#javier pena reader insert

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Self Control.

Javi keeps refusing himself what he wants. One night puts everything into perspective.

Pairing - Javier Peña x female reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - Cursing, mentions of blood and death

Word Count - 3429

Author's Note - hello lovely people, hope you're all well. i've been a huge fan of pedro pascal since his narcos days, so all of this love for him happening currently is making me very happy. javier peña is perhaps my favourite tv character of all time, so i'm very excited to share this story with you. i'd always love to write more javi stuff, so if you ever have any thoughts, please send them my way. i'm happy to write for all pedro characters actually!! as always, much love x

Masterlist. Requests.

It wasn't supposed to go like this. 

It was supposed to be simple. A routine raid. Get the information and go. 

How did it all go so wrong? 

Gunshots. Blood. A sea of green uniforms scattering the ground. Escobar had somehow known about it. He was taking no prisoners. 

The Search Bloc had lost men. The Colombian Police had lost men. You were just praying that you hadn't. 

Javier Peña and Steve Murphy were still out there. You had no idea if they were okay. They could be shot, bleeding out. Kidnapped. Or worse. 

No. 

You're driving yourself insane thinking of all the possible worse case scenarios. Your mind can't help but go there. It's instinct. 

You're sat waiting. Hoping. Praying. You've made your home at Javi and Steve's desks - they're more central to the action than your own. You're watching the front doors, sat in Javi's chair. It smells like cigarette smoke, and musk, and him. You let the familiar scent envelope you, allowing it to bring you comfort. You breathe him in. He'll be here soon. You know he will.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Javier Peña was a complicated man. An enigma. He was tough, but gentle. Rugged, but tender. Commanding, but reserved. He was one big juxtaposition. Impossible to read. 

Or so he thought. 

You came along, and challenged every single one of his existing beliefs. You turned him soft - more understanding, more empathetic. He'll tell you he hates it. He lies. 

You weren't supposed to be here. Not really. You'd followed your brother, a DEA agent, all the way from Texas to Colombia. He'd told you he was being sent to South America to assist with the Pablo Escobar situation, and you'd packed your bags without a second thought. You had no one else. Wherever he goes, you go. Except one place. 

He'd died two months into the job. Shot dead by Escobar's men, in a situation that he shouldn't have even been in. And all of a sudden, you were alone. Alone in an unfamiliar place. Alone in the world. 

Javier made sure that wasn't true. He took you under his wing like an injured baby bird, slowly but surely nursing you back to health. He'd been there, when Carrillo had told you the fate of your brother. He'd caught you in his arms when your knees had given out, held you like he was scared you were going to shatter into a thousand pieces. He was holding you together. He has been, ever since. 

You were just a secretary. The odd one out. The only woman. Looked down on. People pitied you, really. You heard the things they said. Even if you didn't understand, you heard. You could take a guess. 

The world was a terrifying place for a woman. It was a terrifying place in general. But it seemed to be less scary knowing that Javier and Steve were at their desks just across the precinct every day. Your safety blankets. Your protectors. Which is exactly why the thought of losing either of them was currently ripping you apart from the inside out.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Your eyes shot up every time the door opened. Slowly but surely, members of the Search Bloc filtered in - many of them bloody, and injured, but alive. You weren't taking your eyes off the entrance to the precinct. Not for a second. Not when any minute, Peña and Murphy could walk in, and everything would be okay again. Any minute now, you reassure yourself. Any minute now. 

You hear steel toe boots on the linoleum floor, and your breath hitches… but it’s Colonel Carrillo. He spots you from across the room and strides over, ignoring any pleas for his attention from the Search Bloc guys. He envelopes you in a hug - professionalism be damned.

“Are you okay?”, you ask when he pulls back. “What happened? I’ve been going insane listening over the radio.”

“I’m okay, mi amor. We’re still trying to figure out what went wrong. He knew, someone had to have told him.”

You’re just about to ask him about Murphy and Peña when he says,

“We got separated in the chaos. I don’t know where they are, but I’m sure they’re fine. Try not to panic, okay?”

He’s looking at you carefully, and you’re nodding, but you know you aren’t going to take his advice. If anything, now you’re panicking more. Men are filtering through the door every minute, but none of them are the two you’re looking for. Anxiety creeps into your stomach, wraps its claws around your insides. You can’t shake it. You feel like you’re being swallowed by dread - it’s all too familiar. You know exactly what it’s like to have someone you love go into the field and not return.

Carrillo strokes your cheekbone with his thumb gently, and leaves to attend to his men. You sit back down in Javi’s chair, trying to burrow into his scent, the warmth of the leather. You can imagine his big strong arms wrapping themselves around you, the way he nuzzles his nose into the crown of your head when he hugs you, how he traces patterns on your back when he holds you when you’re particularly upset. 

You think about Steve, and the way he winks at you when you catch eye contact across the room, or how he throws an arm around your shoulders whenever he sidles over to your desk to bother you. He’s always stealing candy from your top drawer, and then acting innocent when you call him out on it. You feign annoyance, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. You know you’re lucky to have the two of them looking out for you. You know you’re lucky to have Carrillo on your side too - life would be undoubtedly more difficult without his protection. They make you feel less vulnerable, more equal. You no longer feel like a lamb at the slaughter every time you walk into work. 

Drops of water hit your lap, and you realize you’re crying. Warm, wet tears slide down your cheeks, taking streaks of your mascara with them. Your lipstick has smudged where you’ve been peeling at the skin of your lips, and your nail polish has been incessantly picked at for hours. You know you look just as much of a mess on the outside as you feel on the inside. You close your eyes, and take a deep breath. Calm down, you tell yourself. You’d know if something bad had happened to them. You’d feel it. 

It’s as if time has become molten - sticky, warm molasses. Minutes feel like hours. The world is moving in slow motion, and it’s making you dizzy. Your breath is coming in short, sharp pants, and the urge to curl up into a ball grows stronger by the second. If the boys don’t show up soon, you’re convinced you’re going to crumble into a thousand pieces. You feel like you’re shattering, splitting apart at the seams. Fear sits on your chest like an ugly, relentless creature, choking you with each passing minute. The world is getting colder, darker, and you’re defenseless.

And just like that, your sun appears. Battered, bruised, bloody, but alive. Standing in the doorway, panting and breathless, is Javier Peña. Before you can register what’s happening, you’re leaping out of his chair, and practically running to close the distance between you. You collide with the solid mass of a man, and he wraps his arms around you like it’s second nature. He smells like cigarettes and musk and gunpowder and the outdoors and smoke and home. Relief fills your body, and the weight of it almost knocks you off your feet. You settle further into his chest like you belong there, pressing your nose into him and inhaling. 

You pull away, and notice that his chest is damp. The tears from before are back with a vengeance, sprinting their way down your cheeks, forming puddles wherever they can reach. You’re not sure if you’re crying due to happiness, or fear, or relief - perhaps a mixture of all three. You’re both still panting, looking at each other in disbelief. You fist your hands into the front of his shirt, as if to ground yourself to him. Checking he’s real. In the flesh.

“Don’t cry, cariño. I’m here. I’m okay. We’re okay.” 

He’s murmuring quietly to you, as if you’re the only two people in the room. He reaches out, and gently uses his thumbs to swipe away the tears that are still escaping. Cradling your face in his big, calloused hands, he looks at you earnestly.

“I’ll always come back, bonita. You know I will. Just like I promised.”

He presses his forehead to yours, and for the first time in hours, you relax. You stay pressed together like that for what feels like an eternity, until you hear familiar footsteps approaching. 

You break away from Javier to get a good look at Steve. He too is battered and bruised - hair mussed, shirt torn, blood staining his jeans and his hands. But he’s alive. That’s all that matters.

“Murphy,” you breathe, before wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You’d go out there and take down Escobar yourself if you could. If it meant you didn’t have to see your friends in pain anymore. This job is killing you all from the inside out, slowly but surely. You’re all shells of yourselves. You wonder how much longer you’re all going to be able to cope before you snap. You have a feeling that these two men in front of you are closer to their breaking points than you think. 

“God, I need to shower. I’ve never sweat this much in my life,” Steve remarks, and now that you’re looking at him, you can’t help but agree. You nod, smirk etched on your face, and the corners of his lips turn up. A slight smile from Steve. That’s a win.

A voice rumbles from behind you in response to Murphy’s statement. Jesus, Javi was closer to you than you thought.

“Yeah, me too. You go. I’ll drive her home.” He places a hand on the small of your back, and you can feel the warmth of him seeping through his palm.  He always runs so hot, you think to yourself. Your sun.

Murphy squeezes your arm and heads out the door, leaving you and Javier standing in the middle of the precinct. Everyone seems to be heading home, the room becoming increasingly quiet. You figure the two of you should follow suit. You gesture at Javi to give you a minute, and make your way over to the Colonel’s office, popping your head in the doorway. 

“You should go home, Carrillo,” you say softly. “You need to sleep just as much as the rest of us.”

He smiles at you tentatively, his face dampened with worry. You can see clear as day that he’s blaming himself for the events of the evening. You also know that there’s nothing you can say to make it better.

“I will, querida. I will.”

And with that, you grab your things from your desk, and make your way over to where Javi is waiting for you. He returns his hand to the small of your back, and guides you to his car.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Your hands are shaking when you try to unlock the front door to your apartment. You can’t quite get the key in the lock, and it’s becoming frustrating. Why are you acting like you were the one being shot at tonight? All you had to do was sit at your desk and wait. Get a grip, you tell yourself. You’ve had it the easiest.

Javi can see you’re struggling, so he reaches out and opens the door for you. You step inside, immediately kicking off your heels and throwing down your purse. You turn on the lamp in the corner of the living room, and draw the blinds. All the while, Javi stands in the doorway, watching you complete your nightly rituals. It’s disarming to see you like this, he thinks. So domestic. So at peace.

He clears his throat awkwardly, and places his hand on the doorknob.

“Let me leave you alone, cariño. You need to rest. The adrenaline of tonight is going to wear off any minute, and we’re all gonna crash.”

He takes a step, but you lunge forward in his direction to stop him.

“Wait! Wait. I - I don’t… I can’t - please.” You can’t find the right words. In fact, you’re not even sure what you’re asking for.

He steps back inside your apartment, and shuts the door behind him gently, making sure to lock the deadbolt. He’s never been a man to take stupid chances when it comes to your safety. When it comes to you.

“What is it, mi amor?”, he asks carefully. “What do you need?”

“You,” you answer without a second thought. “Please don’t leave. I don’t think I’ll sleep tonight if you leave.”

He looks at you for a moment - carefully surveying. He takes in your appearance, the pain in your eyes, the way you look so small and fearful standing in front of him. It’s not even a question.

He kicks off his boots, and takes his wallet and his cigarettes out from the back pocket of his jeans, placing them on the counter. Then, he strides over, across the room, and smothers you in a hug that he’s convinced he probably needs more than you. 

You stand like that, embraced in each other, for what feels like forever. Two people breathing each other in, trying to absorb the other person. If you could crawl into Javier’s chest, bury yourself into his ribcage, you would. No hug is ever close enough. Never enough. It’s never enough.

“I’ll stay,” he murmurs into your hair. “I’ll always stay.”

You pull back to gaze into those big brown eyes, warm and sweet like chocolate. He looks serene, peaceful, almost. You don’t get to see him like this very often.

“You should shower,” you tell him quietly. You’re worried that you’re going to spook one another, so you both keep the volume to a minimum. “I’ll make us some tea.”

He nods gently, and makes his way to your bathroom. Moments later, you hear the water running, so you begin to boil the kettle, reaching for two mugs from your cabinet.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You place a mug of tea on each nightstand either side of your bed, and slip out of your skirt and blouse. You opt for a tank top and shorts - the Colombian heat still unrelenting, even in the early hours of the morning. The sun will be up soon, you think. A new day.

Javi stands in the doorway of your bathroom with a towel slung low on his hips. Droplets of water are journeying down his chest, and your eyes follow, as if on instinct. He smirks when he catches you, watching your face heat up slightly.

“Cute bedsheets,” he remarks. “I like the love hearts.”

He’s still smirking, so you get up to smack him on the arm.

“Shut up, Javier,” you threaten, with no real malice. “Your tea is on the nightstand.”

You turn your back when he changes back into his black boxers, which only amuses him further. He can’t help but admire you from his place across the room. The way your hair blows slightly with the breeze from the opened window, the band of skin between where your tank top ends and your shorts begin, the sweat at the nape of your neck. He knows you’d taste like salt and sugar simultaneously. It takes everything in him not to run his tongue up your spine. You shiver from your spot on the edge of the bed, as if you can read his mind.

“I’m dressed, querida,” he almost whispers. You turn around, and shamelessly let your eyes rake over his golden skin, wishing so badly to reach out and touch him. He’s wearing significantly less clothes than you expected. Not that you’re complaining.

He lays down carefully on one side of your bed, stretching himself out on his back. You turn off the lamp on the nightstand, and lay down on the other side, careful to keep some distance between the two of you. You thought that having him here would relax you, but it seems to be doing the opposite. You feel like your nerve endings are on fire - the room is too warm, you can’t seem to get your lungs to fill with air, you’re hyper aware of every little movement in the room. You’re on edge.

Javi’s breathing is deep, calculated. He’s trying to keep calm. Everything in him is screaming to reach out and touch you, to throw an arm around your waist, to tangle his legs in between yours. He’s not sure he’s ever shown this level of self control.

“Javi,” you breathe. “Relax, please. I can feel how tense you are from here.”

He takes a deep breath before he answers you.

“Sorry, mi vida. I’m just - I’m… I’m trying.”

“Trying?”

“Trying to use every inch of restraint that I have.”

Your breath hitches, and he hears it, clear as day.

“What for?” you whisper.

“To resist the urge to touch you.”

You’re breathing quicker now, and so is he. The air in the room is thick with tension - it’s a miracle you’re both still conscious. 

“You’ve never really been one to deny yourself of the things you want, Javi," you whisper. "You’re not usually the patron saint of self control.” 

And with that, he snaps. He grabs your hips, and uses effortless strength to pull you so you’re straddling him, settled in his lap. He sits up to bring your faces level, and presses his forehead into yours, just like he did mere hours ago in the precinct. 

You know that tonight has changed everything for the two of you. You also know there’s no going back from this - you can’t uncross this line. The friendship that exists between you and Javi, a relationship that’s been so carefully built on trust and support and boundaries - permanently altered if you continue. You just can’t seem to find it in you to care. Not really. You want Javier Peña for all he is, all he has. Consequences be damned.

“I love you, cariño,” he breathes into your mouth. “Fuck, I love you.”

You’re convinced that any minute, you’re going to wake up from this beautiful dream. But for now, you make the most of it.

“I love you, Javier Peña. I love you so much it hurts.”

And with that, he’s kissing you. It’s desperate, and it’s needy, and it’s so full of love you’re worried that you’re going to pass out. His lips are on your lips, and he’s got one hand firmly at the nape of your neck, holding you in place. As if I’m going anywhere, you think. I’d happily stay here forever.

You’re so lost in each other that you don’t notice the sunrise. Dawn hits the window, casting an orange hue across the room. Javi looks like he’s glowing, the sunlight glinting off his hair. Golden boy.

He pulls off your shirt, and presses his chest to yours. He’s convinced you’re tethered to each other - he can feel the connection through your skin. It almost makes him want to cry, this feeling. It’s never felt like this before. It never will again. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, and your legs around his waist, ensuring that there isn’t a centimeter of space between you. You don’t know what today holds. You know it won’t be easy. But you’re comforted by the fact that you know Javi will be right there beside you. No matter what happens from this moment on, Javi is always going to be right there beside you.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” you breathe into his mouth.

“I love you, mi alma,” he breathes back. “Mi corazón, mi alma.”

My heart, my soul. It’s as if he took the words right out of your mouth. 

Mi corazón, mi alma.

My heart, my soul.

[unlimitedlust]

Good Girl Gone Bad (Javier Peña x Reader)

A/N: Heyyy, another Javier Peña thristy fanfiction for you!!! Now heads up for initial details I noted people appreciate:

Word count: 4.3K

Disclaimers: it’s a female Reader x Javier story, +18 (very explicit scenes ahead guys) 🌶️🔥👄💦, unprotected p in v, tinges of sub Javi and breeding kink!!!

When you see this “-0-”, I recommend you to put “Ride or Die, Pt. 2” by Sevdaliza, Villano Antillano and Tokischa for ambiance purpose!!!

Please let me know if you enjoyed it, likes and reblogs are very much appreciated and also encourage me to keep writing (if you like my writing ofc 😅)

Enough said: Enjoy your reading!!!

Javier seized the burning sensation from the freshly brewed coffee down his throat as he took a big gulp from his mug, as if the bitter liquid was going to turn off his mind from all the work he had to do for at least a few seconds. His eyes scanned the big piles of files around him, the full ashtray almost falling off the front border of his table and next to the telephone he’d left off the receiver on purpose.

DEA staff ran up and down their office talking on the phone, receiving and printing new information from loud fax machines, typewriters keys clicking annoyingly loud, both English and Spanish being spoken all the time. For an ordinary person who wasn’t used to such a busy dynamic it was a maddening environment itself, not to mention the main part of their job, which was chasing after narcos.

Javier knew all their faces and names, but he was under such stress he just didn’t care to engage in any kind of small talk conversations with his coworkers anymore, and day after day he understood the wallflower that sat in the farthest corner of the office, just doing her job like a horse on a winker.

He knew she worked there for a while now, but all the knowledge he had about her was her name and that she was a great investigator. She was so quiet the only times he’d heard her voice was when someone greeted her and she greeted them back. At first Javier thought she was a weirdo, but now not only he admired her invisibility and discretion, but also understood why she wanted to be left in peace in a corner just doing her job.

The fact that she was a beautiful woman didn’t go unnoticed by him of course, even without ever seeing her smile, but she kept herself shut to any contact with anyone in that place he just didn’t dare to bother the peace she seemed to hold and he envied so much.

Sadly his position in the DEA didn’t allow him to have that luxury, after all, he was The Javier Peña.

Hours flew by and by the time Javier broke his attention away from the files in front of him, he realized it was dark outside and he was alone in the building again.

He knew he still had endless work to do for the day, but he’d had enough, his head would explode if he spent another night in that office, he needed to leave and blow off some steam.

“Fuck this shit”

-0-

Grabbing his car keys, Javier left the empty DEA office and drove mindlessly around the city looking for the first place that would grab his attention enough to drag him inside.

Tonight he wasn’t looking for a hooker to spend a few hours by his side, if he wanted that he’d just head home and call one of his contacts and get it over with.

He wanted something different, something cheerful and with heavy drinks, he desperately needed to forget his job and all the shit he had to deal with everyday just for a few hours.

A club with big pink neon lights adorning its name caught his attention as he parked his vehicle on the side of the street, the loud reggaeton beats coming from the inside drawing him in as he made his way to the entrance.

Just as he stepped inside he was swallowed by a sea of sweaty and drunken people dancing, twerking, grinding on each other, hands all over the place, allowing the sensual and captivating beat to take over their bodies and desires.

It was perfect for what Javier needed at that moment.

