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undercoverpena · 14 days

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1. tie the knot

javier peña x f!reader* | chapter one of let us pretend

summary: peña has been back in Texas for all of five minutes, thinking he wants a simple life. but, when steve offers him the chance to gather information on a potential new player, he jumps at the chance. the only problem is, to do so, he'll need to go undercover with a female agent—and pretend to be her husband.

wordcount: 4.6k chapter themes: fake dating/relationship/marriage, forced proximity / sharing one bed, colleagues to lovers, no use of Y/N, *female agent has a nickname (sunny) for use undercover. an: this week i am full of surprises. welcome to the world of let us pretend. this chapter might not feel different from htcu, but it is.

All he has to do is pretend. Put on an act.

It’s simple on paper. Easy. A thing he’s already a master in, something he has never found particularly difficult or hard: pretending.

Javi, after all, had had always been pretty good at concealing, at masking—

“Y’need to pretend to be married.”

Faking being a husband was a new one.

Having lived with far too many emotions for so long, it’s not hard for him to fake nonchalance.

Colombia had been his school. The place where he collected his degree—days of pretending he was okay. Hiding the fact he couldn’t sleep the horrors away, that he wasn’t falling apart at the seams. That stress wasn’t making him chain smoke and the pressure wasn’t making him sink his cock into women he couldn’t save.

He picked up his doctorate when he returned home. When ranch life had felt so fucking dull it made him want to pick the smoking habit back up, just for something to do. When he saw boats that made his insides twist, but found he had to wear a smile. Hiding, as expertly as he could, so he didn’t bristle each time someone called him a hero—when all he wanted was a drink, a fuck or a newspaper.

Mostly, Javi had become a master in squirrelling away the fact he saw every minute of the hours at night, feeling nothing short of relief when his alarm chimed so he could get out of his homemade prison.

Bluffing had always been a skill of his. But, this, this was new to him. His bluffing had never required him to wear something shiny on his left hand and—

“And, Jav. Try not to fuck her.”

He’s not surprised that Steve heads up a department in Miami—or that he’s happy and content.

From the moment the two of them reunited, he took in the glow on his old partner’s skin (the one he strongly suspects isn’t just from the sun) and listened as he heard short (in Murphy’s opinion) stories about his daughter growing older.

Javi couldn’t relate—not that he’ll admit it. Just another thing he disguises. Smothers his face in what he assumes is what happiness looks like, wears it like an accessory, something akin to wearing a jacket, rather than actually feeling it.

Picking up a ring, rotating it between his thumb and finger, he snorts. “Wouldn’t be very husband-like of me, if I didn’t, would it?”

He’s nudged. An intentional elbow to the side sparks a grin as he places the ring back into its velvety spot.

Because none of them look right. None seem right—even for a fake thing.

“Fake husband. And don’t fuck this up.”

“I’m hearing a lot of don’ts and not a lot of do’s, Murphy. What the fuck is it you want me to do?”

He’s already been told, informed. Briefed.

Tricked in fact. Requested down here for an opinion, but when his worn-in soles landed in the office of his former colleague, it unravelled into something so much more.

Handed a file—one he knows everyone expects he won’t read—and given a rundown of what the operation is supposed to look like. But Javi knows better. Had known it too. Even suspects, Murphy does too.

One thing Colombia has taught him is that plans don’t mean shit, not when you’re up against an ever-evolving problem.

You don't just want me here for a consult, do you, Murph? Was hopin’ you were bored in Texas.

He suspects that’s why his Pop had given him an arched brow, an expression that was accompanied by pinched lips when he’d first mentioned it. Even his assurance that it’ll be a few days—just helping Steve out was met with a look Javi hadn’t banked on. Realising as he stood admiring wedding rings that his Pop had figured it out long before him.

At least now he understands why he got the Chucho-treatment—not quite quiet, but not quite the same treatment from him that he did the day before.

Instead, that kind of treatment that pierced itself into him, attempted to bury itself inside of him and made guilt flood through him like a poison.

Even if once before he would struggle with it, found himself desperate to apologise—make it up to his Pops—he didn’t this time. Because Javi already struggled. Already grown tired of itching for something.

So, he said nothing. Because he knows Murphy wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t need him.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Murphy closes his eyes. The same noticeable twitch in his fingers and chewing inside his cheek that Javier can relate to: the sign of a recent quitter, and one attempting to use gum as a replacement.

Needing too.

“Where is she, anyway?” he asks, shifting the conversation, suppressing a yawn.

Before he’d even got on the plane out here, he’d been tired. Already beginning to fray at the edges, sleep had already become an even more distant friend.

