#big dick steve murphy

[toxicanonymity]

The Raid, Part 2.

panty-dropping javi art by @bonezone44

8k words | dark!javi x f!reader x dark!steve | The Raid SUMMARY: Javi and his partner get you settled in. WARNINGS: I8+ dubcon (captivity & more), kidnapping, drugs, mild withdrawal, manhandling, sharing, degradation, praise, homoerotic tension, thigh fucking, somnophilia (javi), p in v (steve, but Javi's involved), orgasm denial, cumplay, size kink if you squint, mfm adjacent, hillbilly cock. Javi & Steve RECS: Lie Still by @milla-frenchy , Crossing Lines by @lunitawrites , Helping Hands and Polaroids by @clawdee , You can be the boss by @girlboybug . TY all!! A/N: Could've been 2 parts (4.4k/3.6k) so there's a divider (ty @cafekitsune) if you want 2 reads. Ty @debbiequinn for your sleep thot and @ghoulettesinspace for your styling thots. Tagged people who asked for part 2 at the end.

✨NEXT: Javi isn't home - Steve PWP.

The DEA has left the scene, aside from Javi and his tall, blonde partner. The partner managed to catch your (ex) boyfriend while Javi was “supervising” you. Javi has given his men a talking-to and told them you were never there.  With a strong grip on your arm, he's dragged you to a Ford Bronco where he's now forcing you into the back seat. 

"My shirt," you beg. 

Javi shrugs mercilessly. "Should've put it on before you ran." He glances at your bra before beginning to shut the car door. 

He and his partner talk outside the car. Javi stands with his hands tucked into the top of his vest. The taller man leans with one hand just above the back seat window and his other hand on his hip. He ducks down to look at you, but doesn't acknowledge you. He asks Javi, "You sure we need to be drivin' around with her half dressed?" 

"What'd I say?”

The blonde agent holds his hands up in mock defense. “No Carrillo, no questions." He walks around front to the driver's seat. You have a better view of him once he's seated. He's strong, like Javi. He has a thick mustache, too.

Javi gets in the passenger seat and puts on a voice like he's teaching a class and would rather be anywhere else. He addresses you by name, then says, "This is Steve Murphy." 

Steve nods in the rear view mirror, and your eyes meet. Then he turns on the engine and asks Javi, "safe house?" 

Javi tilts his head back and smooths his mustache. “Mm,” he contemplates.

Steve offers, "I'll head to the closest one."

Javi answers, "No. My place."

"Yours?" 

"Yeah, you know, the place I live? Right downstairs?" 

Steve raises his eyebrows. "Alright." After a few moments of silence, Steve asks, "informant?" 

"Eh," Javi ponders. "We'll see."  He puts a cigarette in his mouth, then takes the cigarette lighter out of its socket and lights up. Javi reaches down to crank the window open a little more, then exhales, aiming the smoke outside. He asks, "We need to worry about Romeo?" as he hands the cigarette to Steve. 

“Nah,” Steve replies as he accepts the cigarette. He looks at the tip of the filter and takes one puff before handing it back to Javi. Steve exhales out the window, then reaches back and puts his hand behind Javi's seat to put the car in reverse. 

"Nah,” Steve repeats. “Don’t gotta worry ‘bout that dumbass. . .Told him we'd fuck her in front of him, know what he said?”

“What?” Javi asks, bemused. 

“He said go ahead."  You’re not surprised. 

"Ouch," Javi pretends to sympathize, then looks back to check on you. "Sorry, sweetheart."

—-

Once they get you to the apartment, the first thing they do is take you to the bathroom. You have to walk through a bedroom to get there. In the middle of the bedroom, there's a bed with leather restraints. It makes your stomach turn to look at. 

Steve’s eyes fixate on it and he asks Javi, "You kept this stuff?"

Javi retorts, "Where'd you think it went, the Salvation Army?” 

Javi pauses to take off his tactical vest.  “Let’s wash that place off her.” 

“C’mon,” Steve gently urges you by the arm toward the bathroom. You go in the restroom and stand, awkwardly awaiting instructions. You lean your back against the wall and the handcuffs drag.

Steve plugs the drain and turns on the water. Javi walks in, takes out the keys and uncuffs you. Steve retires to the doorway and leans against it, tucking his hands into the top of his tactical vest and watching. He seems to take up the whole frame. 

There's a toilet next to the bathtub/shower combo. Javi closes the lid and sits down, facing you, and manspreads in his tight jeans. His shirt is stained with sweat, and the glimmer of a gold chain catches your eye on his tan chest. Javi pats his thigh closest to the tub. You sit on his thigh, facing the door and Steve. Javi strokes your face, and you look down at the floor, cheeks warm, heart racing. 

“It’s okay,” Javi tells you, “Vamos a ponerte limpia y lista para una vida nueva.” (We’re gonna get you clean and ready for a new life). He unclasps your bra and you let it fall off into your lap. Javi tosses it to Steve, saying, “Check the closet out there.” 

Javi reaches over to feel the water, then rests his large hand between your shoulder blades.  “Now take off your pants.” He gives you a gentle push out of his lap. 

You stand again and remove your pants. Javi stays seated.

You’re cowering with your arms in front of you, but Javi beckons you with a hooked finger. You come to stand between his knees. He nudges your inner elbows and you let your arms fall out of the way. 

“Good girl,” he mutters, not taking his eyes off your tits. His hands come to your chest without even a glance to your face. He lightly massages your breasts until both nipples are erect. He slots both his hands under your armpits and thumbs your nipples, then slides his palms down to your hips where he hooks his thumbs into your panties and keeps going, bringing them down to the floor. 

Steve comes back from the closet and sets some clothes on the bathroom counter. 

Javi looks over and tells him, “Keep Carillo off my back for a while.” 

Steve nods and leaves. “Hasta luego!” he shouts with an American accent on his way out. 

Javi chuckles and shakes his head. 

-

Javi eyes the water level of the tub and turns off the faucet. “How do you feel?” he asks you with kind eyes. 

“Fine,” you mutter without meeting his gaze. 

He extends his hand for you, and you hold it for balance. You dip a toe in and it’s lukewarm. “Get in.” He nods toward the bath and you do. He takes off his shoes and socks and puts them outside the door, then cuffs his jeans. 

“How’s the water?” He asks then reaches under the sink, and you watch his ass strain his pants as he gets a bath poof. 

“Uh, good.” Your answer echoes off the tile. 

He sits on the side of the tub and uses a light orange bar of soap to make some lather, then scrubs you. He holds you with one hand for leverage while he scrubs you with the other. He starts with your arms, and your neck. He's not gentle. 

“Ow,” you mutter at one point.  

“Ay, pobrecita” (poor little girl). “You're going to feel so clean,” he reassures you. He makes you lift your arms. Then each leg. The tub squeaks under you as you scoot forward. He scrubs your legs and between your thighs. He does your breasts and your back. His arm muscles flex with his effort. When he leans over you to reach your other side, his back muscles strain his shirt and his gold chain escapes from his collar, revealing a little cross on it. 

“You’re bottoming out,” he mutters. 

“Huh?”

“In life.” He pauses and makes sure you're looking at him as he explains this. “It’s a good thing. Know why?” 

You stare at him vacantly.

“Once you hit rock bottom, you go back up.” 

You look away, and your cheeks burn. You get it, he found you at a low point, he doesn’t have to rub it in. It doesn't feel great. 

Javi washes your stomach and downward. He gets close to your intimate parts, but he's clinical about it. He gets you up on your knees and scrubs your bottom. He flattens his hand and slides the side of it down your crack, making you gasp with an unexpected rush of warmth to your core. 

Your skin feels almost numb in some areas by the time he's done bathing you. Then he lathers a softer sponge and washes you more gently.  He drains the tub and takes his time lazily rinsing you. When he's finished, he turns on the shower and tells you to make sure he got it all. 

Once you’re squeaky clean, he dries you off with a pale, yellow, threadbare towel. He inspects the clothes on the counter. It’s a Hawaiian shirt much too large to be Javi’s. Some pants, too, but he only puts the Hawaiians shirt on you. You eye your underwear on the floor, but Javi bends down and snatches it up before you have the chance to collect it. 

“I’ll start some laundry,” he offers.

—. . .----

Javi makes pork and beans for dinner. While you’re eating, someone jogs up the stairs outside. “Steve’s right upstairs,” Javi tells you. “Ever need anything and I’m not here, just yell.” He takes a bite of his beans. “He’s a better cook, too,” he smiles with his eyes. 

During a quiet moment, you’re startled by the sound of a woman moaning from upstairs. You look up at the ceiling. 

[ohhhh, she whines. give it to me.]

“Just a porno,” Javi tells you with a smirk. 

“So,” He studies your face. “What did you want to be when you grew up?” 

“You make it sound like my life is over.” 

“No, there’s still time,” he shrugs. 

You refuse to answer. 

[upstairs, a man’s voice joins in. oh yeah, take it, baby.]

Javi tries, “Favorite color?” 

You don’t answer that either. 

[yeah, just like that]

“That’s okay,” he says. “We’ve got all the time in the world to get to know each other.” 

“You can't keep me here forever, if that's what you're trying to do.”

Javi’s eyebrows knit in concern. "Oh, sweetheart.” With sad eyes, he asks, “You really think someone will report you missing?" 

"I have a job," you protest. 

“Oh,” he sounds fakely impressed. “Well. . . Be a good girl, and I'll get you a better one.”

Upstairs, a deeper, clearer voice sighs, “Ohh, fuck,” making you squeeze your thighs together. That has to be Steve. It sounds like him. 

[Steve sighs and grunts over the faint sounds from the television.] 

You bite your lip and look away. 

Javi lowers his head and raises his eyebrows at you. He reaches for your face and smirks as he makes you look at him. “Like what ya hear?” Blood rushes to your face. He chuckles as he lowers his hand. 

[A long groan from Steve.]

Oh, wow. You wonder if Javi will notice the wet spot under you. You take a deep breath. When you regain your focus, he’s studying your eyes with an amused sparkle in his.  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he nods, then pats your cheek. 

“He’s a good guy,” Javi adds, then looks upward in thought. He tilts his head back and forth as though debating himself. “Kind of.” He pushes a glass of water toward you. “Drink.”

—-

When it’s time to sleep, Javi takes you to the bedroom you walked through on the way in. He watches your face as you eye the bed with its restraints. 

“You’ve been pretty good so far,” Javi muses. “Maybe we don’t need this yet.” 

“Please,” you beg. “I promise I’ll behave.” 

“How are you feeling?” he asks. 

“Fine.”

“Alright, then. I’m not sure if you’ll like the other option much better, though.” 

He brings you to his room and heads toward the closet, which rolls open with a four-panel door. you wouldn’t really mind sleeping in Javi’s bed with him, but that’s not what he has in mind. He pulls out an old futon mattress with a striped fitted blanket and throws it on the floor.  “You can choose where to sleep, how’s that?”

“Here,” you answer without hesitation and he chuckles. 

“Muy bien, pobrecita. But I *am* going to have to secure you.”  He takes his handcuffs out and cuffs one to a radiator under the window. Then, with his foot, he pushes the futon mattress over to it.  

“Really?” You ask. “I promise I’ll be good.”

“I believe you. But you need protection from yourself right now.” 

His bed has plenty of room for both of you. He’s just being an ass. 

-

Javi lets you watch television, sitting side by side with him on his sofa. He periodically looks at you skeptically, as though wondering if you’ll make a run for the door, but you don’t. It sure has been a long day. You yawn. 

“Ready for bed?” Javi asks. 

You nod. 

There’s a knock at the door. 

It’s Steve. He’s come by to drop off a couple of bags. One is from the grocery store. Javi steps into the breezeway to talk for a couple of minutes. When he comes back in, he brings the grocery bag to the table and puts the others aside. In the grocery bag, there are brand new toiletries for you, including a toothbrush. 

Javi takes you to the bathroom and watches you while you brush your teeth, then he brings one of the other shopping bags into the bedroom. There’s a nightgown. The material is thin and it’s on the shorter side. Not exactly modest. Javi puts it on you, and at least it’s more comfortable than whomever’s shirt you were wearing. 

He gives you a thin pillow and pats the mattress for you to lie down. He cuffs you to the radiator. Then he goes to another room and comes back with a blanket. He tucks you in. 

“If you need to go to the bathroom or anything, just wake me up, okay?” He moves your wrist to clank the handcuffs on the radiator in demonstration. “I hope tonight won’t be bad, but you might start to feel sick, or get chills. That’s normal okay?” 

You nod.  

He pats your head affectionately and bids you goodnight. “Sweet dreams, mi pobrecita.” He goes to the bathroom to shower and brush his teeth. When he comes back in the room, you try not to watch him, but you hear him rustling around near the bed. You tilt your head up enough to steal a quick glance, and he’s taking off his shirt. He doesn’t get in his bed right away, but eventually you hear the mattress creak. 

—--

You wake up in the middle of the night feeling a little queasy, but you’re unsure if it’s the circumstances, the beans, or the detox. You can’t tell if you’re hot or cold, but this sleeping arrangement is not doing you any favors. You don’t want to wake Javi up, but the night feels like it might last forever otherwise. You rattle the cuffs against the metal. 

“Ay, pobrecita,” he whispers. “Okay, I’m coming.” He gets out of bed. 

He approaches you, barefoot. As soon as he kneels down, he mutters, “Ay, cabrón” (oh, bastard) under his breath and returns to his nightstand for the key. 

“It’s okay,” he reassures you when he comes back. He uncuffs you. As you sit up, he helps you with a warm hand on your back. ���What’s wrong?”

“Can I go to the bathroom?” 

“Yeah, of course,” Javi responds as if he didn’t handcuff you to a radiator. 

As he helps you up from the floor, something brushes your thigh and makes you tingle. Your body knows what it is before you do. When you register what grazed your leg through his sleep shorts, your face heats up and the tingle turns into a throb. Javi walks you to his bathroom with one arm around you in case you have trouble. He takes you all the way to the toilet. “You good?” he asks. 

“Yeah, do you mind if I?”

“Sure.” He backs up into the doorframe, but he doesn’t close it. You glance over, and he’s not hiding the massive tent in his shorts. He’s not shy about it at all. He’s also not trying to do anything about it. “Alright, I’ll be right here.” He closes the door halfway and stands outside. You sit there for a few minutes on the cool tile in front of the toilet. The urge to be sick has passed. He peeks his head in to check on you. “How about some water?”

“Okay,” you nod. He comes in and helps you up, hard-on still blazing. He takes an empty, upside-down glass from his clean bathroom counter, fills it up, and hands it to you. You’re aching at the silhouette of his length just casually standing at attention. It takes all your energy not to look right at his shorts. 

“Good girl,” he gently palms the back of your head. 

You try to look anywhere but down. You focus on his bare chest. His chain drapes over his collar bone and sits above his strong, golden pecs. There’s a light smattering of dark, soft hair. And then, lower, a happy trail.  You yank your eyes away. You look at the counter: A brush, a comb. Maybe he does his mustache with that. You look at his hair. It’s messy, out of place. Bedhead looks good on him. He casually rakes his hand through it when he sees you looking. Your gaze drifts back to his body. It’s really a beautiful torso you’re looking at. Broad shoulders, strong arms, narrow waist. A hint of abs under the light padding of his flesh. 

“You okay?” he asks with his puppy dog eyes, which gives you an idea.

“Yeah.” You look up at him, widen your eyes, and let your face fall. 

He nods. “Back to bed?”

You hold your wrist as if it hurts from the cuff and nod sadly. You check his shorts in the corner of your eye–yeah, it’s still there, as commanding as ever. The tent bobs as he walks. He walks you back into the bedroom and pauses at your futon mattress on the floor. He reaches for your hand and holds it as his other thumb brushes the indentation on your wrist. 

“You’re sure you don’t want the bed?” He nods toward the other room with the restraints. 

“I’d love a bed, but no. That one’ll give me nightmares, I’m sure.” 

He nods thoughtfully. “Are you asking to sleep in *my* bed?” His thumb continues to brush the indentation from the cuffs. His light touch gives you butterflies. 

“It’s okay,” you reassure him and your hand joins his, on your wrist. His thumb freezes. Your fingers rest lightly on top of his. “I guess I’m okay down there.” You glance at the mattress on the floor.  

His bare chest rises with a deep breath. “You’re being such a good girl,” he marvels with your hand on his. “Come on. It’s okay.” He guides you to his bed and pauses when you’re right in front of it. He faces you and puts his hands on your shoulders. He dips his head and his tone darkens. “But if you leave this bed, things are going to change here,” he warns. “And you’re not going to like it.” He shakes his head. The gentleness of his voice and the look on his face sends a chill down your spine. 

-

Javi gets into his bed, under the covers. He lays on his side and makes room for you, albeit not much. “I still have to restrain you,” he informs you as you lie down. “Do you want the cuffs or my arm?”

“Your arm.”

“Good girl.” He extends one arm and raises the other, making room for you.

You scoot back against him, mentally bracing yourself for what awaits under the covers. You're already twitching before you feel it. He inhales sharply as the hardness in his shorts hits you. With a hand on your lower abdomen, he pulls you into him, and his stiff length presses against you.  

“I’m sure that’s not going to bother you, is it?” he asks and your breath hitches. You shake your head just barely on the off chance he wanted a real answer. But it is, it's going to bother you as long as he won't put it in you. You’re human, you can’t help it. He’s a bad person but you can only imagine what a good lay. He curls his strong, lean body around you like a big spoon, and he nestles the warm rod in his shorts against your crack.

One bicep is under your neck. His other arm settles over your waist. You don’t need to test his strength to know his arm is solid. Heavy. There’s no escaping as long as he holds this position. 

He inhales your hair, and the hand in front of you cups your breast through your thin nightgown. He slowly palms your breast, and lightly grinds against you. You can’t help but push back on him. The shape of his arousal against you makes you salivate. 

He whispers just above your ear.  “Sure do love cock, don’t you?”

As he thrusts against you at a slow, steady rhythm, his hand slides off your breast, down your gown, sliding over your stomach and down to the fleshy triangle where your thighs meet. His hand stays flat. He doesn’t dig between your legs. He gently presses your mound, bringing you back against him harder as his cock throbs even harder against you. 

“That can be a good thing for recovery,” he offers. “You need something to replace that high.”

He thrusts against you slower, lighter. It’s excruiating. “Mmm.” He begins to gather the nightgown’s fabric into a fist, raising the hem of the gown and exposing more of you to the air between the sheets. No underwear. 

His hand rests on the bare skin of your lower abdomen, then slides down just low enough that his middle finger can tease your most sensitive place. He slides further down until his middle finger reaches the pool between your legs and he growls almost silently. He begins to move his fingers between your legs. Slowly, expertly, leaving his thumb and pinky braced on your front. The movement is just enough to drive you crazy. His index and middle fingers slide through your dripping folds and apply pressure to your swollen bud, moving to the rhythm of his gentle thrusts against your crack. 

“Mm,” your moan is barely audible.

“Ohh, I know,” Javi coos reassuringly. “I know.” He ruts against you slowly. He sighs as he moves against you. The heft of his arousal pushing against both asscheeks makes you weak. If only he’d just stuff your pussy. You can hardly stand it. He must feel you gush on his fingers. “Oh, yeah,” he whispers into your hair. His throbbing erection grinds against you. His hand leaves your cunt and you feel cold, exposed. He pulls down the waistband of his shorts, then his hand–wet fingers and all–slightly lifts your thigh, making your heart skip a beat. 

He wedges his naked cock between your thighs, right against your cunt, and you gasp. His swollen tip glides through your wetness and you moan, “Ohh.” He slowly slides forward and back through the warm, wet pocket made by your thighs and cunt. You push back against him. “Mm,” he grunts softly as his tip reaches your clit. 

His hand returns to your breast. He massages your breast as his cock keeps sliding between your thighs and nudging your sensitive bud just right. “Javi,” you whisper. “Please.” His cock hesitates at your entrance, and you tilt your hips. 

“Not today, sweetheart.” 

With a small thrust, he bypasses your wet little hole again. 

Then he stops moving. You push your ass back into him, and he does nothing but tighten his arm over you. He cradles your breast gently. You’re throbbing, aching to have him inside you. It feels like an eternity you’re lying like this with his arousal throbbing against your naked heat. You begin to feel a chill again and reach for the blanket to wrap yourself tighter. He helps you, then murmurs. “Good night”  into your hair. 

The comfort of his arms and rhythm of his breath lulls you to sleep sooner than you expect. 

—-...------

Just after daybreak, you awake to the sound of Javi breathing heavily  as his cock slides against your wet cunt again. Your chest is hot and fluttering. He’s aggressively groping one breast, then shifts to the other with a grunt and harsh thrust. Your body shifts as you wake up. He pants, “Morning sunshine,” and you push your ass back against him. 

“Was I good?” you ask. 

“Ohh,” he moans, “You were good.” 

His hand comes between your legs and you gasp at the pressure of his thick fingers on your clit. He doesn’t move them, just rests his hand there, then asks “Would you like to cum?”

You nod, “Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please,” you whine as his cock glides against you. 

He slows way down. “Because I’m only giving you one today. You sure you want it already?”

“Yeah,” you confirm. 

“It’s not even seven a.m.”

“Please, Javi.” 

He begins to move his thick fingers, and it doesn’t take long at all before you’re seeing stars. 

“Ohh,” you moan as the waves of pleasure begin to overtake you. Your body spasms, and your walls clench around nothing. 

“Mmmm, mi putita. . .por supuesto ahorita” (My little slut. Of course right now), Javi purrs into your hair. “That’s the–ohhh–thing with addicts,” he pants as he chases his own orgasm. “You want everything right–mmm—now–ohhhh.” As Javi begins to cum, he moves his hand from your clit to his cock. His cock pulses against you, and it’s too easy to imagine it inside you. He cups his hand and seals it over his tip and your front. He slowly thrusts as he cums. He slides against you, coating your folds and clit with his warm spend as your own climax fades. 

When Javi is empty, he withdraws his cock, but keeps his hand in place. He rubs his spend over your oversensitive parts, making you flinch and moan. 

“Ohh, I know it sweetheart.”

A thick digit breaches your entrance, pushing some cum into you, and he sighs.

“One day, pobrecita. One day.” He adds another finger. “Voy a llenar esta concha con leche” (I’m gonna fill this pastry/cunt with milk/cum).

Your first morning waking up at Javi’s place, he lets you sit at the kitchen counter and watch him make huevos rancheros and cactus. 

Over breakfast, he asks, “What do you like to do?”

You shrug.

“Because getting high replaced all your hobbies,” he concludes. 

“That's not true.”

“It's not? Then what do you do? Draw? Write? Do you read?”

You scoff. “Yes, I read,” you say with an eye roll and can’t help but add, “Did kidnapping replace all your hobbies?” 

There's an instant surge of regret in your chest, but Javi chuckles and lets it slide. “What kind of books? I could pick one up for you.”

You swallow, rest your fork, and ask, “really?” 

“Sure,” He nods. 

“Okay. Maybe a mystery,” you offer, only because you know you'll need the distraction.

“Good,” he nods. “A mystery.”

Later that day, Javi has to go into the office. He leaves a glass of water for you, a bucket just in case, and he cuffs you to the radiator. He reassures you Steve will come check on you as soon as he gets home. You try your best to get comfortable on the futon mattress. 

As soon as Javi leaves, things go somewhat downhill. You have a headache, then your stomach begins to bother you, and the handcuffs are driving you crazy. You’re anxious. You're horny. You’re cold. Why are you horny? After about an hour, you rattle the cuffs on the radiator. When nothing happens, you yell for Steve, then hear movement upstairs. 

When Steve comes into Javi’s apartment, you hear him open the door, but it doesn’t sound like it shuts all the way. His footsteps are loud as they approach through the living room. Steve unlocks Javi’s bedroom and pauses in the doorframe. “There she is.” He rests his hands on the top of the doorframe and leans forward, stretching his back as he takes in the scene. “Damn,” he mutters. “You alright?”

“Can I go to the bathroom?”

“Yeah, darlin’.” He digs into Javi’s nightstand for the key. “Hold on.” He comes over and crouches down on the floor. He smells like cigarettes, and he must smoke the same brand as Javi. 

You're mildly surprised by the way your body reacts to Steve’s proximity. You squeeze your legs together, self conscious that you’re gushing. The day before, you were so focused on Javi that you didn’t think much of Steve at the time. But after overhearing him jack off. . .There’s something about hearing a man make those primal noises. It changes his whole face, his whole presence in your eyes. 

“C’mere,” Steve offers and extends his massive hands, looming over you. You sit up on your knees, careful not to expose yourself with no panties. He slots his hands under your arms and helps you to your feet. He checks you out and raises an eyebrow. You wonder if he can see through your nightgown. “He’s still got ya in your PJs, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s alright.” 

“Looks good on ya, anyway.” 

Steve ushers you to the restroom and waits outside. You’re starting to feel a little better already, just having someone around again. His presence distracts your body from its woes.

-

When you’re out of the restroom, Steve asks if you need anything else. You ask for a glass of juice. He brings you to the kitchen to get some. The sound of children playing outside echoes from the breezeway and you notice the door isn’t shut flush. Before you can really think about it, you begin to walk toward the door, heart pounding. You’re barefoot, and realistically, you’re not going to try to flee, but you want to know you could. You’re not running, you’re walking slowly, curiously as though pulled by a weak magnet toward a chance at freedom. 

Steve crosses the room in two strides and steps right into your path. His massive arm wraps around you, halting you dead in your tracks. “Wouldn't do that.” His face is stone. Instinctively, you begin to struggle, not to escape, but to get out of his strong grip. His body overwhelms yours.  

His arm tightens, and you whine, “Ow.” 

He shakes you once, then loosens his grip. He brings his mouth to your hair and lowers his voice.  “Don't make me hurt ya, sugar.” He wraps his arm around your middle and begins to drag you toward the bedroom with the creepy bed. He wrangles you over to the bed with the straps. You don’t resist much, but he’s rough with you anyway. 

“Okay, okay,” you tell him. “I’m sorry.” 

He throws you down on the bed and pins you with his weight, then begins to strap you in, limb by limb. Your heart is racing. But you don’t feel sick at all anymore. All you feel is the rush. 

“Ya know, I should tell Agent Peña ‘bout this,” Steve mutters as he buckles your wrist. 

“No, don’t. Tell him I was good. Please. I wasn’t trying to do anything.” 

“Yeah, alright. We’ll see.” The bed is probably full sized. Wider than a twin. The leg restraints are spaced out enough that you feel like you’re spread eagle. 

Once you’re all strapped down, Steve slowly paces next to the bed looking at you like a piece of meat. 

He asks, “True you were beggin’ for cock?”

“No,” you answer as a gut reaction. 

“Ya weren't? Huh. Peña’s a liar?” 

“He–he got me all worked up on purpose.”

Steve freezes near the foot of the bed and cracks a smile. “So it is true. . .Hmm.” He tilts his head contemplatively.  “How'd he do that? Get ya all worked up.” He dangles his fingers to graze your bare ankle. Then he walks back up toward your head, dragging his fingertips over your shin. His fingers lightly circles your kneec twice, then continue up your thigh. He pauses and strokes an abstract pattern on your inner thigh. 