He made his way through the crowd to one of the bars, checking out a few asses on his way there, feeling more comfortable and confident as he received some flirtatious glances in his direction.

With an ice cold beer in hand he checked out the dance floor in front of him once again, but this time a woman in a dark pink skin tight dress caught his attention. He hadn’t seen her face yet as she had her back turned in his direction, but the way she swayed her hips and how that tantalizingly short dress hugged her body in all the right places made his mouth water at the sight. He couldn’t help but wonder how she would look like moving like that on his dick, riding him in a reverse cowgirl position with that juicy ass and bouncy hips. The thought alone made his jeans feel tighter on himself.

Javier took a larger gulp of his beer as he got ready to approach her, ready to use all of his charm and unfailing game with women in hopes to be the one to take her home tonight.

But as soon as she turned in his direction, his jaw dropped when he realized the woman he was lusting on was the wallflower from the DEA, the one that no one knew nothing about other than her name and the info on her files, held a naughty smile on her face as she danced in the most provocative way possible, dragging not only Javier’s but many other men’s attention, and she knew it, she meant it.

Every now and then men tried to approach her to dance with her and maybe get a little taste, but she ditched them all gracefully. She didn’t want them. She wanted to feel desired and lusted on, but for her the real fun was in taking the candy out of their mouths, which was drawing them in like a mermaid, to then ditch them off like nothing.

The new discovery only encouraged Javier to take his shot with her. He was well aware that working with her could be both a leverage or a weakness, and there was only way he could find out.

She hadn’t seen him yet, the dim and colorful flickering lights over her didn’t allow her to see faces clearly from a certain distance, so he used that to watch her, waiting for the perfect window to go after her.

And just as she left the dance floor to the bar at the other side of the club the window was open.

“Good girl only during business hours?” Javier purred in her right ear just as she rested her forearms on the counter.

He didn’t miss the way his low voice caused goosebumps on her skin, the thin hairs on her arms standing immediately as he got by her side on the counter, waiting for her answer as she displayed a sly smirk on her plush lips.

“What makes you think I’m not a good girl full time?” She batted her eyelashes, a challenging glimmer in her orbs as her eyes traveled from his brown ones to his mouth, watching him lick his lips for a second as he seemed to get lost in his sinful thoughts for a moment.

Taking him off guard, she rested her right hand on his chest and slid her index finger over the first sets of buttons of his cream shirt, opening the them skillfully in a swift motion, revelaving part of his tanned and smooth chest, the light touch of her fingertip being enough to make his heart race.

“I like you better that way” The playful smirk never leaving her lips “Charming”

“Charming enough to buy you a drink?”

“I like shots better”

Javier was now by her side, right elbow propped on the counter as he signaled the bartender for two shots of tequila. He put two shot glasses in front of them along with a salt cellar and served them a small plate with pieces of lime, producing the bottle containing the golden liquid for last.

“Leave the bottle” He demanded just as the bartender finished filling the glasses.

They put salt on their hands, licked it and downed their first shot, the section of lime coming right after to soothe the bitter oaky punch, the alcohol instantly warming up their bodies.

“How did you find me here?” She asked, running her thumb in the corner of her lips to clean off the excess of lime juice.

“Are you upset about that, cariño?”

He faked a pout.

“Well…” She paused, pretending to be thinking deeply about the answer “I’m actually glad you found me”

“Is that so? Mind telling me why?”

“If you play my cards right, might as well show you” She teased him, pouring them another round of tequila.

“Then teach me how to play them”

They took their second round of tequila, but this time their eyes never broke their contact, a silent dispute of power between them, hunters hunting one another, testing each other to see how far their teasing would go, who would lose the battle and give in first.

Javier was both amused and tempted.

Amused because he still couldn’t believe that in front of him, challenging him, was the shy reserved woman from the DEA, claws out and ready to attack.

Tempted because she was the temptation herself. But Javier was a competitive man and he wasn’t going down without a fight.

“Do you dance, Mr. Peña?”

“Javi” He corrected “You’ll have to find out by yourself”

“I’ll take my chances”

She winked and handed him another shot, both of them sinking it fast, the spicy-woody liquid didn’t even burn their throats anymore as their bodies already felt like in flames, not only from the alcohol, but also from the heated exchange between them as every second, every word, every glance felt like electric shocks, like adding fuel to the fire.

Javier waited for her to give the next move as she sized him up, the smug look on her face making clear she had nothing but bad intentions in her mind, and oh boy how he wanted to get into her trouble.

“Come on”

She hooked her index finger in one of his pant’s belt loops and pulled him, the sudden move making Javier jolt forward, his body halting less than an inch away from hers, a dangerously short distance separating them as she watched amused his surprised reaction over her small stunt.

Colorful lights beamed over them as they were now in the middle of the dance floor, a loud song with heavily provocative beats and lyrics guiding their bodies, her arms resting loosely around his neck and one of his hands keeping her close by the end of her back as they danced together, their hips moving in sync, up close, almost intimate, but never brushing against each other, one of his legs strategically positioned between hers as they swayed sensually.

She slid one of her hands down his chest seductively, but this time, he was the one in control.

The hand on her back slid to her waist and spun her around, his hands now keeping her in place and practically locked against his body by her lower belly and waist, her ass now rolling irresistibly close to his crotch.

Javier loved how her skin reacted to the way he manhandled her, goosebumps all over as she bit her bottom lip and threw her head back, leaning against his shoulder as she let herself get lost in her own lustful thoughts for a moment, the suggestive lyrics only adding to her imagination.

Taking advantage of her exposed neck, Javier got intoxicated by her smell, the jasmine and warm notes of cocoa overpowered his senses as his lips traced the sensitive skin towards her ear, the light touch of his lips along with his mustache intensifying the goosebumps she still hadn’t recovered from yet.

“Am I up to your expectations?” He whispered in her ear, his lips moving just above her lobe. His teasing affected her more than she’d like to admit.

They lost track of the time they spent dancing together, teasingly of course, but also having a great time singing, laughing and smiling at each other.

Javier, who'd never seen her smile before that night, couldn’t take his eyes off her lips every time they curved upwards, revealing not only her beautiful lined teeth, but also the dimples on her glowing cheeks, lighting up her already cheerful face.

And again he caught himself admiring her, as they were now outside of the club. Javier stood leaning his back on his truck’s passenger door while she stood on his opposite side, leaning herself on the wall behind her.

A comfortable silence hung between them as he lit up a cigarette and she drank the last bottle of beer she got on their way out. Javier inhaled the smoke, enjoying the feel of the nicotine kicking in his system as he watched her take a gulp from the bottle, her lips wrapping around it softly as she reciprocated his gaze.

He wondered what her lips felt like, not only against his lips, but all over his body, plump and soft kissing him, caressing him, marking him, sucking him, the thought alone making his pants feel tight once again.

The sound of her heels clicking on the pavement took him out of his reverie as he now realized she was coming to him, slow and steady steps. She left the half empty bottle on his truck’s roof behind his head and then took the cigarette from his hands, bringing it to her own lips as she held it between her manicured nails.

And just as she leant on his vehicle by his side, he took his cue to leave his position and imprison her between his body and the truck, his arms hovering on each side of her head, the smug smile indicating she had him right where she wanted him to be: his body inches away from hers, the muscles on his arms twitching with the force he held onto the truck’s roof ledge, trying not to lose the last bit of restraint he still had.

She puffed the smoke out of her lips towards his, the simple yet enticing gesture making him snap and take the cigarette off her hands in a swift motion, throwing it away just as he crashed his lips against hers.

Their tongues met right away initiating an erotic dance, devouring each other, euphoria rushing through their veins as their teasing had finally reached its goal.

Javier cupped her jaw and pressed his body against hers urgently, the jolt against the truck making the beer bottle fall and shatter on the ground, the loud noise and green glass on the pavement not bothering them at all as she pulled the soft curls on his nape and grazed her teeth against his lower lip.

His big hands slid down her waist behind her and grabbed her ass cheeks, pulling her up and making her wrap her legs around him for support, her short dress rolling up to her hips leaving her almost half naked on the street.

Using the leverage he had with the position, Javier ground his raging erection trapped inside his jeans against her core, covered only by already drenched black lace panties, earning a strangled whimper from her.

Part of him wanted to just pull her panties aside and take her right there on the street against his truck, raw and rough. But the other part wanted to take his time with her, after all it would be a shame to just resume the last few hours of teasing in just a few minutes. And also, he didn’t know if he’d had another shot with her after they got back to their professional facades.

“Are we getting inside your truck or you want to give our audience explicit content?” She tilted her head, indicating the group of people next to the club’s door, a few curious eyes lingering, waiting for their next step “Either way I’m in”

“You’re mine only, at least for tonight” His teeth dug on the soft flesh of her neck as he fished the car keys in his back pocket “But as long as I can fuck you I’m into anything you want, bonita”

Javier put her down and opened the truck’s back door, revealing the brown leather cushion dimly illuminated by the street lights.

He let her in first and watched with hungry eyes the way she crawled inside the vehicle and then rolled her body upwards, resting her back on the other door only to then slide her panties down and off her legs, spreading them open in a seductive way, offering herself to Javier, who hurriedly got inside the truck and closed the door behind him.

He pulled her by her ankle and hovered over her, his gaze connecting deeply to hers as he fished the panties she’d dropped on the car floor and put them in his back pocket, the simple yet unexpected action arousing her even more.

Javier’s hand made its way to her nape, bringing her head up for a breathtaking and passionate kiss, their hungry tongues invading and exploring each other's mouth as her fingers slid down the buttons of his shirt, undoing them without breaking their kiss.

As they devoured each other frantically, her hands explored his broad chest and abs, enjoying the feeling of his soft golden skin under her digits and the way his muscles flexed with the thrusting movements he made every now and then, purposely grinding his clothed erection against her exposed core.

Their kiss got sloppy as Javier’s hand found its way down her body, feeling her soft breasts, the curve of her hips then down the smooth skin of her thigh and leg, hooking it on his back before his hand slid up her body again but this time, skipping no beat towards her intimacy.

Javier growled when he finally felt how wet she really was for him, her arousal coating his fingers sliding up and down her pussy in feather-like touches just to tease her.

Whimpering, she rolled her eyes and clawed his back under his shirt when he increased the pressure with his digits and traced tight circles against her needy clit, her whole body melting under him as it got overpowered by shameless waves of pleasure.

Drinking in her sexed expression, Javier slid a finger inside her wanting a bigger dose of satisfaction out of the intoxicating woman under him. The unexpected invasion of his thick

finger made her moan louder and arch her back against his body, which only encouraged him to add another one right after, stretching her further, her slick pussy clenching around his fingers in response.

She bit his shoulder as he finger fucked her, his fingers massaging the magic spongy spot inside her as his thumb roled lazy circles on her clit, making her nails drag angry scratch marks down his back while her other hand pressed hard on the leather backrest, nails desperately digging in it.

Javier trailed small nips and kisses along her collarbone and neck while his fingers kepting working on her, all of it adding to the building pleasure in her lower stomach, getting her closer and closer to bursting at each expert rub of his rough digits against her clit and g-spot.

But she didn’t want to come yet, much less in that submissive condition.

Fighting against her own urges, she pulled his hand out of her, bringing it to her lips to lick her own juices off his fingers, her dark orbs drawing him in as she sucked his fingers suggestively, swirling her tongue around them.

“Now sit” She commanded, cheeks still red and heart racing from his finger fucking “And take of your shirt”

She didn’t need to ask Javier twice for him to comply, he knew she was close on his fingers, and now he wanted to see and feel what she had in mind.

Just as he took his shirt off and straightened his back against the seat, she straddled him and pulled down the top half of her dress, exposing her breasts, hard perky nipples at his mouth’s level and he couldn’t help but to dive in.

Javier fondled and squeezed them hard with both hands before he took a mouthful of one of them, teeth grazing the hard bundle of nerves, then rolling and sucking in with his flat tongue, and then repeated the same stimulation on the other one, feasting on the soft mounds before him as she unfastened his belt and unbuttoned his jeans.

Catching up with her intentions, Javier lifted his hips from the seat, enough to take both pieces of clothes off, allowing her to undress him completely, all while he still delved into her breasts.

With his thick and hard manhood free, she spread his leaking precum over his tip with her thumb, tantalizing him before she finally took it and held it against her clit, rocking her hips back and forth, arching her back towards the front seat behind her and getting herself off against his shaft, her slick blending with his precum.

Javier broke apart from her chest to gaze down between them, his cock sliding easy against her drenched folds, teasing him shamelessly.

“Condom?” He asked, but only out of politeness.

“No” She leaned in, foreheads touching as she whispered against his lips “I wanna feel all of you”

Her answer got his cock impossibly harder and dying to feel her, and for his luck, she was also getting impatient.

Javier held his breath the moment she stopped her motions right when his tip was lined to her entrance, the thrill of anticipation of finally having her making his heart race faster as his hands flattened on her thighs.

“Tell me what you want” She demanded seductively, teasing his tip pressed against her opening, torturing him with slow rolls of her hips, threatening to slide down on him at any second.

“I want you, cariño” He gasped, chest heaving up and down.

“Yeah? And what do you want me to do with you?” One of her hands cupped his jaw and brought his lips close to hers, close enough to feel his ragged breath against hers.

“Ride me, bonita, I’m yours”

She placed a soft kiss against his lips before she leaned back between the front seats and placed her hand over her mound, fingers spreading her folds apart allowing him to have a full view of where his tip met her pussy, until she finally sank on his cock, her opening slowly welcoming and swallowing him in, his thickness stretching her walls each inch as his name came out of her lips in the sexiest moan he’d ever heard, and he swore that that scene alone was enough to make him cum.

But he needed to last, he needed to feel more of her, see her, have her, every detail in front of and on him, getting him terribly pussy drunk on her at each second as he felt their bodies merging and watched his cock disappear inside of her, her walls tightening around him in a slippery and warm embrace.

He threw his head back and rolled his eyes as she started to ride him at a deeply addictive pace, his fingertips digging in the flesh of her hips, pulling her harder down on him at each thrust forward.

“Eyes on me, Javi” Her command came out as a needy whine as her hand slid down his neck towards his shoulder, the skin slapping sounds getting louder as her bounces got harder.

Javier moved one of his hands to the back of her head, fingers tangling in the roots of her hair as he now thrusted his hips up to meet hers, the new and unexpected angle made her cry out his name again and dig her nails onto his shoulders, looking for an extra leverage.

He hooked his other arm on her lower back keeping her body against his, and the way she melted in his arms only made him keep on, thrusting harder and faster against her while she held onto him for her dear life.

Without disconnecting their bodies, Javier laid her on the backseat, eager to be the one fully in charge, especially because holding his release back was being a lot harder than usual.

One of his hands took support in the car’s windows, which was completely humid and foggy and entrentched with sex as he fucked her hard, her back arching and her walls tightening around him with her climax right around the corner.

She closed her eyes and moaned even louder as he put one of her legs over his shoulder, the new angle allowing him to go even further, deeper and drive her into oblivion in record speed.

“Look at me when I’m fucking you” He demanded, bossy as the Javier Peña she was used to watch on duty, and that was the line for her to feel the knot on her lower belly snap hard, strong waves of white hot pleasure through her veins, making her cum hard and milk his cock looking deeply in his dark eyes.

The mesmerizing scene together with the clenching from her climax on his shaft also made him cum seconds after her, exploding inside her, his hot seed filling her in long spurts, the feeling of his dick throbbing inside her riding her high for a few extra seconds before they collapsed, the hand on the car window leaving a wet trail as it lazily slid down.

She moaned when he finally pulled out, instantly missing him inside her as he carefully took her in his arms and laid next to her, nestling her body against his, both their breathings and heart beats still racing fast.

“We have a problem now” He muttered looking at the car’s ceiling.

“What?” Her answer was low and unconcerned, too fucked out to care about anything at that moment.

“Office hours are gonna be challenging from now on.”

[ghostly-wisp]

MR. LOVERMAN, CHAPTER 2

i finished this at like 2am after last night's episode so like?? ignore how rushed it might seem i was tired

warnings—mentions of alcohol (reader gets drunk)

[series masterlist ] [chapter 1] [chapter 3]

A couple of months went by, a lot faster than how Pedro expected it to be. Before he knows it, it's nearly Thanksgiving break. and soon, it's going to be time for winter vacation. By then, the year will already be halfway over.

Thanksgiving break wasn't as big of a deal to students, because the break was shorter. It was just a long weekend, but still–a break is a break nontheless. The worst day was the Monday before, and the Monday after. 

Mondays never used to bother Pedro, frankly, he didn't mind waking up early and driving to work while the sun was still coming out, however, some moving into the apartment complex — the neighbors are less than considerate. They blast their crappy remixed music until ungodly hours of the night, which resulted in him getting a lot less sleep than before, and he couldn't quite enjoy the sun anymore. He wonders if he should've kept the house in the divorce–he paid for it after all. Though he wouldn't feel as happy in it anymore, it wouldn't be home. 

He can't think of the details of his divorce for too long, it'll either make him feel upset or angry. As he's going to work, he can't be either of those things. The students shouldn't see him like that, and some of them are already upset and angry enough for both of them. 

He drives into the staff parking lot at 7:02, which gives him just barely enough time to get into his classroom and prepare for the day ahead. He had a good week before vacation planned, all his students were going to the lab — he finally got the okay to perform the elephant toothpaste experiment — and he was sure that the kids would love an experiment like that. He gets his bag filled with yeast, water, and food coloring – and he's off into the building.

He can tell the staff doesn't want to be here either, their huge coffees and barely awake mumbling. He can only imagine how the students will be. Only four days, then it's a long weekend and Thanksgiving. He's only halfway to his classroom when he notices you're not too far in front of him in the hall, so he calls your name. 

When you turn–you smile at the sight of your friend, honestly, you thought it would've been Jen or someone else you just didn't have the energy to talk to at the moment. "Morning, Pedro." you hum, stopping in your tracks to allow him to catch up. "What's the plan for today?" 

"Elephant toothpaste!" He exclaims, turning the corner to the hallway of both your classrooms. He's already talked your ear off about this experiment – so you didn't need to ask about it again. If there was anything he was more passionate about than teaching, it was science. It's what made him such an effective teacher. "And you?"

"Nothing special. I had a test planned but honestly, I might just put on a movie." giving them a test would be pointless, and probably just piss your students off. He nods as if he heard your thoughts, "That would probably be better." 

You smile, stopping at your door and finding your room's key on the Keychain. "A couple of other teachers and I are going out after school on Thursday, to celebrate the vacation." You tell him, he's standing up against a locker watching you struggle with your keys before finally pushing your classroom door open. "Probably to some bar, you're welcome to join us. If you want." 

It feels nice to be included in work parties like this, to have the chance to interact with people you work with for hours on end five times a week, outside of an environment where you have to watch what you say and force this sort of politeness. However, the age thing made it harder for him.

The age gap doesn't stop him from being friends with the other teachers—the technology teacher just around the corner was fifteen or so years older than Pedro, though he can assure you he won't be at this gathering. He can already imagine the crowd it will likely be, you, Sam, and a bunch of other teachers in their late twenties to early thirties. He would be out of place, too old to be hanging out with the youth. God forbid you wanted to dance — the last time he danced was at his wedding, ten years ago. "I dunno," he says after a few moments of contemplating, playing with the lid of his coffee cup, following "Don't you think – I'll be a little out of place?" He decides to put it lightly, instead of, don't you think I won't fit in because I'm old?