All of it had been made worse by the worried look on Pop’s face when he dropped him at departures. It thickened, slathered itself on his shoulders even more so when he calls him from Murphy’s office to tell him it’ll be three months.

“You managed longer than I thought, Javi.” “Pop…”

Even though he had known it wouldn't matter, he had still tried to explain it all over again. From the top. All softly, with patience—the phone receiver leaving an indent on his cheek as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Reminding his Pop that this time he was doing his friend a favour, that it was a one-time thing—a few months, at most.

It didn’t shift the tone—didn’t stop Javi from imagining the disappointed lines bleeding into worried ones, mixing with the ones caused by age. It didn't lessen the tightness over the phone, simmering in the miles of air, because they were both at a standstill in the centre of a formerly (albeit temporary) happy situation.

Sighing, Murphy drops his hand, pulling him back from his thoughts. “She’ll be here, alright.”

Javi snorts, swallowing.

Glancing back over another table, seeing other things, other accessories. Things that’ll help him blend, help the two of you blend. You and him, him and you—a person he knows the name of and nothing else.

Steve had shared that you were good, brilliant, the only one he’d trust. That you knew the work so far better than anyone.

He’d been about to begin unpicking those earlier statements when the door opened, blouse and black tailored trousers walking towards him.

It isn’t anything cliché.

Time doesn’t stop, the room doesn't silence, but something happens. Something shifts, changes—alters. Because instantly, Javi realises you’re pretty. A thought which confuses him, especially when it dawns on him that usually, it’s a woman's figure he notices and admires first, but he finds that it's your eyes that he lingers on.

And fuck do they cut into him.

Practically reach inside of him, before they go through him, digging into flesh and fucking bone.

Then, all at once, ceasefire. A chance to strengthen his façade as you turn to greet Murphy, a handshake, a sea of pleasantries. Enough chance to shove it down, whatever attempted to rise in him.

But, he swears he can still see them behind his lids. Something which makes his jaw tighten, teeth grind—

“You must be my husband,” you say, smirk sliding up into your cheek.

Your body suddenly turns to him, hand sticking out towards him, adding your name to the statement as though stamping it into the air and his body goes clammy, grows warm and makes him suddenly desperate for water, coffee or even whiskey.

Slipping his hand into yours, he’s not surprised to find that it’s soft, the right kind of warm. He’d suspected about as much from just appearances alone.

“Agent Murphy has told me a lot about you, Mr Peña.”

Running his tongue over the front of his teeth, he eyes you. “Think my wife should call me, Javi.”

Javi learns, rather quickly, that you have a nice voice.

It doesn’t grate, doesn’t annoy him—it’s informative, but there’s something else there, a playful edge, a little thing within you that hasn’t been crushed.

He remembers when he’d been as sprightly.

Rubs his forehead with the heel of his palm as he does, fingers desperate to clutch a pen, his jaw tightening as he thinks about how he could roll it in his fingers, hold it like he used to hold a smoke.

Fuck, he wishes he could chew his gum.

A thing which is slowly making him more tense.

Not that you seem to notice, too focused on getting him up to speed on the actual investigation. He’d read much of your notes before today, it was the next part he was more on edge by.

Because, whatever his earlier opinion of you was, he was getting the distinct impression you’d rather set your skin on fire than be fake married. A thing you stop trying to hide, your face displaying your disgust at it each time it is casually mentioned.

It was mandatory—Murphy’s words—for the two of you to get to know one another. A crash course, a 101 in the other. It’s told to you, that the two of you are going to be stationed in your new home for the next few weeks, starting from today. But, because they’re merciful—

“Wanted to make sure you had time to get to know one another. So, take the day—work can begin another day.”

“How nice of you, Murph,” he responds, words dipped in sarcasm. Briefly catching sight of you smirking as you study something on the table.

Javi had already imagined that—since it was recon, and more surveillance than anything else—for the most part, everything could remain the same. He learnt he was right moments later when it was confirmed his name would remain very much his own, and you were handed his surname like a gift you’d rather burn than accept.

It was you who had to surrender more.

“Y’need a new first name.”

If you were surprised, you didn’t show it. A sea of reasons given, the main one being if anyone asked around with a photo and your name, it would be easier to put two and two together. You lived here, for one.

You keep your eyes down, glancing over the table of possessions you’re allowed to borrow, to play dress up with. Fingers brushing over a watch (silver, a white face)—something haunting in your eye you’re quick to blink away when you meet Murphy’s stare.

Folding his arms, Steve sighs. “Jus’ something you’ll answer to. That can be used in public.”