You don’t answer him. You don’t have to. He’s already having an effect on you. 

“Well, don't worry. I'm not gonna hold out on ya. Want somethin’ from me, sugar? Just ask.” 

“Thanks.”

“It's ok, baby.” He lowers his voice. “Really don't mind one bit.” He looks at you hungrily and wets his lips. His fingers get closer and closer to the apex of your thighs. When his fingers graze your outer lip, he peeks under the gown. “He left the door open for me. That was nice,” Steve smiles. “Said ya got a gorgeous pussy, too.”  Your legs tense, and his hand returns to your thigh. “Nothin’ to be afraid of, darlin’.” 

The leather that’s holding you down is what scares you. It’s the most unsettling feeling. 

Steve adjusts himself, and when you follow his hand, you can't pull your eyes away from the bulge in his pants. Wow. He doesn't wear his pants nearly as tight on his ass as Javi, so you hadn't even thought about Steve’s dick. Now it's all you can think about. You're studying the shape his pants are struggling to contain. Never would’ve thought. And, balls. You’re pretty sure he’s got big balls. You wet your lips and realize you're staring. 

“Attagirl,” he mutters. “See, that's where my partner and I have different philosophies,” Steve explains. “I could care less if you're drunk, high, outta your mind.”  The hand on your thigh slides all the way up to where your thigh meets your torso. “Good pussy’s good pussy.” He traces the crease, right next to your outer lips, and his light touch makes you tingle. “I think a pretty girl deserves all the dick she wants.” He sighs, then raises his eyebrows. “And then some,” he says with a short nod. 

“His heart’s in the right place,” Steve says unconvincingly. “Hurts though, don’t it?” He pouts at you as he keeps tracing the crease of your inner thigh. “Never met a whore he didn’t fuck. . .n’ can’t be bothered to give ya just an inch.

He follows your eyes back to his crotch and chuckles darkly. “Boy, you got your eye on the prize, don't ya?” He looks down at himself. 

“Mmm,” he grunts when he meets your eyes again. The humor is gone from his face.

He looks at the leather strap around your arm. “I’ll take mercy on ya,” he mutters and takes his hand out from between your legs. He pauses with his hands on the strap.  “Gonna be good for me?”

“Yeah,” you nod.

He unbuckles the strap. The metal of the buckle flicks against your inner arm. You don’t move your arm, making good on your promise to be good. Then the mattress creaks and groans as he gets up on the bed with you. He straddles one of your knees and leans forward, bracing his right hand on the mattress near your torso. His left hand returns between your legs. This time, he goes straight for your cunt. He smiles when he feels how wet you are. He lightly rubs you, teasing your dripping folds up and down. He falls into a trance. He gathers your slick and brings it to your clit. He scoots up on the bed so his head is above yours and his crotch is at your hip. He looks into your eyes as he circles your most sensitive spot. A knot is already forming in your stomach, making your pelvis lift into his hand. He wets his bottom lip, then bites it as he adds more pressure. Then speed. Your mouth falls open and a moan slips out. 

His lips form a small ‘o’. “Ooh,” he marvels. “Oh, you’re a real sweet thing, I can tell.” His fingertips slide down, and one of them teases your entrance, making an audible, rhythmic smacking sound.  Then he slowly pushes the finger inside. His eyes roll up toward the ceiling, and his head tilts up too. You watch his neck veins. There’s some faded tattoo ink barely visible on his chest, poking up from his collar when the angle is right. He presses his hard bulge against your hip and you gasp with a bolt of arousal.

“Yeah,” he whispers, and you moan. “Yeah, ya want that, don’t ya?” He gives you another slow thrust against the hip.  “You want it right here.” He pushes another finger into you. “Ohh, yeah.” His upper palm massages your clit as his fingers pump into you.

“You’ll get it, don’t worry.” You twitch at the thought. “But you’re gonna cum on these fingers first. Hear me?”

You nod and take a deep breath. Your back arches. You reach for his pants. 

“There ya go,” he nods as if that’s why he unbuckled you in the first place. “Ohh, you’re gonna go wild.” 

You grab his bulge–it’s more than a handful–and massage him through his pants. 

“Mmm. Yeah,” he whispers. Your nipples harden with his practiced touch, and you sigh, unable to take any more tension. His fingers curl inside you and he whispers, “C’mon, now.” The deep whisper is enough. 

“Ohh,” you moan. He nods in encouragement and his upper palm bears down on your clit. You close your eyes and let yourself unravel. Your spasming walls squeeze and soak his fingers. 

“Yeahh, attagirl.”  

As your climax fades, he withdraws his fingers and feverishly unbuckles his belt. You throb in anticipation. It won't take much to tease another one out of you. Your core twitches as he shoves down his briefs and his thick cock springs free, taking your breath away. He gets between your legs and holds his stiff manhood loosely as he lines himself up. He shakes it heavily up and down, teasing your clit with the head of his cock. Oh, God it feels so–you’re already about to–

–Steve hesitates.  

In the driveway, a car pulls up and stops. 

Steve stops what he’s doing. “Alright, let's see what the boss wants,” he says with an air of inconvenience as he tucks his erection into his briefs.

“Thought you were partners,” you say and hope you don't sound too disappointed. 

“On paper, sure. “ He buttons and zips up his pants. “On paper I'm a good cop, too,” he winks. 

Steve pats your cheek and says, “hang in there.” He gets off the bed, then leans in close and whispers, “give it to ya next chance I get. . .skip the preamble, how's that?” 

You bite your lip. Just as the front door begins to unlock, Steve sits down in a chair next to the bed, with his hands clasped in his lap. 

—--

Javi opens the door. 

“All good at the office?” Steve asks. 

“All good,” Javi reports, and he surveys you with his eyes as he approaches. “What’s going on here?” 

“Oh, she just wanted a change of scenery,” Steve reports, mercifully. Javi looks at him skeptically for a moment, then shrugs it off. 

“How are you feeling?” Javi asks you with a hand on his hip and a serious look. He sits on the edge of the bed, facing you and Steve, who’s on the same side. 

“Okay,” you reply. 

Javi clenches his jaw and furrows his brow. His hand frames your jaw and he looks at your eyes. Then he lets go of you.

"Good," Javi nods. Then squints and asks, "He touch you?"

You look at Steve. Steve raises his eyebrows curiously. He doesn't deny touching you, but his face also doesn't give you any clues about the right answer. He’s sitting in amused suspense. Javi raises his eyebrows at you like a challenge, waiting on you to speak. You look at Steve again, and Steve winks. Unsure what it means, you begin to slowly shake your head no.

Javi clenches his jaw and his eyes narrow. His head whips to Steve and he asks, "Why not?" 

Steve sighs and uncrosses his arms. He extends his hand to Javi. Javi brings Steve's hand to his nose, takes a whiff of his fingers, and cracks a smile.  "Don't lie to me, putita." Javi closes his eyes, draws in your scent again, then opens his eyes and mouth as he brings Steve's middle and index fingers to his lips. Javi locks eyes with you as he tastes you on Steve's fingers. Your heart races. You failed whatever test this was. 

Javi drops Steve's hand and brings his own hand to cup your jaw. "Pobrecita. . ." His hand dwarfs your face. "What’s the matter? Te confunde?” (It confuses you)

You nod, and your voice is small.  "You said it's yours." 

"What's mine?"

You look down at yourself and swallow. "My body?"

Javi nods. "Say it." 

Your eyes settle on what you can see of his gold chain under his shirt.  "This pussy is yours." 

"That's right," Javi nods condescendingly. "Good girl."  He brings his hand from your cheek to your thigh and squeezes it. He nods toward Steve and says, "con mi permiso" (with my permission).  "Still confused?" 

You shake your head. 

“That's all he did? Touch you?”

“Yeah,” you nod. 

Javi addresses Steve. "Alright, c’mon.”  He beckons him, and Steve stands up with his hands still clasped in front of himself. 

“Show her your cock.”

Steve undoes his pants again. He slides them down over the bulge of his still-hard cock, then pauses. 

“Pants off,” Javi adds matter-of-factly. Steve sits back down to unlace his shoes, then takes them off. He pulls off his pants, and he's left wearing black socks and white briefs with a red and blue stripe around the waistband. Thigh muscles are massive. 

“Good news for you, putita.” Javi nods toward Steve. “This one’ll fuck anything.” Your cheeks heat up and Steve shakes his head in amusement at Javi. 

“Says the guy who has his own room at a brothel.” 

Javi looks at your body hungrily and crosses his arms. “Give it to her,” he mutters without looking at Steve. 

When Steve stands up, Javi takes his place, manspreading with his hands tucked under his arms, straining his short-sleeve button-up.

-

Steve mounts the bed again, putting himself between your legs. He pulls his briefs down under his balls, and you let out a little gasp. His cock is even more engorged than it was before. It’s so thick, and the veins are beautiful. He looks even bigger than Javi, but it might be an effect of his lighter, finer pubic hair. He braces a hand on the mattress again, hovering over you.

You glance at Javi and he's watching intently as Steve lines up his cock between your legs. The touch of his tip at your dripping hole makes you shiver in arousal and your nipples pucker. Steve smiles to himself under his mustache. He notches his tip half inside your entrance, then looks at Javi. 

Javi makes a subtle beckoning motion with one hand, and Steve begins to push into you. You gasp as his girth begins to spread you open. He pushes further, and you whimper. 

Javi scoots closer and lays a big, warm hand on your tied-down arm. You look at him and he reassures you, “You can take it, I promise.” 

Then, Steve plunges to the hilt, dividing your insides with a loud grunt. You moan and lock eyes with him as he looks up at you darkly. Your body rushes to accommodate the heft of him inside you.

“Good girl,” Javi mutters to himself with his eyes fixed where your bodies are joined. 

Steve withdraws most of his length, then Javi raises his palm in a stop motion and Steve freezes, biting his lips together. Javi stands up, and walks toward Steve for a better point of view. 

“Go,” Javi mutters, crossing his arms again. There's a bulge growing in Javi’s restrictive jeans, and he's not doing anything about it. 

Steve pushes into you again, making you moan. He pauses for only an instant before backing out again, and right away he’s pushing back in. “Fuck,” he mutters as his thick cock disappears into your hole once more. 

“How is it?” Javi asks him. “Juicy, right?”

“Nngh–yeah,” Steve answers as he brings his hips back, then slams into you harder and his balls slap against you. “Goddamn,” Steve mutters. “Tighter than ya’d think.”

“Hm,” Javi hums with a straight face, then raises his eyes to meet yours. “He's gonna break you in for me.” He looks at Steve's cock sliding out of you then at Steve's face, twisted with arousal. “Right, partner?”

“Goddamn right,” Steve breathes. He ramps up to a steady rhythm, fucking you gradually harder until the force is pushing you up on the bed. 

“Hold on,” Javi mutters and the vein on Steve's forehead swells with effort as he stops with only his tip inside. Steve wets his lips and rubs them together. Javi tightens the restraints to hold you steady. While Javi is is busy with that,  Steve rocks ever so slightly into you, moving less than an inch forward and back. It’s so subtle it could be an accident, but it must provide relief because he moans quietly. At the sound of his noise and the look of his face, you whimper and your cunt spasms once. 

“Nngh,” Steve reacts. 

“Okay,” Javi announces, then stands so he can roughly see things from Steve’s point of view again. Steve resumes with a slow, careful pace. 

Javi wets his lips as he watches your cunt swallow Steve's cock. Steve's cock pulls at your pussy each time it withdraws, and the sight seems to darken Javi’s eyes with lust. You twitch again.  

“Fuck,” Steve breathes, then looks over his shoulder “Can I?”

“Don't let her come on your cock,” Javi answers.” 

Hearing Javi talk about Steve’s cock is almost enough to do it. 

Steve sighs and looks at the ceiling, in an almost eye-roll. His arms strain his shirt. His sweat wafts toward you and makes your knees weak. He draws in a deep breath as he slowly pushes in again. 

You imagine if the situation was different, if you were just some slut they picked up at a bar, how much fun you could have with the two of them. 

You twitch around him, and he pulls out in a hurry. “Sorry darlin’,” he mumbles. He sits back on his knees and pumps himself. “Where do you want it,” he asks, staring at your body.

“Uh,” you stammer, then realize he's not asking you. 

Javi pulls the gown down under your tits. Steve strokes himself faster until his breath gets uneven. He pauses, scoots up your body to straddle your middle, then resumes.  You admire his balls as his fist slides up and down his shaft. His hand is so large, yet it doesn’t dwarf his cock. 

Steve’s eyes narrow at your tits. He pumps himself faster and his mouth drifts open until he points his cock at your chest and moans, “Ohhh—ohhhh, fuck,” painting your tits with his cum. Your nipples sharpen as the warm spend spreads. As the last of his cum dribbles out, Steve sighs. 

“Good,” Javi mutters, then comes up toward the head of the bed again. Steve tucks his softening cock away and gets off the bed. He reaches down to the floor to get a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of his jeans. Then he pulls the chair toward the foot of the bed, and manspreads in his briefs to watch Javi. 

Javi dips two fingers into Steve’s cum on your chest. He spreads it around slowly. He circles each of your nipples until they’re painfully erect. 

Javi swipes up a bit of cum from between your breasts and brings his fingers to your lips. You take his thick digits into your mouth and taste the salt of Steve’s seed. Then you gently suck. Javi gets you to clean both fingers, one at a time, then he licks them himself. 

Javi brushes your temple with his thumb. “Let’s hope this is rock bottom.”

—---

Thank you so much for reading. To help with the next ones, I would love to know what you liked most about it, and your thots are welcome, too 🖤

tagging people who asked for part 2 🖤

@yesjazzywazzylove-blog @ohheypedrito @weddingfairy @neobanguniberse @ladyscarlettdixon @zliteraturehoe @planet-marz1

[toxicbrothel]

thinking about Trouble reader leading Steve on at the HOG barbecue.

Letting him corner you in the butler kitchen and even grabbing the bulge in his khakis when he cages you to the counter. Tricking him into going down to the wine cellar and waiting for you. Sending him a picture of your wet fingers saying "hope you're as ready as I am." Then Joel walks in on Steve taking a picture of his hard dick. Joel quickly realizes what you did and calls you. "Get down here." You start to ask where.."don't play stupid." Then he makes you come while Steve watches and perhaps won't let Steve out of the cellar until he comes. 🏃‍♀️

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

Framing Escobar Chapter 8 La Gatita

General Warnings: 18+, as is the whole of my blog, I will mark anything specific but be aware this is predominantly a smutty blog festuring porn with plot. DNI if you are a minor. By reading further you have taken the responsibility to do so with the warnings I have given.

Specific Warnings: Threat to Reader; vomit/vomiting; food and alcohol consumption; Unsolicited Photos; Survaillance of Reader, Canon-Typical Violence; Canon Divergence; Javier Peña Has a Big Dick (Narcos); Grumpy Javier Peña (Narcos); Sweet Javier Peña (Narcos); Protective Steve Murphy (Narcos); Sex; Rough Sex; Choking; Unprotected Sex; unprotected piv; Penis In Vagina Sex; Power Dynamics; Javier Peña Smut (Narcos); Fluff. Let me know if I missed any!

[AO3]

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“The kitten.” You say to yourself as your stomach drops like a lead balloon. Your fingers tremble violently as you tear open the envelope. You feel your knees go weak as the thundering roar of your heartbeat fills your ears.

The stack of photographs in your hand make you feel sick. Bile rises in your throat as you leaf through them all. One for every day you had been out on the street in Bogota and Medellín over the last two months.

But they pale in comparison to what you see next. You look over the last four and you can’t hold back the bile rising to your throat as you run to the sink. The watery vomit burns your throat and tongue as you empty your stomach contents.

You stand trembling over the edge of the sink for a moment, glad you had chosen to wear your hair up. You straighten back up and lay the photos on the counter. Four separate shots of you at the bar. Every single round you had bought that night recorded in the photos.

It was targeted.

You try not to panic. But you aren’t naive, there’s a very real – potentially lethal – target on your back. You jump again as you hear a rhythmic knocking at the door and your blood runs cold.

It’s just Javi, just Javi.

You repeat over and over in your head as you quickly fill a glass of water and gargle before spitting into the sink. You rinse the glass and the sink as best as you can before re-applying your lipstick. At the last moment you grab your purse and sling it over your shoulder, one hand in the bag already wrapped around your gun.

You could feel your hands trembling against the pistol but you take a deep breath and look through the peep hole. Relief rushes through you and you wrench the door open maybe a little too eagerly.

“Evening-,” Javi’s voice catches in his throat as he takes you in. You are similarly stunned as you slowly drink him in. He’s in a tight black shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His buttons are fastened almost as low as your neckline, showing off the smooth tan skin beneath. A thin gold chain glitters against his chest. His beige slacks hug his hips and brush against the maroon dress shoes at his ankle. His sunglasses are nowhere to be seen, he’s clean shaven, moustache trimmed neatly, and his hair is slicked back with pomade.

“You look amazing.” You breathe and Javi snaps back to reality as his dark eyes meet yours. His tongue drags across his bottom lip slowly as he seemingly battles with a thought behind those glassy eyes.

“I have no words for how beautiful you are tonight.” He says breathily as he begins to extend his hand out to your cheek. He pauses, realising he might be overstepping but you step forward and press your cheek gently into his large palm. He trembles at the contact as you place a soft, chase kiss to the base of his thumb.

“I’d ask you in,” you purr, the photographs forgotten for now. Javier Peña is all you could think about, all you want to think about right now, “But I need to know what this surprise is.” you finish as you take his wrist gently in your hand.

You pull his hand from your cheek, and you see the disappointment on Javi’s face. You smirk before pulling his thumb to your lips. You lock eyes with him as you press it between your lips, torturously slow. You groan at the sharp hiss that escapes his mouth.

“Cariño...” he growls, but it’s clearly all he can manage as he watches you – transfixed – as you take his thumb up to the first knuckle and suck gently before slowly pulling it back out. A ring of lipstick is left just below the joint and Javi exhales through his flared nostrils as you watch his eyes swim with desire.

“Come on, Peña, if this goes well, I’ll leave lipstick somewhere else.” You drop his hand and turn to walk towards the stairs. You make it two steps before your spun around, Javi pulls you tight against his chest and the look he gives you sends the heat of arousal straight to your already aching core.

“You’re going to pay for that cariño, and you’re going to enjoy every second of it.” He growls as his fingertips brush against your jaw.

“I’m counting on it.” you say with a hum as his hand finds your throat. He holds you tightly, but not painfully, as he turns your head to the side. His nose finds your ear, pressing against the sensitive skin, and he breathes slowly over your neck before placing a soft, lingering kiss on your trembling flesh.

“Going to put that bratty little mouth to good use.” he hums against your skin before abruptly letting you go. You almost collapse at the sudden lack of sensation and glare up at him. But you suppose you deserve any teasing you get.

“Come on, Peña, what’s so important about this surprise?” you ask with an indignant huff punctuation your question.

“Oh, you’ll see.” Javi hurriedly pulls you by the hand down the stairs and as soon as you’re in the truck you notice a look on his face you can’t quite discern. You cock your head at him and narrow your eyes.

“You trust me?” he asks and you want to say no, to fuck with him, but something about the look in his eyes makes you reconsider.

“Yes, Javi, completely,” you answer and his face lights up. as he leans over to the glove box, his forearm brushes against your knee and you gasp, unable to hold it in as the electric current ghosts over your skin.

“Put this on,” he orders as he hands you a red silk scarf.

“You mean around my neck? Or?” you tease, already knowing what he means but you couldn’t help it. You love watching him roll his eyes at you when you’re bratty. Almost on cue his dark eyes roll as he shake his head.

“Turn.” He says and you obey this time, your body trembling in excitement as the smooth fabric covers your eyes. His hands make quick work of the double knot, and you’re fully blindfolded as you feel his calloused hands brush against your skin. Small, lingering touches move down your spine before he pulls away, the rumble of the truck snapping you back to reality.

***

The truck stops and you’re practically vibrating with anticipation as you try and figure out where you are. The warm night air hits you as Javi gets out on his side, in a matter of seconds your door opens. You smell the hints of tobacco, and his cologne as he gently touches your hand. You swivel in your seat and press your hand into his. Slowly he helps you out of the vehicle and is guiding you up a flight of stairs. You can hear music as you ascend the steps, the smell of street food on the air. You’re still trying to figure it out as he brings you to a stop.

“Javi come on when can I take off-?” the silk falls away from your eyes and you gasp at the sight before you. You were at the edge of a plaza filled with lights, stalls, and most importantly artists painting, sculpting, singing, dancing all around you. You turn to Javi with tears in your eyes and he looks down at you with a triumphant smile.

“Javi what is this?” you ask, your lips parted in awe as you fight the urge to kiss him.

“It’s a monthly festival of art, I thought you might like it.”

“Like doesn’t cut it Javi, this is amazing,” your voice is barely more than a whisper as you hold back the tears of joy. A single tear betrays you and before you can wipe it away Javi’s soft lips catch it on your cheek. You lean against him and breathe him in, the gesture melting all remnants of ill will from your mind.

“Come on, let’s get some food, and a drink,” he says softly against your skin before nudging you in the direction of the food stalls. You don’t argue, the butterflies in your stomach not enough to disguise the ravenous hunger that has suddenly crept up on you. Javi offers you his arm and you take it, relishing the contact.

“No argument here.” You say as you squeeze against him.

You spend the next few hours talking to local artists, vendors, and musicians, with Javi’s help where your Spanish failed you. You eat too much food and drink maybe a little too much beer. But you didn’t care, you’re in your element.

You’ve already bought a few small knickknacks to put on some of your the bare surfaces in your apartment. But it isn’t until you see the last vendor’s work do you truly fall in love with something so much you have to have it.

The stall is filled with oil on canvas art of the jungles and rainforests of Colombia, bright splashes of jewel tones intermingled with the dense greens and rich browns of the jungle. One stands out to you more than the others. An intricate painting of a hummingbird drinking from a bright pink flower. Somehow the artist has managed to capture the iridescent blues, greens and purples as well as the speckled reds and oranges on the underbelly and tail feathers.

“That’s a colourful puffleg,” you say softly to Javi as you stand transfixed.

“That’s a stupid name,” he scoffs and you jab him softly in the side.

“I didn’t name it, cabrón,” you grumble as you hail the artist as he finishes up with another customer. You enquire about the painting in Spanish, not needing Javi’s help this time and all the while you can feel his gaze on you as he caresses the column on your spine with two fingers. The artist wraps up the piece and you hand over the money.

“¡Buenas noches!” you call to the vendor as he is already pulled away by another interested party.

“You happy there, cariño?” Javi whispers in your ear and you lean back into him, you nod as you feel his arms wrap around you, careful not to jostle the wrapped canvas in your hands.

“More than happy, Javi,” you say with your eyes closed, savouring the moment as you feel Javi’s chest rise and fall against your back.

“Wanna head back to mine?” He breathes as his hands fall to your hips and his lips brush the top of your head.

“No, let’s go back to mine, I’ve got a brand-new Laphroaig twelve I’d like to share with you.”

“Deal, come on, I’m desperate for a taste,” he whispers against your scalp and you don’t know if he means the whiskey or you, but you didn’t care.

***

Your back hits the door with a hollow thud, you haven’t even made it inside your apartment. You hold the painting out to the side to protect it from Javi’s forceful embrace. His lips are moulded against yours as he licks hungrily into your mouth. His hands are fisted in the fabric of your dress, slowly pushing it up your thighs as his knee presses between your thighs.

“Been thinking about that moment in the stairwell for weeks baby. Feels so good to be able to kiss you again,” Javi breathes as he breaks the kiss, panting heavily.

“Same, Javi, fuck. I just had to be sure,” you groan as you hold him back, your eyes locking with his as you place your hands either side of his face.

“I know, baby, but I’m in this one hundred percent, no-one else, only you.” He breathes as his eyes flutter shut, his lips ghost along your left hand as he nips at the heel of your palm.

“So, do you want that drink, or are we just going to cut the shit?” you ask as you twitch under the sharp, blissful nibbles on your skin.

“Fuck the whiskey, all I want is you,” he growls, and you smile as you turn to open the door. You set the painting down for a second but the moment your hands are free Javi crowds you from behind.

His painfully obvious erection presses tight against your ass as you struggle to concentrate on the task at hand. His one hand is steadied on the doorframe, the other is on the inside of your thigh, riding up against the tight fabric of your dress as your vision blurs pleasantly. The painting is forgotten outside your apartment as you lose yourself to your desire.

You finally manage to unlock the door and you’re falling forward before Javi catches you with ease, He twirls you around as he pulls you against him. Your hands fly to his shirt and you hastily free him from the oppressively tight shirt scraping your nails down the exposed flesh of his chest. The guttural groan that bubbles from his throat has you like putty in his hands.

“Javi, take me to bed,” you say as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“As you wish,” he grunts as he picks you up, his hands firm on the meat of your ass as he presses you against him. His lips are on yours once more, the kiss hungry, aggressive. He stalks through the apartment and as soon as you’re across the threshold of the bedroom he throws you onto the bed. He stands at the edge of the bed and drinks in the sight of you, dishevelled hair, swollen lips, glassy eyes full of desire.

“Javi, c’mere,” you mumble as you squirm under his gaze. He unbuckles his slacks and lets them drop to his ankles. He kicks them off along with his shoes and stands there, thumbs in the waistband of his tight white briefs as he looks down at you hungrily.

“Javi please,” You beg. You reach behind you to fumble with the zipper on your dress as Javi drops onto the bed, his knees either side of your hips as he snatches at your wrists, pushing them above your head before transferring them both to his left. His large hands have no trouble keeping you in place as you tug against his grip playfully.

“So needy, cariño, you miss me this much?” he purrs as he holds your jaw in place, forcing you to look into his hungry eyes. He hovers over you, his strong nose nudging along yours before dipping lower.

“So much, Javi, missed you so much,” you groan as his nose ghosts your jaw.

“Been playing hard to get for weeks hermosa, thought you didn’t want me anymore,” he presses a lingering kiss just behind your ear and the sensation makes you writhe under him.

“Always wanted you, Javi. Always.”

“You’re going to do what I say, ok?” he asks as he trails kisses down your neck.

“Anything Javi, anything,” you plead, your cunt aches as your arousal builds, you don’t know how much more you can take before you explode. He lets your wrists go and you go to touch him but instantly you’re pinned again. You huff as his hands pin your wrists against the sheets, his eyes blown out, his eyebrow cocked as if to scold you.

“I need you to stay still, you trust me?” he asks once more, and you nod dutifully.

“Say it,” he growls as his grip tightens on your wrists.

“I trust you, Javi,” you say as you force your body to still.

“Good girl, let me take care of you,” he says, his voice low. He slowly peels off your dress, your bra and panties in practiced, precise motions. You’re bare under his gaze as he palms his throbbing cock through his briefs to relieve a little tension.

He kneels at the edge of the bed, and you gasp as he pulls you down the bed by your ankles to meet him. He wastes no time, prising apart your thighs as he buries his face between your slick folds. His tongue is unrelenting on your clit as he flicks the blunt tip against your clit. You shudder under him as you force your hands to stay where they are.