"Don't be ridiculous," you dismiss, waving your hand as you put your coat and bag in the closet behind your desk. "You realize, half the staff loves you, right? Think you're the coolest guy they've met." and some other things you promised not to say. 

"And the other half?" 

"They don't know you." 

Thursday came quicker than Pedro expected, though he should've known given it was just a four-day week, and there wasn't any productive work happening in his classroom.

He didn't give it much thought until you popped your head into his room once all the children left the school for the weekend. "Did you make up your mind?" you ask, his attention shifts to you, he can't help but notice the new way you had styled your hair today, and he made a mental note to say something about it.  

"Are you sure I won't be too old for you youths?" He asks playfully, "I don't want to drag the rest of you down." To this response, you roll your eyes. "Pedro Pascal." You huff, stepping completely into his classroom. "Enough with this age nonsense, I bet you can still bust some moves. Have fun tonight." 

"Fine, I'll go." He can't seem to find a way to say no to you, part of him thinks he doesn't entirely want to, it's been so long since he went out with friends and relaxed like this, perhaps it was the night of his graduation night when he went to the bar last. That feels like centuries ago now. "You don't mind if I leave at seven? I have to be in bed by eight." 

"Oh, shut up! you're not that old!" 

He's back in his apartment, looking frantically for any clothes to wear that weren't too business casual, this was a bar after all — he wasn't going to show up in one of his silly ties. It seemed though that everything he tried on wasn't right. As the clock got closer to the time you told him to meet everyone else, he grew impatient, throwing on black pants and a long black long-sleeved shirt, and he was on his way.

He pulls into the parking lot to see a good number of cars, but none of them look familiar to him–he was nervous that he was in the wrong place, and he's about to check his phone to reread your text before he sees you getting out of your car. He assumes you saw him when you start heading over to him. He turns the engine, slips out of his truck, and locks the door.

"Wow, wow, Mr. Pascal–don't you clean up nicely," you comment, making him re-check what he's wearing as if he forgot. "Thank you, Ms. L/N. You don't look too bad yourself." You only beam, before turning heel to head towards the bar. "Come on, old man. Times tickin' before your bedtime, and we're not spending it outside in the parking lot!"

Pedro's not fully sure what he was expecting, but it wasn't this.

He wasn't completely wrong in the sense of who came — it was more people around your age interested in the dance floor playing Lady Gaga – not that she's not amazing, that woman is a God – however, it just wasn't his groove tonight. He notices Sam is very into it, they're dancing to whatever song comes on and living in the moment. Pedro is envious for a moment, he watches everyone on the dance floor for a moment, thankfully, when you slide into the chair beside him, martini in hand, and distract him from his co-workers' choreography to Bad Romance. You've got a buzz going, not that he can blame you. If he had a designated driver, he would've been drinking a little more himself.

"Pedro," you start, there's a pause before you continue. "You gotta dance—have fun with us! you look awfully lonely sittin' here by yourself with a, what are you drinking?"

"Jack Daniels," He says, "Jack Daniels!" you exclaim.

"'m not lonely." He assures, sometimes he liked the solitude. While he did come here for a social outing, sometimes he liked to be left alone in places like this. "You should go back out there! Join your friends on the dance floor!" to his suggestion, you shake your head. Even with alcohol in your system, you're just as stubborn as when you're sober. "Not without you, no!"

"Can I ask you something?" If you were sober, he would've said something stupid like you already did. Though he figures that while you're in your current state, squinting your eyes at him, perhaps now wasn't the time to use such stale humor. "Shoot,"

"Why did you get a divorce?"

…woah.

For some reason he wasn't expecting that, not from you at least—maybe Sam, or Jenny, or one of the other teachers whose first names he can never remember. He can tell you're curious, eyebrows raised and your drink is pulled closer to you, his face suddenly feels hot, and he's blushing. He can't quite figure out why, is he embarrassed?

Divorce isn't something to be embarrassed about, it happens to more people than you might think. Yeah, he's forty-seven years old and that's a little later than when most people get divorced, but it's not like it's completely unheard of. He's not Ross Geller from the show friends, it's not like this is his second or third divorce. Still, the word haunts him and follows him around as this sort of shame, this dirty word. He feels like he's judged by teachers and students. Mr. Pascal moved here because he got divorced. That his friends walk on eggshells around him, Pedro hasn't been the same since his divorce. "She cheated on me," he replies, deciding on telling the truth about it. It's the best way to face it, his life fell to shambles because his wife — the woman who he promised to love through sickness and health — decided to find comfort in the arms of another, he can't sleep as well as he used to because he moved out of his home where he had caught them, he couldn't stay there because of the reminders in each hallway what used to be.

He's caught off guard when you make a "tsk" sound, "I can't believe that," you say, "Who can cheat on you? I mean you're sweet, you're funny, and attractive, any woman would be lucky to have you!" While touched by your words that he assumes is meant to be a ego boost, he knows that he didn't give you the entire story.

"I was kind of being a shitty husband, I was drowning myself in work all the time, n' when I wasn't working, I wasn't giving her an equal amount of my time either. She found someone who would, I can't blame her for that." You wave your hand as if that part doesn't matter. "Whatever, I still can't believe someone would cheat on you. I mean, you're a heartthrob, who could let that go?" He knows you don't mean it — if you do, you're too drunk to be willingly saying it. Not to him at least, he underestimated your buzz.

"Who's your driver for tonight?" he asks, choosing not to comment on what you said to save you any embarrassment in case you wake up tomorrow and remember this. "Sam," you say, looking at the dance floor to point to them as if Pedro hadn't ever met them before. When you go to do that, you discover that they're gone. Apparently, they left. Leaving you abandoned, because well, Pedro sure as hell was not going to allow you to drive home. He pays for his drinks, and offers his arm out to you, which you not-so-gracefully stumble into. "Where we goin', Mr. Pascal?" you ask while he guides you to the doors of the bar. You're leaning into his chest, he's a lot leaner than you thought, and he smells vaguely of vanilla. "I'm taking you to my house," he sighs, patting his pockets until he finds his keys, unlocking the car to help you in.

He sighs once he's finally got you into the car, he's thankful that he went because god knows where you could've been by now, and he doesn't want anything happening to you—he's also thankful because he has material to tease you about once you're well enough to understand.

I'm a heartthrob. He thinks, smirking wide as he gets into the driver's seat.

TAGLIST:

@djarinsstuff @doodlebob-mp3 @wanniiieeee @zeyzeys-stuff @jay1bird23 @corpsebridenightamare @queerponcho

[second-axis-point]

Headcanon idea: Reader has had a bad week and ask his boyfriend (Pedros boys) to maybe look after them and sing to him. How would each character respond?

I’m just gonna do some of my favorite Pedro characters since none were listed. Hope that’s alright. Thanks for the request! 💚

Pairings: Pedro Pascal Characters x Male!Reader

Warnings: None!

Content: Headcanons, Fluff, Comfort

A Bad Week

Joel Miller

You came back to Jackson, beat up and tired. You opened the front door to see Joel reclining on the couch. He got up as soon as he saw you. You throw your pack down and prepare to be yelled at for being so reckless. But Joel would only pull you into a warm embrace. He looked upset. He moves his hands up to the side of your face and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Are you alright, darlin’?”

Joel asks and you shake your head.

“I feel like I was just hit by a bus.”

You said honestly, leaning in to hug Joel again. He accepted and started moving backwards to the couch. He lays down carefully, pulling you with him, and making sure to avoid any sore spots you have. He moves a hand up to run through your hair and trace patterns on your back. You would fall asleep in his arms and he would stay in and relax with you the next day.

Agent Whiskey/Jack Daniels

Jack had been gone for a month, off on a mission for the Statesman. You had been drowning in paperwork all week and you just wanted to go home and cuddle up with a bottle of whiskey and drink yourself to sleep. You finished your last paper, relief written all over your face, and got up from your desk. Your back and neck were sore and throbbing from sitting at a desk all day. You grabbed your coat before leaving the building and driving home. You pulled into the driveway and noticed that Jack’s car was parked in front of the house. You smiled before turning off the engine and climbing out of the car.

You walk up to the house and see that the door was already unlocked. So you walk in and put your keys away.

“Jack?”

You call out to your boyfriend. You hear rustling in the kitchen so you shuffle over. You see Jack standing at the counter with a whiskey bottle in hand. You grin and hug him from behind, nuzzling into his shoulder.

“Welcome home, sugar.”

Jack said, his tone playful.

“Did you miss me, sweetheart?”

He asked before turning around in your arms.

“Desperately.”

You said with a smile. You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Jack’s lips before taking the bottle from his hand. You took a swig, grimaced, and set the bottle down on the table.

“Jeez, I can see you’ve had a rough day just by the bags under your eyes.”

Jack says, putting his hands on your hips.

“Rough week actually. Been drowning in paperwork for days.”

You roll your eyes and he kisses the tip of your nose.

“How ‘bout I try and make it better.”

Jack grins and moves in closer.

“Go ahead.”

You laugh and wrap your arms around his neck.

Javi Gutierrez

It has been a stressful week for both of you. You finally got a day off and it didn’t take much convincing for Javi to stay home as well. You woke up in an empty bed, Javi had already gotten up. You still felt tired but you probably couldn’t fall asleep without Javi next to you.You got up and lumbered out of the bedroom to see Javi making breakfast. He didn’t notice that you had walked in so you stood in the doorway and watched him with a smile. It took him a few minutes for him to spot you in the doorway. 

“Buenos días cariño!”

You smiled at him.

“Good morning love.”

Javi jogged up to you and pressed a soft kiss to your temple. He gave you a bright smile before making you a plate and sitting down at the table with you. The two of you ate in a comfortable silence with Javi looking over at you every now and then. You helped clean up before Javi made you sit down on the couch.

“We have the whole day to ourselves. What do you want to do?”

You knew that Javi wanted to have a movie marathon for a while and you just wanted a break from work. So you suggested it.

“How about a movie?”

Javier lit up. That was the exact answer he wanted. He put on a movie and cuddled into your side on the couch. The two of you spent the rest of the day watching movies and relaxing.

Javier Peña

You flopped down on the couch with a huff. Another day. Another lead that goes nowhere. Being a detective was hard and Javier knew that you took your job very seriously. But he wished that sometimes you would give yourself a break. You had gotten home from the precinct an hour ago and you hadn’t moved from your spot on the couch since then. Javier looked up from the files on the table and saw that you still hadn’t moved. You hadn’t said a word either. Javier loved to hear how your day went and the silence was eating him up.

“Are you okay, baby?”

Javier asked, sounding slightly worried. You stayed quiet, not bothering to speak. You were tired and stressed and you just wanted this case to be over so you could get it out of your head. Javier got up and walked over to the couch. He knelt down and brushed a hand through your mussed hair. You kept your eyes closed and your mouth shut. Javier knew that you weren't asleep but he kept quiet anyway. He slowly rubbed circles on your back and whispered comforting things to you. He needed to make sure you were alright before he could do any of his work.

“You need me to get you anything?”

Javier asked, knowing he probably wouldn’t get a response. But to his surprise, you shook your head. No words but a response nonetheless. He smiled softly before kissing your forehead and getting back to the table. He turned on your favorite TV show before he got back to work. The small things Javier did for you always made you feel appreciated. You finally got up from your prone position on the couch and walked over to Javier. You kissed the top of his head and walked back into the bedroom. Although it was a stressful week, you were glad you had Javier with you to make it better.

Din Djarin

Another bounty caught. This one took you days to find. You turned in the bounty and started back to your ship. You could think of nothing except getting back to Nevarro. You missed your boys. Once you got back, Grogu was the first one to greet you. He babbled happily when you hopped out of your ship.

“Hey buddy. Did you behave while I was gone?”

You asked the little guy as he hobbled over to you. You picked him up happily and looked around, knowing that Din would be close by. He was sitting on the porch of your shared little house. He was watching you and Grogu and you knew he had a smile on his face even through his helmet. You put Grogu down, letting him follow behind you when you went to go sit with Din on the porch. You let out a sigh as you sat down next to him. 

He turned his head to face you. Neither of you had to say anything. He knew you had a rough week just by the look on your face and the tone of your voice when you talked to the kid. You leaned your head back against the house and took a deep breath in. Din grabbed your hand and held it in his. He had taken off his gloves. You let the deep breath out and smiled. You were home.

I'm just now realizing that the request included singing. I am so sorry. I didn't read that until I went through my inbox. Again hope this is alright 😅

[callsign-joyride]

Could I request prompts 9 and 13 with Javier for Summer of Smut please?

Object of My Desire | Javier Peña

Summary: Being forced to share a room with Javier while traveling was less than ideal. It was even more of a nuissance when you had to share a bed.

Content warnings: SMUT (18+), oral (f receiving), protected p in v

Prompts: “Stop wiggling around, I’m trying to sleep! Wait… what’s tha… oh!” + “I know you said no marks… But what if I put them where nobody except for me will see them?”

Author's note: This is my first time writing for Javier. I made some changes to my taglist form but I will still be tagging people from my TGM part of the taglist. If you don't want to be tagged in my Javier stuff, let me know.

This was written for my Summer of Smut writing event. Feel free to send in requests!

Taglist form (Google form, email is not asked)

You fucking hated traveling with Javier Peña. Aside from the fact that he was generally annoying to be around, he liked to backseat everything that he wasn’t in charge of. You wanted to travel alone but Steve wouldn’t allow it, saying that it’d be “too dangerous” even though you had the same training and experience. Needless to say, you were almost at the end of your fuse when the plane landed. You wanted to sleep on the plane but Javi wouldn’t shut up about how horrible the pilot was. (You didn’t even think he knew how to fly a plane, anyways.) When you tried to read your book, he still wouldn’t stop complaining about everything and a baby started crying. There was a moment of relief as you checked into the hotel for the night.

“You got lucky tonight, miss. This is our last room available,” the lady at the front desk said. You smiled and took the room keys, handing one to Javi and making your way to the elevator with your bag. Javi ended up being in front of you as you walked to the room, so he was the first one. He opened the door to the room and laughed, and you knew that couldn’t have been a good sign.

“Get out of the way. I wanna see what’s so funny,” you said as you shoved him and blindly walked into the room.

There was only one bed. Of course there was. The receptionist never clarified that. She probably thought that you and Javi were a couple.

“Give me that phone book. I’m calling other hotels,” you said as you sat on the bed.

“I’m sure they’re all booked out, too. Plus do you really think the government is gonna pay for you to get a room by yourself?”

“You’re an insufferable asshole. I’m not sleeping with you. I’ll pay for a room myself if that’s what it takes.”

“Fine. Have fun trying to look for hotels. I’ll be right here if you need anything,” he said as he laid on the bed and started reading his book. He was trying not to laugh as you sounded angrier by the minute. You put the phone on the receiver for the last time and glared at him.

“Well, I just called every hotel within a ten mile radius and they’re all booked out. Congratulations on being right, I guess.”

You started to unpack your things while Javi flipped through the channels on the TV. Most restaurants were closed when you checked in to the hotel, but Javi offered to go and get some tacos from one of the food trucks in the area. It took a few minutes of arguing for him to finally leave on his own. You laid on the bed with the phone and the receiver on your chest, dialing Steve and Connie’s number, hoping that someone would pick up. Connie picked up and, even though you loved talking to her, you were more focused on yelling at Steve.

“Can you put your husband on the phone? I’m gonna kill him,” you said. She chuckled and you heard some mumbling before Steve’s voice was in your ear.

“How was the trip?” He asked.

“Murphy, you’re fucking dead. First of all, Peña likes to think that he can control everything. He wouldn’t shut up on the plane about how ‘it’s not how you’re supposed to fly’. Does he even know how to fly a plane? And then we get to the hotel and the receptionist tells us that it’s the last room available. There’s only one bed in this hell hole. I spent thirty minutes calling every hotel within a ten mile radius and they were all booked, too.”

You rolled your eyes as Steve laughed on the other end of the phone.

“Wait a minute, did you plan this?” You asked.

“What if I did? Give him a chance. He’s not as bad once you get to know him.”

“I think he is. You didn’t have to suffer on a six hour flight with him next to you, babbling about how horrible it is that things aren’t going his way. Guys like him are why I like to do all of my work alone. He might be on his way back. I might kill someone.”

Steve chuckled.

“You’re not gonna kill anyone. Have fun. I’ll see you in a couple days, okay?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Javi came back with tacos and you quickly ate before getting your pajamas and heading for the shower. He had his eyes on you as you opened the door to the bathroom to let the cool air in while you brushed your teeth.

“Those are your pajamas?” He asked as he gestured to the tank top and shorts that you were wearing. You spit your toothpaste into the sinking and rinsed off your toothbrush, leaving it on the counter. 

“Yeah. I didn’t think it’d be a problem. This is what I always sleep in,” you said.

“You might as well not be wearing pants, princesa.”

It was going to be a miracle if both of you walked out of the room in the morning with both of your lives intact at this point.

“Don’t be a pig, Peña.”

You decided to read the book that you brought until you were going to fall asleep. Javi got up and brushed his teeth and took his clothes off at some point, but you were too invested in your book to notice.

“What are you reading, anyways?” He asked. You showed him the cover of the book while you were still reading.

“A western? Are you serious?”

You sighed and put the book down.

“I bought it at the airport because I knew I’d need something to do.”

“You didn’t get a classic like Frankenstein or Pride and Prejudice?”

“I can’t believe you just put those in the same sentence. And no, I didn’t, because I wanted something that would actually keep me entertained. Look at where that got me. I couldn’t sleep or read on the plane so, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna turn my light off and go to bed. I hope you do the same. At least you’ll be quiet.”

“Ouch.”

Javi turned off his lamp and wrapped his arms around you once he got in the bed. You didn’t object. It felt nice to be held by someone. But you couldn’t get to sleep because he wouldn’t stop wiggling around.

“Will you stop wiggling around? I’m trying to sleep. What’s - oh.”

Now that you had drawn attention to it, you were both aware that Javi was turned on. You could feel his length press up against your ass but you weren’t sure if you wanted to do anything about it. You were almost positive that you’d scoot away from him and act like it never happened, but it seemed like Javi had other things in mind as he turned you in his arms so that you were facing him. He took your hand in his and guided it to the bulge in his boxers. The primal urge to kiss him took over and you pulled him in by the hair on the back of his neck. The kiss was a battle of tongues and teeth as he slid your shorts and panties down your legs. He shoved his boxers down and rested his cock against the inside of your thigh.

“So wet for me,” he said as he rubbed his fingers between your folds. He started to kiss your neck and you winced and yanked his head away as he started to suck on your sweet spot.

“You can’t leave marks. We gotta work, y’know?”

He sighed, “alright.” 

He lifted your leg onto his shoulder and left kisses down your chest. You let out a shaky breath as he was level with your glistening cunt. His mouth was on you in an instant and you would’ve been lying if you said it didn’t feel good. He looked into your eyes while he ate your pussy like a starved man and you started moving your hips with the rhythm of his tongue. Your thighs tightened around his head as you came when he ran his tongue along your clit.