Javi watches you smirk, something secretive, a hidden joke simmering between the two of you—leaving him very much out in the cold of it.

After a beat, you lick your lips.

“Sunny,” you reply, lifting your eyes, digging each syllable of the name you’re going to use into him.

“Let me guess you’re someone’s ray of sunshine?”

He doesn’t mean for it to fall out laced in bitterness, but it does all the same. His mouth tilted into a smirk, your eyes hardening as you placed down a pair of earrings you’d picked up.

“Think it’s more because of my sunny disposition.” He snorts, watching you move around the table. “It’s a family nickname—I’ve… I’ve always been called it, so, I’ll answer to it.”

Swallowing, Javi lets his eyes wander to the wall of the room.

“Alright, you two. You need to sell it, y’hear me?”

“Then we need money.” It’s short, stern, the way you deliver it, head tilted and face unreadable. “We’ll be sniffed out immediately without it. These people deal in money, not handsome faces.”

"So, you think I'm handsome?"

The roll of your eyes doesn't dispute it, not as you direct your attention back to Murphy.

Who, until now, Javi hadn't realised (with his hands on his hips) how big boss Murphy looked as he whispered fine, or how much it rather annoyed him. How it would be quite easy to give him a shove. More so when he’s handed a new phone, a set of documents, credit cards and given more instructions he wishes he could shove down his throat.

He almost gets close enough to do both when briefing ends and he’s handed the keys to the hotel suite they’d be living in—their story simple, easy:

“We have a fake house for you both being made ready as a cover story, but for now you’re both in the hotel. Prime location. Beach views, and very much in reach to the top places the targets visit.”

And, Murphy hadn’t been lying.

It did have good views, the suite was even nice—really nice.

Almost too nice for a little surveillance, a little fake marriage and a drug bust. But, he didn’t complain, barely said a thing in the ride over, or when you wheeled your own case. He even remained silent when you refused to look at him in the elevator or on the walk to the room, and even when the two of you entered.

In fact, the first words he said were: “You gotta try and look at me like you don’t wanna peel my skin off. You know, if you want this to work.”

He expects it; braces for it, the tongue lashing, an icy stare. Picturing you as the kind of woman who is already to sharpen your tools and pierce him with them when he blinks. But, you don’t.

If anything, Javi watches in slow motion as your shoulders sink, your cogs turning before your expression softens.

“You’re right—I’m… sorry.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, he nods. “There’s one bed.”

“Well. We can sleep in the same bed, Peña. We’re adults. However, for your sake, I’m going to put a pillow between us.” Your eyes sweep over him, cold, drowning him in a chill. “Two actually.”

“You a cuddler, or something?”

Smiling, you sigh. “No. The pillow is so that if you roll over all sleepy and desperate for some affection, I won’t have to cut you. Because if you touch me, that is what will happen.”

“How are we meant to sell we’re in love if I can’t touch you?”

“Oh, out there, you can touch me. In here, no.”

His snort rumbles from his chest. Tugged up, wrenched from some cobweb-filled depth, as you smile. Nothing big, nothing life-changing, but a start—the beginning of a level-playing field.

“What kind of touching, cariño?”

Jaw tightening, you smirk—but it’s cold.

He suspects you’re used to charm. Easily able to disable it, switch it off, unfazed by his gaze or the edge of his words. If anything, you seem really fucking bored of it—something he’s not sure if he admires or despises.

“Nothing like you used to pay for, Peña.”

Before he’s even recovered, he learns that you take things seriously.

Your bag opens, pulling out a notebook—upside down cursive etched over a page, your eyes scanning over it, before you ask if he’s ready. He’s barely able to ask for what, when you begin firing things at him.

Favourite food. Comfort film. Where did we meet? What song do you sing in the car when I’m not around? Are you allergic to anything?

The list goes on, and on. The more things continue to run out of your mouth, the more he begins to admire you—to settle into some comfort that you want to do this properly. That you’re going to take it seriously too, something he wants.

Needing it to matter.

Needing to have something work out easily, not have it all end for nothing.

The only time you pause is for a dinner—room service, his treat and his choice. A way of providing proof that he’d been listening, paying attention—somehow wanting to prove something to you, even if he’d known you for only half a day.

“So, how did Murphy get you on this?”

He studies the way you cross your leg over the other, the base of your heel tapping against the carpet—all very much guarded, on edge.

“You can tell it’s my first, can’t you?”

Javi smiles, making it softer purposefully. “A little.”

“He said you were good,” you sigh, placing your napkin down. “I assume I was chosen because it was easy. Y’know, than someone with… higher priorities. Plus, I already know the case. Guess it just made sense to send me.”