“God, I missed how good you taste, the way you twitch for me,” he moans into your cunt as he presses two fingers inside you with ease. Your hips buck upwards to meet them as he buries himself in you to the knuckle.

“So eager, baby, feel so good squeezing around my fingers,” he hums against your clit as he works you up into a blinding peak. Your chest heaves and your breath comes in ragged gasps as he pushes you over the edge. The blinding euphoria has you convulsing and clamping down on Javi’s thick fingers.

“Fuck I wanted to make you cum again, but I can’t wait, baby,” he says raggedly as he pulls his fingers out, savouring your slick on them as he sucks them clean.

“Javi, please, fuck me,” you beg as you pull his pruned fingers into your mouth. You savour the faint taste of your slick on his fingers as he eases them gently in and out of your mouth.  

“Such a dirty little mouth,” He breathes as he frees his erection from his boxers, shucking them off to the side. He lines up against your core and your head drops back, the anticipation is killing you.

“Look at me, baby,” He growls and you comply, looking up into his pussy-drunk eyes as he eases into you. The pressure rocks through you as he eases in, sinking deep into you as you arch your hips up to meet him. Your hand falls to your clit and his eyes sparkle with arousal. You work at yourself as he fucks down into you hard. His balls slapping lightly against your ass as he fills you up.

“So hot when you touch yourself like this,” he growls as a hand falls to your breast, coarse fingertips rolling your hardened peak between them. You groan up into it as you circle your clit vigorously. His other hand falls to your throat and he holds it there, not pressuring but looking down at you as he holds it there.

“This ok?” he asks and you nod firmly, he smirks but doesn’t accept that as an answer, but before he can ask again you’re there, willing and eager.

“Javi, choke me, please,” you mewl, fluttering your eyelashes at him as his grip tightens.

“Fuck,” he hisses through clenched teeth as the pressure builds on your windpipe, “Tap out if I get too rough baby, don’t want to hurt you,” he says as his grip tightens again.

The slight deprivation of oxygen thrills you, not unlike the blindfold over your eyes in the truck. It heightens your senses, and you feel yourself building higher to your orgasm as Javi fucks down into you. Your finger presses and rubs at your clit with just the right intensity as the pressure on your throat anchors you.

Javi pistons into you with desperation and your hips buck up to meet him with every thrust. You feel your orgasm building as Javi’s thrusts falter above you. You moan as he snaps his hips down into you, his hips slamming into you with such force as you feel pleasure streak through you. You cry out as you clamp down hard on his cock, coming with his name falling from you lips with every wave of pleasure.

Javi comes with a whine as you milk him dry. He empties inside you with two frantic, snapping thrusts before falling forwards. His head rests against your sternum as he pants through his own aftershocks.

“Fuck that was beautiful,” he breathes as your hands slowly press into the sweat-soaked locks at the nape of his neck. You pull him in for a tender, sloppy kiss and sigh as your lips part. Both of you are gasping for air, reeling.

“That was amazing, Javi. Fuck I’ve missed you,” you say as you hug your thighs against his abdomen, placing soft, erratic kisses to his forehead.

“Missed you too,” Your name falls from his lips, and you float on the full-bodied euphoria it brings you.

“Come on I need to clean up, and we need some water,” you laugh as you try to stop yourself from falling asleep with Javi still buried inside you.

Javi relents and lets you get up, heading to the kitchen to get both of you a drink. You head to the bathroom and clean yourself up. You slip on an oversized loose t-shirt before heading back into the bedroom. You had forgotten about the photos on the kitchen counter, but your stomach drops as you hear Javi swear from the other room. Your blood runs cold as you pad out into the open plan kitchen.

“What the fuck are these?”

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[jksprincess10]

Exile 2. Smartass

Summary: After Steve Murphy's unforgivable death in the never-ending fight against Pablo Escobar, Javier Peña finds himself stuck with a new partner. A girl that they brought from Miami. Smart, devastating, strong. Nothing he would have thought her to be. Their rivalry builds up to something intense, destructive.

CW: canon violence, mentions of death, smoking and drinking, language, bullshitting my way through the Narcos plot, no y/n (3rd person), no physical and racial descriptions of the girl, eventual smut. 1500 words.

Divider by @cafekitsune

Masterlist for exile

Notification blog

In the evening, most of her things found their rightful place. She didn’t have many dishes, but they all found a little space in the kitchen. The cupboards were mostly empty. At least, the apartment came with the basic furniture, a luxury that filled the quiet emptiness.

Her bathroom was full of her makeup items and her walk-in closet in her room overflew with clothes. Riri was still hiding in the closet. She would be hiding too, after meeting such a "nice" guy.

She got the basics for cooking meals for the following week. But she was too tired to cook anything big today, so she snacked on some cereals instead.

It was late when she heard Javier coming back home, door slamming shut. Great. The apartment wasn’t well insulated. She can also vaguely hear his TV.

She decides to sleep it off, not wanting to think too much about her new coworker who already seemed to despise her.

In the morning, she slips on a white shirt and black slacks after forcing herself to eat and drink coffee. She looks at the clock on her wrist. 6:58. She grabs her bag and goes outside to meet Javier in his Jeep. He’s already sitting, waiting for her, a cigarette between his lips.

“Morning.” She says.

“Almost late.” He responds as a greeting.

“I had two minutes to spare.” She argues as she rolls her eyes. “Your TV was loud yesterday.”

“Get used to it, princesa. Walls are thin here.”

She can almost see the hint of a smile around his cigarette. He’s wearing a light yellow shirt, a leather jacket, and dark jeans. The yellow looks good on his tan skin.

“Where are you from, Agent Peña?” She asks as he drives away.

“Texas.” He responds dryly.

“Fun. I wouldn’t have guessed.” She finds a cigarette pack in his car console, takes one and brings it to her lips and lights it up. He glares at her in the rear-view mirror, but she smiles like a wolf she takes a long drag on her cigarette. She would need to take a lot of fucking nicotine to endure the grumpy man. “I worked in Miami. But I’m from Canada.”

“I don’t care. I only care about the fact that you can do your job.”

“Lovely.” She rolls her eyes and keeps smoking in silence.

When they finally get to work, he shows her the empty desk in front of his. She would get tired of his presence pretty fast if he didn’t miraculously become nice. He puts a pile of files on her desk.

“That’s what we have so far. Read all of it and then get back to me.”

She puts her thick rimmed glasses on her nose to read. “This will take me all day.” She complains.

“You have to start somewhere, new recruit.” Says another man she didn’t know. He’s middle-aged and large. “I’m Chris, welcome.” She offers him a smile and tells him her name.

“What he said.” Javier responds. And then, just like that, he’s gone.

She flies through the files in just a few hours. She knew most of the information already, except the most recent breakthroughs that were still under wraps. And that last report. With everything that went wrong. Faceless people who died under an attack by Escobar’s men.

Maybe that’s why Javier was such a dick. Maybe that’s why he underestimated his new partner so much.

Javier comes back to his desk for a smoke break, eyebrows shot up as he sees that chiquita is done reading and she’s laying back in her chair, legs up on the desk.

“You’re a fast reader.”

“One of my many qualities.” She responds with a grin.

She watches as he lights up his cigarette and gets a glimpse of his teeth. She wondered what he looked like when he smiled. If he ever did.

“Let’s see if you actually retained any information or if you’re bullshitting.”

Javier tosses his cigarette pack at her, and she notes that she would owe him later. They smoke face to face, vapors of their cigarettes intertwining between them. She holds his gaze, defiant.

He quizzes her from the beginning of the case, and she responds flawlessly, with numbers and dates when needed. He feels himself getting smaller and smaller with every response, like he finally met someone better than him.

And then, he talked about the latest report.

“What went wrong, you think?” His eyes are suddenly distant, far away, as he remembers everything that went wrong. The way he almost lost his job when he came back with the news. He had failed miserably.

“You underestimated the fact that La Quica could call reinforcements with a phone you couldn’t track. And how close the help was from him. You thought you had framed him. But he framed you.”

“Smart girl.” He says, lips curled around his cigarette in what resembled a smirk.

Her thighs closed at the praise. She damned her body for getting aroused at his words. She tried to remember that he was an asshole.

“You need more help from the inside.”

“And how you suggest we do that?”

“You have to find someone who’s willing to sell them for immunity.”

“Or I could send you as bait. Make them believe you’re a whore sent to please them.”

“Fuck you, Javier.”

There it was the reminder that he was an asshole.

“It’s Agent Peña for you, chiquita.”

“I’ll call you trou de cul if it pleases me. Let me see if we got more intel on the phone if you’re done bothering me.” She gets up, the cigarette she stole from him still dangling from her lips.

When she’s gone, Chris shoots an amused look to Javier.

“She’s something else, isn’t she?”

“She is.” He agrees.

“What does… trou de cul means?”

“No idea, man. But I think it’s French.”

After the last incident, it’s like everything had went quiet and Escobar was even more careful. So, she didn’t find much as she sat on the phone, listening carefully to the fast-paced Spanish. A veiny hand grabs the phone from her grasp and sets it down. She looks up at Javier.

“Hope you brought comfortable clothes. We have physical training today.”

“I don’t. How nice of you to tell me in advance.”

He shrugs. Cocky bastard. A cocky bastard who had already changed in shorts and a tight kaki t-shirt.

“Guess this will have to do.” She mutters as she gets up and rolls up her sleeves to free her arms.

She follows Javier to the gym, where a few people are already in duos practicing close combat. There was also another room connected and separated by a window, where they could see people training to shoot.

“Who am I fighting?”

“Me.” Responds Javier. “And I won’t go easy on you.”

“I was hoping you’d say that. How do we determine the winner?” She asks as she takes off her shoes while Javier positions himself on the carpet, taking a solid stance.

“When one of us successfully disarms the other.” 

She nods and observes where his gun is ridiculously poking out of his pants. Some people had stopped fighting and were starting to stare in their direction. A lot of the men thought that the fight would be unfair, and the girl would lose.

She noted that she also had a small knife hidden in her bra. She always had one. It would be useful against Javier.

The man strikes first, and she falls to the ground in a loud thud. She tries to ignore how heavy his body feels on her. She also ignores the public’s reaction.

She lets him think he’s winning, until the moment he’s reaching for her belt. Her hands grab his wrists in a solid grasp, her legs roll him over and he’s stuck under her as she puts all her weight on him. She lets go of his wrists and holds her arm against his throat, making it hard for him to breathe. He looks up at her, anger filling his gaze or… something else.

“You have to stop underestimating me.”

“You’re just a girl.”

A few boys let out a “woooo”.

Javier pushes her away and she falls on her back. He uses his legs to immobilize hers, trapping them in an impossible position. His chest presses against her back, trapping her on the ground. She fights with all she’s got, and when he reaches for her belt again, she pulls out the knife from her bra, still in its case, and she aims for Javier’s arm, grazes it.

The surprise destabilizes him, and she feels him weaken just long enough for her to take over again. He falls on his back and she sit her ass on his stomach. She takes off the case from her knife, aims for his balls but she plants it in the carpet between his legs instead. She turns just enough to see his stunned face as she takes his gun from him and gets up. Everyone starts clapping.

She holds her hand out to him and he takes it to get up. She swears she can see redness creeping up his neck, a deep feeling of shame settling in. She grabs the collar of his shirt and brings him close to whisper:

“Always protect your balls and expect your opponent to have more weapons on them.”

[alwaysbethewest]

Narcos fic: Old Acquaintance

Happy New Year! This is my contribution to the @pickled-pena challenge. It was such a fun idea I couldn't resist trying to whip something up for it. I'm taking a Tumblr break for January so I'm actually scheduling this to post and I'm looking forward to seeing other people's fics when I get back 🥰 (or on AO3 before that!)

Because I'm apparently only capable of writing the exact same dynamic over and over, this is sort of a spiritual sequel to Where the Love Light Gleams, only set at New Year's instead of Christmas. 🤷‍♀️

Title: Old Acquaintance Pairing: Steve/Connie + Javier Rating: Teen Word count: 550 Content/warnings: Post-series, pre-OT3, alcohol, sappiness, Javi getting loved on. Unbetaed.

Steve isn’t a belligerent drunk, but he is an argumentative one.

“You stand there and accuse me,” he protests, “but where were you at the time?”

It’s New Year’s Eve and they’re not as young as they once were. Instead of finding a pretty girl at a dance club or a house party, Javi is spending the evening sprawled comfortably on the Murphys’ living room sofa, nursing vodka martinis and half-watching Dick Clark on the TV out of the corner of his eye. The volume is nearly muted, allowing their conversation to flow with the drinks, and they’ve now reached the stage of the evening where innocent observations are being taken as personal affronts.

“I have a witness,” Javi tells him.

Steve’s mouth gapes. He looks at Javi, then turns to where Connie is sitting, suspiciously silent.

She breaks.

“I’m sorry, honey. You know how Javier is. He smooth-talked me.”

Javi shoots her a wink and she stifles a laugh.

“That’s dirty,” Steve says, rounding on him again. “Getting a wife to testify against her husband. I would’ve thought better of you.”

“Really?” Javi asks. That finally makes Steve laugh.

“My mistake,” he says. “Hey, I’ll forgive you if you get me another drink.”

They’ve been through enough shit that Javi’s not too worried about his forgiveness by now, but he sees that Connie’s glass is empty, too, and he’s feeling charitable so he hauls himself off the couch and steps into the kitchen.

The vodka’s in the freezer but he takes it upon himself to switch Steve to beer. He digs through the fridge for a bottle of Corona and cracks it open.

When he settles back in the living room he sits on the floor at Connie’s feet.

“You guys have a lot of pickles,” he mentions. If Steve were sober, he thinks, he’d call him out sarcastically for making such a scintillating remark, but instead he just purses his lips and agrees with a solemn nod.

Connie’s hand touches the crown of his head, and then her fingers are sliding through his hair, nails scritching gently, distractingly, at his scalp. Javi’s eyes fall shut in contentment.

“I’m making cubanos tomorrow,” she tells them.

Both men groan in pleasure at the prospect.

“I might never leave if you keep feeding me like this,” Javi warns her. She tugs on a lock of his hair.

“That’s the goal, baby.”

“Me and Connie talked about it,” Steve says. “It’s our new year’s resolution, we’re gonna convince you to move out here.”

Javi laughs but it makes his chest go all warm inside, being wanted like that. Texas is home but it’s a little lonely, too. The familiar big skies and the landscape of his dad’s ranch only go so far in competing with this cozy living room, with its ugly carpeting and overstuffed couches and boxy TV and Connie’s hand in his hair.

Steve turns up the volume as the countdown for the ball drop begins. When the new year lands, he hears Steve’s happy new year muffled against Connie’s mouth, and then her hand slides down to cup his cheek and tilt his head back, and then they’re both attacking his face in a volley of kisses until the sound of their laughter drowns out Auld Lang Syne on the TV.

(teeny tiny tag list: @pedrostories, @littlemisspascal, @knittingqueen13, @by-ilmater, @loversandantiheroes, @pajamasecrets, @fleetwoodmactshirt, @mourningbirds1)

[biguns60plus]

This is the list I have accumulated from Pastor Bob Joyce as Elvis. He has told us quite a few who are alive. There are supposed to be over 900 so this list is still short.

Alive & faked death

Elvis

Bruce & Brandon Lee

MichaelJackson

Princess Diana

JFKennedy Jr

his wife Caroline

her sister Lauren

Nicole Brown Simpson is Megan Kelly

Tupac

Prince

Glen Campbell

John Denver

Carpenters

Bee Gees

Selena

Freddie Mercury

Marilyn Monroe

Isaac Kappy

Patrick Kennedy

Arabella Kennedy

Robin Williams

John Lennon

Yoko Ono

Joan Rivers

Kurt Cobain

Pres. J.F.Kennedy Sr

Kobe Bryant & daughter

Corey Haim

Jimmy Hendrix

Paul Walker

Bob Marley

Biggey

Chris Farley

Whitney Houston & daughter

Roddy Pipers

Dick Clark

Peter Jennings

Rush Limbaugh -Jim Morrison

Richard Beland

Luther Vandross

Dale Earnhardt

Johnny Cash

Shirley Temple

Janis Joplin

Big Bopper

Buddy Holly

Hank Williams

James Dean

Dennis Wilson

Natalie Wood

Ron McKerman

John Bonham

Heath Ledger

Brittany Murphy

Patrick Swayze

Debbie Reynolds

Annette Funicello

Joe Cocker

Lynn Anderson

Dudley Moore

Ashley Babbitt

Anna Nicole Smith

Elvis brother Jesse

Amy Weinhouse

Jon Benet Ramsey

Heather Rourke

George Michael

Elizabeth Montgomery

7 NASA astronauts

Seth Rich

Marty Fieldman

John Ritter

Sonny Bono

Jeffery Epstein

Mindy McCready

Erin Moran

River Phoenix

Penny Marshall

Donna Summers

Dana Pluto

Andre the Giant

Kenny Rogers

Michael Landon

Theresa Saldana

Bill Paxton

David Canary

Mary Tyler Moore,

Dudley Moore,

Princess Grace Kelly,

Steve McQueen,

John Candy,

Kate Spade,

Mama Cass Elliot,

Michael hutchence,

paula Yates,

Jackie O

George Carlin

Anthony Bourdain

Phillip Seymour Hoffman

Andrew Breitbart

Chris Liddell

Stevie Ray Vaughn

Tom Petty

Lucille Ball

Martin Luther King Jr

Brian Wilson

Chef Anthony B

Davey Jones

Chester Bennington

Chris Cornell

Erin Moran

Florence Henderson

Layne Stanley

Ricky Hendrix

Robert Trump (DJT) brother Patty Duke

Judge Scalia

Paul Newman

Donna Summer

Keith Moon

Mac Miller

Edyie Gorme

Tony Snow-GWBush press sec Brad Nowell

Caleb Logan

Conway Twitty

Keith Wheatley

Teena Marie

Rick James

Frank Zappa

Mickey Mantle

June Cash

Seal Team 6

Peter ? Tv commentator

Copied and Shared!

[mincerman]

Is this a list of the same type of people?

Gerald Durrell

Derrick (Fredo Santana) Coleman - rapper - purple drank

Anthony Bourdain (TV Chef) - Heroin, Methadone, Cocaine, Alcohol.

George Herbert Scott (Airship Pilot), d.1930.

Grayson Murray, American golfer

Mark Lanegan, 57

Taylor Hawkins, 50

Steve Harwell, Smash Mouth Lead Singer, liver failure.

Lisa Marie Presley, 54

Raye (Rachel Keen), British Singer

Andrea Dunbar (Playwright, age 29 - brain hem orange).

Robert Louis Stevenson - hence Jeykel and hyde (aged 44, drugs inc alcohol)

Phil Lynott

Paul Walsh, Footballer.

Andy Warhol - “Although not as big a drug-taker as many of his entourage in mid-century New York, Warhol was addicted to Obetrol – marketed today as Adderall – an amphetamine diet pill that has a similar effect to speed.” - https://www.theguardian.com/science/2023/mar/24/drugs-and-alcohol-do-not-make-you-more-creative-research-finds?CMP=Share_iOSApp_Other

Jefferson King (Shadow)

Taylor Hawkins (died at 50) Foo Fighters, Drummer.

Jordon Peterson

Ivan Toney (Brentford and England footballer and gambler)

Wasim Akram (Cocaine)

Robson Green

Simon Pegg

Don Whillans, mountaineer

Stanislav Petrov (the man who saved the world)

Samuel Taylor-Coleridge (Laudanum)

Goethe

W.H.Auden, Benzedrine

Jared O’Mara (former MP)

Anne Robinson

Hayden Panettiere, actress https://www.thesun.co.uk/tvandshowbiz/22079654/heroes-hayden-panettiere-addiction-alcohol-opiods-nashville/amp/

Jennifer Elliott (daughter of Denholm Elliot)

James Mangan - 19th C. Irish Poet, influenced -

Shane MacGowan.

Sir William Carr (Pissing Billy)

James Gandolfini

Lanre Fehintola

Howard Hughes, OCD, Codeine

Kirkland Laing (Boxer)

Ian Royce, Comedian.

Bobby Liebling (lead singer, Pentagram)

Rory Hamilton Brown

Matthew Mellon (banking heir)

Nora Butlin

David Berman (silver Jews)

Ted Ngoy (the donut king - gambling)

Ernst Udet - German WW1 Ace, responsible for Nazi aircraft manufacture until suicide,1941.

Blair “Paddy” Mayne (famed early S.A.S. Soldier)

David Stirling (famed early S.A.S. Soldier)

Danny Cipriani

William Golding

Luke Sutton, sports agent

Bryony Gordon

Gaddafi

Paddy “Mad” Merrigan (Jockey)

Michael K. Williams (actor)

Robert Webb (British Comedian)

Mark McManus

Brian O’Nolan

Rodney Dangerfield

Tara Palmer-Tompkinson

Marco Pantani

Robin Smith (cricketer)

Dr. John (The Scatman)

Robert Havlin (jockey)

Kenneth Williams

Victor Willis (son of a baptist preacher - Village People.

Stu Ungar

Charlie Parker

Miles Davis

Harold Shipman

Danny Trejo (ends up dead on top of Tortoise in Breaking Bad).

Sandy Ratcliff (Sue Osman, East Enders)

James Hunt

Michael David Weiss (film injustice re safety needles)

Charlie Chaplin Snr. (Cirrhosis, 38)

Oisin Murphy (jockey)

Peter Shilton (gambling)

Marvin Gaye

Robert Young, actor, brother of Roger Moore

Dick Van Dyke

Yuri Gagarin

Christopher Farley (U.S. actor)

Ronald Lacey - played Dylan Thomas (1978) - Harry Ridler in Minder on the the Orient Express

Jordan Peterson

Tanya Sarne (Fashion)

Elizabeth Wurtzel (Prozac Nation)

Bradley Cooper

Tom Maynard (Cricketer)

Bobby Beasley (Jockey)

Toulouse-Lautrec

Baudelaire

Montgomery Clift.

Jay Kay

Mike McCready (guitarist - pearl jam)

Elton John

Heinrich Böll, German Writer, Pervatin, during WW

Andy Fordham (The Viking)

Alice Cooper

Phil Spector

Alan Watts

Mark Lanegan

Rupert Young - Will Young’s brother

Matthew Perry (Friends sitcom)

Susannah Constantine (TV host)

Hugh O’Connor, Actor, -1962-1995. Shot himself in the head on the day of his 3rd Wedding Anniversary.

Deacon Brodie - alcoholic sinner fire-runner and example used by Robert Louis Stevenson in J & H - a hundred years later - and a life that Stevenson tried to pursue himself

Desi Arnaz, American actor

Felicite Tomlinson

Demi Lovato

William Hurt (American actor)

Venedikt Vasilyevich Yerofeyev - Author of Moscow Stations, 1969

Olivia Channon

Willie Carson Jnr

‘Bloody’ Mary Coughlan.

Roy Orbison (yo-yo dieting)

Christopher Hitchens - thinkoholic, alcoholic, smoker

Emma, Lady Hamilton

Jan-Michael Vincent (Airwolf)

Maradona

Keith Gillespie,Footballer, Gambling.

Eddie Van Halen

Richard Kiel (Jaws)

John Bonham

Matthew Perry, American actor.

Stuart Cable - Drummer Stereophonics - choked on vomit.

Cameron Douglas

Chris Langham - cocaine / alcohol. (Went to prison for 6 months for download child pornographic images. Played Orwell in 2003 BBC film.). Career destroyed after that.

Johnny Vegas

Arthur Daley.

Mike Tyson

George Harrison

Alexei Rykov aka ‘Rykvodka’ Rightist Politburo member, Premier and co- ruler with Stalin and Bukharin ‒. Defendant in last show trial

Hans Fallada (Rudolf Ditzen) - German Author

Henry Pierrepoint - executioner father of Albert the executioner.

Bob Hindley (alcoholic father of Myra Hindley)

Simon Day (fast show)

Frederick Nietzsche (Opiu re m / chloral hydrate)

Tennessee Williams

Henry Willson - Hollywood agent (Cirrhosis)

Steve Caulker - footballer aged 25 (alcohol and gambling)

Tim Bergling (DJ Avicii) - aged 28

Verne Troyer (49)

Ashley Mattingly (playmate)

Jean Michel Basquiat - artist, 27, Heroin

Keith Levene, Founder member of The Clash, and Public Image Ltd

Dolores Riordan (46) lead singer of cranberries - died drowned in her bath 2018 Park Lane Hilton. Also anorexic and bi-polar.

Demi Lovato (ex Disney Channel actress)

Charles Baudelaire - laudanum and alcohol

Chris Leben (UFC fighter)

Mike Bell a.k.a. Mad Dog (WWE - wrestler)

Freddie Starr

Irvine Welsh

Dolores O’Riordan (alcohol / anorexia)

Dennis Price.

Shia LaBeouf (actor)

Rhys Thomas (Rugby)

Russell Pearce (Boxing)

David Plunkett Greene (Heroin)

Ron ‘Pigpen’ McKernon (grateful Dead,27)

Annabelle Neilson - Heroin / aristoc

Ray Wilkins

Jeff Hatch (NFL player)

Ryan Cresswell (footballer)

Jon Stewart (guitarist, sleeper)

Alexander || of Russia.

Otto Gross (influenced Jung) - addict - 1877 to 1920. 42.

Oskar Schindler

Phil Lynott

Shaun Ryder

George Brown MP

Paul Ryder (Bassist)

Gary Oldman

Peter Edward "Ginger" Baker, English Drummer.

Mac Miller / U.S. rapper (26)

Jeff Hanneman - Slayer - cirrhosis, 49

Gary Busey (American actor)

Philip Larkin (half a bottle of sherry at sunrise).

Hunter S. Thompson - pro addict - suicide Feb 2005

Gregg Allman, American Singer / Songwriter

Coolio (Artis Leon Ivey)

Martin Gore (Depeche Mode)

Dave Gahan (Depeche Mode)

William Faulkner. (American Writer)

Lord Haw Haw (William Joyce)

Eugene O’Neill. (American Writer)

Anthony Burgess

Donald Maclean

Kim Philby

Ellen Philby - wife of spy Kim Philby (47)

Anthony Blunt

Ringo Starr

Jerry Lee Lewis

Ricky Hatton

John Ford (Film Director)

Jack London (Author of John Barleycorn novel) morphine overdose and alcoholism

Tom Chaplin, Lead Singer, Keane.

Nico - H - velvet underground

Art Pepper

Liza Minnelli

Richard Bacon

Jay Kay (Jamiroquai)

Tobey Maguire

Christian Slater

Chris Cornell (lead singer of Soundgarden)

Max Jacob (French Post)

Malcolm McDowell

Fred Trump Jnr. (Eldest brother 1932-81) - alcoholism aged 42.

Owen Wilson

Gary Oldman

Keith Flint (Prodigy)

Demi Moore - actors

Danniella Westbrook

Roger Ebert (Film critic)

John Cassavetes (great director) - hobnailed liver, 59. Q.v. Under the influence (1974) - starring his co-alcoholic and co-dependent wife, Gena Rowlands (who was nominated for an Oscar for her portrayal of progressive madness).