“You’re so pretty when you cum,” he said.

“Want you inside of me.”

Javi nodded his head and got up to grab his wallet. He pulled a condom out and put it on the nightstand before standing in between your legs and leaning down to kiss you. He stopped for a moment to slide the condom on and move you up the bed with a pillow under your back for extra support.

“Fuck,” he said as he eased himself inside of you, “I know you said no marks, but what if I put them where no one except for me will see them?” He asked. You moaned a yes and he was beginning to slowly thrust while he put love bites on your chest.

“Fuck - please, go faster,” you said. He nodded and groaned into your ear when he started to really pick up the pace.

“You’re so tight. I don’t know if I’m gonna last,” he said. 

“It’s okay. You’re big and I’m already close.”

Javi nodded and started thrusting into you faster. His thrusts became more erratic and you knew he was close. You wrapped your legs around his hips while he rubbed your clit, making both of you cum. He laid with his head in the crook of your neck for a few minutes before pulling out of you and throwing the condom away in the bathroom trash can. He came back with a warm towel and helped you clean up before going back to holding you in his arms.

“I wonder how long it’ll take for Murphy to notice,” he said.

“Don’t say that.”

Steve didn’t need to figure it out. You let it slip to Connie when you were getting drinks one night and she obviously told him. Only, you didn’t know that until he strolled by your desk one morning saying, “What did I say? He’s not so bad once you get to know him,”.

Taglist:

@littlebadariell @cycbaby @luckyladycreator2 @idontcare-11 @blue-aconite @maverick-wingman @shawty-fenty @littlemisstopgun @rosiahills22 @katieshook02 @justanothermagicalsara @caitsymichelle13 @smoothdogsgirl @adoringsebstan @cherrycola27 @alexxavicry @mrsjaderogers @mak-32 @thefandomimagines @tallrock35 @caatheeriinee07 @bradshawseresinbabe @atarmychick007 @3sriracha @genius2050 @halstead-severide-fan @withakindheartx

[for-a-longlongtime]

Songs and musings in the Key of Peña-Rockford

(Those gun holsters have me all fucked up. Seriously.)

I warned y'all about how obsessive my hyperfocus can get, right? Damn ADHD. The choke hold (all the puns intended) that this fic idea has on me is unreal, haha. But all of your comments and encouragements about this Rockford Pena WIP are making me so happy and relieving some of the stress I feel about writing it - thank you! I don't have another snippet to share just yet (so I hope this post isn't too much of a cock tease), but since I always love to read about character thots and writing processes (e.g. the extra posts by @mysterious-moonstruck-musings about her Destiny & Deliverance series, and @gracieispunk with her White Lotus posts), I figured I'd post a little update with some musings and songs I'm associating with this fic.

My Spotify currently is curated by @sin-djarin, who somehow knew just the right songs that relate to this WIP. Particularly these three tracks are on constant repeat. Going back and forth with her about little things that come up, or question ‘why this and not’ has been so much fun really. It makes me giddy because it turns the fic into something collaborative rather than just something from the inside of my brain, you know?

Whisper - Morphine

I included this track the other day already with the WIP snippet; it’s sexy and slow and that bass line really gets to me, then the saxophone ups it even more. @sin-djarin sent me several Morphine songs (I have to admit that somehow I wasn’t familiar with them) but this one stands out. The push and pull that’s happening in the lyrics is also delicious, and a lot of it feels like it’s coming from Rockford’s POV about Javi - that’s all I’ll say about it for now.

A Perfect Twist - Mike Patton

This song has an exuberant, rather bombastic vibe to it that I would’ve never associated with anything related to Peña. Although, those lyrics... they are definitely about brat taming.

I'll bend you over my knee Let's see what you can take You're never gonna break

And I'll squeeze that noose a little tighter Breathing like a snake How much can you take? You're never gonna break

And I'll turn those screws a little tighter You can hardly wait You're never gonna break

Just one more twist of the pliers Got you on the brink How much can you take? You're never gonna break

There’s something about the dizzying tune and pace that somehow evokes the noir-like Rockford vibes in the Merge Mansion clips, laced with liquor and cigarette smoke and things spinning kinda out of control.

Wait who said Masquerade Mansion? 🎭

In relation to these two?

Shhhh let’s pretend you didn’t see that. Keep your eyes wide shut. 🎭

Broad Daylight - Gabriel Rios

This is the only song that suddenly came to me re: this fic, and I was all… the fuck is this. I like the song, it's catchy, but it just didn’t make any sense to me with regard to Javi and Tim. The only thing I could think of in relation to the track was maybe a vague reference of Peña getting caught up with Los Pepes, things that were done in the dark and shouldn't come out in the daylight:

Back in the old days, tight like a fight Used to hang with the devil in the broad daylight

But still, it puzzled me. I think something in one of the Morphine songs musically led me to Broad Daylight, weird as that may sound. After way too many replays of that song (and @sin-djarin joking about 'what are those Polaroids Tim has on Javi?', since the song mentions polaroids), the relevance of the song finally clicked with me;

Look at you shaking you can't find his plight Got you scared of ghosts in the dead of night While you're making up stories trying to make it ok He'll be bringing them in to let them out and play In the broad daylight

We'll see how it goes from there.

At some point, there's also going to be a bit of Marcus Pike in the fic (pancakes!). I have to be honest - I don’t really read a lot of Marcus!fic, so I’ve been trying to figure out how he fits in and some of his character traits etc. But the wonderful @secretelephanttattoo was very quick to offer me some insights about Marcus that I needed! Go read it here.

TBH, I had absolutely not planned to write anything about Peña any time soon, because why I love him in canon and in the many fics I've read, I didn't exactly feel like I had a good enough handle on writing something about him that has some plot rather than just fucking. But then this fic idea popped up. If there's anyone who knows him really well, it's @goodwithcheese (you'd better be reading her incredible new story Paranoid Heart about Javi!). So I dropped some questions and fortunately she was totally up for some character chat right here, which is really helping me figure out some things. Thank you babe, and I hope more people will contribute thots to your 1K Celebration Confessional about their sins!

Also, I've been trying to put a time and place to the fic, but I've decided to not get too hung up about that because it's really not literature but Fic/Porn With Plot. It doesn't all have to make sense. But in case you're curious, I'm leaning towards this taking place in the US in recent enough times that smartphones are a thing.

Age wise, I'm seeing Tim Rockford as being 48/50 years old probably. Javier is about 40, 41 years old - just to give you an idea of 'which Javi' I'm looking at, I've got a sense of him as he is in Narcos S2 around episode 4-9, after Carillo is murdered, and Berna takes him to see Judy Moncada.

Reader insert (I know, I haven't spoken a lot about her yet!) is probably about 40 years old too. And finally, Marcus Pike is give r take about 37 years old, which corresponds with his Mentalist appearance.

BTW, I came across an edit that had all of the Tim Rockford bits from the ads without the additional stuff. A whopping total of 48 seconds. Man, I hope that Pedro is aware of how fucked up he has us about Rockford with less than a minute of his acting. Even my wife said 'I would totally watch a show or movie based on this character' when I played the Merge Mansion ads for her.

Finally, here's a video of Pedro talking about "real fantasy fullfillment in terms of getting to immerse yourself in an experience" and how he "loves being a detective, that's fantasy fullfilment for me" re: the Merge Mansion event day.

*hits replay*

Say 'fantasy fullfillment' one more time? Respectfully.

Like I said, I hope he knows how fucked up he has us all about Rockford. I sure am glad he did these ads and whatever he got paid, it sure wasn't enough.

---------------------------------------------------------

Updated tag list (comment if you want to be added, or if I added you by accident!) based on folks who commented/reblogged on the prev posts:

@sin-djarin @legendary-pink-dot @imalrightllama @secretelephanttattoo @rhoorl @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @trulybetty @goodwithcheese @linzels-blog @rifflovesjoey @maggiemayhemnj @magpiepills @youandmeand5bucks @morallyinept @5oh5 @missredherring @avastrasposts @anavatazes @imaswellkid @pedrit0-pascalit0 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @survivingandenduring @boliv-jenta @prolix-yuy @sheepdogchick3 @inept-the-magnificent @northernwindd @alltheglitterandtheroar @readingiskeepingmegoing @txlady37 @rebel-held @alwaysmicado @heareball @clawdee @covetyou @bellsbluebrd @alltheglitterandtheroar @axshadows @casa-boiardi @bastardmandennis @stealyourblorbos @chronically-ghosted @katw474 @beabliss @nerdieforpedro

I don't know why some usernames don't seem to link when I try to tag them, btw. Does anyone have any suggestions on how to fix this?

[matcha-kathrin]

STRANGERS - Chapter 3

Summary: You meet the stranger. Again. Two times was silly, but now three times? And of all places, you really had to meet in a laundromat in the dead of night. Although, something is changing, You fear you might no longer be strangers, after all. 

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader. 

Notes/Warnings: Eyyyy no warnings, just a lot of deep talks and slight fluff. I say fluff but these two have basically just touched hands like ONCE so. I did put a bit of characterization onto the reader I hope ya’ll don’t mind, it’s for story sake. Also by now im fully convinced the reader is just blind cuz there is no way you wouldn’t recognize Pedro right away. Humor me though.

Word Count: 3.5k

Please read Part One and Part Two before proceeding.

~*~

STRANGERS - Chapter Three

 The one thing you hated about living in New York was how hard it was for apartments to come with washers and driers. Now you weren’t picky, a washer by itself would’ve been enough, but not having either? It was hell. Mostly because you had to walk down the street from your apartment to the closest laundromat there was, pray that not all the machines were occupied, and that by some miracle your clothes didn’t get ruined halfway through the wash. You hated laundry day.

Or more like night. You were hauling your big plastic grocery bag filled with all of your dirty clothes over your shoulders, the slightly chilly air making you see your breath clearly in front of you. You didn’t mean to lose track of time but as soon as you clocked out from your day job the sun was nowhere to be seen and dinner time had passed. And if you didn’t wash your clothes before the day was well and gone…you’d be ruined. Your fate may very well be hanging in the balance.

It was quite funny actually, as you made your way clumsily through the street you saw the yellow sign of your usual laundromat and you were filled with comfort. Your mom used to tell you how laundromats were a place where you were destined to meet people. Other people just like you, who were broke or had no washer, who were just trying to get by in such a big, lively city as this. Or maybe it was a place where you were destined to waste two hours of your time waiting for your clothes to get washed, only for them to freeze in the night air on your way back home.

Maybe she was right, you had always thought that the most mundane places held beauty within them, that any story could begin in a dull, brightly lit laundromat. Maybe it was the hour and maybe you were a bit sentimental but there was something magical about how the blinding light shone out of the windows and onto the damp street as you approached. The empty benches inside making you ease up, at least you didn’t have to deal with spending two hours meeting people as your mom romanticized you would. There was something about the contrast from the windows and the dark streets that held a suspense in the air. As if once you’d click on the machine time would stop, the songs playing in your headphones the only proof of time passing. And for a moment, a brief, eternal moment you’d be the only person in the world. Alone. Sitting in a laundromat.

As you opened the door, struggling to get in with the huge bag on your shoulders the bell that hung above you rung, signaling your entrance. Why a self-service laundromat even had a bell was beyond you.

Unfortunately, the sound was ultimately what ruined your expectations for the night. Because for some crazy reason you weren’t alone. And as soon as the bell had rung the head you saw peaking from behind one of the rows of washing machines looked up. You had to double take.

“No fucking way.” You spoke, the silence that had engulfed the small self-service store broken by your disbelief “Are you stalking me?” You asked as you looked at the all too familiar stranger with concern.

He looked at you from under his…again his sunglasses and squinted, as if he couldn’t make out your face from the other side of the cramped room. Once he did realize who you were his brows lifted, also looking completely and utterly dumbfounded.

“Are you stalking me?” he countered.

“This is my laundromat!”

“I don’t see your name on it.”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny.” You sighed, dragging your overflowing bag until you reached one of the tables, lifting it up in a huff and letting it fall with a low thud. “What are you even doing here at this hour?”

“My washer broke, what are you doing here at this hour?” The way he repeated your questions with a small smirk irked you, but then again you were glad it was him and not some other strange man. Of course, the one standing in front of you in what looked like his pajamas wearing those godforsaken glasses was looking stranger by the second. But even with his ridiculous clothing and his even messier hair you couldn’t help the feeling that settled in your stomach when you locked eyes.

There had to be something wrong with you. You thought the second time you spoke not even a week ago was just a silly coincidence. A beautiful silly coincidence in which you wished you had stayed longer, but as you recalled it a small feeling of anxiety settled in you. If you had stayed then the night would have ended differently. Very differently. The mere thought of it making you shudder.

These coincidences were getting a bit too numerous for it not to be weird. Then again he did look like a man who’s washer had broken.

“I happen to not own a washer, thank you very much.” You answered finally, looking at him with suspicion, as if he had planned this whole encounter all along.

“Don’t look at me like that my washer really did break! In the middle of a cycle too, I couldn’t just leave dirty wet clothes laying around the house.” He laughed nervously; he was probably worried you actually thought him to be a stalker. Little did he know you were very good at reading people, you knew he wasn’t ill intentioned. You could tell by his absolute puzzled look he had on his face when you walked it. That or maybe because you noticed the slight glee that came afterwards when he realized it was you.

He watched you pull out your clothes and stuff them in what seemed to be the cleanest washer there was, as you hummed, unconvinced by his plea. “I suppose. But I’m keeping my eye on you.”

“No complaints from me.” He smiled, but when you sent him a look it just dropped, and he averted his gaze.

You really didn’t mean to be so defensive, but it was really late, and the whole situation was really weird.

“What about you?” he asked after a moment, and you sighed again.

“I told you I don’t have a washer.”

“And you had to wash your clothes tonight did you?” He arched his brow, this time he was the one who was unconvinced. You pursed your lips, if only he knew why you so desperately needed to get this done. The reason for your nightly adventure happened into your hand then, a beautiful dress, one that was gifted to you. He noticed the way you hesitated when you pulled it out and saw how fast you threw it in the washer with the rest of your clothes.

“That looks pretty, is that why you need to wash your clothes so desperately?” He chuckled, you hadn’t noticed he had gotten closer until he sat on the bench next to you, looking up at you in interest.

“No.” You replied quickly, then huffed “Yes I – I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

“What is?”

“Me. Being here at this hour, trying to wash a stupid dress I probably won’t even get to wear.” You didn’t realize just how much the whole thing disturbed you, and your dear stranger was looking at you so utterly confused. If he could’ve chosen the worst moment to come to your laundromat, it was this. You were probably on the verge of breakdown; but you’d be damned if you’d let anyone, let alone him, see.

“When were you going to wear it?” His voice was soft, not amused by your little fit of emotions but almost…concerned? It was warm as it rung low, and somehow you had instantly felt better. Or worse, you couldn’t decide.

“Tomorrow night. I have…” You hesitated, looking at him as if choosing your next words carefully “an event to attend. I was going to get it washed properly but I lost track of time, knowing my luck it’ll probably get ruined halfway through the wash.” You placed the rest of the clothing inside the machine and shut it well, inserting the coins and detergent it needed and then pressed the button to start it up.

Then you plopped down next to him, not caring if you were sitting a tad bit too close to the stranger, a distance no two strangers would ever sit at. He just watched you as you did.

“I’ll just wear something else. It’s not that important.”

“It sounds important.” He nudged, his words letting you know you could find solace in speaking with him. You smiled tiredly.

“It’s just a hobby. I shouldn’t even get so worked up about it.”

“A hobby can still be important.” He mused.

“Not if you’re like me. Not if you need to have infinite things to do or else you feel completely meaningless.” You exaggerated, even though it was mostly true. He just chuckled, looking at your frustrated expression with affection.

“All my life they told me I had to pick one thing. One thing to do the rest of my life and be satisfied with it. Concentrate on one thing if you want to be successful.” You continued, his smile slowly fading as he heard the bitter tone you had.

“Who told you?”

“Anyone. Everyone. But did I listen? Of course not, I just had to move here and believe I could have it all, work on anything I desired and somehow be good at all of it. The best even.”

He hummed, his shoulder slightly brushing against yours as you let your head rest on the back of the window looking out to the street, the red bench was worn and uncomfortable under you. You could even see the paint chipping at its edges. Although somehow with him by your side, it felt like the most comfortable place on earth.

“Sounds like you’re ambitious. That’s one more thing I know of you now.”

“That and that I don’t own a washer. Or a drier.” You scoffed.

“Well at least you know mines broken. That makes us even.”

“I feel better already.” You quipped sarcastically, he nudged your shoulder playfully when you did, making you smile.

“I don’t think it’s wrong you know, doing many different things. I- I’ve done a lot of different things too.” He added almost shyly, and you turned your head to look at him, surprised by his sudden bashfulness.

“Are you any good at them?” You asked almost by default. He didn’t seem like the type to be ambitious, then again you didn’t really know what he seemed like.

“I- yeah. I am.” He sounded unsure, his words truthful but as his eyes met yours he squinted slightly, as if he couldn’t quite understand something. You just frowned. Choosing to ignore the exceedingly small distance between you.

“Well at least one of us is.” You sighed.

“Do you really not know who I am?” The question falling from his lips even before he could catch himself, your brows furrowed. And you remembered once again just how familiar he looked.

“I don’t think so, am I supposed to?”

“Not necessarily.” It was his turn to sigh, his shades dropped loosely on his nose couldn’t hide the fact he seemed almost…disappointed?

“Do you know who I am?” You asked, still unsure if he might be stalking you or not. But your very sincere question was met with a bark of laughter.

“I wish. But no, I don’t.” His answer made your heart skip a slight bit faster, he wished he knew you? Or maybe he wished you were exactly as you appeared to be. Expectations could be a dangerous thing.

“So, what is this hobby that’s got you so down? Doesn’t sound like a good one.”

“It’s not the hobby that is the problem,” You chuckled finally, feeling the heat that had rose to your cheeks slightly subside “it’s the fact I can’t dedicate as much time to it as I’d want.”

He waited patiently for you to continue, even though you had hoped he’d let the question drop. For strangers’ sake and all that. But you were too tired and, just as you suspected, time seemed to stand still in the brightly lit laundromat. If you sat still enough you could hear the light buzz of the lamps illuminating the both of you. They never flickered but the sound made you think that at any moment the light would just go out. And you’d be there, in the dark, sitting awfully close to the stranger until your shoulders touched. Feeling the heat emanating from him pass on to you. The line you both had chosen not to cross the only thing keeping you both in your place. But you wondered if in the dark you’d risk it all, maybe in the darkness you’d feel less accountable, less exposed. Maybe you had already crossed the line a while ago, you weren’t really sure when.

“I- it’s a student film screening. It’s some sort of small film festival that’s gonna be held tomorrow night.”

“You study film?” He seemed surprised, you laughed nervously at his question.

“No…I actually- am in it.” You admitted shyly, your hands rubbing on your knees as you pulled them to your chest, you don’t know why but every time you admitted you acted on the side it sounded so stupid. But you loved it, even if it was just a hobby you dedicated little to no time in.

