keys tight enough that he swears he might cut himself. Breaking out into a run, headed straight for you as fast as he can. “What did you say?” He demands, reaching you and pushing you back into your house and against the wall, holding you by your arm. “What did you just say?” 

Your mouth opens and closes, unsure of what to say, shocked from your own confession and you’re certain that he hates you now. You swallow harshly and he squeezes your arm. “What did you fucking say?” He demands again and you close your eyes, unable to look at him and see any anger because you’ve broken the rules. 

“I’m in love with you.” You whisper, terrified of the imminent rejection.

“Fuck.” Javi lunges forward, kissing you with a kind of frantic desperation that shakes him to his core. Knowing that everything that he has been feeling and trying to ignore was exactly what you had just said. He’s in love with you too. Letting go of your arms and wrapping them around your back, crushing you against him while his tongue slides into your mouth. 

You are shocked by his reaction, certain that he was going to reject you, laugh in your face, and never speak to you again. The way his tongue caresses yours has you melting into him again. Your hands tangle in his hair to pull him even closer, your chest pressing into his.

Javi groans and he presses closer to you, breaking away from your mouth to start kissing along your jaw up to your ear. “Idiot.” He huffs, unable to believe that you would think that he doesn’t care about you. “I love you.” He murmurs. “Baby, I’ve been in love with you.” He confesses, finally able to see it for the truth that it is. He’s been in love with you.

You inhale sharply, unable to believe he wants you like that, that he loves you. “I- God. I was scared you’d hate me for loving you. I know - I know you don’t like entanglements and - oh God - baby, I love you. I - I need you.” You plead, wanting to feel him and you slide your hands under his shirt after tugging it out of his pants.

He smirks against your skin, sucking and nipping it with his teeth before he pulls back. “Yeah? Been ignoring me all day and now you need me?” He huffs, letting you continue to undress him. “Ruined my plans for today,” he grumbles. “Was gonna spread you out on my desk and have you for lunch.”

You giggle, almost high from him saying he loves you. You work on his belt next after he reluctantly lets you go so you can shove his button down off. “You can still do that. It’s lunch time.” You glance over at the clock on the wall, a grin that you can’t seem to wipe off of your face makes him wink at you and he grabs the back of your thighs, making you squeal.

Javi grunts, picking you up to carry you the few steps to your sofa and drops you down on it. “Take your fucking shorts off.” He growls, shoving down his pants and kicking them off.

You move fast, kicking your shorts and panties off, tossing them across the room and you have no idea how you don’t get used to seeing his body, his cock. He’s so beautiful and he takes your breath away every time. You inhale sharply and watch him, a smile on your lips after you quickly remove your shirt.

You look incredible, spread out. Javi takes a moment to just look at you, eyes softening from his normal dark gaze. Kneeling down and running his hands up your thighs. “I love you.” He murmurs, pressing his lips to your knee and shuffling closer.

You gasp when he kisses along your thigh. “I love you too.” You whimper, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair. You can’t believe how lucky you are to have him, this beautiful man loves you. When his breath hits your hot core, you fidget and he swings his arm over your stomach to keep you still.

It’s not that he’s never eaten pussy before, but he’s not gone down on you. Most of your encounters were just straight sex, he never even asked for a blow job. The hand job you gave him yesterday was the first time he hadn’t finished inside you. But right now he wants to do this. He looks up at you, dark eyes boring into yours as he flattens his tongue against your clit.

“Oh God.” You gasp, your entire body lighting up from his touch. “Javi.” You keep your eyes on his, feeling like you are the only woman in the world with the way he’s flicking his tongue over your clit. “It’s - wow. It’s so good.” You pant softly.

His hands push your thighs apart, eager to get more access to your cunt. Wanting to hear you and make you feel like he had last night. His nose presses against your clit while his tongue curls up inside you, keeping his pace light because he’s in no hurry to make you cum.

You moan his name, bucking your hips up into his mouth to grind on his tongue but he won’t let you move too much. His nose pressed against your clit has you gasping for breath as he expertly works your cunt. The way his hands are caressing you combined with his eyes has your heart thumping. There is no doubt about how he feels about you.

He can’t believe that this is how far this has come. The woman who had captured his attention was his assistant, his assistant who he loves. Javi groans into you, squeezing your hips and focusing on the way your eyes flutter with every flick of his tongue inside you.

He’s slow, working you up with laps of his tongue and rubs of his nose. No frantic fucking, this is romantic and takes your breath away. It’s not long before he sends you over the edge, clamping down on his tongue with a moan of his name.

Grinning into your cunt, he works you through it until you are trembling and gasping his name, hand pushing at his head. Kissing along your inner thigh and up over your mound, he rests his chin on your pubic bone and sends you a lazy smile. “That’s what I wanted to do at the office today.” He murmurs, squeezing your hip again.

You smile, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair. “Would’ve been sexier on your desk.” You tease, watching him as he shifts to kneel between your legs and you drag him down on top of you, pressing your lips to his and uncaring of tasting yourself on his tongue. “Make love to me baby. I want you inside of me.”