Bill Evans - Heroin - jazz

Suroosh Alvi - founder of Vice media - ex Heroin

Gary Fraser - Director of T2

Trainspotting - ex Heroin

Keith Floyd.

Ant mcpartlin

Tom Hardy (aa)

Steve Coogan

Kenny Sansom

Dante Gabriel Rossetti - painter -(1828-1882) became addicted to chloral, with whisky chasers

Philip Roth - American Novelist (Halcion sleeping pill)

Lee Marvin

Bryony Gordon - terrible telegraph columnist

‘Mad Jack’ Byron

Chet Baker - Jazz Trumpeter

Berlioz

Ray Charles - Heroin.

Sir Edwin Landseer (Laudinum)

John Hurt (died 28 Jan 16 pancreatic cancer ages 75)

Anthony Eden (Benzedrine) Drinamyl also known as ‘purple hearts’ to take him up and up to four sleeping pills a night to take him down. Eventually they stopped working - he couldn’t sleep and the doctors said the pharmaceutical solution had run its course - and he had to be evacuated to Jamaica for a few weeks - presumably to withdraw, just after Suez and a Sterling crisis. https://academic.oup.com/qjmed/article/98/6/387/1548168 - from Dr David Owen - concluding with the line ‘a fit and well Anthony Eden would not have made all those mistakes’.

Christopher Walken

Alistair Maclean - later on.

Al Pacino

Andrew Symonds (Australian Cricketer)

Margaux Hemingway (grand-daughter / supermodel)

Amy Winehouse (27)

Brian Jones (27) Rolling Stones

Jimi Hendrix (27)

Janice Joplin (27)

Jim Morrison (27)

Rudy Lewis (27) The drifters

Alan Wilson (27)

Dickie Pride (27)

Ron “Pigpen” Mckernon (27)

Kurt Cobain (27)

Dash Snow (27) - artist

Gary Thain (27) Bassist, Uriah Heep

Pamela Courson (27) Morrison’s wife, Heroin overdose, 3 yrs later in ‘74.

See also - https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/27_Club

Fred Archer (29) gambling - shot himself.

Dean Martin

Eve Babitz

Pete Townsend

Courtney Love

Kevin Lloyd (Actor, The Bill)

Amedeo Modigliani

Diego Maradona

Brett Favre

Babe Ruth

Paul Merson (drink and gambling)

Bill Werbenuik (Snooker)

Kirk Stevens (cocaine - Snooker)

Mark E. Smith - d.2018. Lead singer of the Fall. 60.

Danielle Westbrook

Mary J. Bilge

Alec Baldwin (actor)

Vince Taylor from Isleworth - inspired Ziggy Stardust.

Douglas Kenney - founder of National Lampoon, 33, probable Suicide. Hawaii.

Alan McGee - Founder of creation records and property developer

Patrick Swayze

John Skipper, (former) president ESPN

David Cassidy

Steven Tyler (alive)

Hubert Selby Jr - author of last exit to Brooklyn - died sober even refused morphine.

Etta James

Slash

Bradley Cooper

Calvin Harris (Scot dj)

Eva Mendes

Colin Farell

Al Pacino

Craig Charles

Davina McCall

Anthony Hopkins

Rob Lowe

Phil Michelson (gambling)

Melanie Griffith

Jamie-Lee Curtis

Moby

W. C. Fields

Jean-Claude Junker

Christine Dolce (queen of MySpace) - cirrhosis

Franklin pierce - us president - cirrhosis

Chernenko - soviet leader 84 - cirrhosis

Jimi Hendrix - cirrhosis?

Billie holiday - cirrhosis

Jack Karouac - cirrhosis

Rob Lowe - alcoholic - 27 yrs sober

Sean Hughes (Irish comic) - cirrhosis

List of people with cirrhosis https://m.ranker.com/list/famous-people-with-cirrhosis/celebrity-lists

Etta James

Francis Bacon

Lucian Fraud (gambling)

Bobby Davro

David Warner - AUS cricketer

Baudelaire

Jesse Ryder - NZ cricketer

Herschelle Gibbs - SA cricketer

Alan Hudson (footballer)

Paul McGrath (footballer)

Kenny Samson (Footballer)

Garrincha (Brazilian Footballer)

Hank Williams aged 29

Marvin Gaye - crack before he was shot by father

Mickey Mantle (baseball player, Cirrhosis)

Joseph McCarthy (anti-communist)

Gilbert Harding - "The Rudest Man in Britain" 1907-1960.

John Paul Getty III

Caroline Aherne

Chris Difford - squeeze / clouds

Gary Shail - spider in quadraphenia

8 Mile actress

NIna Simone

Lord Lucan

Lady Lucan

Goering

Christy Brown

Edward St Aubyn

Rick Stein

Ronnie O'Sullivan (Snooker Player)

Chris Cornell

Denis Johnson (Author of Jesus' Son, 1992)

Dermot Reeve

Joey Barton

Will Self

Charles Kennedy MP (intracerebral haemorrhage)

Eric Joyce MP

Debbie Harry (Blondie)

Sir Anthony Eden - Benzedrine - buried at st Mary's church, alvediston. Un-respected.

Luvo Manyonga SA long jumper Olympic silver medallist 2016 - crystal meth

Ian McShane - Lovejoy, Deadwood - cocaine / alcoholic - 28 yrs since first AA meet.

Colin Milburn (cricketer)

Tom Petty (Heroin)

James brown

General Gordon of Khartoum - alcoholic - (according to Lytton Strachey)

Errol Flynn (absolutely everything) - in secret lives at the end "Errol Flynn made the fatal flaw of confusing his art with his life - in film they applaud Robin Hoods and rascals - in real life they tire of them soon... They stand by to let the person destroy himself". Heart problems and Cirrhosis.

Tyrone Power - 1 yr after The Sun Also Rises aged 44

Charlie Wilson US politician cv.film

Brian Clough

Sean Ryder

Greg Merson 2014 WSOP Main Event winner

Tubby Hayes - British Jazz - Heroin

Phil Seaman - Drummer - Heroin

Rick Parfitt (Status Quo)

Ian Kilminster (Lemmy)

Jack wild (oliver in artful dodger) aged 53 mouth cancer

Joe meek - pills - Telstar

Rasputin (alcohol and sex)

Boris Yeltsin

Paris Jackson (17) Michael's daughter

Jimmy pegg - walker in dads army - 39

Alexei Stakhanov (coal miner)

Seymour Hoffman

Lo ' David Coyle - Mr Bates in Downton Abbey

David Cassidy - 70s singer / heartthrob

Simon Danczuk MP

John Belushi

Whitney Houston

Bobbi Kristina Brown

William S Burroughs - writer, Heroin

William S Burroughs Jr. - Aged 34 - had liver transplant - cirrhosis

Amy winehouse

Brian Epstein - in a totally white bathroom - the only art was a giant picture of El Cordobes. And he wanted to give up managing The Beatles to manage bullfighters in Spain. L. Oo

Dante Gabriel Rosetti (Laudanum), Chloral, Alcohol)

Jimmy greaves

Mary Todd go. F FB

ST Coleridge (both Laudanum)

Sigmund Freud - a lot to answer for - cocaine

Irvine Walsh

Malcolm Lowry 1957

F. Scott Fitzgerald

Michael Phelps - most decorated Olympian

Tony Curtis

Robbie Williams

Mel Gibson

Sir James Chadwick (sleeping pills) sleeping on fear his work on a bomb would lead to mass destruction

Charles James Fox - cirrhosis whilst in office as Foreign Secretary - also Ascites (7 pints of fluid drained at death also 35 gallstones found) - lived in Chertsey and Foxhills, prodigious gambler.

Barry humphries

Daniel Radcliffe

Jack Dee

Jack karouac

Ian Fleming?

William Holden (actor, Bridge on the River Kwai)

Brad Pitt

Len fairclough

Malcolm Lowry (under the volcano)

John le Meisurer

James Beck (Alcoholic) Dads Army

Arthur Lowe - Dad's Army

Clive of India

Frank skinner

Rodney king

RD Laing (Dr)

Richard Hughes (jockey)

Johnny Murtagh (Jockey)

Jeremy Wolfenden

Jockey Wilson

Diego Maradona

John McAfee - dry drunk

Antony Hopkins

Michael Barrymore

Tara fitzgerald

Gazza

Tiger Woods https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/tiger-woods-avoids-jail-on-driving-charge-dp9f6gv7n

Lou reed

Marquis of Blandford

F Scott Fitzgerald

Beethoven

Edgar Allan Poe

Diana Ross

Robin Williams

Elton John

Eminem

Lilly Allen

J.L. Austin, Academic, Lung Cancer, 48.

Johnny Cash

Samuel l Jackson

Frank Sinatra

Buzz aldrin

Ben affleck - gambling / alcohol

Ulysses Grant 18th president

Benjamin franklin

George bush jar

Alexander the Great

David Yelland Former editor of Sun.

David Bowie / Ziggy Stardust (Coke)

Eric Clapton

Bill Wilson

W.C. Fields (died of gastric haemorrhage)

Blondie - whose music is used to advertise baileys

Stephen King

Hermann Goering (Morphine)

Hermoine Norris (yellow card)

Brad davis

Tom Maynard

Alec Baldwin

Morgan Freeman

Charlie watts both recovers

William f Buckley

Charles Kennedy

Jamie lee Curtis (daughter of tony Curtis)

Lana del Rey

Barnaby conrad (bulls)

Yazz Yasmin Evans

Peaches Geldolf

Caroline aherne

King Richard 3rd died 1485 battle of bosworth

James beck (dads army)

Fat boy slim

Calvin Harris

50 cent

Prince (Perocet)

Francis Bacon

Anthony kliedis

Shania twain

Peter Townsend

Leona Lewis

Jessie j

Alice cooper

Moby

Ringo Starr

Asquith?

Constantine Chernenko (Soviet president - cirrhosis)

Chris difford (lead sing squeeze)

George IV - gambling mainly.

Henry VIII - sypillus (food issues - drink - sex)

Ozzy osbourne

Jack osbourne

Kelly osbourne

Steve coogan

Paul Gascoigne

Midge Ure

John Daly

Steven Tyler

Nicole Ritchie

Drew Barrymore

Naomi Campbell

Waylon Jennings

Nick Nolte

Martin Sheen

Keith Moon

Kurt Cobain

Rt Hon George Brown MP, Lord George Brown (1914-1985) Labour Belper, 1945-70, excused by his staff of being ‘tired and emotional

Paul Nicholls (ex Eastenders)

Alan Ladd

Jack Lemmon

David Hasselhoff

Errol Flynn - ended up supporting The (Fid)Del - worst film ever - Cuban rebel girls and the Cuban story doc - 1959 - year he died - revolution for alcohol, cocaine, and heroin - these two pieces of art marked the ego, deciept and denial.

Truman Copote

Billy Joel

Jimmy White (Snooker, Crack)

Stephen King

Ernest Hemingway

Diana Ross

Orson Welles (and father)

Ben Affleck (drink / gambling)

Abi Evelyn t (yellow card)

Trinny Woodall

Don Simpson - producer of top gun bev hills cop

Peter Doherty

Gary Richrath (REO Speedwagon guitarist)

Robert Newton - born Shaftesbury 1905 - died Beverly Hills 1956 - heart attack - Shaftesbury most famous alcoholic. Aged 50.

12th Duke of Marlborough - Ex Marquis of Blandford

Henry VIII

Thomas de Quincey - confessions of an English opium eater. (Actually laudanum).

Pat Eddery

Richard Hughes

Dr William Stewart Halsted - inspiration for Clive Owen's Dr John Thackery (The Knick).

Nero?

Frank Skinner

Alexander the Great?

Eric Joyce (former MP)

Robert Mitchum

Osgood )brother of Peter

Lionel Bart

Ira Hayes (flag man)

John Bonham (Windsor)

Joseph "Joe" McCarthy - commies

Dylan Thomas

James Joyce

James Thurber

Gary Moore (singer, 80s)

Jim Morrison (27)

Franklin Pierce (US President, 1853-1857. Liver cirrhosis 1869 aged 64.

Macaulay Culkin

Michael Jackson

Boy George

Carrie Fisher

Beth Morris (voice contestant) - cocaine

Hitler (Barbiturates)

Mussolini, Stalin, Eichmann.

Mao Zedong (barbiturates)

Jeffrey Dahmer (Alcohol)

Johnny Depp (booze)

Rodney Dangerfield

Mickey Mantle (baseball, booze)

Billie Holiday

Melanie Griffith

Ewan McGregor

Tony Hancock

Guy Burgess (spy)

Diana Ross

Shane MacGowen

Craig Charles.

Paul Verlaine (French 19th C Poet)

Toulouse-Lautrec

Melanie Griffith (Percocet)

Elvis (Percocet)

Cindy McCain (wife of John MCCain, Percocet)

Gerald Levert (Percocet)

Bill Werbeniuk

Ant McPartlin

Prince (Fentanyl overdose)

Lil Peep (Fentanyl overdose)

Alex Higgins

Bon Scott (AC/DC)

Kirk Stevens (Cocaine)

La Galue (Louise Weber) - queen of Momartre - can can dancer.

Jeff Hanneman (singer, Slayer)

Yves Saint-Laurent

Florence Ballard (The Supremes)

Colin Milburn (Cricketer)

John Barrymore (Early Hollywood Actor)

Kemal Ataturk (Cirrhosis)

Gail Russell (Early Hollywood icon)

Helen Morgan (American singer and actress)

Ulysses Grant

George Best

Calum Best

Verne Troyer

Keith Whitley (American Country music singer)

William Falkner (American author)

Caspar Fleming (Novelist’s son)

Anna Nicole-Smith

Yootha Joyce (Mildred)

Jerry Bailey - us jockey)

Joe Namath

Walter Swinburn (both dead) alcohol and also eating disorder

Bobby Fischer (Chess)

Willie Thorne ( gambling)

Kirk Stevens

[writefightandflightclub]

Coffee & Cigarettes AKA Thank God for Steve (Javier Peña x fem!reader)

Summary: you may be new to the team, but you’re just what Javi and Steve need… even if they don’t know it yet.

Genre: pre-relationship, initial chemistry / attraction / flirting / verbal banter.

Author’s note: this is a quick one, set in the all out of smokes ‘verse (prequel blurb, can be read standalone), and is a light-hearted look at how Javi and reader (okay, and Steve - he’s there too to act as the butt of many jokes, I’m sorry 😂) all settle into the new dynamic of adding reader to the team. It’s more of a fun one, but hopefully you can see the bones of their dynamic and how it might develop into what we see later. P.s. Steve called it first.

What struck me most is how instant and easy their chemistry is, and the fact we know from future parts that they have to work so hard to bury it later! Which makes me sad for them 😢

Rating: Mature? No smut. But my blog is 18+

Warnings: swearing, dick jokes and innuendos, piss-taking between buddies, alcohol mentions, smoking ofc, flirting, burgeoning attraction, canon typical mentions of sex work; tenses are a mess?

GIF: @nickblaine

You’ve only just met Javi, but you can tell he’s tired.

Tired in an existential way.

You’re new around here, sure, but some things are already obvious.

It’s obvious that Javi doesn’t know quite what to make of you yet, for example.

He and Murphy are thick as thieves, and you want in. From what you can tell, their operation has stalled, and you aren’t here to mess around, or to hover on the outskirts of the action.

That’s why you had to think of something. An in.

Some way to get to know your new colleagues, as well as a chance to show what you were made of. You weren’t exactly in Colombia to make friends, but you did need to grease the wheels if they were gonna start sharing intel with you - looping you in on things.

You don’t know everything about how to curry favour with them, sure, but some things are obvious already. You knew you’d need coffee and cigarettes, for example.

Your plan, therefore, revolved around a night at Steve and Connie’s place. You, Steve, and Javi huddled around their big table - Connie away in the States for some family thing (or, from the fact Steve hadn’t shaved or slept for 3 days after she left, you deduce that maybe, they are having a little marital trouble).

You had to figure that maybe a change of scene from the bullpen would provide a fresh perspective. There had to be something in these files which would provide a new lead. Something you were missing. You’d stand on your head and look at it that way if you thought it might help, because you came here to do something and, so far? So far you had a big fat nothing.

You know you can be useful. More useful than manning the tip line. You just need a chance to prove it.

In the end, Javi and Steve were hardly enthused about your plan, but for whatever reason, they had agreed to go along with it.

You’re already there setting out papers when Javi arrives, nursing a surly expression. You’re not sure whether it’s because of his still healing bust lip or the fact he has to be here. Maybe the day (year, decade) he’s had. But, regardless, he greets you both “hello” with a nod of his head and surveys the pitiful offering of snacks Steve has spread about the table with disdain. When you’re hunting down a cartel, being a good host slips down the list of priorities. No-one would blame him. (Ok, maybe Javi might.)

“Javier,” Steve greets. “Can I get you a dri-“

Javi answers by holding up his own thermos and pushing the vessel emphatically towards Steve’s chest.

“You brought your own fucking coffee to my apartment?” Steve drawls indignantly. “That’s just plain rude.”

Javi’s lips do that little pouty thing you’ve noticed. That thing you probably shouldn’t have noticed, because you’re not here to make friends, and certainly not bedfellows. You quash a smile though. You’re still feeling these two out but Javi’s a funny fucker alright. Plus, Steve’s little offended face is almost precious.

“I’m not drinking your American shit,” Javi revs in his deep, robust voice - deadly serious.

Okay. You can’t help but to openly guffaw at the pair as they posture against each other, even as Murph’s moustache twitches in annoyance.

The noise of your laughter draws Javi’s attention to you, and as Steve mumbles under his breath and heads to the kitchen with the thermos in hand, Javi shoves his hands in his jean pockets and dips his head, almost shyly, as he pads towards you, his stride emphasising his long, lean limbs.

“Hey,” you greet, and he slips off his aviators, hanging them off the collar of his shirt and fixing an effortlessly charming smile on you.

You’re still figuring him out, but some things are obvious. You get that he’s pretty, but it’s obvious there’s a whole lot more to him besides.

“Hey yourself.” The shiner on his left eye from a tense sitch earlier in the week is dying down, at least. As it stands, Javi is running out of trees to shake and apparently -this time- he picked the wrong one.

He slips off his jean jacket and tosses it aside, revealing his lilac button-down shirt beneath. Your eyes crease with a slight smile. You idly imagine him picking out his outfit each morning from a carousel of coloured shirts and the thought oddly endears you to the man.

“So,” he begins, coming up behind and slightly right of your chair, looking down at the papers and files littering the surface and bridging a hand on the table, shuffling a few leaves and documents around without any real purpose. “What are we here for?”

At least he didn’t choose to rag you for lifting classified materials out of the embassy without permission. That’s something.

You feel an unexpected prickle of heat at the back of your neck from the way Javi’s stood above you. From the way he smells of cologne and tobacco and limónes, but you sweep that aside. Instead, you glance to the kitchen to check you have Steve’s attention too. “Well,” you explain, trying to keep your voice steady as you address the two people you most need on side to make it here. “Sorry to say it but we’ve got fuck all, boys. You’re working all your angles - hard, right? The streets, the bordellos, the tip line.” You list them off on your fingers. “But something’s got Murph’s contacts spooked - and the C.I.s are either dead, dried-up or shipped-out for protection. Peña’s fucking enough women that if he fucks anymore his dick might drop off, and even then, right now, we have a big fat nothing… and, hey, guess what? Nothing isn’t gonna catch him.”

Javi’s jaw twitches. Bold of you, to come here and criticise and you know it, but you hope that you pitched it right. That you haven’t pushed too far. You await Javi’s reaction most of all, but in the end he huffs out air in… amusement. He lifts his chin. You know exactly what his challenge means. You think you can do better? “What do you propose then?” Javi asks, voice measured and taut and holding back and hips angling towards you, his presence bearing down on you just a little bit more intensely. Thumbs slipping into his belt loops in a perfect power stance. You’re not phased by it, if that was the idea, even as he leans his weight forward, his crotch straining a little against the denim. He can swing his dick around if he likes, literally or not, you don’t care. You’ll swing right back.

“You can save the bruised egos. I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know. That we need a win. A lead. Something fresh to chase. I know you’re hungry for it.” You pause, but you hear no arguments. You still have the floor. “Well, then these files are all we have, and we need to look again. We need to look until we find something.”

The tendons in Javi’s neck ripple with tension. You see various statements fleeting through his eyes before his tongue lands on one. “What’s gonna make this different to every other time we’ve looked, huh?” You think you can solve this after 3 weeks? You think you can do better than us?

“Fresh eyes. That’s all.” That’s you. “I’ve been poring over these damn files every night in the bullpen-“Javi’s eyes flicker with recognition - he’s seen you there, pulling 16 hour days, every day “-but I’m not an idiot. I know don’t have your knowledge. And you fuckers? You’re tired where I’m new - call it naive, whatever- but I’m not quite so jaded yet.” You pause again. Again, you hear no arguments. “Right. So. Don’t push me out because I’m new here,” you request, your monologue growing increasingly impassioned as you gain traction. You tick up an eyebrow, directing your next words toward Javi, though you’re not wholly sure why. “Use me.”

Javi clears his throat and ceremoniously folds his arms around himself at that, reaching one hand up to pinch his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger. Steve leans his back up against the kitchen counter, one sole kicked up on a cupboard door and eyes downcast.

Fuck. Well.

You hardly blame them for such a lacklustre response. You get it. You know they’ve got to be tired. Your throat works around a swallow, worried you are losing them. “Look, I know it’s not much.” You know you’re not much. You know they wanted ten men here - a whole operation, not one extra pair of hands. Probably not a woman either, if you’re honest with yourself.

“It’s not anything,” Steve complains.

You look between them then, almost with a silent plea. You’re losing them before you had them, and you need them on side. “Look. If you have any better ideas I’m all ears. But right now Peña’s dick is looking like the best weapon we’ve got - and I don’t know about you Murph, but I can’t use that.”

Despite himself, Murphy’s eyes flash with amusement at your double entendre and he shakes his head, expelling a laugh which lifts some of the tension in the room, like a blissful release of pressure through a vent.

You’re winning him over. Getting him on side.

You look to Javi in hope, eyes travelling up the long length of him, and you see his expression remains surly.

Okay. Okay so he’s going to take a little more work then. You suppose you did gun for him pretty hard -maybe it was a risk- but you’d had a feeling he wouldn’t respect a kiss-ass. That approach works better for you anyway - you hardly mince your words - but dammit, you hope you were right in opting not to suck up to him.

You need Javi. Need him on side. As if confirming that, Steve looks towards his buddy, awaiting his reaction - his take.

“We’ve gotten several leads that way,” Javi defends, a necessary patch over his bruised ego but his voice softer than it is harsh. Another vent releasing the pressure in the room. And so, satisfied that this is the plan - not much of one but the best you’ve got - Steve pulls up a chair, setting down an array of coffee cups and Javi’s cherished thermos amidst islands of paper.

Javi remains, stood motionless for a moment, hands flattened and slipped into his back pockets, his brown eyes swimming with some barely concealed emotion. Maybe you hurt his feelings - fuck knows - but you’re not here to make friends. Still, you opt to be softer than you are harsh. “Don’t get me wrong. I know you’re giving everything you’ve got-“

“-All four inches of it,” Steve interjects with a snicker.

Your lips tick up in thinly-veiled amusement but largely, you dismiss him. You’re not here to win him over, in truth. Not Steve. You figure Javi’s your ace, and you need him in your deck if you’re gonna get things done. “We need something though, right?” You take a risk and pull out the vacant chair between you and Steve. You select your next words very carefully. “If you have any other ideas - better trees to shake - I’ll wait.” You look pointedly at the shiner around his eye, just for effect.

Javi exhales. Moves his tongue along his teeth inside his cheek. Then he softens a little. Looks you up and down just once with a stifled smirk on his face, like he has a secret you don’t, before exhaling another big breath - the release of yet another pressure valve - and you almost breathe a sigh of relief yourself as he takes the offered seat.

Good. This is good.

It feels like a rather tentatively brokered agreement, for now, but you’re pleased you have your in.

You have their attention.

That much is evident as Steve -apparently still thinking on your prior question- slowly raises his hand for your attention.

What the - does he think you’re his teacher or some shit? You ask him as much, eyebrows raised and chin dipped in wry surprise, which causes Steve’s light cheeks to flush with colour, and for Javi to release yet more of his tension with a throaty, unexpected laugh at Steve’s expense - one which he then tries to backpedal on, just a tad. Steve scowls then -at your tag-teamed mocking of him- and it’s almost adorable when he bites back, eyes narrowing. “Yeah I’ve got an idea. Can I vote for Javi’s dick to fall off?”

The DEA’s finest, everyone.

They descend into bickering.

“Oh, stop your petulance, Stevey,” Javi chides, simply to rile him up.

“That’ll make your dick fall off.”

“Petulance, not pestilence, idiota. Thought you could at least speak English, Stevey.”

“Now now, boys,” you scold, and to your surprise, both of their heads whip towards you when you speak. You try not to feel too much of a sense of pride as it happens, but you realise this is pivotal. You’re not here to make friends, no, but you do need allies. And in that moment, you feel like you’ve got them. Got them on side. You take your new found command in stride. “Play nice, okay?”

“Yes, Mommy,” Javi says in his low rumble, with a delicious quirk of his lips. His voice is dropped low in his throat, and you try not to squirm against your chair as his dark eyes suggest a disobedience entirely counter to his words. You have to remind yourself very emphatically that you’re not here to acquire bedfellows. That you’ll have to watch out for this one.

Good to know.

Good, in general, you think, as you each sit down and flip open a folder. You pass some papers out with some verbal explanation, colour coded lists, questions, files, and you find them attentive. You know this type of work won’t count for much - not until you’ve proven yourself in the field too, but it counts for something, you hope; and, after all, you came here to do something.

A comfortable silence falls over you as you each hunker down, and Javi inevitably fumbles around behind his ear - in his pockets. With a wry smile you pre-empt his question and flick a pack of smokes towards him. He nods his thanks, thumbing one deftly out of the carton and slipping another behind his ear for later for good measure. “You owe me,” you state, dead serious, and Javi looks at you curiously as a mischievous smile flickers at the corner of your mouth. His eyes say something then too. Something like be careful what you wish for.

After a moment more without breaking eye contact -seems you don’t scare easy, which probably bodes well - he nods once again, reaching over to take your drained mug and filling it with a glug of steaming liquid from his thermos. He raises an eyebrow beneath his asymmetric sweep of hair, as if to ask: that should about cover it?

You take a measured sip, curious as to what all the fuss is about with this damn coffee, and then quickly sup another much more generous intake. “Mmm,” you hum approvingly, pleasantly surprised. “Now that’s good fucking coffee.”

Steve swears under his breath upon hearing that you’ve been won over to the dark side already, eyes still conscientiously scanning his page. Then, he surprises you. “I know it is,” he mumbles in defeat, finally conceding. “Tried to make it the way this bastard does but it never quite comes out right. Something about how he grinds the beans.” With effort, you swallow a laugh -mainly at the fact that Steve is oblivious to the fact of how endearing he’s being right now- but you can’t entirely avoid the sweeping grin which claims your face.