“You’re in the film? You act?” He sounded so astonished you had to lift your head from its resting position and look at him curiously.

“Yeah? I mean, I just dabble in it.” You shrugged, “Stupid isn’t it?”

“No, of course not! It’s good to have hobbies like that.” He reassured, you felt the small knot in your stomach loosen as he did, you don’t know why but his approval seemed important to you. Even if you didn’t know his name. It was comforting, that much you knew.

“I guess,” you lulled, not convinced but much more at ease that he didn’t laugh at you “I guess I just…feel like if I don’t do things I won’t matter. I’m terrified that if I try my hardest I still won’t be good enough. I’m terrified that if- that if I don’t give my life a meaning then there’s no point to all of-” You stopped, looking around yourself, word failing to meet your thoughts “this.”

“And maybe I’m wrong, maybe I’m wrong to think I can be satisfied only by pursuing whatever fool-hardy thing that pops into my head, but what should I do? Not try?” You continued after a moment. And you worried you said too much. You worried that no matter how you twisted the words around your sentiment you would never get it across. The feeling in itself was not something you could explain, it was nothing and everything. It was an overwhelming desire for everything and nothing. You weren’t even sure what you wanted in the first place.

His gaze had softened as you rambled, he didn’t see you as the type to get so lost in questions of meaning or importance. In fact, when he had met you in the two separate bars you seemed like the only person who knew your place, enjoying the vibrance of the lives all around you. Yet here you were, spilling so much uncertainty he couldn’t help but look at you with sullen eyes. How he wished he could comfort you, but to you he was no one, and he liked that he meant nothing to you, but hated it at the same time.

“To live a creative life, we must lose our fear of being wrong.” He cited, and you hummed. Your thoughts dying down and blurring with the sounds of the machines. “Who said that?”

“Can’t remember. But it’s true. If you’re afraid that what you’re doing is wrong you’ll never get to where you need to go. I think it’s amazing when someone can wake up each day and reinvent themselves, and who said you can’t? Whomever it was only knows what they have lived, and if they’ve lived a life doing one thing then good for them, but that doesn’t mean you have to.” You looked at him as he finished, as if you couldn’t really believe he was there. He was the first person who told you anything of the sort. The first to say you didn’t have to do what everyone else was doing if you didn’t want to. It made you want to keep him there, with you. You wanted to hear his low voice whisper into your ear all night. Feel his hands feverishly caress your skin.

But you pushed the feeling aside.

“The world is your oyster.” You snorted, and he huffed out a laugh alongside you, nodding. It was funny, but you didn’t really know when you had reached the point where you two could joke after spilling intense thoughts about life. But maybe that���s what it had always been from the start. Just two strangers contemplating notions they would rather share then keep to themselves, only to tease and joke about it after. Maybe it was a way to cope with the fact that you’ll never have the answers. You’ll never know if what your doing is right or wrong, and maybe that was okay. Maybe you didn’t need to know. Maybe just existing, in this space as time seem suspended, next to a stranger in an empty laundromat was enough. For the first time, you felt okay simply existing.

“Can I come?” He asked finally, his voice so low you almost didn’t hear him over the sound of the machines. You had gotten lost in your thoughts, your eyes following the swirling of the washer in front of you, until he spoke, and they snapped to his.

“What?”

“Can I come- to the event. Tomorrow night.”

You looked at him incredulously, this was uncharted territory, and it was making your heart pick up in your chest. “I don’t even know if I’m going. My dress will probably still be drying by tomorrow night.”

“I bet you it’ll dry in time.” He smirked, and you couldn’t help but narrow your eyes in amusement.

“Oh yeah? What’re we betting then?” You whispered, leaning in slightly. You could’ve sworn his eyes had lowered for a moment to your lips. But when you blinked they were looking straight into your eyes again. You must’ve imagined it.

“Hmm…” He clearly pretended to think about it for a moment, turning his head and placing a finger on his chin in thought. For some reason you knew already what he was going to say.

“If your dress is dry by tomorrow nights’ event- you’ll tell me your name.”

You froze. You knew it was coming yet you did nothing to stop it. Maybe you didn’t want to, because the way he gazed at you while your brain processed the bet was enough to convince you. Maybe it would be different, this time. Maybe you didn’t have to play a game just to keep things interesting. Not everything had to be, and certainly not with him. He was always there in the perfect moments, the perfect encounters. It was like meeting someone that had nothing to do with you and talk as if you had known each other forever. Granted you did most of the talking, he tended to just sit there and tease.

You didn’t mind. And you didn’t think he did either.

“Fine. But if my dress is not dry by then I win, and you’ll have to tell me yours.”  

He didn’t answer, just shrugged, and extended his hand for you to shake. You lifted yours and clasped it gently around his, once again relishing in the feeling of his skin against yours. You’d never figure out why he had that effect on you. He just did.

After you shook hands gently, competing in one of your many staring contests, you both shared a moment of comfortable silence looking at the two washers moving out of sync in front of you, one with his clothes, one with yours.

“You’d really come to see my film?” The way you asked, your voice full of disbelief, made his heart break a little.

“Of course.” He answered, never meaning something so much as he did then. You weren’t looking at him, and he wasn’t looking at you, but he could see the small smile that had formed on your lips from the corner of his eyes. No matter what it took he was going to that event, and if he could, he’d win the bet.

Even if it was utterly out of his control.

[assassinmidnight]

I just got this intese need to ride Javi into the fucking dirt, so here.

Javier Pèna x F!Reader

Warnings: smut, unprotected piv(wrap your warp pipe people)

“There you go hermosa, slowly now, don’t want you to hurt yourself”

Evenings like this were your favourite. Just you and Javi after a long day at work for him and a long day at school for you. When you came home today, Javi was already making dinner, the smell of his pasta reaching your nose the second you opened the door. Normally you’d be home first, cleaning up the little apartment before starting dinner but today your study session had stretched later into the evening. 

“No, Javi, baby please” you whimpered, gripping his shoulders and increasing your pace.

You didn’t know what had come over you when you came home, but seeing Javi in the kitchen cooking dinner for you, and then seeing him smile as you complimented it, it made you needy. The fact that he put so much effort into making you food and then that fucking smile that could make a priest sin, it was overwhelming. You’d pushed him onto the couch in the living room and immediately taken off his pants.

“Woha baby, what's come over you?” Javi chuckled, surprised by his girl’s eagerness, when no reply came he helped you out before trying to remove your clothes as well, he didn't get far however as you only had the patience to remove the clothes from your lower body before jumping his bones.

And now here you were, riding him into oblivion. Letting out whines and moans of his name while gripping his shoulders hard enough to leave bruises. Too caught up in your own pleasure, you didn't see his love sick face, how his eyes seemed glazed over with affection as he witnessed your absolute need for him. He was the one who couldn't wait to have you on the bed, undressed and spread out. But here you were, using him for the first time ever, so eager that you didn't even give yourself a chance for foreplay. He was mesmerised, it made him hard, knowing that you could crave him as carnally as he craved you.

“Javi” the shaking in your voice was a tell-tale sign of your oncoming orgasm, so was the tremors in your legs and the fluttering of your walls. 

“Gonna come for me cariño?” your lover smirked, enjoying the feel of you pulsing around him. Nodding furiously at him, you put all your weight on one arm to let the other snake down towards your clit. “Let me,” Javi said, using his thumb to draw circles on your clit. 

Immediately stiffening up you let out a cry as the pleasure hits you like a train, stars bursting behind your eyes as your lover lets out a groan of your name.

[dolly-on-the-dotted-line]

Interlude: Dumbstruck

You face up to a very adult problem in Javi’s absence that leaves you questioning your future forever.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Angst, Discussion of Pregnancy, Pregnancy Loss, Miscarriage, Medical Setting.

A/N: Major trigger warning for this one. If you don't want to read this post, you will not lose anything from the story. There are no major plot developments or changes in their relationship. You can skip it out, or if you'd like a summary I will happily send you one. Further discussion under the cut.

Major confession that I've had this sat in the drafts for... years now due to the above, and not yet having anything lighter ready to publish to follow up... But today is the day. And happier things soon after!!

I've kept descriptors to a minimum for obvious reasons, as well as the fact that this is obviously only one experience based on personal anecdote- please don't take this as gospel, nor a universal experience. This was originally planned to be a whole chapter but I was struggling with the heavy themes and aware that it's not everyone's cup of tea. However, I still felt like it added some important insight so wanted to keep it in some capacity so have decided to post it anyway. Keeping it as an 'interlude' also felt quite representative of the experience, in the sense that often it's an event that happens unbeknownst to people on the outside, but is a weight you carry with you. Reader/ Bug will carry on with the knowledge of that experience with her, but others will continue to move on around her none the wiser, and you can choose to do the same if it's a post you don't wish to read.

New York, Spring, Age 30: Dumbstruck

The dial tone lasts for an eternity, you’re sure. You try to focus on the way your heartbeat thrums between the beeps, double time nearly, thud, thud, thud, like a bird throwing itself against a glass pane. The skin at the edge of your fingernail is worn clean, blood starting to pool in the cuticle. 

You hear the scrape of the receiver being lifted and a voice finally calls, the raspy accent filling the line.

“This is Murphy.” 

“Hey Steve, can I speak to Javi, please? Now. I need to speak to him now.” 

“Bug? Are you alright? You sound like you've seen a ghost. If that were possible.”

Your interactions with Steve Murphey so far had been limited.

By that, you meant you had spoken to him on the phone maybe twice, and on both occasions, you were trying to get through to Javier. The fact he’s able to recognise you immediately in spite of that is intriguing to you, and at any other moment, you’d take the time to consider the tone of affection he takes with you in just one sentence. 

You try to keep your tone light but it’s impossible, the panic rising up in you like a tidal wave. You must sound worse than you think because he’s onto it in a second.  

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you mumble to yourself and reach out to steady your frame against the wall in the hallway of your new apartment. 

“Now,” you seethe, losing your guard completely, the tears starting to bubble at your eyelids as you lean your head back in frustration to rest on the setting plaster. 

You hear the phone ripped from Murphy’s hand in a muffled frenzy and Javi’s there, breathing down the line. 

“Javi-”

“What is it? Are you hurt?”

You sob then, immediately, hearing his voice, the weight of the situation finally hitting you with full force. 

“I’m- I think I’m having a miscarriage,” you breathe, deadpan, utterly in shock as you hear the words pass your lips for the first time since you’d started to process.

“I can’t be sure, but…” your voice trails off quietly, giving up the guise. 

It had taken you long enough to get your head around, already stunting the phone call by at least ten minutes as it was. In reality, there was no ‘think’ about it. You knew. It was impossible not to know. 

Silence from the other end of the line. You hear something smash to the ground, Murphy’s indistinct words, the slow, rattling intake of Javi’s controlled breath. 

“You’re pregnant?” he asks slowly, quietly, as though the words are arriving before the thoughts that spur them. 

“No, I’m fucking not,” you yell between clenched teeth, trying to contain the overwhelming rage that’s bubbling up inside you. “Not now I’m not.” 

Another devastating pause, and you feel the way your fingers instinctively grip the cord of the phone a little tighter, awaiting his response. 

“Is it-?”

“Please, don’t,” you cut sorely, “don’t ask me that fucking stupid question right now. Javi, I’m so scared.”

You clap your hand to your mouth as the sobs start to pour out, giving in completely. The emotion is overwhelming, fear, shock, and surprise moving over you in relentless, intersecting waves, with no time to differentiate one from the next. 

“Okay,” he replies firmly, taking the wheel in the only way he knows how. “Okay, it’s going to be okay.”

His tone is strong and soothing, and you can’t help but lean into its gentle familiarity. You wanted to give it up, to give over to him entirely and let him make it all okay. 

“It must have been the couch,” he can’t help but shoot down the line, more to himself than to you. 

“Javier.” 

In the complex swell of your emotions, above all else you’re seething, unable to even fathom the possibilities surrounding what's happening right now.

You carrying his child. His baby. A life together, as forced as it may have been, suddenly wilting away without even a chance to romanticise the prospect. It was gone in the blink of an eye before you even knew you had it. 

You’re furious. Like everything else, it wasn’t fair.

“I need to go home,” you sigh, trying to brush away the tears with a shaking hand as you draw together some kind of plan in your head.

You were already compartmentalising, packing away the thoughts you couldn't give yourself even a moment to dwell on. 

“You need to go to the hospital. That’s the only place you need to be right now. I’ll call you straight back and I’ll be there as soon as I can but you need to get some help right now, baby. I need you to call someone who can help you out until I arrive.” 

‘Baby’. In the heat of the moment, it was always ‘Baby’. Like it was a slip of the tongue reserved for special occasions; weddings that weren’t even yours. Anniversaries. Children. 

But in your temperamental state, it knocks you sideways anyway, pushing you off kilter and bringing the tears to the brink again.

“Javi, please,” you keen, unsure of what you're even asking for.

You’re scared, achingly so, more so than you’d ever felt even when you were a child. This was something else, something new. You needed something stable and solid to hold on to, and he was a thousand miles away. 

“I know, baby, I know. But you need to do this, for me. Just be brave and I’ll be back on the line in just a tick. Just make the call.”

You slam your fist against the phone cradle in frustration, resetting the dial tone without another word, and thumb in the number without even looking at the keys. As always, it rings once. 

“Rosie?” Rasps Jack, ready and waiting, business smart except for the nickname, his favourite turn of phrase. 

“Emergency,” you eke out, sinking to the floor now as you feel the sensation start to sink in, heartbreak rather than consternation hitting for the first time. 

“Are you at home?” He’s deadly serious, the professional front fitting into place like a reflex. 

“Yes. Medical, call Ginger. I need an ETA of 10 or less. Hospital transfer, the car will do.”

“Are you safe? Are they still in the apartment?”

“No external risk. Code O0-,” you hold your breath for the final digit, finally making it a complete reality, “3. Potentially 3.3, I’m not sure right now, I can’t remember the ICD codes.” 

He hears your crying now. He understands. His heart breaks for you. 

“Rosie,” he breathes.  

“Please Jack, just deal with it. I’m failing every one of my training protocols right now, I know, but I just cannot handle what is happening right now. I can't do this.” 

“I’m on it. Stay put. Just stay by the phone. Breathe.”

You can hear his pager going off, the shuffling of the papers moving across his desk as he stands to leave.

“And whatever you do,”  he adds staunchly, “don’t look.” 

“‘Don’t look’?” you repeat, but when you lift your hand from the plasterwork where you’d been steadying yourself, you see it, the way the harsh red seeps into the porous craftsmanship. 

“How do you-”

“Just trust me, Darlin’. I’ll be there soon.” And the line rings dead. 

Left alone, truly alone, you slump to the ground and ruminate in comfortless solitude. In the quiet stagnation of your apartment, you can only defer so far. It's fruitless to fight it. For just a moment, you let yourself sit, and think, and wait.

Jack had barely left your side in the ER, vigilant and dutiful.

His straightforward attitude was soothing and efficient, and allowed for a rare moment of surrender as he handled the overwhelming process of the inpatient clinic. Sitting by his side, you took a quiet comfort in the way his personal concern occasionally bled into his unrelenting professionalism, appreciating every squeeze of your hand, each cup of cold coffee, and every form you didn't have to read and sign. 

When night came, Javi took his place, arriving on the first non-stop flight to Newark Liberty. He didn't even bring a backpack, just an unread paperback and his keys. 

You try to picture the two men crossing paths in the hallway, shaking hands, nodding heads.

They’d never met. What absurd circumstances to finally come face-to-face, each an urban legend in their own right.

When he climbs up next to you to hold you close to him in the hospital bed, jacket, shoes and badge still in place, you break, the sobs wrenching from your chest like nothing you’ve ever known. There was nothing to hide, nothing to lose. 

“Was it ours?” he eventually asks, his forehead never leaving your own, his voice a quiet whisper in the cavernous space of the dim room.

“Of course it was ours,” you sigh, bone-weary, drained and devastated. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t know,” you say, frankly, the candour obvious in your upfront sentiment. “I wasn’t due for a medical until next month.” 

“You didn’t suspect?”

“I’ve been busy. I didn’t really think, work has been a lot.” 

“Would you have kept it?” he asks, more tentative still, aware of how precariously close everything feels as he reels off his pressing questions. 

You hesistate, but not for long. 

“Yes, probably. I’m in love with the idea of it more than anything. It’s irrelevant now, but-”

“It’s not irrelevant," he interrupts quickly. "Don’t say that. How can something we made be irrelevant?” 

His fervour takes you back, even in its hushed whisper. 

“Made by accident,” you huff back frustratedlym “it’s not like we knew-”

“Well, so what? We’d have been just fine. I know that. It wouldn't have mattered. We-" 

“Mr. Peña," you hear from the open doorway, the tone firm but kind. "We don’t allow visitors overnight I’m afraid, only family.”

He doesn’t turn to the attendant before he replies, simply gripping you tighter, pressing his legs into yours as he holds your taut frame against his own.

“I am family.” 

“Alright then,” she replies without complaint, clearly not seeing the merit in pushing it. “I’ll see you both in the morning.”

You’d been alone for less than ten minutes before he came skulking back into the room, black coffee and another round of toast in hand.

He was reluctant to be away from you for longer than a minute at a time, you could tell. He used to get like this when you were sick, or when you’d be sent home to bed from gym with bad cramps. 

They’d said the tub was the best place for you at home. The heat would help, the chaos contained. He kneels down on the floor next to you, resting his arm on the enamel and laying his chin on top. 

"How are you feeling?" he asks again, and you caress his cheek with a wet hand. 

"Not great, but better. The peanut butter is helping."

You crack a feeble smile, but you can see the look in his eye is heavy. 

“Querida, I don’t want to waste any more time.” 

You bring yourself closer through the water so that your head is resting next to his, close enough for your noses to touch. He brings a hand up to tuck a strand of wet hair behind your ear, and rubs his thumb across your cheekbone. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, but you know what he's saying, what he's asking. The impossible situation.

His face says as much.

“Javi, please,” you sigh, but you laugh quietly as you say it, “you know it’s not as simple as that. If anything this has proved it.” 

“I don’t care,” he replies candidly, but the frustration in his voice is the overriding detail. “I don’t want to care. It shouldn’t matter. Not after things like this.” 

“Javi, you just moved. You’re fighting the war on drugs for goodness sake. You really think now is the time to have a baby? To be a father?”

“I don’t care. Whatever happens with us, whenever, is the right time. You’ve always said that. I should have been here. It could have been different.” 

“Don’t talk like that. Not right now. Just tell me everything’s going to be alright. We’ll get it together one day. We’re young” 

“Not as young as we were,” he scoffs. 

“Twenty-eight! That’s certainly not old, Javier.” 

“Why can’t you just… give in? I’d have left. If you asked. I will leave. If you ask.”

“No, actually, I don't think you would," you ponder, shaking your head slightly, "and I wouldn’t ask you to. Not even now.” 

Your blunt words appear to stump him, and whatever the next line of his argument was is lost and replaced with a tender kiss to your bare shoulder, his bottom lip sliding along your damp skin.

“I’m sad, Ladybug." 

