#sometimes even starting to stand closer to javier almost as if seeking the small presses of their arms

[lloydfrontera]

touch starved lloyd who will lean into any gentle touch he gets without thinking about it, who never initiates anything but is also never the first to pull away, who sometimes flinches at unexpected contact but will gravitate closer to those he trusts so he's always withing arm's reach

[tiffdawg]

What We Have Here | Javier Peña x Reader

Gif: @bestintheparsec​

Series: Confessions | Part 2 of 3

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 2.8k

Rating: E | Warnings: NSFW - smut, oral (female recieving), edging, dirty talk, sexual language. Alcohol, mild cursing. Angst, but like soft angst. 18+ only.

A/N: I promised soft Javi and I intend to deliver. I mean, I think this is pretty soft for our favorite sad DEA agent...

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What We Have Here

Leaving Javier alone in his bedroom as he haphazardly tossed his clothes, laundered or otherwise, into his old, beat-up suitcase, you wandered into the kitchen in search of something cold and preferably alcoholic to drink. You pulled a couple of beer bottles out of his poorly stocked fridge, scowling as you tried to decipher the expiration labels. He hardly spent any time at his apartment anymore and your skepticism was justified. With a shrug, you decided it didn’t really matter and started rooting around his kitchen drawers for a bottle opener.

“A su derecha,” a soft baritone offered from behind you. Pulling open the drawer to your right, the last one, you finally found what you were searching for. You popped off the caps, each one emitting a fizzy hiss, and handed a bottle to him. He took a long swig and you found yourself admiring the length of his neck as he drank, your eyes drawn down the bare expanse of his chest to the confluence of his shirt, noticing that once again he’d seemingly forgotten to fasten the top three buttons.

Shaking your head at yourself, you brought your own bottle to your lips, hoping to distract your mind from the man across from you. 

Your relationship with Javier miraculously survived the past few months, despite your inconvenient admission. The week that followed that night was practically unbearable. You hardly saw him, even at work where you were supposed to share an office space, and you were certain your affair was over, that avoidance and uncomfortable silence would be the new normal between you two.

Then a week later, almost down to the minute, he knocked on your door late on a rainy Saturday night and willingly wandered right back into your bed and your heart. What you said was never brought up again, never properly acknowledged. It just sat there between the two of you, but you decided that you really didn’t mind. He knew how you felt and that was all that mattered to you; the rest would work itself out – one way or the other.

Somehow your strange romance also endured the constant, chaotic chase for Escobar. Even survived Javier’s unorthodox dealings with Los Pepes.

Sometimes you have to do bad things to catch bad people.

It was something he said every now and again, sometimes to others but often murmured under his breath to himself as he struggled to justify his own actions. You understood the truth of it all too well yourself; it wasn’t too difficult to absolve him of his sins.

The sound of his half empty bottle hitting the countertop with a little more force than necessary brought you back to the present moment. Javier was being sent back to the states and he was anything but thrilled about it. He was more stressed than usual. He’d been chain smoking all afternoon, half a pack of cigarettes already polished off, as he attempted to pack up part of his life in Colombia, not knowing what he was going to be met with stateside.

“I don’t know how long I’m going to be gone. Shit, I don’t even know if I’ll be back,” He said, frustratedly rubbing at the tension building in his shoulder. He abandoned his drink and strayed back into the living room. You sat your bottle next to his and followed quietly, hoping that if you didn’t say anything, he’d finally tell you what was weighing on his mind.

You watched him pace the length of the room a couple of times before stopping to face. He stood across from you, hands of his hips and a pleading look on his face. “I don’t know what to do about...” he trailed off and his gaze fell, no longer able to meet yours. He sat down on the old couch and buried his face in his hands, his elbows resting on bent knees.

“I know, Jav. But we’ll figure it out.” You tried to reassure him, but you didn’t know what to say beyond a simple, vague platitude.

“How can you-” He shook his head as he stumbled over his words uncharacteristically. “You always-”

You shrugged and moved towards him closing the gap between the two of you. “We just will.”

He watched you closely. Though you weren’t sure what he was looking for, you were familiar with his calculating stare. You’d been on the receiving end of it almost as many times as you’d seen him analyze a suspect, an informant, hell, even your fellow agents. 

“What’s really bothering you, Javi?” you prompted. These were uncharted waters and he looked like a man drowning.

He swallowed hard before running a hand over his face. “I don’t know.”

You shot him a knowing look and he sighed.