When you smile like that, Javi pauses for a moment to roll up his shirt-sleeves, and to flick open another of the buttons at his corded neck. You’re sure the two happenings are entirely coincidental, of course. Not at all connected.

Still, you try to get back to work, but you can feel his gaze on you, like you’re under a spotlight. “What, fucker?”

“Nothin’” he replies, his face the picture of innocence.

“Jeezus,” Steve moans tiredly, sweeping his hair back from his forehead without looking up from his paper. “Will you two just fuck already?” He sounds bored of your flirting already.

Your cheeks heat a little then at being called out, but generously, Javi directs his attention towards Steve, the offending party, reaching over to massage the back of his neck as the other man tries to shuck him off. “Jealous, sugar? Used to being my number one?”

By the time Javi looks back to you, you’ve calmed your fluster enough to retort. “Don’t go getting any ideas, Javier.”

He simply looks at you then. His liquid brown eyes burning hotter than your coffee. He looks at you like he’s saying: Oops. Too late.

Well. Shit.

No-one told you Javi would be the most dangerous thing about Colombia. The man seems to positively ignite at your teasing. Seems energised by it.

In response, you lean over the table slightly. You’d intentionally missed a couple of buttons on your blouse this evening, and this seems the best way to showcase some of your assets.

Hey, why not? Javi has a reputation, and you’re prepared to use any weapon in your arsenal. A little flirting can’t hurt, can it, if it earns you an ally?

Javi’s not stupid, however, and he looks at you as though he’s wise to your ploy. But, whatever, that doesn’t really matter so much - he looked, didn’t he?

Thankfully, Steve is still in the room to allow Javi to deflect some of this obvious tension - after all, you don’t know Javi well yet, but some things are obvious. He’s obviously somewhat attracted to you - unless it’s all simply part of his ploy too. “No problem. I’ll take a leaf out of Stevey’s book. He hasn’t had a good idea since 1975.”

You share a juvenile chuckle with the man at Steve’s expense, and you offer Javi a light as he brings the smoke up to his lips. In moments, your faces are appled with lingering smiles and smoke is curling around your hair, a pleasant buzz in the room.

Javi is kinda easy to be around, isn’t he, occasional surliness aside?

“Focus up, numbnut,” Steve compels his partner. He has a point, mind. You do have work to do, and here you and Javi are whispering and flirting like kids in a college library. “She’s right. We need something.” I need something, is the part he doesn’t say out loud.

You feel no small amount of pride as they each nod in agreement and hunker back down, taking this seriously. Taking you seriously.

With a thoughtful hum, Javi bridges his hand over one of your meticulously coded hand-outs. “Let’s start with these questions. Okay by you?”

You nod.

Good. This is good.

And maybe it’s just the coffee, but everyone looks just a little less tired.

***

That energy is short-lived, to say the least.

It’s hours later and you are still settled around the table, bodies slumping and smoke hanging all ghostly against the ceiling of the room. Yawns are stifled behind fists and then not stifled at all. The coffee has run dry and so has the optimism from earlier - theirs and yours - that you could make a damned bit of difference.

You’re all so lethargic and barely keeping your eyes open, and you’re not sure if you’re even reading words anymore but your eyes are still scanning left to right on the page regardless.

This lethargy is why it’s so noticeable when your body suddenly stiffens and you sit bolt upright in your chair, furiously tapping the paper with the pad of your forefinger. “This!” you exclaim, your eyebrows almost shooting off the top off your head. “What’s this?” It is all you can do to prod the sheet repeatedly, too excited suddenly to get your words out, your heart racing.

You’ve had too many false alarms already this evening.

Still, it bears checking. Javi leans over, languidly, glancing over the sheet. He shakes his head, waves a dismissive hand, and you can see it then. See it on the tip off his tongue, and in Steve’s eyes too. They want to call it. “We looked at this… vehicle logs.”

“Yeah Peña, I see that” you say, not meaning it to come out quite so biting. “But this was July. Did you cross it with the latest wire tap from the- Here, just fucking look, would you?“ you plead, voice tipping up an octave.

Your mouth dries up, and you can’t even get your words out anymore. It is all you can do to swipe the other file from Javi’s side of the table and lay it out for him. Side by side. Vigorously prodding the paper. “Just fucking look.”

Javi sighs and leans over, clearly not expecting much.

But then, Javi stands bolt upright, surging from his seat. You stand too, an involuntary tremble in your hands, your legs. Steve turns his body towards you, his jaw dropping open and eyes dancing between the two of you expectantly.

Javi bridges his hands on the table to get a better look, reading and rereading, his eyes darting, mumbling under his breath. You nod eagerly along as you follow his train of thought, hearing him join the dots that you just had - at least, hoped you had. Your heart is in your mouth as you listen to him go over it not once, not twice, but three times, to be sure.

He runs a hand over his head, sweeping his mop of dark hair all the way back from his brow as though what he’s seeing staggers him.

Then, fingers bridged on the table again, still, he looks away from the files and up at you. Looks at you where you now stand opposite, clasping your hands together against your chest in hope.

He looks at you in gratitude. With respect. In disbelief. He looks at you and his expression says: I could kiss you.

“Steve?” Javi prods urgently, still unable to turn his head to actually look at him. “Steve, buddy,” he presses, dragging the pad of his thumb along his lower lip, still blinking in disbelief at you and letting it sink in.

Steve stands now too, no doubt with the same surge of adrenaline you had each just felt, his jaw dropping open, and then there the three of you are - all stood around the table, looking between each other as though not a single one of you expected this to actually happen. “We got something?” Steve asks, almost as if he doesn’t dare to hear the answer. Blinking a few times as if to check he’s not actually asleep facefirst in a bowl of stale chips.

“She’s got something,” Javi rejoices, and a smile finally claims his face. He pushes off his hands and comes fully to standing, turning immediately towards Steve. “Now come here so I can kiss you,” he says before grabbing his buddy by the face and planting a smacker on his cheek.

Then, they turn back towards you again, eyes glowing. You exhale through a smile, head shaking slowly as though you don’t quite believe it. You have a fresh lead to chase.

Steve reacts more quickly - immediately feels this is cause for celebration, and you would agree. “I’ve got a bottle of-“

“-Come on,” Javi announces, before Steve can offer his sub-par tipple, already gathering his jean jacket up from where it is laid and slipping it on his broad shoulders. “We’re going out for a real drink.”

Steve is past arguing. He and Javi mobilise excitedly towards the door, like two school kids finally hearing the bell for spring break. When they realise you’re still stood there, motionless and a little bit in shock, Javi turns his head back to you, jolting you from your stupor.

You came here to make a difference. You hadn’t known if you could really do it.

“You up for that, sweetheart?” he asks, with an effortlessly charming smile. “Think you can handle it?”

In response, you scoop your leather jacket up determinedly from the chair back, a lopsided smile claiming your face. “You’d be surprised at what I can handle, Peña.” Hell. You inject a little flirtation in there too, because why the fuck not? It doesn’t hurt to win some allies. To release a little bit of pent up pressure, does it?

Javi pouts his shapely lips again, and then a smile claims him too. “Welcome to the fucking team,” he says with a nod, with a finality, and you feel elated that he has made it official. That you have begun to prove yourself. You’re only just getting started.

You need Javi, you figure. You know it. You have a feeling he will prove to be your ace. However, you also know now that you’ll need to watch out for him. To keep your guard up, because he’s just your type. A hottie with brains too, so help you. And goddamn, he smells fucking delicious.

Still, you’re not worried. You weren’t kidding when you said it- you think you can handle him just fine. “Hey Murph,” you ask, leading headlong towards the proving of your point. “Wanna take a bet with me?”

“What’re you into?” Steve asks, scooping up his keys from the key bowl and shrugging his jacket on.

“How long it’s gonna be before Peña works in that he’s packing over 4 inches.” You figure he can’t stand to let that one lie for too long. You don’t know him well yet, but some things are obvious.

Besides, you’ve already heard the rumours. Got some intel from the typists that you never even had to ask for.

Steve laughs. A hearty laugh, that he probably hasn’t heard coming from himself in a long while. It endears you to the man.

And then, pushing past them both in the corridor to lead the way down the stairs, you look back over your shoulder.

Javi gives you a quick, subtle wink as you do so, which has you feeling alarmingly warm beneath the collar. And, his eyes say something too. Something like: curious, honey?

Yeah. Okay. Somehow, you have a feeling you and Javi will get along just fine.

You already feel part of the team.

And, holy shit, the tension between you and him is… unexpected.

You swallow, and smooth your sweaty palms on your thighs. Then, you only have one thought as you all bundle out of the door.

Thank god for Steve.

God knows how you would handle Javi if you had been left alone.

You bundle out into the street together and the slightly cooler air is a relief. And fuck, you don’t know them well, but you already feel like you’d die for either one of these dumbasses.

You only hope that notion isn’t ever tested.

[toxicanonymity]

Javi isn't home (the raid one shot).

1740 words, dark!Steve Murphy x f!reader A/N: The Raid AU, after The Raid pt 2.

NEXT: No Good | The Raid Masterlist WARNINGS: I8+ PWP, captivity, dirty talk, oral, dubcon unsafe p in V initiated by reader, ass smacking, degradation (neediness), praise, pet names

Javi isn’t home. The television turns on upstairs, and a woman starts moaning. You listen with butterflies in your chest, hoping to catch a grunt or more from Steve. The man in the porno says, you love this big cock, don't you? Ohh yeah.  You lie completely still on Javi’s bed, trying to hear as much as you can without holding your breath. After a minute, you begin to hear Steve’s deep voice. “Ohh, fuck.” You can picture his eyes darkening and the veins on his arm and hand bulging as he strokes himself. “Ohh, yeah.” 

This morning, Javi put you in a dress and didn't cuff you to anything but yourself. You can’t very well touch yourself with your hands cuffed behind your back. You turn over on your stomach.  “Ohh,” he moans. You try pressing your hips into the mattress for pressure. You think about what Steve said: He’s not gonna hold out on you. Want anything from him? Just ask. 

It might have been all talk, you can’t be sure, but you take the chance and yell upstairs. He sighs and the television cuts off. His heavy footsteps echo down the metal stairs in the breezeway 

. . 

Steve unlocks the door to Javi's bedroom and pushes it open. He's dressed casually today.  He pauses in the door frame and your eyes go straight to a shapely bulge in his gray sweatpants.

He stretches his back with his hands on the top of the doorframe. His pale inner biceps swell out of the sleeves of his plain white t-shirt with a little hole under the collar. The shirt rides up exposing a light happy trail. 

“Need somethin’, darlin’?” He asks, then steps into the room. He checks you out, then his eyes dart around the room and he shifts his weight impatiently. 

“Did I interrupt anything?” 

He follows your eyes to his sweatpants, then looks down and away and chuckles to himself. 

Then you ask, “Why do guys jerk off even if they can just have sex?”

He slowly approaches you where you sit at the foot of the bed. 

He looms over you and cups the back of your head. “Look at this poor girl, can't even touch herself.” He shakes his head and his eyes traverse your body hungrily. Then he answers, “We do it ‘cause it's easy. And sometimes we're tired.” 

Your eyes return to his pants and you'd love to be grabbing him, feeling the hard shape through the soft cotton.  You ask, “Doesn't it feel better to be inside someone?”

He swallows and his eyes come to life with a twinkle. He stares you down for a beat then asks, “That why I'm down here?”

“If you want.” 

“Mmm,” he growls breathily. He takes his time getting the key for the cuffs. You stand up and turn for him to unlock them. 

“There ya go,” he murmurs. 

He puts them aside, then his hand covers your chest, and you're swiftly pushed against the nearest wall. 

His hardness digs into your front as he pins you there. He looks over your face, then your chest as he slides his palm down to cup a breast. He pulls his pelvis back, then rolls his hips into you once. 

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “‘Course it feels better inside.” 

He shoves his hand between your legs. “Somewhere warm, and . . . wet.” The wet smacking noise from his touch makes your cheeks heat up as he feels around and teases your uncovered hole. “Damn, sugar. Can ya hear me that well upstairs?”

You reach between you, going for his crotch, but he intercepts your wrist with his free hand. He allows you to palm him, but he guides your hand slowly with his. Then he takes your hand and slips it into his waistband. You hold his smooth, hard cock and desire floods your body. He braces an arm against the wall above you and thrusts into your hand. “Think you're ready for this, all alone?” 

You nod with a rush of need between your legs.  

“Good girl,” he mutters. “On your knees.” You ache for his cock to just be shoved up your cunt already, but you obediently drop to your knees. 

He pulls his sweatpants down under his ass. You take his cock in your hand, stiff and a little sticky from the remnants of lotion. You don't want to be obvious about your curiosity, but you're pretty sure you couldn't close your fingers around his girth if you tried. You bring your lips to the leaking head and suck it into your mouth with an, “Mmm.” The slight chemical tinge of the lotion fades when his salty precum hits the back of your tongue and you suck. 

“Real thirsty, ain't ya?” He asks as you begin to suck him. Saliva pools in your mouth and you let it slobber out of the corners of your lips as you bob your head on him. His hips begin to move, nice and smooth, subtly pushing his cock in and out of your mouth.  “Mmm. . . coulda left those cuffs on and fucked this pretty face,” he murmurs. Then you lift up his cock and cradle his balls to look at them. You lick around one then suck it into your mouth as you pump his cock. 

“God damn, I love these pretty hands though.”

You look up at him and he looks down at you. You suck his other nut. “Oooh, baby,” he whispers. 

You return your lips to the head of his cock, but hesitate and look up at him. “Can you fuck me?” You ask, hoping he'll make good on his promise. 

“What now?” He tilts his head, and gently takes his cock from you. “Want me to put this somewhere else, don't ya?” 

“Please,” you beg. 

“Why don't ya bend over and show me where.” He nods toward the foot of the bed. You begin to get up to walk over there but he shakes his head. “No need to get up.”

You crawl toward the bed and lift your dress up over your bare ass, then brace both hands on the mattress. 

He moseys over, slowly stroking his big cock. “Show me where ya want it, sugar.” You tilt your hips and reach back to finger your wet, puffy cunt. 

“Spread yourself for me, darlin’.”

You obey him, using two fingers to spread yourself open. 

“God damn, look at her drippin’ for me,” he mutters to himself. “Attagirl.” 

He smacks your ass, then kneels behind you, straddling your legs. 

As soon as his tip hits your entrance, you withdraw your hand and he begins to push inside. 

“Ohhh,” you moan as he spreads your walls with his delicious length. He grunts and you gasp as he bottoms out and your cunt stretches around him.   

“Mmm,” he stays all the way inside for a moment before backing up and slamming back in. He smacks your ass again. “Sure do feel good.”

He doesn’t waste much time before fucking you at a steady rhythm. His balls hit your ass and the sound of slapping skin makes your chest hot. His growls are deep and soft, and his low voice makes you twitch on his cock every time he opens his mouth. “God damn, baby,” he fucks you harder. “Look at you takin' this big cock. Askin’ for it, too.” You push back on him and his stiff manhood spreads you apart with every thrust. “Attagirl.” He smacks your ass again. “Gonna let ya come, too.” He bends forward and lowers his voice. “Daddy Peña don't gotta know–MMm.” 

The knot in your lower belly quickly tightens under his moans and grunts. “Oh, baby,” he breathes. “Oh, fuck.” 

The tension snaps and you whimper as your pussy squeezes him.

“Oh, fuck, oh,--fuuhhh–ohhhh,” Steve slams into you and begins to pulse, and ohh God. You flutter around him, unsure if this is okay with Javi but so glad it's happening. Steve doesn't show any sign of hesitation. “Mmmm.” He pulls back halfway, slides back  into you slowly, cock swelling with each pulse, bottoming out one last time as he floods your core.  He sighs, then pulls out. “Whew.” He grabs your ass, then sits on the bed with his cock already stuffed away, maintaining a bulge in his sweatpants. “How's that?” He asks and you nod. 

He lets you go to the bathroom, and when you come back, he’s sitting on the foot of the bed with the handcuffs and key. 

He’s just finished cuffing you when you start to ask, “Will he mind that you, um. . .” 

“Dumped a big load in ya?”

“Yeah,” you nod. 

“Nah, I don’t think he’ll mind, sugar. But I’ll clean ya up if ya want.” 

“It’s okay.” 

“Sure? I don’t mind. Let’s have a look. Bend over for me.” 

You resume the position you were in, on your knees, bent over the foot of the bed. You pull the dress up over your ass again. He gets down on the floor, putting the key aside. He kneels and holds your ass, and you tilt your hips. He spreads your pussy lips with his thumbs. 

“He’s right, it’s a pretty pussy. ‘Specially like this, all fucked out.” 

His tongue hits your cunt first, and you flinch, hands still cuffed behind your back. He latches on, sealing his lips and using his hands on your hips to pull you into his face. He laps and sucks, and your sensitive bits twitch. His hair brushes against your cuffed hands. You feel another climax building. His tongue reaches forward, teasing your clit. He moans into your folds and sucks. He sharpens his tongue and thrusts it into you. Then he pulls his face away and fingers you. He teases your clit with his middle finger, then slides it inside. He digs around, swiping his thick digit along your walls and you’re throbbing and twitching. 

“Mm,” you moan. 

“Yeah, gimme one more, sugar. Wanna see it trickle out.”  He withdraws his finger and works your clit until the pressure boils over and you’re whimpering as your walls clench around nothing. “Yeah,” he murmurs as some more of his seed trickles out of your hole.” He plants his lips again. He licks and sucks at your cunt, then plants a little kiss on your ass cheek and asks, “Better?”

“Thanks,” you whisper. 

He lets your dress back down. “Any time.” 

---

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Thots are welcome 🔥

Thank you for reading 🖤🖤🖤 lmk if you want on a tag list for the raid.

btw I'm trying something new - anons are off when I'm asleep or working but on in the evenings (est) unless I'm really busy. there are a few reasons for this, none I want to address publicly. depending on how this goes i may keep anons off altogether, but my DMs will remain open..

yeah this didn't rly work out. but plz feel free to dm me 🖤 blogs of all types and sizes, don't be shy

[pascalpanic]

Okay hi I’m back with an IDEA☄️

So. I’ve been thinking about how stubborn javi would be with his feelings. Like maybe he’s being messing around with this girl and he knows he has feelings for her and she knows it too but both of them are so stubborn so they go out of their way just getting under each other’s skin.

Like imagine they’re at a bar with steve and she’s just flirting around and dancing with guys all the while shooting him bedroom eyes and he’s just there BROODING AND ANGRY n Steve is just like “you guys are so insufferable” UGH

aaaaaaa i love this so much!! here we are:

Always Been Yours (Javier Peña x f!Reader)

Summary: Javier doesn’t take kindly to having his dance partner stolen from him.

W/C: 2.7k

Warnings: language, lots of bad flirting, mentions of sex and sexual topics but nothing too explicit, Javier is his own warning. alcohol and cigarettes.

A/N:  ☄️ anon you have done it again!! this was so much fun to write I hope it’s what you were thinking!!

Restraint is one of Javier’s best qualities. He can hold back when he needs to, save his emotions until they’re all too much then channel them out by fucking or drinking them away. He does it often, in fact. Sometimes, that restraint is too strict. Javier never allows himself to relax, never allows himself the luxury of feeling the powerful emotions his mind creates. 

This restraint can sometimes transfer over even when Javier doesn’t mean to. He wants to let loose, he really does, but he physically can’t most of the time. Contrary to the men at work who tell him he’s too impulsive, he’s an overthinker. He mentally runs every possible outcome of any situation he’s in. He just picks the more dangerous options sometimes.

Javier holds back his emotions even more when it comes to romance. He sleeps around quite a bit, does what he pleases with whomever he chooses. It’s not because he lacks feelings or attachment, it’s because he fears them both. He knows what he did to Lorraine hurt her immensely. He never wants to hurt someone again, and so he avoids romantic relationships. 

He fell for you when he met you. It was as plain and simple as that. When you moved your cardboard box into the desk in the corner of his and Murphy’s bullpen, his eyes were drawn to you. You had such an elegant and beautiful walk, he noticed. Your head was held high, your hips swayed like you were dancing. When you shook his hand, when he felt your soft fingers in his calloused palm, he was fucked. 

He flirted with you. Of course he did. That’s how Javier does things. The flirting was subtle and quiet, not loud and brash like he normally was. He told you he loved those earrings, that that blouse was really beautiful. It always tied back to how beautiful you were. 

It escalated when he realized you were into him too. You’d flirt back shamelessly, telling him that you wished you were involved with the narcos so that he'd pay more attention to you. He’d shoot back that you weren’t looking right, because his eyes were always trained on you. Steve made a vomiting noise at that and left for more coffee. “You’re just jealous he’s flirting with me and not you, Murphy,” you called out after him. You looked back at Javi with a devilish grin, and he shot one back in return.

That’s how your relationship has been going this time. You’re down hard for Javier, completely entranced by him. When he talks about cases, you have a hard time listening. Your eyes trace his biceps, the way they bulge against the sleeves of his shirt. You make snarky comments just to see the fire in his eyes ignite again.

Javier really wants to ask you out, he does. But he fears it’s unprofessional. He fears that you just want to hook up with him, and he likes you too much to do something like that. He wants you fully, in an all-consuming way. 

You really like him, but you fear the same from him. His reputation precedes him, and you know all about Javier’s habits. You know he sleeps with informants to get information in those quiet moments after the work is done. You know he flirts with anything in a skirt around the office, and has slept with a decent number of those women too. Javier is a tornado, tearing through women faster than they can recover. If that’s not enough for him, you know he loves to frequent certain brothels in the area. You notice the sneaking way some of the girls there will grab his arm and murmur something as he walks past, the way he’s far too into it for being on the job. They know him by name sometimes. He knows them too. 

As much as you want to be with Javier, you don’t want to be with the womanizer. You want to be with him in the early hours of the morning, want to tighten his tie for him before you walk into work together. You want to make him laugh and want him to stay with you and hold you after the events of the night. 

You’re practical though. That’s not really who Javier is. You know that as well as you know the man. You want him in any way you can get him, really. That means you’re willing to just sleep with him. You’d take a night with him over never touching him at all. 

Drinks after work are a common occurrence for you, Steve, and Javier. All three of you need the assistance of alcohol to relax after the chaos that is working for the DEA. The two men order beers, and you order a strong cocktail the bar you frequent is known for.

Tonight is a rare night where Connie is out of town. You and Javier, the two single ones, demanded that the three of you absolutely must go to the club. It’s a Friday night, you got off work early for once, and you want to let loose. Steve reluctantly agreed, and now you’re sitting in the backseat while Steve drives you and Javier. 

As you enter the club, the music is loud and the bass pounds. You whoop excitedly and wander into the dance floor. Steve and Javier find barstools and sit. 

You return after that initial song ends, resting one arm on Javier’s shoulder. They ordered a drink for you, the one they know you love. “Aw, thank you guys,” you coo and rest your head on Steve’s shoulder.

“Jesus Christ, kid. You haven’t even had anything to drink yet and you’re acting like this?” The blonde scoffs and looks down at you.

You frown. “Steve, come on. It’s a Friday night, I’m with my favorite guy, and Javier is here too. How couldn’t I be this happy?”

Javier rolls his eyes at you. “Thanks for that, princesa,” he murmurs as he sips at his whiskey.

The three of you remain at the bar for a while, chatting and laughing. Eventually, a song comes on that you know Javier loves. “Alright, you big buzzkill,” you laugh and grab Javier’s strong bicep. “Come dance with me.” 

Javi groans as he stands and sets down his glass. “Fine. Only because you look so good tonight,” he mumbles to you.

Once you reach the floor, his arms wrap around your waist and yours encircle his neck. His hips start moving against yours to the music and you shudder, bare arms prickling in the humid air of the club. You rest your face in the curve of his neck as you dance, both of you moving your feet in perfect time with the other. 

He’s a wonderful dancer, you already knew, but something about it is extremely intimate. Your bodies, which have long desired the other’s, are flush against each other. He can feel your tits pressing into his chest and one of your hands slides up into his hair, toying with the waves it finds there. He uses all of the power he physically has to stop the blood from flowing straight to his dick. 

“You’re good at this,” you mumble into his ear.

“Only because it’s you I’m dancing with.”

Your time in Javier’s arms doesn’t last long. You dance more separately now, one hand of his still on your waist. It all shifts when another man puts a hand on your hip and turns you his way. “Can I steal you away?” He asks. He’s handsome, dark hair and dark eyes. He’s tall, taller than Javi. You don’t want anyone but your DEA agent, but this presents a wonderful opportunity. 

“Of course,” you nod and he twirls you into his arms, wrapping one arm around you and taking one of your hands in his.

Javier watches in disbelief at the ease the man had in taking you from him. You’re now pressed to this random man’s chest, one hand resting over his heart. You giggle at something he murmurs to you and your body is pressed tight against his. 

Javier stalks off back to the bar, sitting back down next to Murphy and slamming his whiskey. “Another one,” he calls from the bartender, who has another glass tumbler sitting in front of the man in a matter of seconds.

He watched you from the bar with a growing fire in his eyes. The way your hips moved was like the spinning of a hypnotist’s wheel, drawing him in until he couldn’t look away. You were passed around from man to man, grinning and laughing the entire time. You were having fun, that much was clear, and it almost made Javier feel bad for the jealousy that burned a pit in his stomach. He lights a cigarette to dull the want he feels for you.

Your partner spins you around and you lock eyes with Javier. They’re trained on you, they have been the whole night. You smirk a little before continuing the turn, wrapping yourself into your partner’s chest as he pulls you along across the floor. 

Steve rolls his eyes and downs the rest of his beer. “For the love of fuckin’ Christ, Peña. Either quit staring at her like that or go fuckin’ get her from that man.”

Javier glares back at Steve. “Shut the fuck up. You’re supposed to be my wingman, not to fucking yell at me.”

“You need to be yelled at. I am being your wingman. In my professional opinion, as a man who’s fucking married to a woman who played the hard-to-get deal, you need to go show her that you actually do like her or she’s gonna end up going home with that fucker.”

Steve always gives Javier the tough love he needs. He groans as he realizes that Steve is probably right. He needs to go do something now. You lock eyes with him and give him your best teasing smile, your eyes showing everything. You’re having fun, but if Javier comes and stops you, you’d let him do whatever the fuck he wants. “Come get me,” you mouth to the man before resting your head against your partner’s chest, laughing and swaying along with him. 

Javier downs his second whiskey and stands. “Fuck it.”

“Atta boy,” Steve laughs and claps him on the back. “I’m telling you now, I’m not driving the two of you home if you’re gonna be making out in the backseat.”

Javier smirks and stubs out his cigarette in an ashtray on the bar. “I live close enough to walk.” He cracks his neck and makes his way out into the rainbow-colored chaos that is the crowded dance floor. 

You’re hard to find in a sea of people, all of them twirling and moving. Some women have their heads on their partner’s chest, making it even harder to find you. Javier finds the last man who held you in his arms, the one wearing a green shirt. He’s got someone else now. 