“So am I, Javi,” you sigh, and when you feel his quiet tears on your shoulder, you let your own follow suit. 

You shift in his arms, rolling onto your back to stare at the clear night through the skylight. It was a familiar reminder of home, one you were enjoying today. 

“When are you off?” you finally ask, the question becoming the second most unavoidable topic in the room.

“First thing. I shouldn’t even really be here.”

“I’m glad you are. I hope you’re not in too much trouble.” 

“If I am, I am. It's a hard one for them to argue with, really." 

He curls himself around you and cradles your stomach, quietly mourning the loss of something that never really was. Another future together, gone before you even had the chance to consider it. 

You fall asleep wrapped in one another, just like always. But before you drift off, for one night, you talk about a future that you’ll never have.

“We couldn’t call her that,” you scold indignantly. 

“Why not?" he retorts, smirking innocuously. "We never call you it. It’s a nice name.” 

“It’s my mother’s name. That’s exactly why you never call me that. What kind of narcissist names their child after them?”

“Most people. My Mother’s name, then. That makes more sense, surely. Everyone loved her.”

“Pa would weep,” you sigh, lovingly.  

“In a good way.”

“Would you want it to be a girl?”

He smirks, rubbing his nose against your shoulder. 

“Maybe. I wouldn’t care. I’d be too excited about seeing you big and fat. Carrying my brood.”

“Why do you make that sound so filthy?” you scold. 

“I’m just trying to put a positive spin on the prospect of another shotgun wedding.”

You elbow him sharply in the ribs, and he laughs. 

“I could be your little harlot. We could live out of wedlock. Social exile.” 

“Not a chance," he scolds, feigning shock. "I’m a man of God. We don’t actually want to kill Pa."

You snuggle into him closer, turning in his arms to come and face him. 

“Do you think our family has any idea, at all?”  

The look on his face is passive, but you can see the words settling somewhere. You don't know if it's the talk of home, or of something bigger; the idea that your summer fling surmounts to so much more when you give it the space to exist.

“I don't know. I wonder sometimes if Pa knows, deep down. I feel like he’s asked me before, in more ways than one. I think he asked when I told him about Lorraine. Like it was a loaded question, you know?"

"They always are with him."  

“Do you think they know?” he asks. 

“I don’t think they’d be surprised, necessarily. Like it’s an inevitable thing, almost.”

He holds your face between his hands then, drawing it away from his so he can look at you clearly, pulling the damp strands of hair away with broad strokes of his thumbs.

“Do you think it is? Inevitable?” 

“Yes," you whisper, a clean answer, cutting through the mirth.

He kisses your upturned lips, tracing them over with the pad of his thumb before finally letting you go.

“I hope you’re right.”

“You know I always am.” 

A/N: I know I mentioned dates before but I’ve actually broken my own timeline here since technically Murphy wouldn’t be in Colombia until they were at least 30, but I figured for the sake of continuity it made sense here.

Also please let me know if I've missed anyone from the tag list! I has been such a very long time 🌚

Playlist Recommendation

Taglist

@furious-rogue-stuff

@athalien

@sara-alonso

@vanemando15

@chronic-nosebleed

@mashomasho

@hnt-escape

@angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@hylasposts

[sp00kymulderr]

Desiderium

San Valentín part 2

Series masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x afab Reader (no pronouns)

Warnings: 18+, Angst angst angst, possessive sex, jealousy, light choking, Javi is a menace and also can’t handle his feelings, dirty talk, love but it’s all kinda fucked up

Word Count: 3k

For months you had convinced yourself the only feelings you had for Javier were carnal; fuelled by those hot Colombian nights and the constant frustration of your job, that it was nothing more than a casual fling for the both of you. But since Valentine’s Day, and the jumble of emotion brought to the forefront in your mind, it has become clear to you that you’re already in way too deep and want far more from this than you ever thought you would.

Even knowing that, things go on the same way for weeks longer; you and Javier, Javier and seemingly every other woman in Bogotá. And each time you swear it’s the last, but then he gives you that look and tells you how much he needs you and before you know it you’re giving yourself over to him once more. Begging him for it again and again, even as you feel how much it blackens your heart to do so. After all, you had known from the beginning that Javier does anything he can for the job, and you promised him you’d wouldn’t let it get to you.

But when you’ve memorised every pattern of the damp-stained ceiling of his bedroom, and what feels like the schedule of half the women in the city you have to do something to get him off your mind. Find a way to stop your heart racing every time he says your name in that quiet, seductive drawl you’ve come to know all too well.

You’re not proud of how you deal with the situation, how you try to get him off your mind. Desperately attempting to shove those feelings back in to the deep, dark Pandora’s box that they were locked in by finding another man who might be able to make you feel as good – specifically Jason, a CIA lackey you’d had drinks with once or twice outside of work before.

Jason isn’t unattractive, and you knew he liked you, he’d made it pretty clear before. You’d always been curious so it’s not exactly a hardship for you to make a move that ends up with him back at your place on a stuffy Thursday night fuelled by too much drink. Sure he isn’t like Javier, but few men are and you’d already known that. When he fucks you it isn’t so desperately passionate, but it’s nice and you’d like that to be enough. 

You hate yourself for wishing it was Javier, every single moment.

Nothing feels right when it isn’t Javier. And unfortunately that’s how you know you love him, and if anything is going to land you in a pit of distress it’s figuring out that you’re in love with your co-worker and the man who’s known in every local brothel.

You’re a fucking idiot. What do you do? What can you do? Javier has always been caring towards you, he gives you attention and affection and makes you feel more wanted than any man ever has. It wouldn’t be impossible that he feels the same way, that he wants more but is too uncertain to ask for it.

If your choices are to be unfulfilled for the rest of your life, or be the first one to confess your feelings you know what you need to do. You have to tell him.

--- The next evening, you find yourself with shaking hands at his door. You have this whole admission memorised, knowing every word you want to tell him. When he opens the door to you and he’s in that black shirt you have to force yourself to concentrate so you don’t forget the entire speech.

Javier looks you up and down with a smirk before letting you in to the apartment, stubbing out his cigarette before he offers you a drink. Your throat feels so dry you gladly accept.

“Heard you had a good time last night” he states matter-of-factly, with what you might consider a hint of jealously in his voice. The walls are thin, but neither of you had exactly been loud so it takes you by surprise that he’d open with that.

“Uh, yeah. I went out for a drink with some of the CIA guys. It was fine” you shrug, not giving anything away. It’s odd, that you feel so guilty about it and you wonder if that’s how Javi feels after his various rendezvous.

“I think Jason might have enjoyed it more than that, saw him leaving this morning looking pretty pleased with himself” he notes in a low voice and bitter, making you shiver despite the heat.

“Oh. Well...yeah, we slept together. It-it was nice” you babble sheepishly, unconvincing.

“But you’re here tonight” Javier reminds you, giving you that look - the one that always gets you in to all kinds trouble. He’s drawing you to him until he’s leaning over you and his lips are almost on yours.

“I’m here” you agree dumbly, goosebumps raising on your skin where his fingers are tracing up your back.

When he kisses you it’s so easy and nice and you melt in to him, letting him deepen it as his hands hold you firm to him. You know straight away tonight isn’t going to go the way you had planned, but you follow his lead unable to stop yourself once he brings out your desire.

He has you immediately, it shouldn’t be a surprise by now. Every time he touches you, you turn to jelly and he can shape you and move you however he wants. He holds so much sway over you when you’re alone together and he knows it. Already removing your clothes, his hands roaming your body and he discards your t-shirt then helps you step out of your pants with your lips only parting for a matter of seconds. You let him guide you and give yourself over to him with no hesitation, desperate for the affection.

The tight grip of his hands on your hips is devastating, he’s so demanding as he pulls you with him on to the ugly old couch that you’ve always hated. Everything is too hot, his touch scorching against your skin until you feel almost dizzy with it. The climate of the small, familiar room is heady, stifling – your breath catching even before he’s got you straddling him and is pushing the flimsy lace fabric of your underwear to one side.

“Did you get this wet for him too?” he murmurs darkly as his fingers begin to explore you, one digit slipping inside you with ease already. You can’t fathom how to answer, the question takes you by surprise and you can’t tell what kind of game he’s trying to play. Thankfully he doesn’t demand a response, instead enjoying the beautiful gasps he’s eliciting from you as he withdraws and finds your clit – circling it so slowly it’s almost frustrating.

It’s difficult to remember how you felt just half an hour ago, when you had been so sure how tonight would go. Your big speech—the whole stupid plan—expelled from your memory as he presses two fingers in this time and curls them inside of you until you’re squirming with delicious pleasure. Javier always manages this so easily it’s embarrassing; turning you in to a speechless wreck with his talented fingers and some well placed kisses against your neck and collarbone, his thumb circling your clit with so little pressure it barely counts at all.

Grinding down against his hand you will him to give you more, letting your eyes do the begging until he obliges you. You tighten your grasp on the back of his neck, arching your back as his thumb presses harsher against your clit and sends tightening shocks to your core. It’s so sinful how this feels, you naked save the forgotten lace and him fully clothed and holding you close as he fucks you with his fingers. His teeth then tongue dragging along your skin, free hand following to pull and pinch at your nipples.

He’s built up a punishing rhythm with his fingers and his thumb, working you until he feels you tense and tighten. He knows you’re close, has seen it enough times by now, and for a moment some cruelty crosses his features that makes you think he’s going to stop. Perhaps if his cock wasn’t so painfully straining in his pants he would, but instead he increases his tempo until you’re arching and moaning his name in to the heavy air.

“That’ right, that’s it” he moans against your skin, lips ghosting across your too-hot flesh “I want you to cum all over my fingers and then clean them up for me while I fuck you. Do you want that? Taste yourself while I fill you up? You’re so beautiful when you come for me - let me see, show me baby”

If you weren’t so close to breaking point you might be taken aback by the filth coming from his mouth, he’s not usually so much of a talker and certainly not like this. But you’d be lying if you said his words didn’t spur you on more and you kiss him hard in some attempt to etch the obscene words in to your memory. You pull back when the orgasm hits, knocking the breath out of you until you’re quivering.

Javi’s fingers work you through it but he doesn’t stop when you do, still rubbing over the now sensitive nub with unabashed determination as his fingers continue to hit against that perfect spot. It’s too much but, christ, it could never be enough.

“Fuck, Javi” you gasp, not even finished with the first when another wave of pleasure submerges you and leaves you crying out for him – eyes squeezed shut so tight you feel a tear slide down your cheek. The second orgasm lands quicker than the first but leaves you dazed and motionless against him save your heaving chest and thumping heart so loud to you it could wake the dead.

Wet fingers trail your thighs as he manhandles you on to your knees, pulling your underwear off of you and letting you collapse against the arm of the couch for a moment as he positions himself behind you. You don’t have to tell him how much you need it, pushing back against him with a whimper when he rubs himself against you, coating his cock in your slick.

“Ple-” your voice is hoarse, more a moan than an actual word coming out of you. “Please, Javi. I need you, I fucking need you inside me right now. Please” you whine, and oh it spurs him on.

You don’t get to finish whatever string of supplications you were about to start, instead whimpering quietly as he pushes easily in to you and slowly, achingly fills you with his thick length to the hilt. He’s taking his time and you can’t decide if it’s to torture you or just so he can take as much pleasure from you as possible. Damned if you care at this point.

When he stills to let you both get reacquainted with the feel of him filling you so well, he brings an arm around you and guides you up until your back hits his chest. His breath lands hot on your neck, placing a rough kiss against your salty skin and letting his lips trail up and over the back of your ear as he starts to move his hips tortuously languidly – making you feel every inch of him pressing in to you. You’re already seeing stars when he taps his fingers against your mouth until you take them in, letting you taste yourself on him. The whole act is so lascivious and indecent, but it feels better than anything you’ve ever imagined.

“Does anyone else make you feel like this, fuck you like this? Did he make you beg the way you do for me?” He questions, speaking right against your ear and pulling you harder against his chest, locking you there with a strong arm as his thrusts up in to you with increasing fervour.

God, you can barely think but that pulls you in to some more lucid state for a moment. Is he serious? Asking you that. You think he’s getting off on it, thinking of you with another man and then asking you to confess your sins to him. You don’t entirely want to give in to his game, but you’d never be able to deny it doesn’t turn you on a little too much. If the unfathomable roll of his hips wasn’t making you feel so delirious, maybe you’d have more sense than to answer him the way you do.

“Javi, no one else comes close to you-” you gasp out as he roughly gropes your breasts and his other hand presses against your stomach, making a slow trail downwards “You make me feel- feel so so good.” You moan out as he thrusts so hard in to you now that your legs are beginning to shake.

When Javier brings his fingers back to your overstimulated clit, you lose yourself entirely. He could make you recount every single moment of last nights tryst and you would willingly do so and then you’d beg him for forgiveness. Any self control you might’ve had to take back the power that is so obviously in his hands perishes the moment he moans your name against your ear and you beg him never to stop.

“You make me lose my mind” you whisper, not even sure if he can hear it. It’s the most simple truth, you’re not in control of yourself any more.

He doesn’t respond, lost in his own pleasure as he grunts and groans behind you when you tighten around him as he continues to do his best to divert you from reality completely. A hand around your throat, squeezing lightly, that’s the thing that finishes you off and whatever you were going to cry out in that moment merely comes out as a serious of incoherent whines and whimpers.

“fuck that’s it, come for me just like that. Just for me” he groans as you come down from the heavens.

For a minute your vision goes blurry at the edges as he changes his tempo again, and his fingers are still on your clit just pressing there. You wonder if he’s actually trying to destroy you for a minute, but then he’s tensing up and pushing completely in to you. He finishes inside of you, holding you so tight you can’t feel anything other than him until he’s emptied every last drop in you, and then finally you’re both collapsing together on to the pillows beneath you.

Even if you could find your voice, you wouldn’t know what to say. Javier mutters some obscenity in Spanish as he pulls out of you but nothing more, and you’re glad that he doesn’t let you go – instead draping his arm over you and kissing your shoulder softly. It’s so peaceful, lying there in his arms, that you almost forget the turmoil still ongoing in your mind for the 15 minutes that it takes for you both to get your breathing back to normal and regain some feeling in your body.

He’s gently pushing aside the hair stuck to your forehead when you finally bring yourself to speak.

“Javi that was.... I don’t think I can move”

“Don’t, stay here” he murmurs, voice so soft you’re taken aback by it. How can he go from being so demanding of you to so gentle in just a moment?

You turn to face him and he looks calm, relaxed, happy to have you with him.

This has to be your moment, right? The way he looks at you right now seems to mirror the way he makes you feel, like you’ve got something to live for. You run your fingers over his cheek and along his jaw, taking in his handsome face and for-once untroubled demeanour – this is how you always want to see him.

You have to say it, this is the right time.

“I think I love you, Javi” you whisper your admission shyly, eyes meeting his and a soft smile on your lips “I think we should try...to make a go of things”

Javier’s expression changes in an instant. He sighs, breaking your eye contact and then he’s sitting up away from you.

“I just- I hated myself last night, it didn’t feel right” you scramble, “Like it should have been you not him and I always want it to be you...” you follow suit, sitting and immediately feeling so horribly exposed as he does everything he can to not meet your eyes. 

“Javi?”

He hangs his head, murmuring your name with such disappointment that anger bubbles up and you feel a rush of heat to your face - you stand to find and pull on your clothes, whole body vibrating with embarrassment. How could you have read the situation so absurdly wrong?

“Don’t do this, we’ve got a good thing going and you know it can’t be more than that” he tells you with so little emotion in his voice that you feel tears start to sting in your eyes,

Snatching your t shirt that had been flung to the other side of the couch, you try to keep some semblance of balance in your voice when you speak again.

“But we were so- I thought you cared about me. You were so...so- I thought you cared? And what? You don’t want me?”

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t fucking cry.

He shakes his head and whether you imagine the pained look in his eyes is unclear, but when he answers you know everything is screwed and as selfish as it makes you, you wish you’d kept your stupid mouth shut

“No. I’m sorry”

So that’s how Javier Peña breaks your heart.

[aplacetodoze]

Peace

You always love spring, not just because it's the time for flowers to bloom, is because spring always provides the coziest days you've ever had.

Everything is warm and comforting at this time of the year, and you love it more when Javier decided to take a day off and settle down on bed with you all day. And days like that become regular when Javier decided to retire from DEA.

Even though the ranch work is exhausting, he seems to be enjoying it, unlike the way he always drowned in the exhaustion it brings being in war. And you love to witness these changes, his frown is mostly gone now, though the bad habit of frowning still lingers. He's more relaxed now, content with his life and spending time with you. And it always brings such joy to you that is hard to hold in your tears. Being able to help him feels content and loved again is the most significant thing you've done in your life.

You turn to face Javier, watching him sleep is your favorite, seeing him at peace, it used to be hard to catch these moments, as the war seems to follow him back home. You watch the way he relaxes, putting your fingers on his brow, and massaging the slight frown away. You smile when he murmurs something in his sleep.

You look toward the window behind him, it's almost noon by now. The light is soft through the curtain as it flows with the warm wind blowing in. It's a comforting scene, an peaceful ambiance. And looking back at Javier, it brings peace to you, you watch the way he breathes, every detail of him and the beautiful picture in front of you, commit it to memory at best you can. Maybe someday you'll sneak out of bed to take a picture and add it to your collection.

You smile when you remember the pictures you've taken, every picture indicates a memorable moment with Javier. Your favorite one is when you find him cooking breakfast one morning, with the radio on, humming a sweet song that you don't know the name of. You sneak back with your camera and took a picture. That one always fills your heart with love when you see it. But maybe this moment right here will be your favorite when you take a picture of it.

You were pulled out of daydreaming when you heard Javier grunt as he move to stretch. You turn toward him and smile sweetly at him when he opens his eyes. He returns the smile and pulls you toward his chest, "Morning, Mi Amor, sleep well?" he mumbles against your neck, his unpruned beard tickling you.

You giggle as he rubs his face against your neck. "Very well, I always sleep well with you." he hums satisfied.

He pulls back to stare into your eyes, "Did something happen, Amor?" you raise your brow in confusion, and he sighs and rubs against you again. "You seem to like me more this morning, had a good dream?"

You smooth his hair back, "I always like you in the morning, what are you talking about?" he pulls back, looking offended, "So you only like me in the morning?" he asks jokily.

"Of course, because you are the cutest in the morning." you mock him back jokily, he raises his brow and looks at you with doubt.

"All right, fine, I like you all the time," you said with all the love you can harbor. He hums in agreement, giving you a sweet and soft kiss.

"So you gonna tell me why you so giggly today, hmm?" you smile evilly in response, "Is a secret~" he frowns, his arms move to grab you but you slip out of bed before he could reach you. He looks at you like a disappointed dad and you can't help chuckling at that, maybe one day...

"Come on, you must be hungry," you said walking out the door, he groan in complained but get up nonetheless. You smile hearing his footstep catch up to you.

Is going to be a great day, another peaceful day spend with him by your side, another perfect day it seems. And a perfect day has to start with pancakes for breakfast.

Javier deserve a wife.