“Make love to you.” Javi likes the way that it sounds. Curling an arm around your back to hold you close while he uses his hand to guide himself to your core. “I like that.” He presses his lips to yours and starts to push inside you. “I love you.”

“I love you.” You gasp when he pushes inside of you, making you cling to him, wrapping your arms and legs around him. You kiss along his neck, sighing his name as he starts to slowly move inside of you. “I’m so sorry for all of this mess.” You murmur, making him pull back to look at you.

“What do you mean?” He frowns, stopping his movements. 

“The fundraiser, pretending to be okay with just sex. I’ve made such a mess of everything.”

Closing his eyes, he leans forward and kisses your forehead and presses his win against yours. “It’s okay.” He promises you. “Things happened how they needed to. We don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

You smile, grateful he’s not mad at you, and you kiss his lips when he begins to move inside of you again. You roll your hips to meet him, slow and not in a rush. So unlike the other times you’ve been together. “It’s always so good.” You sigh, closing your eyes and enjoying the feel of him above you. The weight of the moment rests on you both but it’s not suffocating.

Grabbing your hand, he laces his fingers with yours and holds your hand while he slowly rocks into you. His lips press to yours again and again, keeping it light and not deepening it but the emotions are there. “So good baby.” He promises. “From the first time. Knew it from the first time I felt you around me.”

“As me, or as the woman at the fundraiser?” You tease, caressing his back with your free hand and you squeeze his other hand.

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head at you. “Aren’t they the same?” He asks, grinding his hips a little deeper. “The mousy assistant is the act. The wild, wonton woman at the party is the real you. The one that only I get to see.”

You grin, realizing he truly knows you. “Yes. Only you get to see me. The real me. God, you bring the best out in me. I’m so - so wanton around you.” You hiss when his cock hits deep. “Fuck. Love you and love this cock. Makes me feel - feel so good.”

Javi chuckles and makes sure his next thrust is nice and deep, loving the way you clench around him. “Always want you to feel good. Love the way you feel when you cum, love you.” He picks up the pace. “Want you to cum now.”

The way he grinds into you, his pubic hair rubbing your clit and his cock pressing deep, it doesn’t take much to get you to cum. With a gasp, you clamp down on his length, soaking him with a soft cry of his name. The orgasm is slow, overtaking your entire body until you feel boneless beneath him.

“Yesss.” He hisses, loving the way that you shatter under him and he keeps grinding into you, chasing his own release. “Good girl, God you get so wet for me.” He’s suddenly stiffening, moaning your name as he fills you up.

You sigh in bliss at the way he fills you up, making your back arch beneath him and you kiss his jaw as he pants, relaxing above you. “Love you Javi.”

“I love you.” He pulls out of you gently and moves to the side, curling around you. Reaching up, he cups your cheek and kisses you again. “Janice in HR is going to be pissed.” He chuckles and kisses your nose. “Told her I wouldn’t fall in love with my assistant and I lied.”

You giggle, shifting to curl into him, caressing his neck and running your fingers through his hair. “She had a feeling it would happen? Or is your reputation that bad?” You joke, making him snort. 

“Probably both.” He retorts.

You sigh in contentment before you kiss his jaw. “We will figure it out. If I have to switch to another department or - or if I have to quit, we will figure it out. I don’t want your job to be in jeopardy.”

“It won’t be.” Javi promises, closing his eyes and sighing softly as he leans back. “I’ll make sure of it and I don’t want you to stop being my assistant. You- you’ve changed my life in so many small ways, I didn’t realize how much until you didn’t show up today. I hate Jason, by the way.”

You roll your eyes playfully at that, “he’s sweet. Just - he gets flustered. I’ll call him and tell him he can go back to the basement.” Javier chuckles at that. “As for you, I’m glad you finally started wearing those glasses. Your squinting was ridiculous.” You joke and it’s his turn to roll his eyes. “Maybe that’s why you didn’t recognize me that night.” 

He shakes his head, “no. I just - I should’ve opened my eyes and seen you, my beautiful assistant.” He admits and you smile, kissing his cheek. 

“Well, I’m here now baby. Your mystery woman unveiled.” You tease and he caresses your side. 

“My very own Cinderella.” He grins, knowing that the night you walked into that fundraiser changed everything.

[angelofsmalldeath-codeine]

Help finding a Javier Peña fic

I’m going up the walls trying to find a Javier Peña fic that I read a while back and just cannot find it again for the life of me.

These are some of the bits I remember in case it clicks with any of you:

He is back in Laredo post S3

He meets reader who is recently widowed. The husband was very good friends with Javi before he left for Colombia. The friendship plays an important part in the story

I think Javi had a crush on reader before he left. Not quite sure.

Javi and reader get together, reader gets pregnant with his baby.

Stuff happens between them and reader finds a new boyfriend.

Javi has a car accident and reader has to take care of him.

In another fucked up moment reader finds Javi barely alive in his flat. Not sure if it was a heart attack or alcohol poisoning.

Reader’s new boyfriend is a piece of shit and tries to rape her. Javi arrives in time to save her from it.

GIF for attention