Javier is caught by surprise when two arms wrap around his neck and his naturally find their way to rest on the hips of the person: you. “Hey, Peña,” you grin at him, one hand resting on his chest. “Sorry I got pulled away.”

“No you’re fucking not,” the man laughs, moving you along to the music.

“I am,” you refute him, frowning a little. “I wanted to dance with you, but I figured I’d give the other guys a shot. Especially since you’re taking your sweet ass time with me.”

Javier’s eyes darken slightly. “They should’ve realized you’re mine.”

You look up at him, tilting your head and eyes narrowing. “Oh, I’m yours?”

He shakes his head. “We both can tell. You know that, know what’s between us.”

“No clue what you’re talking about.”

“Can I show you, then?” He offers. 

You nod, scrunching your nose. “Do your worst, Javi.”

He cups the side of your face with one large hand and kisses you deeply. You gasp in surprise, even though you knew it was coming. It’s warm and perfect, Javier’s strong arms holding you in place.

The rest of the dance floor twirls and moves along, but you and Javier have stopped moving. Your feet are planted firmly to the ground, arms wrapped around him like an anchor point in a sea of people. He kisses you harder and you allow it, kissing him back just as deeply. He tastes like whiskey and you taste like the fruity cocktail you drank earlier. Normally, the two would taste awful combined, but it doesn’t matter because now it tastes like you and Javier and anything with him included is the most delicious thing you’ve ever had the pleasure of gracing your tastebuds.

He breaks away a moment later. “Can I buy you a drink?” He asks teasingly.

“Not if you want me in your bed tonight,” you flirt right back. You can feel the apples of your cheeks warming with a rush of blood from the kiss, from what you’re insinuating, from the alcohol and from the movement on the floor.

“I don’t. I just want you in my arms and maybe on my lips some more.”

You look up at him, truly astounded. “I thought you’d just want to fuck me and be done,” you admit honestly as you push back a strand of dark brown hair that fell into his face while the two of you moved.

“I don’t want that,” he shakes his head still breathless from the kiss. “I want you to be mine. I wanna take my time with you, and yeah I wanna fuck you, but I wanna date you properly and bring you flowers and walk you home late at night, and then I wanna rail you into the mattress so hard all you can feel is me. But that can wait. For now, I just wanna dance with you and tell you that I really like you. Have for a while now.”

You’re grinning ear to ear at his words. “Really?” You ask.

“No,” he deadpans. “I just said all that shit for fun.” 

“Your sarcasm is really annoying when I’m trying to be sweet and sincere with you.”

He sighs. “Yes, really, princesa. I just want you to be mine.”

The grin on your face only widens, your heart in your eyes as you look at him. “You don’t need to want it. I’m already yours. Didn’t you say that?” The music changes into a new song, something slower and sultry. “Ooh, I love this one,” you sing to Javi, forcing him along so that the two of you are once again dancing. “I’ve always been yours, Javi,” you admit, your thumb softly tracing the side of his neck from where your hand rests on his shoulder. “Since the moment we met. I really like you.”

“I really like you too, dulzura,” he murmurs and kisses you again. It’s not all-consuming or hot and sloppy like the last one. It’s warm and chaste with only the purest of intentions, Javier’s hands gripping your waist a little softer. 

He gets carried away by the way your lips meet his. One of his feet steps on your toes, exposed by the heels you’re wearing. “Fuck,” you cry and wince. 

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry,” he mumbles, instinctually taking a step back from you so that he can’t possibly do it again.

You smile up at him softly as the pain subsides. “It’s alright. Maybe we’ll just need to get you some dancing lessons,” you tease and pull him close again.

You spend the rest of the song like that, slowly swaying along. Javier’s arms wrap around your waist, and he softly kisses the side of your head a few times. Eventually, your head finds its way to his shoulder, where it rests as Javier quietly mumbles the lyrics of the song to you. 

He’s not very good at it, and he’d be the first to admit it, but it’s beautiful when he’s soft and quiet. He’s doing it just for you, this quiet act of intimacy. You press a kiss to the skin of his neck when the song ends and he hums a chuckle. “My girl,” he murmurs and kisses you one last time. “Let’s go home.”

-

taglist: 

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867

[emmikmil]

give him a show

Pairing: Steve Murphy x Female!Reader with Javi watching...

Rating: 18+ EXPLICIT read the warnings y’all, please

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Exhibitionism/Voyeurism (ALL parties consenting!), Oral (M and F receiving), Masturbation (M), Smut P in V) THIS IS FICTIONAL OK BE SAFE IRL PEEPS. A literal smack to the face, biting/marking, choking, very brief anal play.

A/N: wow this fic... is something lol. It's been an idea and half written for a couple months now and I'm happy it's finally finished!! big shout out to @soyelfuegoquearde for the beta read and @knivesareout for being the best and waiting so long. Enjoy!

“Last call for drinks before we start this movie fellas!” Steve flicks his eyes up and down your frame as you stand above him and his work partner Javier with your arms crossed, waiting expectantly. Javi snaps out of his daze and quietly asks for another beer. Steve smiles and shakes his head when you turn to him, as he’s still nursing his lukewarm beer from dinner. This has been a ritual between you three the past few months, Javi would join the two of you for dinner and a movie whenever time allowed. Steve had seen it in your eyes the moment Javi made a joke about barely cooking for himself, the ‘oh god, this man needs an actual home-cooked meal’ kind of look. So, dinner and movie nights happened as often as it could, tonight being one of those nights. 

Steve narrows his eyes and lets out a quiet huff as he watches Javi watch your swinging hips as you walk back to the kitchen. It had bothered Steve in the beginning when Javi would stare at your ass, but as soon as he realized Javi did this with nearly every woman that passed him, Steve didn’t take it to heart. There was no sense in causing a rift just because he felt territorial over his girl. That doesn’t mean, however, that he can’t poke a little bit at his friend. 

"Wanna borrow my polaroid, Peña?" His words seem to shake Javi from his daze and he has the courtesy to look ashamed as he scratches the back of his neck. “Don’t get me wrong I get it, she has a great ass, amongst other things...” the last bit being muttered into his beer bottle and Steve can’t help his sly grin when he sees Javi’s eyes grow wide. 

“Hey baby, you wanna go ahead and start on that popcorn?” Steve asks as you saunter back into the room and hand Javi his beer. You offer Steve a wink and a mock salute before you turn and walk back to the kitchen. Once you’re safely out of earshot, Steve turns his eyes back to Javi. “Look, I trust you, she and I both do,  so that’s why I’m about to give you an offer. You say no, that’s fine, just throwing it out there.” Javi looks incredibly suspicious as he sips his beer. but makes a gesture with his hand for Steve to continue. “My girl likes to be watched. Likes giving a show to people while she’s being fucked. I’m not sayin’ I share now, I don’t. She likes the thrill of having eyes on her and she’s missed it since we left Miami and the few people we trusted, so…”

” Steve stops to make sure Javi is keeping up. He’s not totally freaking out like Steve thought he would which is a plus. “So if you were to pass out just before the credits roll, I take my girl to the bedroom and leave the door half open…You can watch, touch yourself, take a damn picture for all I care. But if you take one step in that room without her and I agreeing to it, there's gonna be problems for you, you got me?”

“What if I’m not interested?” Even though Javi asks, Steve can tell by the look in his eyes and the slight flush to his cheeks that he is. in fact, very interested.

“Finish the movie and leave like always, it’s up to you man.” With that, the conversation ends as you stroll back in with the popcorn and plop down between the two men. Steve leans over to pop a piece into his mouth as you press play on the remote. Steve settles in, smirking as Javi eyes you carefully and settles in to half-heartedly watch the movie.

------- 

" No, Steve leave him there, poor guy is sleeping for once." you whisper as Steve leaned over you to shake Javi awake. You bat his hand away and stand to gently lay the throw blanket from the couch over Javis’s slightly snoring form. Steve stands quickly and wraps his arm around your waist as you bend and reach for the dishes on the coffee table. 

"Leave it darlin', I'll clean up in the morning, just come on to bed," he whispers in your ear and places gentle kisses down the side of your neck. He sucks gently on your pulse point and grips your waist harder as he feels you shiver. You're quick to grab his hand and lead him to the bedroom, but Steve doesn't make the journey easy. He's fueled by your giggles and warm skin and can't help but pull at your clothes and suck on your neck as you both stumble down the hall. Steve gains some of his senses back as you both pass the threshold of your bedroom and he grabs your hips harshly, pulling you back into his chest. 

As one hand travels up from your hip to gently hold your throat he speaks "Strip, get on your knees on the bed and face me." Steve tightens his hand until a whimper escapes you. Satisfied, he releases you and with his heavy gaze on you, you strip quickly to kneel on the bed. Steve pushes the door to close a bit and moves to stand at the foot of the bed.

“Now come on honey, get to work.". Steve can’t help but smirk as you roll your eyes and reach for his belt buckle. You don’t waste any time in releasing him from his pants and boxers and sneaks a small lick to the head of his cock before pulling his pants down. Steve kicks them off and yanks his shirt off, throwing it off to the corner. He hisses and looks down as you bite the thin skin near his hip bone and suck harshly. You both know that he bruises like a peach and would have this mark for damn near a week. Steve’s hand reaches for your hair, fisting it in his hand. He knew you were eager, just as much as he was, but you were feisty with your teases tonight. 

“You really wanna rush this, handsome?” you tease as you stroke him to his full hardness. Steve grunts and gives a firm tug to your hair and shoots you a warning glare. He can see your teasing glint in your eyes dim knowing right now he’s not up for playing games. Steve watches with heavy lids as you take him into your mouth, going at a slow pace before you build up to suck him further down your throat.

“That’s it, you be a good girl and you get rewarded. Tease me and I'll make your night hell.” Steve smirks as he looks down at you. You were so engrossed in his cock you didn't even notice the small shift of light from the hallway as a figure stands at the half-open door. Steve knew that his hand on your throat, a few praises, and the promise of a reward would get your mind hazy with lust; just enough to dull your other sense and not notice Javi at the door.

-------

From his spot at the door, Javi saw a mouth-watering sight. He had the perfect view of the tantalizing act taking place before him; the silhouette of you, your hair wrapped around Steve's hand, your eyes closed, mouth and throat full to the brim with cock. Javi has to bite his fist to keep from making a sound as he watches your throat constrict and swallow around Steve's cock. From a glance, Javi knew his cock was thicker and the images in his mind of your lips stretched out even more over his length had him unbuckling his jeans as quietly and quickly as possible. Javi has been hard ever since Steve had offered this scene to him on a damn silver platter. He thanks his lucky stars that staring at your ass landed him here and not with a punch to the face.

He keeps one fist between his teeth, not wanting to give his position away, and the other he grabs his leaking dick and matches the pace you’ve set for Steve. By now you have gotten into the groove, and it’s no longer slow and sensual. You were taking all of Steve’s cock that you could and christ, Javi could tell you knew exactly what you were doing. Javi could hear you make small moans with whatever Steve was whispering to you and then Steve is thrusting his hips, driving himself into your mouth even deeper. Javi knows for a fact that his dreams tonight would be filled with nothing but the sounds of your gags and slurps. This was by far the sloppiest blowjob Javi has ever seen and to his utter shock, his abdomen tightens and he spills his load all over his hand. He has been so focused on you he didn’t even notice how fast his orgasm had been building, and his eyes were watering with the effort of keeping quiet. As the last spurts of cum coated his hand and splatters on his shirt, he watches through hazy eyes as Steve pulls out of your mouth, a string of your saliva stretched between your swollen and parted lips and the flushed head of Steve’s cock. If Javi had the ability to cum again right then and there he knew he would.

-------

Steve wipes your chin and mouth gently before kissing you softly. "Alright now, let me get a taste sweet thing, lie back for me." It's almost comical to him how fast your legs swing around so you can lie back, your head just missing the pillows at the top. Steve grabs your ankles and pulls your body closer to him, settling you near the edge of the bed. He smiles wolfishly down at you as you throw your hand over your mouth, already covering it in anticipation of what's to come. 

He kneels to spread your thighs and begins to pepper sweet kisses from one ankle to the seam of your leg and back down. Steve smirks as you shift below him and thrust your hips up whimpering and telling him to hurry the hell up already. Now because you’ve sassed back, Steve uses no mercy in getting some sweet revenge. He bites harshly into your inner thigh like you did with his hip earlier, and soothes the spot with his tongue. He continues like this for a couple of minutes, leaving bites on each thigh that will leave you marked for at least three days after. Steve finally feels generous and shows you mercy, licking up your cunt and circling around your clit expertly with his tongue. Your sigh turns to a gasp as he takes both your legs, bending your knees to your chest as he suckles on your clit. You're so drunk on the feel of his mouth you don't notice him angling your body so Javi could see your dripping core from the doorway.

Steve continues to lap at your folds hungrily, showing you just as much attention as you showed him. He listens to your whimpers grow higher in pitch, moving to slow down and trace lazy circles around your clit and tease you entrance with his fingers. He waits until your whimpers die down a little before he plunges two of his long fingers inside you, groaning as he leaves your clit when you scramble to muffle the loud gasp you let out. Steve uses his free hand to move your legs back down and kisses up your body as he slowly finger fucks you. When he reaches your face he grabs your hand that's covering your mouth and moves it away. As you go to cover your mouth again, Steve clicks his tongue in disapproval. "No ma'am, you're gonna let the whole building hear how good i’m making ya feel."

"But...but Javi is still-fuck- he's asleep and could wake-" Steve cuts you off with a hard kiss and he looks down at you, that predatory glint in his eyes. He starts to thrust his fingers faster and Steve smiles as you jerk beneath him. 

"Now honey, you can't wake a man who's already watching you from the door." Steve damn near laughs at your wide eyes and the hitch in your breath. He eyes your torso up and down as you turn your head to look at the shadow in the doorway. Steve watches you turn back to him, a deep fire lit in your eyes.

"He agreed to it?" Steve just nods to confirm your question and stills his hand to give you a gentle kiss on your sweaty forehead and leans back to look you in the eye. Before he can ask you whisper “Can he come in? Where i can see him?” Steve just nods again and slowly starts to finger fuck you again.

Steve starts to trail kisses down your body and nestles back between your thighs. He then turns his attention to the doorway. “Alright Javi, you can come in.'' As the door creaks open and Javi steps into view, Steve can’t help but still his hand inside you and laugh at the sight; Javi, with his pants undone, cock half-hard, cum dripping from his hand and splattered on his shirt, eyes wide and cheeks flushed.  Steve, however,  is struck silent with a firm smack to the face. His head whips around to glare at your sweet face smiling brightly at the dumbstruck agent in your doorway.

“There’s tissues on the nightstand and the chair is right there Javi.”  You gesture to the chair in the corner, with the perfect view of you and the bed. Steve isn’t impressed as you turn your smile back to him as you lie back down on the bed, but he smiles back just as sweet as he pulls his fingers out of you and stands up and away from you. As he stares down at you, he sees Javi in his peripheral and notices his cock jumping as you whine and plead out a pathetic apology to get him back. Instead, Steve just stares at you, before turning his head to Javi. 

“Go ahead and get comfortable. Lubes in the top drawer. And you-” his blazing eyes returning back to stare at you “-you flip over and show me your pretty ass. You slap me, I’ll slap back honey, now move.” He watches as you quickly follow his command, and once you're on your hands and knees he grips your hip with one hand and delivers a sharp smack to your ass, the sounds reverberating off the walls of the small room along with your shout. Steve makes sure to smooth the area over with his hand and bends to give it a small kiss. 

“Ya know honey,“ Steve stands and grips his cock, running it through your wet folds as you whimper at the feeling. "he’s been staring at your ass for weeks now, haven’t you Peña?” Steve looks up to watch as you and Javi lock eyes. Javi’s eyes burn with desire and he's clearly more comfortable, now naked and slowly stroking his lube slicked cock. Steve didn’t even have to look at you to know that your eyes were following Javi's every movement as you wiggle your hips to get Steve to slip in. He’s careful not to slide in just yet, instead Steve stares at Javi until he flicks his eyes off of you. “Bet you’d like her like this Javi, it's the perfect view.” Steve then suddenly pulls away and gives your other ass cheek a punishing slap, and as you yelp and shake he grips your hips and enters you in one quick thrust. Steve bends to nip and kiss your shoulder as you get your breath back and adjust for a moment. 

Steve stands at his full height and slowly starts thrust in, being mindful of the first half dozen or so to get you warmed up before he really starts to pound into you. He keeps a steady pace, not too fast, but it's deep and the rhythmic slap of skin fills the room. Steve’s eyes go from watching his cock slip in and out of you to Javi, who is watching your body with rapt attention.

 Since you are a little too cock drunk to be coherent and smack him again, Steve can’t help but tease his friend more. “Ya know the only thing better than her pussy is her ass. I know you’re an ass man and damn if you ask nicely she’d let ya shove your cock up there. And shit, she sure.is.tight.” he punctuates the last words with hard thrusts that make you fall to your elbows and scream into the blankets. Steve pulls out, despite your growling protests, and bends to spit on the crack of your ass. He watches his saliva slide down and swipes his thumb through the mess and carefully pushes, adding just the slightest of pressures against your tight hole. The pressure he adds is gone as fast as it appeared and he slides back into your dripping core. As he settles into a brutal pace, your gasps and moans start to get higher and higher in pitch, Steve is damn close too, and Javi is sweating and panting as he fucks his fist in earnest. Steve can’t help himself and asks one last question. “What would you do to her right now, huh Javi?”

With his eyes glazed over, it takes a few seconds for Javi to finally speak. “Bring-bring her up and hold her throat, ch-choke her a bit.” Javi has to bite his lip and take a few breathes so he doesn’t spill his load prematurely, again. Steve however,  smiles wickedly as you clench around him tightly and moan.

Both men falter for a moment when, in your dazed state you mumble, “Fuck yes, please Javi please.” Javi is the first to respond with a muttered oh fuck as he throws his head back, and Steve takes action immediately. He scoops you up, just like Javi said, and holds your throat, gentle but firm. Just enough to make you gasp and reach for his arm as you arch into him. Steve picks up his pace, spurred on by your words, but still not wanting to let you off the hook.

“You can say his name all you want honey, but you will scream my name as you cum, cause this pussy belongs to me.” Steve closes his eyes as he pounds his last few thrusts into you. He can hear Javi let out a long groan and knows his words set his friend off the precipice, and the combination of Steve and Javi has sent you stuttering and crying out a weak shout of Steve’s name. As you break down, Steve holds your shivering body close, cradling your waist and shoulders as he stays deep in you and paints your walls.

Steve is careful to set you down, lying on your side to face Javi as he goes to get you a warm cloth, knowing you're too sensitive to be held closely right now. He steps back in the room, silently passing an extra rag to Javi and slowly cleans you. As Steve climbs in behind you to cuddle you close, Javi stands and dresses slowly. The air in the room is hot and sticky, but the silence doesn't make things uncomfortable. As Javi slips on his shirt, Steve speaks up “Thanks Peña, my girl enjoyed herself. Hope you did too.” 

Javi chuckles as he takes one last look over your naked body. “Best movie night you’ve invited me to.” Both men smile as you let out a small laugh and nod to each other as you turn to snuggle further into Steve. He pulls you closer, kissing your forehead and giving you praise for how well you did for him, for both of them. You drift off to sleep as Javi slips out through the front door, all three of you wondering if maybe every movie night should end this way.

[corrupt-fvcker]

Tuesday Mornings (Javier Peña x fem!Reader)

Tuesday Mornings ( Javier Peña x fem!Reader )

Warnings: NSFW, unprotected sex, fluff, pining, curse words, arguing, soft beginning and ending, domestic life

Word Count: 5.8K... this was supposed to be 800 words.

Author's Note: this was supposed to be all fluffy and cuddly but then it turned into a smutty five thousand word treasure. i don't write smut often so pretty please tell me what you think 🥺

Rain patters softly against the bedroom window, the foggy glass striped with droplets that left transparent streaks in their trail. The heavy rainfall pelts against the roof, resulting in a heavy, rhythmic, rapping sound that incessantly echoes through the bedroom, rousing Javier from his sleep.

A gravelly groan reverberates from deep in his chest as he stretches his arms above his head, his back arching slightly as his muscles flex and his eyelids tightly scrunch shut before melting back into the plushness of the pillows. With a twinge of reluctance weighing in the back of his mind, his eyes flutter open, his blurry vision stubbornly sharpening after a few lazy moments. The bedroom basks in a dim gray light, courtesy of the dark thunderclouds looming over the city.

He feels you shift bedside him, one of your legs curling up at an angle by your side.

His eyes flit over to your side of the bed and you're still sound asleep beside him, lying on your stomach with your face buried in the pillows. And you're naked... which is, y'know, nice.

But a little disappointing because it's Tuesday and you're lack of clothing raises his hopes before he realizes its the middle of the week.

So he glances over to the alarm clock and silently prays that it isn't set to go off for another hour so that he can simply exist next to you before having to go to work and pretend that you and him are just work friends.

But he has no such luck. Ten minutes to spare before the cube-shaped clock shatters the peaceful aura of the bedroom and forces the two of you to get up from the safety of the covers and move on with the day.

Could he work with ten minutes? Honestly, probably. But he decides against it, you need as much sleep as you can get, and thanks to his horny ass, both of you fell asleep at ungodly hours last night.

Also, he's glad you're still asleep. It's domestic. Waking up beside you brings a sense of normalcy to his life, stability that only you can offer him. And he doesn't want to even admit it to himself but warmth swells in his chest every time he thinks about how lucky he is because he's the only person in the whole world that gets to wake up next to you in the morning. And he's also a little proud because you chose him. Javier Peña — the DEA agent that had a publicly bad reputation with longterm arrangements and was honestly a bit of an ass to you.

He deeply regrets the latter, because at the time he didn't have a clue that he would be absolutely smitten with you by the end of your first year in Columbia. At first, he was abrasive towards you because you were new. And even though you were no rookie, every hotshot DEA agent that tries their luck in Columbia always either discover that they're in way over their head and leaves or get killed by the end of their second month.

But then you didn't quit, and then you didn't die.

Which is a surprise. A pleasant surprise, but a surprise nonetheless.

And Javier realizes that, yeah, he's been kinda an ass to you and he should probably ease up on completely ignoring you until he's barking orders in your direction. Because if you're going to have a breakdown it might as well be because of Pablo Escobar and not a grouchy DEA agent that has had really no plausible cause to treat you like shit.

But apologizing isn't really his thing so he opted to just ignore the fact that he's been an asshole towards you for the past four months and instead buys you a cup of coffee as some sort of olive branch gesture.

Which he quickly learns is a mistake. A big one, at that.

Because you really don't like him, which is warranted because he has really only been a dick to you. And you're smart enough to realize this. You know he has the decency to at least treat everyone else in the building with some level of fairness. His manners are decent, you've seen him open up doors for passing secretaries and thank them when they drop files off at his desktop. He's confident, but he's not a cocky asshole that treats other agents like they've got a total of two and a half brain cells.

But he doesn't treat you like everyone else, he treats you like you're no better than last week's trash, waiting impatiently for the garbage truck to come lift his burden and haul you out of his life.

So when you basically tell him to go fuck himself, he can't really be too all upset about it. Because, as usual, he deserves every word of it.

So instead of getting all defensive and trying to explain himself like you thought he would, he stands silently from the other side of your desk for a few moments before nodding slowly, like he's actually processing and accepting your two-minute-long speech about how much of an asshole he is, and then he sets the cup of coffee on the edge of your desk and leaves.

He doesn't really make an attempt to interact with you after that, maybe because he's guilty about the whole situation or maybe because it's just not worth it.

You hate him, so why try to cross an already burned bridge?

So instead, he just continues on with life — chases Escobar, bickers with Steve, fucks informants, smokes a pack of cigarettes a day, and drinks a little more whiskey than he probably should. Though he does make the effort to begin treating you like everyone else, which may not mean that he's all sunshine and rainbows towards you, but he's fair. He's equal, and you appreciate it more than he realizes.

It takes a little over a month, an entire bottle of wine, and some deep contemplating before you finally decide that if Javier can treat you fairly, you can do the same. No more ignoring him when he walks into the room, no more only meeting his gaze when your eyes are narrowed into a glare, no more uttering out one-word responses to his questions. Just treat him like you treat everyone else.

Which you soon realize is not as easy as it sounds. Because the morning after you release your five-month-old grudge and you politely thank Javier when he holds open the door to the office for you, the man nearly chokes on his coffee. He stands dumbstruck in the doorway for a few seconds too long, staring at the space you had stood even though you're already halfway down the hall.

Were you messing with him? He figures, yeah, you probably were.

And if he knew better, he would've just dropped it. He should've just shrugged and continued on his life because what you thought of him really didn't matter. You didn't matter, not to him at least.

And he most certainly shouldn't let some random rookie agent distract him when he's so close to taking down Escobar.

That's all you could possibly be to him, a distraction. You didn't matter, you shouldn't matter.

But that's the thing.

Javier Peña doesn't know better. And you do matter — even if he interprets it as just not wanting to see you on the side of the road dead. Because even if you're in a little over your head in Columbia, you're still fighting just as hard as any other agent in the field. And it most certainly doesn't help that you have a set of pretty legs and an even prettier set of eyes.

So Javier comes to a few conclusions while nursing a glass of whiskey. You don't hate him; you're not completely worthless; he shouldn't treat you like you're worthless; and damn, you have some nice legs.

So instead of treating you like he treats everybody else, he treats you like he treats everybody else and then some. Which is a little bit of a step backward because you instantly notice that now he's being friendly, but you try your best not to react to his shift in behavior because it's always going to be better than him being an ass to you.

But then he asks you out.

Well, not really.

He asks you if you want to go to the bar with him and Steve after work, which is strange because he's never expressed any interest in getting to know you before. But thankfully when you politely decline his invitation he takes your rejection gracefully and returns to his own office room.

But then no longer than ten minutes later Steve Murphy pops into your office, and you don't mind because Steve has been nice to you since the very beginning and you might actually consider the two of you friends. You might've even hung out with him in the past if it didn't consequently mean spending time with his asshole partner.

Well, former-asshole partner.

And you almost smile when you see Steve but then he starts pressing you to come hang out with him and Peña after work. Teases you about being a stick-in-the-mud and not having any friends in Columbia, and then about how both he and Javier really want you to come. And you're about to kick him out of your office when he adds that he will pay for all of your drinks — you're out of booze at home and today was no walk in the park. You crack, agreeing to go to some dingy bar with two of your co-workers as long as there will be free and endless drinks.

The night surprisingly goes well. You're pleasantly buzzed but not drunk enough to share some embarrassing secrets that sober you would regret in the morning. You sit next to Steve in a booth, across the tabletop from Javier, which isn't exactly ideal because you realize the more you drink, the more you stare. But then again, you figure it was better than sitting next to him on the cramped bench.

They ask you a lot of questions, which is weird because you've grown so used to not talking about yourself after spending now six months in Columbia without making a friend besides Steve.

Does Javier count as a friend?

You decide that no, he doesn't. You're just co-workers going out for drinks. He probably didn't even want you to come, Steve probably made him ask you first because he knows that there's some sort of turmoil between the two of you.