“I- “he started through a lump in his throat. It was as if his words were threatening to strangle him. You watched his eyes dance across the room and realized he was panicking. Really, truly panicking. “I- “

“It’s okay, Javi” you breathed out when you finally grasped what was really upsetting him. You placed a gentle hand under his chin to tilt his face up so he would look at you again, “I know you love me.”

His dark eyes locked onto yours, before falling shut. All of the air escaped his chest as he sighed, his shoulders slumping. For a moment, you thought you might’ve upset him, but you quickly realized that he was relieved, which was nothing short of a foreign look for him. Hands at your hips, he pulled you closer until you were standing between his parted legs and he could wrap his arms around your waist. He held you as close to him as possible, the side of his face pressed against your stomach and your arms habitually fell across his broad shoulders.

You’d known he loved you for a long time.

You felt it in his actions. While you could never pinpoint exactly when he stopped sleeping with other women – you had your suspicions it was actually before the one time you professed your love to him aloud, but you couldn’t be sure – you knew without a doubt it had stopped after he showed up at your apartment that fateful night. You didn’t have to ask him about it either; he wasn’t spending his nights with other women anymore because he was in bed with you every night. And he made you breakfast most mornings. He kept your coffee mug full all day at work, which was no small task. He always went out of his way to ensure you were respected at the embassy and even did his best to keep you from being too overworked, always comforting you when it all became too much, just as you did for him. He spent Friday nights watching old Colombian sitcoms and drinking cheap alcohol at your apartment and Saturday’s running errands at the open-air market alongside you. He spent all of his precious free time with you and you gave yours willingly to him.

Javier Peña loved you, even if he never put it into words.

You wouldn’t have stayed with him if you thought he didn’t love you. You were a strong woman, fiercely independent and self-confident. And because of that, you were inclined to wait for him to meet you halfway, to hold onto his love for him as long as he needed you to.

All this time you thought by not saying anything, you were sparing him. But maybe by taking the burden from him, you were saving him from himself.

You carded your fingers through his dark locks, and he looked up at you with wide brown eyes. “You know I love you too, right?” you whispered quietly. He gave a short, curt not and you would’ve missed it if you hadn’t been watching his face so closely.

Then, his hands moved from the small of your back to your waistband, fingers toying with the button of your jeans without ever taking his eyes from yours.

“Let me,” he pleaded, “please.”

You silently nodded your assent and he carefully stripped every layer of clothing from your body before laying you down on the couch. He positioned you gently, as if handling something fragile, as if he didn’t know from his own personal experience that you wouldn’t break under his rougher touches.

Javier hurriedly tossed his own clothes aside, undressing with much less decorum, before he moved over you, hovering for a long moment as he took in the sight before him. There was something almost reverent in the way he looked at you and it made your heart soar as you ran the pad of your finger across his jawline, wanting to always remember his expression in this moment. When he finally kissed you, it was a slow, heavy, as if savoring the feel of your lips against his. His tongue swept across your lower lip, seeking permission to enter, before gently caressing yours and exploring your mouth as he’d done a thousand times before. That night he tasted like tobacco and stale beer and something so familiar, so him.

Parting from your lips only to suck in a deep breath, his chest heaving against yours, he pressed a scorching trail of open-mouthed kisses down your neck and across sternum. A warm sensation radiated from every inch of skin his lips met and shot straight to your core. He only stopped his downward movement to lave and suck at a peaked nipple, kneading your other breast with his calloused hand. You wove your fingers through his dark locks, wanting to hold him in place against you for as long as possible.

After leaving a couple of deep red marks on the swell of your chest, something you’d normally chastise him for, his mouth and hand switched places and you cried out when he bit down on your nipple just hard enough. By now he knew your body better than anyone ever had. He knew how to make you writhe and whimper beneath him, how to make you cry from pleasure.

You never knew it could be so good, not until you met him, and even then, not until you loved him, and he loved you.

His hand slipped between your bodies, seeking out your aching cunt only to find you soaked. “Fuck, hermosa,” he mumbled into your skin as he continued his descent, pressing kisses into the soft skin of your stomach and still lower, but not quite where you wanted him most. Not yet. Once he settled in between your parted legs, he resumed his teasing, nipping and sucking at the supple flesh of your thighs until finally you called out to him. 

“Javi, please,” you practically sobbed, “I need you. Now. Please, please- “

Your begging was cut short as a lewd moan escaped your lips when he finally attached his lips to your throbbing bud, and you keened under him. He sucked on your clit, taking you right to the edge with a firm hand placed on your lower belly to keep you steady beneath him, the other wrapped around your thigh, spreading you wide for him. You were so worked up at this point, you knew it wouldn’t take much for you to finish.