[beatificwrites]

—your girlfriend wants to be mine

pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader

requested by anon!! srry this took forever! a/n: so, i accidentally deleted the request but tried to write most of what I remembered and also took my own spin!

word count: 1.9k

content: cheating, office flirting, narcos spoilers, cursing

summary: you work with Javi and catch feelings, even tho you’re taken

Life as a DEA agent in Colombia had its ups and downs, mostly its downs, but having Steve and Javi as your partners helped make it tolerable. When you almost wanted to give up, they were there to remind you why you were added onto the chase in the first place.

Your boyfriend, of course, used to offer you emotional support but lately, things haven't been the same. You've gotten so caught up in work, you couldn't catch a break. And it didn't help that he was also a workaholic.

With that being said, you two barely see each other.

You were at the office, overlooking some of the files from last night. Steve said he would stay behind and look at them, but you offered instead because you knew he had Connie and Olivia to get home to.

Javi also offered to stay, and you both ended up pulling an all-nighter or at least an attempted one before you fell asleep three hours in.

You woke up on your desk and immediately got back to work before realizing it was already morning.

"Javi, did we even get anything done?!" you asked exasperatedly.

"Yes, relax, I looked through a few when you fell asleep." he replied nonchalantly as he sipped his morning coffee.

"And you didn't think to wake me up?" you huffed, annoyed.

"I didn't wanna disturb the princessa’s beauty sleep." he smirked.

You rolled your eyes at the nickname, closed the folders, and put them away your bottom cabinet.

"Don't call me that, cabron."

"Woah, wait! I'm the cabron for letting you get some sleep?" he feigned offense.

“Just shut up!” you couldn’t take it if he called you anything else.

Javi just smiled and went back to his desk to look over stuff. The man was completely smitten by you. Not that you knew though, you were oblivious to the coy remarks he’d let slip.

He wasn’t looking to try anything; he knew you had someone else.

But, whenever you got up to do something, you noticed how his eyes always followed you. Or, when you two and Steve were talking, how his arms or hands would brush over yours. How he always opened doors for you and made sure you got home safely.

He cared for you, that was obvious. But you thought of him as good friend and partner.

You had gotten used to the lighthearted flirting between you two. It was all fun and games, nothing serious right?

On second thought, you were starting to feel some sort of internal conflict. At first, you could admit Javi was an attractive guy. It stopped there though; you weren’t interested of course.

With time, not only did you look forward to work because you wanted to catch that fucker, Escobar, you looked forward to seeing him too.

It all felt so wrong, how could you get excited to see another man? No, you had to shut those feelings down. You had to push them away as far as you could.

Even so, you cared deeply about the man you were with. You could not love both.

You didn’t want to think about him like that, he’s your friend and an amazing partner. You should only see him that way. Plus, it’s unfair to your boyfriend and you know Javi’s one to sleep around; it’s how he gets his intel.

When the workday was over, you packed your bag and made sure you left nothing behind on your desk. Steve and Javi were going to check out a lead from a call they had received earlier, Steve suggested you go home this time.

“You sure I shouldn’t come along?” you asked again.

“We’ll be fine, you look like you could use some sleep.” Steve assured you.

“Yeah, take this night off. Busy day tomorrow.” Javi added.

With that, you went home to an empty apartment. It had been a while since you last came home this early. You thought you could probably cook dinner for you guys tonight.

You released a tired sigh as you kicked your boots off and hung your purse. As you were about to walk into the kitchen, you heard a woman laughing along with an inaudible male voice.

You froze in place, trying to figure out if it was actually him or someone else. Her voice sounded too young to be the old lady next door.

The sound was quickly nearing, the footsteps too. Yeah, it was him.

You could hear the jingle of his keys and him trying to get in. You panicked, decided to hide last minute behind the kitchen island. It faced the door sideways; he wouldn’t be able to see you.

“You sure she won’t be home soon? What if she comes in out of nowhere?” the woman spoke.

Her voice sounded familiar, had to be someone from the office of course.

“No, she always works late. Sometimes doesn’t even come home."

You mentally rolled your eyes. So, this is what he does...

What could you have expected, you're always busy with work. How could you focus on this relationship? It was bound to happen but to go find some other woman? Without manning up and ending things with you first?

You stood up furiously and watched as he became aware of your presence.

He didn't even look ashamed, like he had an explanation on hand.

"Do you have nothing to say for yourself? Huh?" you shouted in anger.

"It's not like you're ever here anyway! I got tired of your shit and found myself a real woman." He spat with his hand on the other woman's waist.

You bit your tongue before you could ask what exactly constitutes as a real woman in his eyes because you knew this wasn't about her. It was about this douchebag.

"Well, good for you." you clapped sarcastically.

"Here," you stomped up to him and threw the keys at his face.

"The place is yours and I hope this real woman can pay most of the bills because let's face it, you don't make jack."

He held the other woman closer and sneered at you.

You left knowing his machismo pride was secretly hurt, no way he was making good pay at that corporate job.

You also left without the sadness hitting you, but it did once you hopped into the car and started driving to Steve's place. You knew Connie would let you stay the night; she's that understanding.

You tried to convince yourself it was fine. Things were better this way. There was no time to focus on a boyfriend when you had to a criminal.

Over the course of the next few days, your attitude at work hadn't been the best and Javi could see that.

"Everything alright, chiquita?" he asked with his brow raised.

You shook your head and chuckled at the nickname.

"I'm fine, Javier." you attempted to give a convincing smile.

"No Javi? Okay, seriously, what's wrong?" he asked once again, leaned against his desk with his arms crossed.

"I broke up with Norman, okay?" you sighed.

"I thought I would feel way better than this considering the bastard cheated on me but I kind of mess having someone." you were honest and gave a sad smile this time.

Javi was hollering in his head; no other good news could top this! The man was ecstatic. You were finally a free woman that could be his, if he'd ever be man enough to confess.

"I'm sorry to hear that." he said with an appreciated amount of sincereness.

From that point onward, work had been all over the place with the Medellín cartel making headlines for their attacks once again.

Fortunately, for you guys though, Blackie was caught and brought in for Steve and Javi to interrogate. This lead straight to getting intel on La Quica, and for that there had to be a celebration.

While Javier had offered to go for drinks, the ambassador announced a dinner party to celebrate.

You had to admit, formal gatherings such as those dinners had always made you nervous, especially now since you had no plus one.

You decided to go nonetheless and went dress shopping with Connie. You picked out a nice silk dress and knew you were going to make one hell of a show with it.

You were right, the woman Norman took home that night did work in the office. She was a receptionist so you knew she had to be invited and would probably bring him along.

Even if you convinced yourself, you were done caring about Norman, you still wanted to show him how good you looked. Make him feel regret in some way.

It had reached dusk and the nightlife in Colombia was alive, however you weren't partying at any club tonight. The dinner was being held at some luxury hotel that had taken the Taxi driver way too long to reach.

Security was high of course and you were let in once you showed your office ID.

Chatter was everywhere and you could feel a few stares as you walked into the huge space.

It's a shock you couldn't feel Javi's gaze, how his eyes could not peel themselves off your figure. He thought you looked absolutely ravishing.

You found your way to the bar where the gang was and greeted Connie with a hug and kiss on the cheek before doing the same to Steve and then, Javi.

He was speechless, you were too beautiful.

He leaned into the bar and ordered, "two margaritas, please."

"A la orden, señor!" yes, sir!

He turned back to you and had to stop himself from gawking. Had to play it cool.

"You look gorgeous, as usual." he gave you that smirk.

Your heart fluttered a bit. Now you were free to feel what you felt for Javi all this time, God, he was handsome.

You realized he was actually wearing a suit and not just jeans with a biker jacket. Now, this was a sight to see.

The thought made you giggle and made him wonder what you found to be so funny.

"What're you laughing at? This not cute enough for you?" he furrowed his brows.

You laughed again, "No, you look pretty cute. Pretty sexy actually." you flirted, feeling a sudden wave of boldness.

He let out a chuckle and then the bartender slid the margaritas.

Javi watched as you took a few sips, he took in your form and your perfumed scent. You were only a couple inches apart and both struggling to maintain composure in each other's presence.

Even though he was experienced, it's only so often he falls in love with someone like you.

After one too many drinks, you two conversed and engaged in flirtatious combat for most of the night, never losing eye contact. However, you did once you looked over and meet eyes with your ex.

He was chatting with a group of men and women at a round booth, had his girl on his lap.

You quickly looked back at Javi and grabbed him by the collar. You wanted this; you knew he wanted this too.

You smashed your lips against his and gave him the most beguiling kiss a man could ask for; it was fiery and impatient. You longed for this.

"Fuck, hermosa." he cursed before pressing against you and giving you an even hungrier kiss.

He held you closer by placing a hand on your lower back and the other brushing over your exposed back. You grinned into the kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Let's get out of here." you said breathlessly.

[bisexualduckling00]

the first who ever did || ch. 2

there's things i wanna say to you

length: 3800 words

rating: m (language, brief female masturbation, a cheeky massage)

future smut MDNI!!!

chapter summary: You came here to work, not lust over your obnoxiously attractive partner. But, a tiny workplace crush never hurt anyone, right? His “no coworkers” rule was getting more and more difficult to keep. But how could he when you were there? Seducing him solely with your existence. 

a/n: lol this took a lot longer to upload than i'd originally planned but if you're impatient like me there are 23k words uploaded on ao3!! @/bisexualduckling00 as well :)

read ch. 1 here !!

Unfortunately, you could always count on Monday morning to arrive every week, but hat doesn’t mean you could always count on your alarm to go off at the right time. You cursed your way out the door, almost forgetting to lock it behind you. You had yet to walk to the main road and hail a taxi, which took at least twenty minutes, which you absolutely did not have.

“Huh. I assumed you just sleep at the embassy since I never see you leaving in the mornings,” a husky voice chuckled behind you.

“Sometimes I do,” you finished locking your door. “But now, I’m running late and I have a presentation at eight.”

Javier quirked an eyebrow and tilted his head ever so slightly. “It’s 7:30. It’s a twenty minute drive.”

“Exactly!” you waved your arms at him, exasperated. “That’s not enough time for me to catch a cab and still get there on time.” 

He bit his lower lip before chuckling again. How dare he laugh at your struggle! “Loquita, you mean to tell me you’ve been paying for a taxi from here to the embassy twice a day for the past three weeks?” You shrugged. “Let’s go,” he motioned you towards his door, already beginning to walk away.

You followed him wordlessly, unsure what exactly was happening. His strides were long, his too-tight pants clinging tightly to his ass. Not that you were looking. Javi opened the passenger door, giving you an expectant look. “Come on, don’t make me tell you twice,” he clicked his tongue on the side of his mouth.

Obeying, you slid into the seat. The car was surprisingly clean, with a little green air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror. The sweet scent of tobacco tickled your nose, you knew the smell clung to him, and most likely couldn’t be washed away by a dozen showers. You almost mentioned how bad his smoking habit was for his health, but you knew it would just do more harm than good. 

Javi broke the silence first, “We could do this again, if you’d like.” His grip on the handle tightened the slightest bit. “Carpooling. It makes sense, saves you time and money. Is better for the environment and all that good shit.”

Your body warmed at his offer, even if it was disguised in faux-environmentalism or whatever that last comment was. “We’ll split the gas,” you offered. He gave a brisk nod, and that was that.

The rest of the car ride passed pleasantly. You rested your head on the window, enjoying Javi’s music taste as The Eagles played softly through the speakers. Between gazing at the greenery outside, you stole quick glances of Javier. You hadn’t taken the time to just look at him yet, and you found that you weren’t able to stop. 

His work-roughened hands lightly gripped the steering wheel with a casual ease, his thumb gently tapping along to the rhythm of the music. Beneath his yellow-tinted aviators sat his aquiline nose, further down was his angled jawline and thick, smooth neck. God, everything about this man was sharp and broad at the same time. He was all angles and warmth and strength. You suddenly felt overwhelmed, being in such a small space while in his presence. You had to look out the window again before your eyes could drift to his arms. Or, god forbid, his thighs. 

How were you supposed to survive this car ride twice a day, five days a week? You came here to work, not lust over your obnoxiously attractive partner. But, a tiny workplace crush never hurt anyone, right? You’d be over him in a week or two. No big deal.

-

To show your gratitude, you decided to make coffee for the two of you each morning. Javier always complained about how bad the coffee at the embassy was, and you had an espresso machine that your mother had gotten you for your 23rd birthday, so it just seemed like a no-brainer that you could pay him in delicious, freshly brewed coffee.

“Here,” you offered him the cup that morning. His brows furrowed together. “Tómalo, Javi. Es para ti,” you pushed the coffee into his hands until he finally took it, his fingertips brushing yours as he did so.

He sniffed the cup. “Me hiciste un café?” he said with a slight tilt of his head.

“Siempre te quejas del puto café gringo. This way I don’t have to deal with your whining anymore,” you said with a shrug.

Javi took a tentative sip, then a bigger one. The groan in the back of his throat almost brought you to your knees right then and there. It had you imagining things that were most definitely not appropriate fantasies to have of your partner. “This is amazing. Thank you,” he gave your shoulder a friendly nudge as you walked to his car. “You’re like my energizer bunny or something.”

You gave him a questioning glance. 

“You know, the little pink bunny? From the batteries,” he acted like that explained everything. “The coffee… batteries…how do you not know this? Anyways, you keep me going.” You knew he was just talking about the coffee, but you couldn’t help but blush at his words. 

The next day you found a yellow sticky note on your desk. ‘Lunch?’’ was scribbled in thin, stringy letters. Javi was in a meeting, but you had a sneaking suspicion that it was his way of repaying you for the coffee. Your suspicion was confirmed he returned, taking his normal seat across from you and looking up at you from below his brows. “Arepas alright?” You nodded, and that was that. 

You and Javi fell into the friendly routine of coffee in the morning (and the puto gringo cafe throughout the day, of course) and arepas in the afternoon. You’d share jokes and gossip during your daily walk to buy arepas from the street vendors and take turns choosing which station to listen to on the nightly drives back from work.

Then, he’d walk you to your door, even though it was technically right next to his door, and bid you goodnight. Just because you stayed in for the nights, didn’t mean Javier did. You still heard him leave his apartment shortly after dropping you off, and would often hear him arriving again late into the night. You didn’t know where he went off to, and you thought it better that way. Not that it was your business anyways. The two of you had become closer over the weeks, but you were still only work friends, and nothing more.

A month passed and you still weren’t over this stupid crush. It’s not like he was making it any easier on you. He wasn’t flirting, per say, he was just too…nice. How could you be frustrated at someone for being too fucking nice? Ok, it’s possible you were frustrated with yourself as well. It wasn’t as if you had been doing yourself any favors: making him coffee and sharing inside jokes and dirty looks when someone said something stupid. You were digging your own metaphorical grave of unrequited attraction. 

Each small gesture, every door he opened for you, each arepa he offered, every little smile or friendly nudge chiseled away at your plan to not dig yourself deeper than you already had. You didn’t have any friends here yet, and that combined with Javier’s attention and looks…it was like there was no other option but for you to become slightly infatuated with the man.

The following day started at 4:30 in the morning when you, Javi, and el Bloque de Búsqueda raided a suspected sicario hideout. The results were minimal, but the paperwork was not. By the time midnight rolled around, the two of you were still covered in a layer of dried sweat and dirt, barely halfway through the stacks of folders and photos that needed to be sorted and documented. “I’m sure there’s something in here that we’re missing. I can feel it,” you stretched your back, as if that would make a difference in the mass of angry muscle that had been aching all day.

“Me too. Something’s not right with this.” Javier flipped through the pages of his own file before rolling out his soldiers. You were both tense from the heavy physical exertion and the immediate eight hours of sitting in chairs with zero back support. 

“My body feels like it’s going to disintegrate,” you sighed, leaning your head into your hands. “I need a hot shower, like, now.”

“You could come back to my place,” Javier mumbled. No more than a second later, his eyes grew wide, nearly bulging out of his head upon realizing the weight of his words. “Not to shower, that’s not what I meant.” Great. Lovely to know how absolutely repulsed he was by the idea of you naked in his apartment. “I meant you could shower at your place, and then we could look over the files afterwards. At mine. The couch is more comfortable.” 

You weren’t sure you had ever heard him ramble like that. It was endearing. So endearing that even though you should say no, that you should definitely not go to his place and sit on his couch late at night, you couldn’t bring yourself to decline his offer.

“That sounds much better,” you nodded. “Let’s go.”

-

What had he just done.

The car rides alone had been fucking torture. Javier had spent half the time trying not to embarrass himself by saying something stupid and the other half trying not to get distracted by your sweet smell. What did you even smell like? Coconut? Sugar? He wasn’t sure but he knew that he craved it. Your scent. Your taste. You.

And now this? Inviting you over to shower at his place? 

Fuck. His “no coworkers” rule was getting more and more difficult to keep. But how could he when you were there? Seducing him solely with your existence. 

He knew that this was a bad idea. He hadn’t even meant to invite you. The words just slipped out, and then he’d realized what he’d said and he had to fix it somehow. It’s not that he didn’t want to spend time with you or didn’t want to be alone with you. He did. Fuck he wanted to be alone with you. But he knew how dangerous that was. His self control had already been wearing thin and he knew that if he wasn’t careful, it would snap.

-

That hot shower, alone in your apartment, was the best thing you’d felt in weeks. You changed into a pair of capri leggings and your dad’s old t-shirt from his time in the Marines, feeling clean and refreshed. Your hair was still slightly damp, but you couldn’t be bothered to dry it. You doubted Javier would mind anyways.

Javier opened the door to his apartment and you noticed that he had also changed from his usual button down and jeans to a t-shirt and sweats. He smelled of soap and mint, although you could still sense the faint cling of tobacco on his skin. His wet hair curled slightly at the base of his neck, the rest of it spilling across his forehead. And maybe you imagined it, but you could have sworn that you saw his gaze slightly drop to your chest as he let you in. 

“Something to drink?” Javi offered as you curled yourself into his couch.

“Coke again?”

“I was thinking something stronger this time,” he chuckled to himself. “But if you want-”

“No,” you interrupted. “No. I definitely need something stronger.”

He nodded, pouring you both a glass of whiskey and taking a seat next to you on the couch. You felt the weight shift, causing you to lean towards him the tiniest bit. You took a sip of the drink, it burning as it went down. You cleared your throat hoping Javi wouldn’t notice your struggle. You were more of a fruity cocktail girl yourself. A tiny smirk on the edge of his lips caught your eye. Shit. He definitely noticed, but was considerate enough to say nothing else. 

You tried to focus on the work in front of you, but your attention kept drifting to Javier. You were used to watching him work, the two of you worked together every day, after all. But never on his couch, in the comfort of his own home, with wet hair and a t-shirt that clung to his chest. You could hear the soft exhale of his breath, feel him adjust himself when he became uncomfortable. Everytime he sipped his whiskey you imagined how his lips would feel on your skin instead of the glass.

These were dangerous thoughts to be having when you were alone. And drinking.