But regardless of who wanted you here and who didn't really care, you had a good time. And it soon became part of your weekly routine, working hard from nine to at least six and then going out for drinks with Steve and Javier. And it takes a few outings but you finally decide that your friend's list could double into two by adding Javier.

But then one night Steve brings Connie along and somehow that changes everything. Because it's no longer three work friends drinking together to forget the troubles of the workday. Now it's a married couple and two single idiots sitting side-by-side in a cramped booth. And it no longer felt like going out to a bar for drinks, now it felt like an awkward double-date.

And if Javier didn't feel the same tension that had your muscles rigid and your grasp around the amber beer bottle tight, he certainly did when Connie gestured between the two of you.

"So how long have you two been together?"

Steve chokes on his beer, droplets dribbling down his chin and Connie jumps at his reaction, you and Javier both frozen like deer in headlights.

You try to save the evening, you really do. "We're, uh— we're just— not together..."

Connie quirks a confused brow. We're just not together?

Javier's brain seems to start working a few seconds too late.

"We're not together," he clarifies, his voice sounding surprisingly impassive despite his strained posture.

You pray that the bar is too dim for Connie and Steve to see how mortified you were, and thank god Javier was too busy staring off into the distance and nursing his beer to crane his neck to look at you. Though you weren't totally saved because both Steve and somehow Connie could see how fucking humiliated you are, but they spare you the mercy to not say anything or, heaven forbid, stare.

And thanks to Steve's small talk and Javier's decision to leave the booth to go hit on some brunette making eyes at him from the bar, the night resumes as normally as it could've gone. Steve and Connie leave together, Javier leaves with the brunette, and you leave with a headache because you had a little too much to drink.

The next few days are off. Steve apologizes in private for any discomfort that Connie's comment caused you, even though you assure him that it's fine because it's really no big deal.

And you believe it because it was just a simple mistake and Javier didn't seem to care, which consequently means that you don't care.

But that's where you're wrong, about both statements actually. Because firstly, Javier did care — he cared a whole lot, actually. And secondly, Connie had only said something because Steve had been telling her how he thinks the two of you are going to get together for months now. And when Javier and you sat beside one another and talked together with such ease and chemistry, Connie had assumed that the two of you had finally gotten together and that it was a double-date.

But none of that mattered now because Javier wasn't talking to you. He was giving you the classic cold shoulder treatment like you had done something wrong. Reverting back to his old ways of treating you like a piece of shit because Connie had made a mistake. Could you possibly negotiate him redirecting his disdain and resentment towards her? Probably not.

And after an entire three months of being treated like absolute garbage, the tension between you snapped, like a tautly drawn back bowstring just before the release of an arrow.

You followed him out of the building when he got up to leave, the two of you being the only agents left in the office. When you called out his name just before he unlocked his car door, his head dropped back as a frustrated groan heaved from his chest.

That only pissed you off a lot.

"What the fuck's your problem, Peña?" You snarl, marching up to him, eyes narrowed into a threatening glare. You're not entirely sure what possessed you, but the next thing you know you're so close to him that you can feel his controlled breaths fanning against your face as he stares down at you with an expression of indifference — staring down at you like you're not even fucking there.

"Go home," he drawls out dismissively through an exhausted sigh, the keys in his hands jingling as he turns unlocks his car door. "We've got a long day tomorrow."

"Oh, fuck off," you snap, your fury raising in your stomach like a swelling ocean, growing and building itself up until it crashes down on your trembling form.

He shifts, the keys in his hands forgotten as he slowly turns on his heels to face you. "What's your problem?"

Your jaw drops, because he has the audacity to ask you what your problem is? No, he's out of his fucking mind.

"No, what's your problem?" You retort, jabbing your finger into the firm muscles below his shoulder as you gradually lose more and more of your self-control. "You've been treating me like a piece of shit for the past three fucking months. What the hell did I do to you? I thought we were friends but now you act like you want nothing to do with me."

Your words are harsh, tone hardened, and confused. Javier can hear it in your voice and it makes his heart ache, but as soon as you touch him — index finger pressing against chest — his resolve shatters.

"Don't touch me," he utters lowly, his once impassive expression morphing into a darker glare.

You shove him, which is a little disappointing because he doesn't fucking move. Doesn't even stumble back half a step, your actions only hardening his glare. "No, you don't get to fucking ignore me. You don't get to treat me like garbage. And I'm not gonna stop until you tell me why you hate me so fucking much."

"Jesus," he scoffs, his head dipping back as he takes a step back and eyes flitting to the sky like you're some ridiculous, immature child that he can't wait to get rid of. There's a pause, his chest heaving up and down. His hands are on his hips as his eyes avoid your stare, he doesn't want to escalate the situation further. He doesn't need to make an even bigger scene. He doesn't need to create yet another memory that plays on his head in a loop, distracting him every minute of the day. This is the last thing he needs.

After a moment he sighs, dropping his head and breathes for a moment. And as you see his hostile composure shift, you feel the storm of rage that you're drowning in lessen.

"I don't hate you," he answers lowly, his eyes still settled on somewhere other than your face. "Just... just don't take it personally."

You shake your head, your voice just as angry but quieter. "No. Not taking it personally was when you didn't talk to me for my first four months in Columbia because you thought I was just some dumb rookie."

"Look..." He's drained, weakened, and has little fight in him left. And he can see how you're trying to stop yourself from crying, he can hear your throat straining from holding back a sob that's painful trying to rack through your chest. He can see how much pain he's caused you, and he knows that you deserve none of it. "We should just... stop."

Your eyebrows raises. "What?" It's merely a whisper, the malice in your tone melting away as a wave of confusion crashes down on you.

Javier ignores the pang of hurt that sears through his heart at the sound of your voice. "We— we shouldn't... it's better if we're not friends."

You swallow thickly, your tongue heavy in your mouth. "What do you mean?" You ask, unsure of yourself.

"Just..." he tries, his hand running over his exasperated features as he struggles to string a sentence together. His mind is blank, any words rising in his brain not seeming right and leaving him scrambling for a single coherent thought. It's embarrassing being speechless when you're staring up at him with wide, glistening eyes. He's never rendered speechless, nobody has ever made him feel so helpless. He isn't sure when his smooth composure cracked, words came so naturally to him. He could charm the shoes off of anyone else.

Fuck, when did it become so hard to speak?

Probably when he realized you weren't like everybody else.

He forces himself to speak because if he's quiet any longer he's scared you're going to give up on him and leave, even though that's what he should be wanting. He should be hoping that you just learn to distance yourself from him, even if it ruins him. And he has a feeling that if you tear yourself away from him it'll ruin you too, but only for a little while. You'll move on, heal over time no matter how much it hurts now, you'll learn to be okay without him.

Or maybe you won't, you may never get the chance to learn to live without Javier Peña. Maybe the cruel universe would consider it an act of mercy to kill you before you ever got the chance. Maybe you'll get gunned down by one of Escobar's men or die in a car crash on your way home from work. Or maybe Javier will finally slip up and get himself killed. He's not exactly sure what will happen to either of you, but he knows it's bound to happen.

With this job, it's not a matter of if, it's a matter of when.

Fuck.

Speak, you fucking idiot.

His feet shift against the blacktop, gravel crunching beneath the soles of his boots. His hands are still firmly placed on his hips, his eyes finally tearing away from the streetlight shining in the distance to look at you.

His gut clenches, chest tightening. "It'll be easier if you hate me."

Oh.

You don't need to ask what exactly would be easier if you hated him. You know the fears that plague every DEA agent's mind. You live your life in the line of fire, the closer people get to you, the more likely they're going to get shot.

But something breaks inside of you, shatters into a million pieces. A part of you that cannot be repaired, no matter the amount of tape or glue.

You slowly drag a breath of air into your lungs, trying the shake the heavy feeling that was going to suffocate you as you stare into his eyes. And you know your bottom lip is quivering and tears are threatening to spill from your eyes.

"But I don't hate you."

And I don't think I ever could.

Your words crack through a broken whisper, and you almost cry at the confession because it just hurts so damn bad.

Javier darts his gaze away from you, knowing that if you start crying he's going to break.

"Then you need to stay away from me," he replies, his voice low but firm. He keeps telling himself that he's not going to lose this argument, he's not going to be selfish and ruin you both for good.

"Why?" You inquire, stepping forward. His eyes flit over at your sudden movement, watching you cautiously as you invade his space one more. "I don't see you pushing Murphy away."

Javier huffs out a soft scoff. Maybe he would've even chuckled at your comment if he was able to breathe. "You know you're not Murphy."

Well, no shit, you're not Murphy. You're not some six foot two blond from Tennessee with a wife and kid.

"What does that even mean?" You sigh, your eyes squinting from a mixture of exhaustion and confusion.

Javier faintly shakes his head, almost disapprovingly. "Don't do that. Don't act like you don't know you're different."

Threads of your patience snap, and you force yourself to not let your calm composure to crack and crumble under the flames smoldering in your chest.

"Why do I have to be different?" you reply sharply, though Javier can hear that your anger is more directed towards the situation than at him.

Because I'm not in love with Murphy.

Fuck, shut up, Peña.

"You just are," he answers eventually, maybe an eternity later.

Well, that's not fair.

"Why?" You muse quietly, and Javier's brain short-circuits. Because have you always been standing so close to him? He can fucking smell you from a here — some floral perfume that makes his head spin and his knees buckle, though he can't help himself from wanting to bury his head in the crook of your neck and breathe you in.

He has to crane his neck to look down at you, and his pulse quickens once he realizes that all he has to do is lean slightly forward on his toes and he'd be kissing you. Your eyes are no longer clouded with tears and the anger in your voice has melted. Your calm, which is new, but it doesn't make it any easier to look at you. Because you're gazing up at him with eyes that reflect the night sky and he thinks he's about to pass out.

And it takes him a moment to remember that you've asked him a question.

Why? Why are you different?

Why does he distance himself from your soft touch? Why does he avoid your curious stare? Why does he have the urge to leave the room whenever you enter it? Why does he only offer you half-assed responses and quips? Why does he refuse to look at your even though all he ever thinks about is your sweet face? Why does he let himself fuck whores when he keeps letting your name slip from his lips? Why does he allow his gaze to linger and trace every outline of your face after you've turned away? Why does he wake up glistening with sweat and a painful ache between his legs because he fell asleep thinking about you?

Fuck. He wants to kiss you right now.

Why does he want to kiss you right now?

"Javier?" You breathe out, still waiting for him to speak even though you are starting to understand his silent answer.

Javier doesn't remember hearing his name softly drip slip from your lips in a whisper. He doesn't remember his hand shaking as he lifts it to cradle your cheek. He doesn't remember the calloused pad of his thumb brushing against your cheekbone as you softly shudder beneath his touch. He doesn't remember gazing into your eyes like he's looking up into the summer night sky, stargazing. He doesn't remember the shaky breath the leaves your lips as his thumb drags lower to graze your plush bottom lip. He most certainly doesn't remember leaning forward on his feet and capturing your lips with his.

His lungs constrict and he's kissing you — desperately, touches drowning in need as the taste of you floods his senses.

But fuck, you're kissing him back. And your tongue is pressing into his mouth, practically purring as your hands rake through his hair.

And you're not entirely sure how the conversation ended with you kissing Javier Peña like you were trying to devour him whole, but he doesn't seem to be complaining as he picks you up with a small grunt and lays you down on the backseat of his car without breaking away from you once.

He's breathing is frantic, grabbing at your blouse and tugging it off of you before your arms are even extended above your head. Your lips part from his with a loud smack and you whine out in pure want, squirming as his mustache tickles the swell of your breasts as his head dips down and sucks a purple mark into the plush flesh that spills from the bra cups. Your stomach is churning with lust and desire as the thought of him burns into your memory like a hot iron searing through flesh.

"Hermosa," he calls out through a heavy breath that ghosts against your collar, his sinful hands groping your chest draws out airy moans. His cock is hard and leaking, the arousal the settled in his belly is burning through him like a wildfire.

Fuck, you're touching him and it's shaking his mind to shambles. Your hand rests on the nape of his neck as he pulls your bra down to run his hot tongue over your taut nipples, your other hand weaving through his dark hair and tugging.

"Javier," you keen, your back arching off the leather seat as something inside your bursts. You rock your hips forward, desperate to reveal the tension that had coiled in your stomach. "I need... I need—"

"I know," he grunts because he needs the exact same things. He's panting, quivering, shuddering out broken breaths between kisses as he hovers over your trembling body. "Fuck, baby. I know."

Then it's like his mind goes on autopilot, acting on pure instinct as he fumbles to unclasp his belt and yank the front of his jeans down far enough so that he can take his weeping cock out of its confinements. His hands then find their way to your pants, hesitating to make sure you still want him but you're one step ahead, already pushing your pants and panties down in one harsh movement.

But as soon as he looks down at your naked lower half, his daze is snapped in half like a twig and his mind spirals out of control as he realizes that he needs you right fucking now. And you're no better, tears prickling your eyes as you beg him to fuck you in the back of his Jeep.

And even though he craves to taste your wetness on his tongue, he thinks he's going to die if he doesn't fuck you this very instant. He can't stop himself from lining his cock up with your entrance and applying the slightest bit of pressure, relishing in the needy moan that echoes throughout the cab of his car that makes pre-cum drip down the base of his cock.

"Javier." You're chanting his name like a prayer, like he's your sweet salvation. Your hands squeeze his shoulders as your head lols back before one drops to find his, lacing your fingers together to anchor yourself. He's hovering about you, one quivering arm propping his body up while the other is holding yours — he thinks he's about to explode.

"Please fuck me."

Then he's spreading you open, pushing inside of you with one slow and deliberate stroke. You squeak at the tightness, the full feeling that stretches your walls and makes you shudder. Javier's head drops to the crook of your neck and presses a chaste kiss to the pulsating skin, pausing momentarily so that you both can catch your breath.

And as you ask him to finally move, all coherent thoughts as ripped from his mind. All he knows is that he's thrusting into you like he's going to die if he stops. You're going to kill him.

I'll die if you stop. You don't know if you actually said it aloud or if it was only an echo of a thought in your ruined mind.

Neither of you last long, which isn't much of a surprise at the state you're in. Though Javier feels weird because he has some weird sexual reputation and he nearly came in his pants when he was only kissing you. And he wanted to draw it all out because he's secretly scared that you'll never talk to him again after this, even though that's what he originally wanted. But now that he's finally gotten a taste of your lips, he's drunk off your touch and addicted to it. He doesn't want you to leave and pretend that none of this ever happened. He doesn't even know if you like him in the same way he likes you—

No, fuck, he loves you. He loves you and doesn't even know if you like him enough to allow him to take you on a proper date.

So when he asks you if you want to get drinks with him on Friday, skin sticky with sweat and chest sill heaving as he helps you dress, he's surprised when you agree with a coy smile. And he huffs out a small laugh when you teasingly ask if you should expect Steve to tag along or if it's a legitimate date.

And honestly, the following months are a blur — filled with wandering hands, lingering shared gazes, and hot kisses. He can't control himself after the torturous ten long months he spent waiting, ten months of longing and yearning for your touch while he pushed you away.

All that matters now is that you're fast asleep in his arms on a rainy Tuesday morning. Your cheek is squished against his bare chest and he knows that the dark hairs that litter his torso are probably tickling your nose, but you don't stir once your arm is lazily draped over his middle.

And he can't help the dopey smile that tugs at his lips when you nuzzle even closer, still stuck on the thought that you somehow managed to fall in love with him.

"You're warm," you mumble mindlessly, voice heavy with sleep.

Oh, you are awake.

"Have to get up soon," he replies, though his words don't seem fitting as he tightens his hold around your waist and drags you up his torso so that he can tuck your head beneath his chin.

And for a split second, Javier thinks that you've fallen back asleep because he's learned the hard way that you are by no means a morning person. Your heartbeat his soft against his chest and your breathing pattern returns to a slow and silent pace.

"Call in sick," you suddenly murmur as you squirm a bit before stilling.

Javier breathes out a soft chuckle, his breath ghosting over the top of your head. "We can't both call in sick," he refutes lightly, even though the offer is very tempting.

"Fine," you utter before tilting your head up to look at him with dreamy eyes. And as your eyes land on him, Javier remembers just how beautiful you are and how much he really wants to stay in bed with you. "Then you call in sick, I'll play hooky."

A dangerous game, it's hard to keep a secret relationship a secret when there's a pattern of both parties missing work on the same days.

Though, apparently, the game is all too tempting. Because as soon as you lean up to press a gentle kiss in the crook of Javier's neck, he finds himself reaching for his phone.

"Wanna make me breakfast?" You eventually ask through a coy grin, peering up at him through your thick lashes as he ends the call.

He rolls his eyes, a playful gesture that you don't take seriously in the slightest. "You're ridiculous," he answers grumpily even though you both know he's going to cave and make his specialty of coffee and eggs.

"But you love me anyway," you reply smugly, pushing yourself up on your elbow to peck a chaste kiss to his lips. Javier's hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss. You can't stop the moan that slips from you breathlessly as his tongue parts your pursed lips.

It's safe to say that neither of you gets out of bed for another hour.

----

tags (let me know if you want to be added): @yespolkadotkitty​

[ithinkwehitametaphor]

unmarried!Steve Murphy (Narcos) x female Reader

The Sandwich Chronicles - Bliss - Part 5 of ? (nsfw)

Steve is wrapped around you protectively and his breath tickles your neck. You press back against him, reveling in the warmth of his body. It’s early morning, the sun is already peeking through the blinds and you woke up before the alarm clock had a chance to mess with the perfect bliss of your current situation.

A peck on your bare shoulder tells you that Steve is awake, as well. “Mornin’ sweetheart,” he mumbles sleepily into your ear.

You wiggle a bit in his arms until you are able to turn around and face him. “Mornin’ agent Murphy.”

Steve smiles at you. It’s completely disarming and whatever quip might have been on the tip of your tongue is immediately dispelled. Instead, you lean in and kiss him on the lips.

He hums against you in reply, fingers trailing the expanse of your back. “Waking up next to you is the best thing in the world.”

“Oh and last night wasn’t?” you say with a mock pout, trying to stifle a chuckle.

“Last night,” Steve says, “was definitely out of this world.”

Heat flushes your face and you bury your head in the crevice of his neck. “Steeeeeve…”

“What? It’s true.” He has caught you in one of that bear hugs of his and holds you close.

“Steve…” your voice is muffled against him. Probably you shouldn’t ask this now but you need to know. “Last night. Last night was not just… friends with benefits, was it?”

And all of a sudden you feel terribly cold despite the heat of Steve’s breath on your skin. It’s as if the past has finally found a crack in your armor that’s big enough to seep through. Shit.

“What!? No. No! It wasn’t.” Steve sounds taken aback. He peppers your brow with kisses. “No, sweetheart. I want to be with you. For real. If that’s what you want, too.”

You take a deep breath and nod. “Yes. Yes, that’s what I want. It’s… I’m sorry I asked it’s just… I couldn’t do that sort of thing again. Not. Again.”

“I know, I know.” Steve gently pets your hair. “I mean, I don’t know the details but Javi… Well, Javi said if he ever found out I’m playing you, he’d come and shoot my dick off. So I gathered that I better be serious about this.”

“Javi really cannot keep a secret, eh?” You kiss Steve’s chest, his neck, drag your lips along his stubbled jawline.

He groans softly. “How could I not want this every day of the week? How could I not want to wake up with you every morning? Told you, you’re my favorite person in the world.”

Steve pauses for a moment. “Hey. You want to know a secret?”

“Is it a nice secret?” you ask. Your eyes scrutinize his face.

“I think so. I mean. It’s a bit silly and a bit embarrassing.”

“Okay, spill it. My interest is piqued.”

He nods. “Right. You know that photo Martínez took of the two of us. During coffee break a few months ago?”

Whoops. “Mhm.”

“So I might have taken that to the States to…look at it? I might have had it handy in my nightstand in case I missed you too much.”

“Steve…” Maybe it’s best you tell him now that you know about the photo.

But he shakes his head. “No wait! That’s not all. There is more.” Steve takes a deep breath and exhales noisily. “I went out with my new coworkers a few times. You know, go have a drink and relax, get to know each other. So two weeks into the whole thing I ended up leaving the bar and this agent, she’s a real cute one, she asked me to come home with her. No strings attached. And I said no. Apparently, I rather go back to my crappy hotel room alone than to go with her.”

You nestle closer and kiss Steve’s jaw again.

“So I lay in bed alone and I wondered how I could be so dumb. A really beautiful woman just offered me sex. And all it did was to give me a weird, uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach. Like I had been caught red-handed at some sort of betrayal. Like I’d done something wrong because she asked me that. I looked at the photo of us and it felt as if I had let you down.”

“You’re a dum-dum Steve Murphy,” you whisper against his neck.

“Tell me something I don’t know yet…” he mumbles.

“You’re my dum dum. You’re also the sweetest guy I know.”

Steve chuckles. “It gets worse. I got the picture framed the next day and put it on my desk for everyone to see. Guess that’s when I decided I needed to see you as soon as I came back to Bogotá.”

“Listen. I have to confess something…”

“Is it about how you snatched my shirt from work and wore it while I was away?”

You purse your lips. “No. And I didn’t snatch anything from anywhere. I kept your shirt safe while you were gone.”

“Duly noted.”

“When I went in the garage to get you some clothes yesterday morning? I found the photo in your luggage.”

Steve groans. “God, of course you did.”

“I didn’t mean to pry and I was too afraid to ask you about it because I didn’t want to ruin anything. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I guess you must’ve thought I lost it. Creepy Steve hiding pictures of you in his underwear. Jesus…” He buries his face in the crevice of your neck.

“To be fair. We’re both in the photo. It’s not like you took a secret snapshot of me. So it’s a lot less creepy.” You laugh and nudge his shoulder. “I thought it was cute. Romantic really. At least I hoped so.”

Steve places a kiss on your cheek. “I missed you so much. I was bound to do something a little stupid, I suppose.”

“Mhmmm. Say, agent Murphy…” You gasp lightly as he continues to deck you in affection. “Should we get in the shower? Speed things up a little?”

“Absolutely. Although I don’t see how that will save us time…”

. .

It doesn’t.

Warm water cascades down from the shower head above and Steve runs his hands over your shoulders, your breasts and along your sides. His fingertips graze your nipples and you gasp.

As you move closer, he cups your ass to give it a firm squeeze.

“Steve…” you whine into his mouth and are rewarded with his tongue seeking out yours.

There’s soap all over the two of you but you’ve clearly thrown the idea of just washing each other overboard.

When you feel Steve’s hard cock against your wet body, all you can think about is how good last night felt, how much you want him again.

A few moments more of heated kissing and Steve spins you around in his arms, presses your front up against the wall. The tiles are cold on your skin at first but soon enough warm hands cup your breasts.

“I need you,” he whispers into your ear from behind, teeth grazing your earlobe.

All you can bring out in reply is a groaned “Fuck me…” as you push back against his groin to make your point.

And Steve is happy to comply. He uses one hand to position himself against your entrance and slowly pushes his entire length deep inside you. It’s easy going, too, because you’re wet for him already.

“Yes… Fuck…” The sensation is so overwhelming, your knees shake but Steve wraps an arm around you to help you with balance.

“You feel so good,” he moans and picks up a pace. His cock slides in and out of your pussy, slow, deliberately, at first while warm water rains down on both of you. It’s perfect and you let him know by the shameless noises of pleasure that tumble over your lips almost incessantly now.

“Harder,” you beg after a while, feeling the heat built up inside of you. “Fuck me harder.”

Steve groans, drives his cock inside you faster. His lips find your neck, and he bites you gently, his teeth scrape over your skin and leave red marks.

“Come for me, baby,” he urges you on with each new thrust of the hips.

“Touch me,” you whine. “Please…”

One arm still steadies you but Steve’s free hand slips from your breast down between your legs. Fore and middle finger find your clit and start to draw little circles.

Shit. He knows exactly what to do.

Just a few more strokes of Steve’s cock, a bit more pressure of his fingers on all the right spots and you climax hard, your whole body shivering with pleasure.

If it weren’t for Steve, your knees would give out but even as he comes inside you, moaning shamelessly, he manages to keep the two of you afloat.

“You okay sweetheart?” he mumbles. “Give me a sign when I can let go, yes?”

You nod, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. Why is he so goddamn sweet? “Yes. Yes, I’m fine. Just a moment…”

Leaning back against him, you take a deep breath. “Fuck, that was amazing.” Oh, did you say that out loud?

“You are amazing,” Steve whispers in your ear. He’s still holding you in his arms.

“I wish we could just stay like this,” you say wistfully. “But I think we need to clean up otherwise we’ll be late for work.”

There’s a soft chuckle in reply. “I’ll just have to come back tonight, I guess, to go on where we left off.”

You turn around, smiling, and kiss Steve’s nose. “I’ll take your word for it, agent Murphy.”

——

[Part 1]

[Part 2]

[Part 3]

[Part 4]

[Part 6]

[Narcos Writing Masterlist]

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taglist: @cheesybadgers @ionlyjoinedforboydholbrook @buckstaposition @justanotherblonde23 @chellestrash @cherryfun-k​

[letaliabane]

To Be With You

anon request: You are Javi’s partner and have feelings for him, but he doesn’t seem to have feelings for you. One day, a CIA agent that you work with sometimes, and know a little but not well, asks you out for drinks after work. Javi overhears, and is jealous and also worried because he has heard that the guy is a creep. Javi follows you to the bar to ensure you are safe, and sees the guy slip something in your drink. Javi saves you and is so scared that the confesses his feelings.

warnings: drugs, small moment of violence

next: To Protect You | To Love You

Your stomach grumbled loudly as you read through the new intel that had arrived on your desk that morning. 

Javier couldn’t help but chuckle from across the office, glancing towards you, ‘You a bit hungry over there, Y/N?’

‘Piss off Javi, you know I am,’ You muttered without looking up at him. Javier and Steve chuckled, the blond nodding back towards you. 

‘She’s probably looking over those notes that CIA agent keeps leaving her. David wasn’t it, Y/N?’

‘Oye, vete a la mierda!’ You flipped off Steve who smirked, giving you a friendly wink. You didn’t notice how Javier had fallen silent at the mention of the agent as you threw a scrunched ball of paper at your partners head. 

You had been partners with Javier and Steve for a while now. And though at first he hated the idea of “babysitting” two gringos, Javier warmed up to you quite quickly, making you very good friends. 

The way you both talked to each other made people think you hated one another, but you both knew it was just friendly banter. 

There were moments, however, where you thought there was something more. More often that not, when it was just the two of you, you saw the softer side of Javier. 

Knowing you were an early bird he would bring you a coffee and sandwich when he would arrive at the embassy. He’d refuse to let you walk after dark and give you a lift back to the apartments. And after a raid or even just a stressful, long day at the embassy, he’d sit with you on your couch, sometimes making small talk, sometimes holding you close in silence. 

You were grateful he didn’t just look at you like he would at the other female agents and informants he would visit on occasion. But you couldn’t help but wander if he felt something more, just like you did. 

It was no secret, to Steve at least, how you cared for Javier. However you were afraid he just saw you as nothing but a colleague. 

‘You mean that creep?’ 