“I’m gonna- “

“Not yet,” he said and as his warm mouth left your swollen bud, you really did sob, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. 

“Oh God, Javier!” you exclaimed, throwing your head back against the couch’s armrest and squeezing your eyes shut.

“Gonna make this last,” was all he said before continuing his assault, licking a broad stripe up your wet center. His mouth explored every curve, every fold, every bit of your sex but each time you were close to unraveling beneath him, he’d pull away just long enough for you to catch your breath, pausing to kiss your soft thighs, spreading your wetness across your flushed skin.

“Look at you,” he remarked with his gravelly voice, the words vibrating against your mound, “Your pussy is fucking dripping all over me, baby.”

“Fuck, Javi. I need- I need to cum,” you said through strangled breaths.

“Is that what you want, hermosa?” he asked, pressing a single digit into your center, pumping slowly. You clenched around him and he rewarded you with a second finger, but it still wasn’t nearly enough.

“Yes!” you wailed, “That’s what I want. Stop- stop fucking teasing me.”  

For once in his goddamn life, he listened. He swirled his tongue across your clit with just the right amount of pressure, just the way you liked it, and you came with a wanton cry for all of Bogota to hear. It didn’t matter; the entire world had faded away, your mind empty of everyone and everything save one person, one name.

Javi.

His name fell from your lips repeatedly, like a prayer or a curse. You weren’t quite sure which.

When the ringing in your ears subsided and your vision finally cleared, you looked down to find him gazing at you from his place between your legs, a satisfied smile and your arousal smeared across his face.

“Javi,” you huffed, “please fuck me.”

He crawled up your body and pressed his nose to your cheek, your heated breaths mingling. “No.” he murmured lowly. Before you could ask him what he meant, your question died on your lips as he sealed his mouth to yours. Reaching between you, he lined the head of his cock with your still-pulsing cunt and you eagerly lifted your hips to meet his, encouraging him to enter you. Despite how wet you were, he slid in slowly, whether for your benefit or his enjoyment, you weren’t sure. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight, mi amada,” he growled in your ear as he seated himself fully within you, “Could stay in this pretty pussy forever. Never want to leave. Never want to leave you.”

Whether he was talking about leaving Colombia or leaving you didn’t matter. The feeling of him inside you, stretching you out deliciously, mixed with his tender words was overwhelming every one of your senses in the best way and a new wave of desire coursed through your veins. This was his silent confession relayed to you physically, a language he knew when words seemed to fail him, and you wanted to stay in that moment forever.

“Oh, Javi,” you moaned to him as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, “I love you so much.” It was all you needed to say to spur him on. He withdrew himself before driving his cock back into you, setting a steady pace as his hips snapped against yours. He wasn’t going to last much longer.

Your name fell from his lips as he came, pulling out just in time to spill across your abdomen.

Javier stood with a grunt, disappearing long enough to grab a towel from the kitchen and snag your long-forgotten drinks off the counter. He sat the bottles aside before tending to you, carefully cleaning his spend off of you. Tossing the cloth aside, he collapsed on top of you, pressing you into the couch with his full weight and earning a spirited laugh from you. You shifted just enough so you could breath and lazily trail your fingers down his back, drawing abstract shapes across his skin while memorizing the feel of his body against yours.

As you relaxed on the cramped loveseat, a tangled mess of sweaty limbs, you reached for the jeans he’d tossed aside earlier, pulling out his pack and lighter from his pocket. You handed him a cigarette and he placed it between his kiss-swollen lips. Flicking the lighter to life, you held it out for him, watching his every move as he took his first drag, turning slightly to exhale away from you. 

When he looked down at you again, he smiled. You’d missed that rare gift he’d sometimes bestow upon you. It’d been a long time since you’d seen one. 

“You always know just what I need, mi amada,” he drawled.

It was only the second time he’d ever called you that, and you were determined to commit the sound to memory, to savor every syllable for the rest of your life.

“I don’t want you to go,” you admitted quietly. He brought his hand back to his mouth, inhaling deeply once more before stamping out the half-finished cigarette in the ashtray on the end table. Eyeing you seriously, he considered his next words for a long, drawn-out moment.

“Come with me.”

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Spanish Translations

A su derecha: to your right

Hermosa: beautiful

Mi amada: my beloved

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Thanks for reading! Part three is coming soon...