When Javi stretched, any and all thoughts flew out of your brain. His arms rose over his chest, flexing his deltoids which only accentuated his absurdly broad shoulders. He cracked his knuckles, drawing your attention to his long fingers. Just looking at them sent a shiver up your spine. The hem of his shirt rose up an inch or two to reveal the soft patch of golden skin peeking from beneath. If that wasn’t enough, the groan from the back of his throat elicited the desire that had been simmering under the surface of your skin for weeks to the top. Goosebumps broke out along your back and even though it wasn’t cold, you swore you felt your nipples tighten.

“Sore?”

“Fuck, yes.” Javier ground out. “I hate to admit it, but my back isn’t what it used to be.” He took a long drag of his cigarette. You hadn’t even noticed that he’d lit it. 

“I could, um,” you hesitated, internally debating whether or not this was a good idea or not. Of course it wasn’t, but you hadn’t gotten here by making ‘good choices’ had you. “I could give you a massage, if you’d like?” Your hands moved to your lap, needing something to fidget with “I’d charge people ten bucks for one in college as a side hustle, so I’m basically a professional. I’d give you a discount, of course,” you weakly laughed to yourself. Fuck, you were rambling again.

Javier didn’t seem to mind though. He never did. “You want to give me a massage?” 

You nodded bashfully, “Only if you want.”

“Like I could resist your hands on my body,” he winked. 

You stood up and grabbed a bottle of lotion from the side table and a chair from the dining table. hoping that if you hid your face he wouldn’t see the bright red that had blossomed across your cheeks. You set the chair in front of the couch, “You’ll need to sit facing the backrest, and put your arms up on it, too” you told him. He obeyed, spreading his legs open as he straddled the chair. “I’ll be right behind you,” you brushed your hand across his shoulder as you slid behind him, sitting back on the couch. In this position you were straddling him from behind, your thighs gently brushing against his hips. The warmth of his body burned through the fabric of your leggings, making you inhale sharply at the contact.

Holy shit, you hadn’t been this nervous since you were seventeen and about to sleep with a boy for the first time. Javier had you feeling like a teenager again and you were both fully clothed. About that… “Um, again, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” the last thing you wanted to do was make him feel pressured. “But it would be better if there wasn’t clothing in the way.”

“You asking me to strip for you, Conejita?” 

You were so stunned, your brain couldn’t even keep up to question his use of this new pet name. “Just- just the shirt will do.” You could feel his smirk even though he was facing away from you. The chair creaked as Javier leaned back, grabbing the bottom of his shirt and slowly peeling it up and off his body. Holy shit. You hadn’t seen him shirtless before, and it was a sight to behold. His waist was impossibly narrow but his back stretched out to his straight, broad shoulders. His round deltoids connected to the very visible outline of his trapezius. A beautifully defined line ran down the middle of his back where hip dimples peeked out from the waistband of his pants. He was a fucking piece of art.

You felt his body tense under your gaze, which was the exact opposite of your desired reaction. “Relax, Jav,” you soothed, tracing a finger down his spine. “You need to be comfortable if you want to get anything out of this.” He released a terse breath, his previous flirty demeanor entirely gone. You rubbed reassuring circles along his hip. “I’m going to start now, alright?”

“Ok,” you noticed that his voice had dropped an octave. 

You started by pumping a handful of the, surprisingly enough, eucalyptus scented lotion into your palm and spreading it across the wide expanse of Javi’s back, starting from the bottom and working your way up, gradually increasing the pressure. You loved the feeling of his bare skin beneath your palms. His back was warm and soft, dusted with a light layer of freckles. Several raised patches of scarred skin stood out to you and you wondered about the stories behind them.

Once the lotion was worked in you began to knead the skin across his back, again working your way from the bottom up. Javier sucked in a tight breath as you came to an especially stubborn knot in his shoulder. “Let me know if I’m hurting you too much. It may be uncomfortable, but you shouldn’t be in pain.” You continued working that patch of muscle, but with a gentler hand. You rubbed small circles with your thumbs until you felt the knot melting away and Javi visibly relaxing. 

He let out a long, open mouthed exhale, “That feels amazing. Please don’t stop.”

An image of Javier saying that, undressed and beneath your hands, but in a very different situation, flashed through your mind. Perhaps in his bed. What did it look like? You bet it smelled like him. Or maybe right here, on the couch. Could things have gone differently tonight if the two of you had had a few more drinks? God, you knew this was inappropriate but what else were you supposed to think of when he talked to you like that?

Focusing on the soft smell of eucalyptus, you continued your work, twisting your hands across his back, stretching the skin and underlying muscles back and forth. Up and down his back your hands roamed, thoroughly working through each tense area until you were satisfied. “You did so good, Conejita,” you bit your bottom lip to stop the gasp that threatened to escape. “If you don’t mind there’s this one spot in my neck that’s been driving me crazy for days. Right here,” he pointed to the  prominent muscle on the side of his neck. 

“Of course,” you hoped he couldn’t hear how breathy your voice had become. Pressing your thumbs to the heated skin, you circled and pinched at the amalgamated knot. How had you missed this? 

As your fingers danced across his skin, you heard something rumble at the base of Javier’s chest. A deep, primal noise. You felt it rise up through his throat and out past his lips. The quiet groan sent a deep ache shooting straight down to your core, making your chest flutter and your panties grow damp. Just from that one little noise, god damnit. 

Immediately, his body tensed up beneath you again. Hopefully all your hard work hadn’t just gone to waste. “That’s better. Thank you,” his voice was rough, as if there was still another groan trapped in his throat. 

“Any time,” you murmured. 

Looking over his shoulder, he gave you a soft, closed mouth smile, his face softening. “Really, you’re wonderful.” You noticed that his cheeks had a pinkish flush across them.  He looked so pretty like this, vulnerable and safe and relaxed. As if he wasn’t carrying so much weight on his shoulders. You were glad that you were able to ease it, even if just for the night. 

-

It was nearly three in the morning by the time you had brushed your teeth and gotten into bed. Even though you had been awake for close to twenty four straight hours, sleep refused to overtake you. Instead, your mind was wide awake, pleasurably plagued by memories of Javi’s toned, muscled figure, his smooth skin beneath your hands, and that heart-stopping noise that you had drawn out of him with nothing but your hands on his back. What other sounds would he make? With less clothes and more touching?

Would his voice remain deep and husky? Rough and raspy like the stubble on his cheeks brushing against your thighs and his calloused hands on your hips. Would he growl dirty words into your ear while he takes you from behind? You imagined how he could toss you around like you weighed nothing. How he would have his way with you, using you for his own pleasure. And god, that thought shouldn’t turn you on so much, but what could you do about it now that you knew what hid underneath his cotton button downs?

As if with a mind of its own, your hand migrated below the waistband of your underwear, fingers slipping between your already soaked folds as your mind continued to drift.

Or would he be soft and sweet? Warm and velvety like the chocolate pools of his eyes and the way his muscles moved in a smooth, fluent motion. The way he called you Conejita, gently cradling the word in his mouth like it would shatter if he wasn’t careful. You imagined him praising you, coating you with sweet, sugary words while he gently worked you over the edge. Would he try to keep quiet but be unable to prevent the little whines and whimpers from slipping out? Just the thought of Javier whimpering was enough to send a visceral shudder throughout your body.

Your eyes drifted shut as two fingers slid inside to collect your own wetness and spread it around. Your other hand rose to your tits, gently massaging it while you began to rub soft, slow circles around your clit. A small whimper arose in the back of your throat as you picked up the pace, the strokes turning longer and more repetitive. You imagined it was his hand working you, imagined his skin, hot against yours. His head between your thighs.

God, it didn’t take much after that. You tightly pinched your hardened nipple while your fingers swirled tight, fast circles, hitting just the right spot on your sensitive clit and you came right there, and clenching around nothing, wishing that Javi was there to fill the aching emptiness.

[ghostly-wisp]

MR. LOVERMAN, CHAPTER 1

[series masterlist] [chapter 2] [chapter 3]

in which, the newly divorced teacher across the hall from you is more charming than you expected.

“Hey, have you introduced yourself to the new guy?” Asks your co-worker, and best friend, Sam. The two of you sharing lunch in solidarity of your classroom. Most of the time, the lunch wave was spent between the two of you talking about crazy things students said or airing out problems either of you had with other co-workers. Today, it seemed like it was going to be about the new science teacher that everyone and their mom was obsessed with. 

Mr. Pascal transferred to your school just this year, replacing the old science teacher that retired the previous year. From what you understood from students, along with some teacher, he was an absolute heart throb. You were lucky enough to have your classroom across from his, so you’ve seen him a few times — but you never got a chance to actually speak to him yet. “No,” you reply. “I’ve been meaning to, though. Is he nice?” 

Sam nods, taking a bite of their salad while leaning back in the uncomfortable spinny-chair. “I thought so. We talked briefly, I asked him how long hes been teaching and why he moved here n’ such.” they hum, “I think I made him uncomfortable.”

“How would you have done that?” Sam for the most part, in front of other adults – lacks a certain filter, though you would still have expected longer before Sam would say something to make the new guy uncomfortable. “When I asked about why he moved here, he told me it was his recent divorce.. I think she cheated on him or something, he wasn’t excited to talk about it.” 

“Most people wouldn’t be,”

“Hey! In my defense, I thought he was just going to say the pay was higher or something! Not my wife left me!” after a moment of silence, Sam continues. “How haven’t you introduced yourself yet? He’s right across the hall from you.” To which you shrug, “I just haven’t had the time yet. Things are so busy, the year just started.” 

For the rest of the day, Sam’s words stick with you. Hes right across the hall, and you haven’t had the decency to even say hello to him. Though, you wonder if he was really bothered by it, maybe he would introduce himself to you by now.

The last five minutes before the bell rings is normally an unproductive time, students are packed up and standing by the door, so you never actually continue “bell-to-bell” teaching philosophy, it just doesn’t work out, and if you’re being fair, you’re far too tired at the end of the day too. “Miss,” one of your students says, breaking out of your concentration to the computer screen, you turn to see what the student might want, to your surprise, they only point to the teacher in your doorframe, Mr. Pascal. 

“Sorry to bother you,” He says, his voice is deeper than you imagined it to be. Catching you by surprise just a little bit, “I need to print some things, and I can’t quite get the grasp on how to work the one down the hall. Can you help me out?” 

The printer was a tricky thing, theres a card swipe, password, authorization and then how many you want printed. To anyone who doesn’t quite know how to work it – you had a difficult time when you first started. 

“Yeah, its a major pain in the–” you cut yourself off, realizing that you’re still in the presence of teenagers, and while “ass” is not really a “bad word” and they most definitely say worse things, you still have to watch your mouth. You stand and make your way out of the classroom, making sure you had your lanyard. “Have you sent the papers to the printer?” you ask, to which he nods. “It’s just not showing on the little screen thing.” 

The printer isn’t that far of a walk, but it feels like it was one hundred miles. Especially since the silence between you two. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” you say after the tension proved to be too much for you, “I’ve heard a lot about you.” The printer seems like its getting further away rather than closer. Though he chuckles at your comment, “Good things, I hope.” 

“You can say that.” 

Another chuckle, followed by “My name is Pedro, it’s very nice to meet you, officially.” 

You smile softly to him, as you get to the printer, finally. 

“Okay– swipe your card here, and then put in the code they gave you–the one on the back of your ID card.” He does as you say, and much to his relief, he finally saw the access granted. “The printers here are tricky, take a while to learn.” you laugh, watching him put in the number he needed, and listened to the printer whirl as it started to work. 

“At my old school, they just let us have printers in our room—I was very upset to learn that thats not allowed here. Unless you’re an art teacher.” 

“They don’t allow a lot of things, some teachers do it anyway. I keep a mini fridge hidden under my desk.” you laugh, “Sometimes, we’re no better than the students.” 

He hums, “I guess so. Though, it would be very hard for me to hide a printer under my desk.” to this, you nod. “I guess it would be.”

Hes a lot more attractive up close than when you’re standing across the hall from him, the grays in his beard compliment him nicely, which isn’t something that happens for most people very often. You also like his sense of style, the black button up paired with the dark blue tie, the dark dress pants with the slim belt he wore—you can’t deny that men who know how to dress themselves seem to be more attractive than most. You can see what everyone was saying, he was a heart throb. You can’t help but wonder, what kind of person would cheat on that. “Thank you so much,” he says, turning over to you. Its only now that you notice his tie is decorated with little planets and constellations. How appropriate for a science teacher. 

“Its no problem, let me know if you have any other problems, always happy to help.” 

“I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.”

“So,” Sam says, their voice is sing-songy, like they’re trying to hide something they’re clearly excited about. “I heard that you and Mr. Pascal have been spending a lot of time together between classes, you’re not trying to replace me, are you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you laugh, grabbing a water from your mini fridge. “He’s new, he’s just needed help with a few things and I’m right across the hall.”

“Thats not what Jenny said!” Their tone is still playful, though they’re pointing their finger to you, accusatory. “Jenny doesn’t know me,” you respond. “She said we were dating when I first started here!” 

“Fair point.” Sam shifts in their chair, “So you haven’t been hanging out with him?”

“Well, not between classes, but I occasionally go into his classroom to help him with websites and such.” your smile is tight, you didn’t realize just how often you two had been sharing time in his classroom the past few weeks. “He’s really sweet, you know. I get why the students like him.”

“They like him because hes good looking.” Sam replies, you raise your hands, “I said what I said.”

Sam lets out a laugh, “So you’ve fallen into the ongoing list of people captivated by this man?” they ask, as if they weren’t pretty high on the list themselves. “Not that I’m one to talk.”

You shrug, “I dunno if I’d say I’m captivated. But I can admit hes very good looking,” if anyone was a winner of the genetic lottery – it was Florence Pugh and Mr. Pascal. “This is highly inappropriate talk for work,”  

Pedro was newly divorced, surely, the last thing on his mind would be the younger english teacher across the hall from him, right? Thats what you stuck to telling yourself. Every time you hovered over his chair while pointing out how to work the teacher-portal to the grading site or how you thought he was looking at you in the break room during quick conversations, even if he was looking for a relationship – there were plenty of single teachers closer to his age he would be more interested in. Like Jenny, who seemed to ruin your small moments in his room. 

“Thank you so much, Y/N. Seriously, I would be lost without you.” Pedro huffs, looking up to you, your triumphant smile evident, after many explanations and pointing, you finally taught him how to set up his smartboard screen to be different than his computer screen. “You flatter me, Pedro.” you tease. Going to take a seat back in the chair you had pulled up earlier. He smiles his normal soft, heart-warming smile – “So uh, I’ve been thinking –” 

“Ms. L/N!” Jens voice comes in, she sounds happy to see you, but anyone knew that was forced. As much as teachers are forced to come across as one big happy tight-knit family in front of students and parents, if you throw in 100 something people together, not everyone is going to get along. This just happens to be the case for you and Jen, or Jenny — luckily for you, she teaches art downstairs. So you rarely have to interact, but shes been spending a lot more time upstairs as of late. Unfortunate for you. “It’s so funny that I caught you here, I was just looking for you in your room. One of my students was talking about some assignment you posted, they got confused about it n’ I told them to talk to you, I had to talk to Mr. Pascal, so I walked with them up here, figured when you weren’t in your room this is where you’d be.” 

“Thanks, Jen.” you reply, slowly standing up, your attention turns back to Pedro, who seems upset that you’re leaving before he could finish what he had to say. “Hold that thought for me, okay?” he only nods in response, watching you walk out the door. It's too bad, too, he should really learn to close his classroom door whenever you come by, perhaps this way there would be less distraction, and less of Jenny.

TAGLIST

@djarinsstuff

[second-axis-point]

HI can i request some thigh riding with oberyn Or Javier Peña

Thank you<3

Pairing: Javier Peña x Male!Reader

Content: Smut, Thigh Riding, Established Relationship

Warnings: None!

I flipped a coin between Javier and Oberyn so if anyone wants some more Pedro character's smut, my requests are open. 😙 Anyway, here’s some thigh riding w Javier and thanks for the request! 💙

Long Day

Javier got home after a relatively easy day of paperwork and waiting. He came into the apartment and called your name before remembering that you were probably still at work. He flopped down on the couch and flipped on the tv, hoping that it’ll pass the time. He flipped through a few channels before he heard your car pull into the driveway. Javier settled on a channel that you'd probably both like if you decided to sit down with him.

He watched you walk in the front door. You were home a bit early but he wasn’t complaining. He saw that you were still in your uniform with your stethoscope still around your neck. You looked tense and frustrated.

“What’s going on, cariño?”

Javier asks as he gets up and tries to walk over to you. You quickly made your way over to him and put a hand on his chest. You pulled your stethoscope off your shoulders and put it on the coffee table. You pushed him back down onto the couch and climbed into his lap. Javier was surprised that you were being so forward but he didn’t mind. He put his hands on your hips as you grind against his thigh. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply without warning. Javier pushed you back slightly. 

“What happened today?”

He asks. You stop your movements for a moment.

“Just a rough day. We had a million calls today and I’ve been all around town for false calls or people freaking out over nothing and it drove me insane.”

Javier nodded and pulled you in again. Now that he knew you were alright, he was going to help relieve your tension. As you kissed, Javier started to pull your trousers down only enough to rub his hand against the obvious bulge in your pants. You moaned into his mouth and bucked your hips against him. You got off of Javier’s lap so you could pull your trousers and boxers down. Your achingly hard cock sprung free and you sat back in your boyfriend’s lap. You immediately started rutting against his leg, feeling the fabric of Javier’s jeans on your bare cock. You leaned forward and rested your forehead on his shoulder so you could watch yourself ride his leg. Javier started leaving open-mouthed kisses along your neck, listening to your low moans. Precum started to leak from the tip of your cock and dribbled down onto Javier’s jeans.

Javier unzipped his jeans and pushed his own boxers down enough for him to start jerking himself off, watching you rut against his thigh to get yourself off. Your head is still resting against his shoulder and your eyes are glued to his hand and your cock. You needed release and Javier would let you use his thigh until you got it. You started to feel the familiar warmth pool in your stomach as you started to buck your hips faster. There were streaks of precum settling on Javier’s jeans which turned him on beyond belief. Your thrusts became sloppy and you whined desperately. Finally, you felt the heat in your stomach burst and ropes of cum spilled out onto your hand and Javier’s thigh. Your back straightened and your toes curled as you released onto your boyfriend.

“Fuck.”

You swore quietly, your eyes turning back down to your cum now settling on Javier’s jeans. It didn’t take him long to get close as well. He tossed his head back and moaned loudly. You quickly got to your knees and put the head of his cock in your mouth. Javier let out a long string of moaned curses, not expecting you to start bobbing your head. A few seconds later, Javier was cumming down your throat. You swallowed what you could and lapped up the rest off his pulsing cock. He put his hand on your shoulder and pulled you back up to kiss you quickly, moaning when he tasted himself on your lips. You sat next to him on the couch and regulated your breathing. Both of you were satisfied. You looked back down at the wet spots on Javier’s jeans and smiled.

“We should shower.”

Javier said after he came down from his high. You nodded but didn’t get up yet, still staring at your cum drying on your boyfriend’s thigh.

[callsign-joyride]

Javier Peña Masterlist

I am currently taking requests for this character. My blog and all works are 18+. Minors DNI - you WILL be blocked.

* Indicates smut

Object of My Desire*