'Oh he’s not that bad Javi!’ Steve exclaimed, ‘He’s just got a crush on her! You’ve gotta remember when you were also into a girl and wanting her attention.’ 

‘I think I know better ways to convince a girl I like her than stupid little notes.’ 

You and Steve looked towards one another before bursting out laughing, Javier just rolling his eyes as he got to his feet.

‘Lunch break?’ He suggested, and you and Steve instantly pushed aside the large files, grabbing your wallets without a moments hesitation. 

The three of you were just on your way out that you noticed David hovering around the common area, smiling widely at the sight of you. 

‘Go on, I’ll catch up with you guys,’ You say to your partners before making your way to David. He was quite handsome, brown hair slicked back with baby blue eyes. A true heartbreaker look. 

‘Hey Y/N! Glad I could catch you. I’m not stopping you from anything right?’

‘No no-well I’m just about to head out for lunch with Javi and Murphy.’ 

He chuckled, casting a glance towards the retreating figures of your partners before stepping closer, ‘I won’t keep you too long then, I was wondering if you’d like to grab a couple of drinks with me after work?’

You looked up from your purse, eyes widening. You knew, and frankly everyone in the office knew, that David was keen on you for months now, but not to the point of him actually asking you out. 

‘Oh, just us two?’ 

‘Just the two of us, it’ll be a good time, I promise.’ 

For a moment, you hesitated. You hadn’t really spoken to David a lot due to the fact he was part of the CIA faction. It wasn’t just that that made you hesitate though. 

It was the thought of a certain dark haired, brown eyed handsome partner of yours. But you couldn’t sit around for Javier when you didn’t even have the courage to tell him your feelings, why not take a chance with David?

‘Yes, I think it will too, meet after work?’ You said with a smile, his own widening instantly. 

‘Sounds perfect!’ 

You pulled away into the corridor to find Javier leaning against the wall, arms crossed as he tapped his foot against the carpeted floor. He looked up when you shook your head towards him, ‘I told you to go ahead with Murphy.’

‘And I waited anyway,’ he said with a smile, habitually pressing a hand to your back, and as he guided you towards the entrance, ignoring the chills that ran down your spine. 

As promised, David met you at the end of the day and drove further into the city of Medellín to a small club. It wasn’t as packed as it probably was on a weekend, but there was still quite a big crowd for an average weekday. 

You sat yourselves at the bar, David waving over the bartender almost immediately for a beer and you ordering a gin and whiskey for yourself. 

It wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Sure, he talked about himself and how much progress he and his team were making on the Escobar case, but he did at times have the sense to ask you some questions too. 

Suddenly a loud crash echoed throughout the club, you instinctively reaching for the gun in your purse, however sighing at the sight of a retreating group of young girls shepherding what you presumed to be a good friend who was stumbling and giggling loudly. 

You couldn’t help but smile. It reminded you of your very dear friendship with Connie and how many a time either Steve or Javier, or even both, had to lead you out of a bar after one too many. 

The very thought of the DEA agent made you sigh. In all honesty, you wished that it had been Javier sitting beside you instead of David, wanting to hear the soothing baritone of his voice—

‘Y/N?’ 

Blinking rapidly, you looked back quickly towards David who shook his head, ‘Where the hell were you? You were gone just then!’ 

You just gave him a small smile, shrugging, ‘Just lost in thought, that’s all.’

Just when you reached for your drink once more, you jumped as a hand pressed against the small of your back, the familiar scent of cigarettes and cologne surrounding you. 

‘Please don’t drink that Y/N.’

You turned to look up at Javier who stood beside you, donning his leather jacket, hair a mess, but his usual relatively relaxed features were tense, eyebrows furrowed and lips drawn in a thin line. 

David chuckled, opening his arms in a welcoming manner with a smile. ‘Javier! Didn’t expect to see you around these parts! How are you?’

‘Oh I’m not usually around here David. But luckily I overheard your plans for drinks and decided to look out for her. Because it looks like you hoped to get Y/N here alone, get her drunk, or as I saw, drug her.’

You looked to David in horror as he continued to smile, shaking his head, ‘What the fuck are you old man? Are you jealous someone is interested in your partner? Why don’t you run along and find one of your sluts to give you some attention.’ 

You felt your anger boil within you, but while he was busy being a dick head, you glanced towards your glass. You gulped heavily, gripping the bar. After all these years, you’d recognise the white dust that dotted the rim anywhere.

‘Were done here,’ You muttered, not even bothering to look at him as you picked up your purse, grabbing Javier’s hand, ‘Come on let’s go.’

Just when you brushed past him, you gasped as David snatched your wrist, his grip hard and painful, raising his voice, ‘What? Got tired of me and now running to the old man?! Going back to be his puta?!’

Before you could react, Javier punched him across the jaw, sending him face first int the bar. The music screeched to a halt as many of the patrons screamed at the sight of the blood that painted his face. 

You gripped Javier’s arm, whispering into his ear gently, ‘Please just leave him, let’s go!’

The desperation in your voice made the anger evaporate from him, wrapping his arm around your waist and leading you through the crowd that had gathered, glaring towards those who stared at you. 

You gasped as the fresh air hit you, leaning against the wall just outside of the club. The reality of the situation fell upon you in that moment. 

Javier was right, what would’ve happened if he had turned up? Would David had just left you there? Set you up for failure at the embassy? Or worse … raped you?

You flinched at Javier’s sudden touch to your shoulder, instantly regretting it as the hurt flashed across his face. 

‘I-I’m sorry—I just—’ A sob fell from your lips, the tears spilling suddenly down your cheeks.

Carefully and without hesitation, Javier embraced you, pressing you close to his chest. You clung to him, tears wetting his jacket but didn’t care, running his fingertips through your hair quietly. 

‘It’s okay,’ He whispered softly against your temple, pressing a kiss there, ‘I have you, your safe.‘

You raised your head from his shoulder, barely making eye contact with him as you whispered, ‘Please take me home.’

You had been silent on the ride back to your apartment, and Javier was completely understanding. He guided you inside your home, taking your jacket and purse from you. While he put your things in their place you collapsed against the couch. 

You heard Javier rummaging through the fridge, probably grabbing a bear. You didn’t mind though, it literally was his home at times. When he lowered himself beside you, it was then you saw the ice pack he was struggling to hold over the darkening bruises that swelled over his knuckles. 

‘Oh God-I’m so sorry,’ you muttered, taking the ice pack from him. 

‘Y/N you don’t have to.’ Javier’s voice wavered, as he watched you, but you shook your head, ‘I want to.’ 

When he nodded, you carefully held his hand while pressing the pack to his swollen skin, apologising softly whenever he hissed and flinched away from the piercing cold against the split skin.

As silence resumed between the both of you in that moment, you couldn’t help but hang your head and sigh, squeezing his hand gently. 

‘Thank you Javier for what you did, I really mean it. Without you I-I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t showed up and seen what he had done.’

You kept your eyes towards the ice pack, avoiding his watchful eyes, and he noticed it. He placed his hand over yours, his warmth seeping into your skin, stroking his thumb against your skin. He tilted his head to look at you, trying to catch your eye, ‘Of course, I didn’t want him to hurt you.’

Slowly, you glanced up towards him as he spoke, ‘In truth, I’ve been meaning to tell you this, but I’ve just chickened out of it. And trust me I know right now might not be the greatest timing but-’

‘Javier,’ You called him quietly, and he looked up at you again away from where he had been fiddling with your fingertips distractedly, ‘It’s okay, you can tell me.‘

He sighed heavily, closing his eyes briefly before he gripping your hand, ‘I-uh, I’ve realised that I have feelings towards you for awhile. I’ve wanted to be with you, protect you … to love you.’

Tears welled in your eyes as he pressed a hand to your cheek, leaning into his touch. He smiled, ‘I don’t wanna rush what we have. And if you’ll let me, in time, I’ll show you just how much I care for you.’

Without hesitation, you turned your head, pressing your lips to his palm, nodding. He didn’t even need to hear a verbal confirmation, and couldn’t help but smile as you nuzzled against his warmth. 

Just as you turned your eyes back towards him, you sighed as he pressed his lips to your cheek, giggling as his moustache tickling your cheek. Javier chuckled, pushing your hair out of your face. 

You both fall quiet as you take each other in, foreheads resting against one another. His dark brown eyes conveyed nothing but affection, and you couldn’t help but caress your nose against his, shutting your eyes in the calmness that settled over the both of you. 

Masterlist | Pedro Pascal Masterlist

Tagged: @pascalisthepunkest​

A/N: Working on two more parts for this, so keep an eye out! Feedback is always appreciated! 

Remember requests are still open for Pedro Pascal characters! Check it out and request whatever you like! I have this week free to write as much as I can so please get them in while you can! 

NOTE - Prompts are available for requests! Remember to include the prompt list and number, ESPECIALLY if it’s multiple lists

[downwiththeficness]

A Need So Great-Chapter 4

Summary: Eva Moore is assigned to work the last year of her contract with the DEA in Colombia. She just wants to get to the end of her tenure, but she keeps getting drawn further into a string of murders in the city. It isn’t long before she’s forced to face the ghosts of her past.

Word Count: ~3,700

Warnings: Canon typical Violence

A/N: For the purposes of this story, Carrillo isn’t married--or, if you like, divorced. A/B/O dynamics are prevalent, and they come with their own warning. The overall rating for this story is Explicit, although not every chapter will contain adult themes.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8.5, 9, 10, 10.5, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21

They’re sitting at the bar again. Rather, they are sitting at a table at the bar again.  It had been a hard day for almost everyone sitting there.  Javier, Steve, and Carrillo had managed to thwart a production route at the cost of three men. Connie had watched a young mother die in childbirth, the baby barely alive.  Eva had watched from the sidelines, feeling guilty that there wasn’t anything that she could do. So, she’d suggested a drink.  One drink had turned into two, then three.

At present, Connie was standing at the juke box, looking for a selection. Eva was watching her look through the offerings, wondering if she should switch to water so that she could drive home.

“I’m telling you,” Steve said, banging his hand on the table, a wide smile on his face, “He literally pissed himself when we busted in.  Tell him, Javi.”

Javier held up his hands, “I’m not in this argument, man.”

Rolling her eyes, Eva pointed a finger at Steve, “You’re telling me that some big bad--,” she looked at Carrillo, “What did he call them?”

“Sicario,” he prompted, bringing his glass to his mouth to hide the smirk.

“Thank you,” Eva said, waving her hand a little, “Peed himself because you put a gun on him.”

Steve leaned forward, “Yes, that is exactly what happened.”

“Bullshit!”

“I’m—hey, Connie, can you get us another round—I’m not lying!”

Eva shook her head, “No, nope. Didn’t happen like that. You got no witnesses to prove it.”

“Just because I don’t have a witness doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”

“You made the assertion, Murphy, you’ve got the burden of proof.”

“Fuck off.”

“You fuck off,” Eva shot back, “All you agents walk around like you’re hot fucking stuff because you got a badge and a gun and the support of the US government, tellin’ tall tales to make yourselves look like John Wayne. I swear to God, if I have to hear one more dick measuring contest on the break room I will literally puke.”

Connie came back to the table, a tray full of...not beer.  She set it down and Eva counted enough shots for each of them, a couple salt shakers, and some cut limes. Oh, shit.  

“We have to go to work tomorrow, Connie,” Eva censured gently, despite taking the glass from Connie’s outstretched hand.

Connie scoffed, “Like you’ve never had a hangover before.”

Eva noticed Carrillo hadn’t taken one of the glasses.  She leaned over, nudging him, “C’mon, you gotta do this, too.”  When he balked, she picked up one of the glasses and held it in front of him, “We’re all in this shit together, Horacio.”

He stared at her for a moment before pulling his lips between his teeth, a reflexive movement he sometimes did when he was thinking. She wiggled the glass, smiling when he relented. The salt shakers went around to everyone and Eva licked the back of her hand between her thumb and forefinger, tapping a bit out.

“What should we toast to?” Connie asked.

“We’re toasting?” Eva asked with a laugh, “I didn’t know you could toast over tequila shots.”

Connie leveled a baleful glare at her and Eva rolled her eyes, holding the glass towards the center of the table, “Its your toast, man.”

“To catching one of the bad guys,” Javier announced.

That was good enough for the group.  The glasses made a dull sound as they clinked them together. Eva licked the salt from her hand, threw back the shot, and stuck the lime in her mouth.  She hadn’t had tequila in a long while, but the movements were still buried in her muscle memory.  Salt, shot, lime. Glancing over, she caught Carrillo pulling the lime from his mouth, tongue catching juice that remained on his lips.  She dropped her gaze, feeling her neck heat an a way that had nothing to do with the alcohol. It was becoming more and more difficult to keep her eyes off him, let alone her hands.

To keep said hands busy, she threw the rind onto the tray with the empty glasses just as Connie shot up, both hands in the air.

“Another!”

Eva could feel her brows hit her hairline, “Steve, is she like this every time she drinks tequila?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” He lit a cigarette, a smirk appearing beneath his mustache.

She watched Connie head for the bar, “Is she gonna be okay?”

“Until she wakes up tomorrow,” he laughed.

“Cool, cool.”

The song on the juke box ended and ‘Careless Whisper’ queued up, the saxophone out of place and yet Eva couldn’t imagine that Connie would choose a different tune. She turned from the bar with a wide smile, shots completely forgotten.

“I love this song.  Stevie, come dance with me.”

And there they went, Connie dragging Steve to the dance floor which, surprisingly, had quite a few people on it.  Eva watched them go, laughing.  

“I can’t wait to tell her all about this later,” she said.

Javier snorted with contained laughter, “I should have brought a camera.  I’m getting another drink, you want anything.”

Eva and Carrillo both waved him off and he headed for the bar.  

“He’s right, we should have brought a camera,” Eva said as she gestured towards where Connie was spinning Steve, pulling him in for a dramatic dip.

“We can always get the security footage from the owner,” Carrillo suggested with half a smile.

She looked at him, not quite believing, “You think he’d give it to us?”

One of his brows lifted, “We’d have to pay him.”

“We could do that.” She thought about it for a minute, “Man, that would be comedy gold at the office Christmas party.”

Connie gave a little shimmy, hands on Steve’s shoulders as they swayed back and forth.  He was acting like he was annoyed by it, but Eva had been around him long enough to know that he was secretly enjoying every second of his wife happily dancing after a hard day’s work.

Leaning forward, Eva took up her discarded beer, eyes catching on the bar.  She leaned a little towards Horacio, gesturing with the bottle.

“Looks like Javier’s trying to close a deal.”

He was talking with a pretty girl with long, curly hair.  They were both smiling, she was touching his arm. Eva had heard some of his pick up lines, she wondered if he was actually using any of them. If so, he was sleeping alone tonight.

“He’s probably negotiating price.” When Eva looked to him in question, he shrugged, “She’s a sex worker.”

“No,” Eva gasped, looking the woman over to see how he could possibly know. “How can you tell?”

Horacio shrugged, “I see a lot of them in my line of work.”

“Oh?” Eva said with both brows raised.

He shot her a sarcastic look, “We arrest them from time to time.  Most of them are informants.”

“To you?”

He nodded.

“And you pay them?”

He made a noncommittal sound, but the little roll of his neck gave her all the confirmation she needed. She opened her mouth to say something and thought better of it, shutting her jaw with a click.

His eyes narrowed, “What was that?”

“Nothing,” Eva responded quickly, sipping to distract herself.

“No,” he held up a finger, moving into her space a bit, “You were going to say something and you stopped.  Why?”

She blinked, “It was an inside thought.”

His brows drew together in confusion. She felt her cheeks heat, embarrassed that she’d actually said ‘inside thought’ for the first time since she was a kid—a concept that her parents had taught her before she’d learned to filter out the sentences that should not be uttered.

“Ah,” she stalled a little bit, not quite believing that she was going to say this out loud, “An inside thought is when you think a thought that should absolutely not be said on the outside.  Like, ever.”

His head tilted to the side, “Tell me.”

“Oh, no,” she shook her head, “Absolutely not.  Were you listening? Its an inside thought, its supposed to stay inside.”

“How do you know its an inside thought?”

Eva hesitated, considering. She watched him figure out that he had an opening, his expression opening up just a little bit.

“Because people are usually insulted by inside thoughts,” she offered lamely.

“And you think I’ll be insulted by it? Or, Javi?”

She held her silence, pressing her lips together to keep from answering. He was a lot closer than was strictly necessary. Although the music was playing loudly, Eva felt herself zero in on him, focused on his every word and the shape of his mouth as he talked.

“So,” he continued, “We’ve established that you’ve had a thought that you don’t think is appropriate and you feel I would be insulted by it.”

Eva wondered if this was how people felt when he was interrogating them, somewhere between helplessly drawn in and desperate to change the subject.

She cocked her head to the side, “We’ve established nothing other than I had an inside thought and voice that they are typically insulting.”

“That’s a fine distinction,” he conceded turning a little in his chair to face her a bit more fully, “But, there’s only one way to really settle this. You have to tell me.”

Eva ran her thumb over her brow, dropping her eyes to the side and breathing deep, “I was going to say … that I was surprised you had to pay them.”

He paused, then, “Why is that?”

She was having a hard time breathing, but she couldn’t stop herself from saying, “Because, if it were me, I’d probably just tell you.”

Whatever he might have said after that was cut off by Connie sliding into her chair with a high pitched giggle. She was sweating a little, leaning hard into her husband with a wide smile. She looked happy.  Eva smiled at her, saluting with her beer.

“Nice moves, sweetie.”

“Ah, thank you! I bought, like, ten songs, so we’ll be getting back to it soon.”

As if on cue, the song changed and “We Built this City” started up. Eva shook her head, her attention snagging on Javier at the bar.  Another man had walked up and he was arguing with him, tongue rolling across the front of his teeth.  He looked pissed.

Carrillo noticed her attention straying and she felt him tense a little next to her. A few more guys had walked up.

“Aw, shit,” she said, already moving to stand as the fight broke out.

Glass shattered, and Eva circled around Carrillo to where Connie was sitting, pulling the woman with her over and down towards the bar.  She could hear voices screaming and the sound to flesh hitting flesh.  Without much care, she shoved Connie into the space between the bar and the wall, holding up a finger and leveling a determined look at her.

“You don’t move,” she said. “Not an inch.”

You say you don’t know me, or recognize my face.

A hand grabbed Eva’s ankle and she yelped as she was dragged out into the fray.  The man was average size and weight, but he had the jump on her.  He climbed over her body and had his hands around her throat before she could get her bearings.  Eva threw both hands out and into his shoulders, balancing his weight while she tucked her knees into her chest. Her hips shimmied and she was able to get her heels up. She kicked. Hard.

As hard and as fast as she could, Eva kicked him in the face until he let go of her neck.  And then, she grabbed his wrists to keep him there and kept kicking until there was so much blood that it looked like a mask of red had settled over him.  With a grunt, she shoved him to the side, wheezing and touching her neck gingerly.

Too many runaways eating up the night

Across the room, Javier was holding a guy down while Steve gave him a vicious kick.  Not far away Carrillo was dodging a punch, throwing a hard uppercut and catching the guy beneath the chin. His opponent’s head flew back with such force that Eva was kind of surprised that it was still connected.  He fell to the floor, unconscious.

Eva caught his eye and she gave a little wave, seeing his eyes flick to her right a little too late. A man wrapped both arms around her chest, caging her arms in.  Carrillo’s eyes narrowed and he was moving towards her. Eva yelled and swung both legs out in front of her to mid air.  The man struggled under the sudden weight of her body. Bend, snap, roll the shoulder. He fell over her arm to the floor, winded. She used the palm of her hand to hit at his exposed throat, satisfied when he choked.

And then he was right there with her, his scent sharp with the exertion, his hands carefully running over her arms to check for injury. Eva couldn’t help but to smile, a little dazed.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” she breathed, pushing the hair from her face. “Oh, fuck!”

One of the idiots had pulled a gun.  And, while she knew he was armed, Eva couldn’t stop the automatic response that kicked in.  She shoved Carrillo down behind an up ended table as the shots rang out. Curling over him, Eva covered her head, eyes squeezed shut.

We built this city, we built this city on rock and roll.

A few more shots and he was rolling her into the wood of the table, rising up on a knee and pulling his pistol. Eva plugged her fingers into her ears, feeling his body sway a bit with the recoil.

We just want to dance here. Someone stole the stage.

His hands slammed down on the floor as he ducked down. The table behind her scooted forward as a shot ricocheted into the far end, exposing him.

“Horacio,” she yelled, grabbing his polo shirt and pulling him back and into her chest.

The movement set him off balance and his full weight collapsed on her, pushing all the air out of her lungs. Another shot, another screech as the table moved.  Horacio pushed to his knees again, firing off another shot.  Eva looked around for something they could use that would be better cover. There was literally nothing.

Marconi played the mambo, listen to the radio.

And then she saw it, an unbroken bottle had rolled from somewhere in the bar, right next to a discarded bar towel.  Perfect.

“Cover me,” she yelled upwards, already crawling the few feet out to it.

Horacio cursed a blue streak, firing off a few rounds as she shuffled back to him, “The fuck are you doing?”

“Give me your lighter,” she demanded, opening the bottle and shoving the towel inside with two fingers.

To his credit, he hesitated only a fraction of a second before he was digging into the pocket of his khakis and handing her a silver Zippo.

“Thank you,” Eva said primly as she tipped the bottle over a bit to soak the towel.

We built this city. We built this city on rock and roll.

Getting to her knees, Eva looked at Horacio, who was eyeing both her and the bottle with a look a clear and unadulterated delight. She really, really liked when he smiled.

“Bottom’s up!”

And then she tossed it in the direction of the people shooting at them, smiling wide when it hit the mark. Fire burst forth, giving Javier and Steve enough of a distraction that they could get a clear shot.

Who rides the wrecking ball into our guitars?

Eva knelt on the floor, watching over the rim of the table as they went person by person, disarming the ones that were still alive. Eventually, Horacio stood up and she followed suit, moving to check on Connie.

She looked pissed, “I was having a good fucking time and these assholes…” She sighed deeply.

“I know,” Eva agreed, “Next time we do this at your place.  Less chance of gunfire there.”

“Tell me about it.”

We built this city.

It took an hour or two for the boys to clean up the mess, cuff a few people, and clear the scene. Eva sat with Connie at the bar, drinking coffee and watching them work.

“I saw what you did there with that guy,” Connie commented, leaning one elbow on the bar, “How did you learn all that...self defense stuff.”

Eva shrugged, “After my marriage ended I thought it would be good to learn a few things, just in case.”

Connie didn’t need to know that she’d learned it in case one of her husband’s family members decided to get vengeance.  

“Divorce?”

“Death,” Eva clarified.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it was the best thing for everyone involved.”

Connie laughed a little, “Even your husband?”

“Especially my husband,” Eva confirmed with a smile. “Real asshole, let me tell you.”

Eyes following her husband across the room, Connie asked, “He cheat on you.”

“Worse,” Eva answered, her good mood evaporating.  

She closed her eyes and ran a hand over her face, working to right herself. She was saved by Javier approaching, a little saunter in his walk.

“The owner has agreed not to press charges for the fire setting.”

Scoffing, Eva snipped, “What’s a little fire to bullet holes?”

There were several lining the walls.  Almost every piece of furniture not nailed down to the floor was either overturned or broken entirely.  The table she’d been hiding behind with Horacio had splinters up and down it.  If she hadn’t thrown the bottle, the next round of bullets might have gotten through the wood to the other side.

“If anything, this’ll make this place more popular,” he said, tapping out a cigarette and lighting it.

Eva sighed, “Did you have to start the fight?”

He looked at her, “I didn’t start it.”

She rolled her eyes, “I’ve known you for like three months.  You started it.  I don’t know why, but you started it.”

Connie had the good grace to lift her brows and spin a little on her bar stool, sipping her coffee. Javier took a drag and shrugged.

“Right,” Eva said, hopping down. She waved to Connie, “See you at next week’s class.”

She grabbed her purse and headed for the exit, more tired than she cared to admit.  So tired, in fact, she didn’t notice that Carrillo had followed her out.

“Do you ever park closer to where you’re going?”

Eva jumped, hands coming up in front of her.  When she recognized him, she laughed a little, “Sorry, wasn’t paying attention. And, to answer your question: I like the longer walk.  Gives me time to, I don’t know, settle myself.”

He nodded, “Maybe consider parking a little closer when you know you’ll be staying after sundown. Might be safer.”

At this Eva shot him a bemused look, “I think you either shit canned or shot anyone who’d give me trouble.”

He put his hands in his pockets as he walked with her, “You’re the one who set them on fire.”

She gave him a deferential nod, rolling one shoulder, “You may have a point. But, I’d argue that my actions were justified, given that they were shooting at us. I mean, I haven’t been here long, but I’m pretty sure the cultural differences aren’t so dissimilar that—were I to be fired upon, I could be forgiven for returning fire.”

They’d reached her car, and she opened the driver’s door, throwing her purse in the passenger’s seat before turning to look at him. He was just… staring at her, hands in his pockets, looking mystified.

“What?”

He took a breath, “You took one look at that gun and threw me down to cover me.”

Eva paused, going over the memory a bit and agreeing with him, “Yeah, I did.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t save your life?”

He stepped into her space, “You save yourself. Let me take care of me.”

“I make absolutely no promises, Carrillo.”

Slowly, to give her time to know what he was doing, he curled a finger beneath her chin, “You do that when you’re trying to deflect, use my last name.”

In the moment, she hated him a little.  It had taken years to develop her defense mechanisms so that she could function normally with people.  A joke here, a little sarcasm there. Just enough to keep them at a distance.  And, here he was, seeing through her bullshit.

“You are frustrating,” Eva said without any bite.

He smiled, “I’ve been told that.”

“Did they also tell you that you have the cutest little dimples when you smile?”

The laugh that followed was surprised and Eva was gratified to see that he was blushing. She curled a hand over the arm still holding onto her, fingers curling over his bicep.

“No, no one has told me that,” he said after he’d gathered himself.

She considered it, “That’s a shame.”

“Is it?”

They’d moved closer together. Eva could feel the heat from his body, the smell of him that she liked so much tinged with sweat and smoke.

She settled against the side of the car, “Damn shame.”

He ran the back of his fingers over her cheek, considering, “I’ll take your word for it.”

“See that you do.”

Horacio made a soft sound of assent, leaning down to press a soft, tentative kiss to her mouth. He pulled back, but not far, dipping down again for another soft kiss that was entirely too short. Eva’s every breath was filled with him, her skin alight. She leaned up, taking the kiss she wanted. Deeper, harder.

Hands gripping both her hips, he pushed her into the car, his weight preventing escape—not that she particularly wanted to move.  The feeling of being held almost immobile and kissed senseless was delicious in a way that made her toes curl.  She clung to him, inviting more kisses, more touches—just more.

He was the first to break away, breathing hard, “Get in the car.”

“What?”

He shook his head as if to clear it, “Get in the car before I drag you to my truck and take you home with me.”

She smirked, “You probably wouldn’t have to drag me.”

He leveled a serious look at her, “Car. In.”

“Sure thing, Big Guy,” she said, sliding into the seat. “See you at the office.”