Nodding, he watches as you avoid his sight, focusing instead on the swirls in the carpet. Something ticking in your pretty little head, it forcing your nostrils to flare, for your jaw to tighten—and he’s watching it happen, practically feeling the air around you begin to vibrate from it all.

“M’not gonna let anything happen to you, Sunny. You know that right?”

That does it. Further digs in the hatred you’re feeling tenfold because the use of your new name makes you flinch. And he knows, like he had suspected earlier that it means more than just a name. Especially from the look on your face.

At first, your expression is soft, almost mask-less—no walls, no defence. Then, like magic, it shifts. It drapes down, rebuilds, and suddenly there within seconds, the same expression he’s been working with since introduction.

“I have heard how you take care of the women who work with you.”

Picking up your drink, and stirring the straw, you let your eyes meet his. The small wooden table suddenly even smaller—the large suite, suddenly constricting in a way he hadn’t expected so far.

“S’not what I meant.”

“I know.” It’s curt, your reply. Clearing your throat, you snort, “You are handsome. I can see why you did so well. And, I might not need to say this, but I need you to know I like my job, and I don’t require that kind of care.”

Rubbing his jaw, he sighs. “That so?”

“I have something that can help with that. It doesn’t talk. It doesn’t need to remind it that it’s ‘so big’, and it doesn’t need me to call it baby. It just hums—politely—and makes my thighs shake. I just need you to be with me in this.”

He snorts, draining the rest of his glass. The ice clangs just before he places it back down on the table. “You bring it with you, your something?”

Licking your lips, your mouth slides into your cheek. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Steve had told you his credentials—how he worked, how smart he was. How easily he was able to decipher a read on someone.

He did also mention much of Peña’s backstory—including his rich history with the opposite sex. A thing you hadn’t wanted to let escape out coated in catty and wrapped in bitchy. And yet, it had all the same.

You did want to get on with him, you admired him after all. Hearing the truths from Steve made the things that swirled like gossip even more impressive.

But, in all of the briefings you’ve had before agreeing to this, your boss had failed to mention that it wasn’t just the man’s tongue that got women to confess all their secrets, but his ridiculously handsome face too.

The one that keeps turning towards you—eyes concentrated in on you as though you’re the most interesting thing he’s ever had the chance to listen to.

But, it wasn’t just that. It’s that he’s quick-witted, observant, and it most definitely doesn’t help that he’s all broad shoulders and brown eyed. That, in part, you thought you could handle.

Then, he’d flirted.

On any other day, in any other place, you’re sure you’d have melted. Likely leant forward, elbow on your knee, tracing your bottom lip with your finger just to make his eyes drop to your mouth.

But, this isn’t any other day—it’s work, a job, one that requires him (in part) to be a flirt.

Clearing your throat, you smear on a smile. “You not tried to date since you’ve been home?”

His face hardens, just slightly.

It pinching, eyes more so than anywhere else—his smile falling, descending to a thin line as he traces his teeth with his tongue. Then, his eyes shift into an entirely different brown, an explosion of shades swirling—flecks of gold and sadness-infused umber.

“No.”

Nodding, you pick at some salad on the side of your plate. “Probably a good job—don’t need any angry people coming for me when I’m curled up on your arm.”

He snorts, but it doesn’t flutter over his face. His hand remains balled up, resting on the arm of the chair—something more there, prodding, needling him. He may be so easily able to read you, but you’re sure he’s about as clear as a warm day himself.

Landing his gaze back on you, you feel it linger, hover—before it begins to slip down from your eyes, landing somewhere at your neck, before the buttons off your shirt. Something warming inside of you, flooding out, spreading across your skin as you try your damnest to level your breathing.

“Got any more questions?”

“Plenty,” you reply, almost catching the y on your teeth before placing a light smirk out over your lips, letting it move across your face.

Gesturing, Peña licks his lips and so you begin with more. Not needing the book now, just working your way through the things which populate, which appear like bubbles he bursts with his answers.

He’s open about some things more than others. The two of you covering family quickly, childhoods even quicker. You both discreetly avoid too many details of Colombia, about the things you’d already heard in chunks from your superior.

Your 101 beginner class in your new husband proving to be easier to understand than your field handbook—although, you supposed the intermediate and expert levels to him would be far harder to crack.

He’s unmarried, not dating—there’s his dad, a sea of distant family and a town full of people whom his father would class as family. You suspect some guilt there, it layered between the conversation on his dad, and the one which followed when you’d asked if the ranch would be okay without him.

“—My Pops has had help for a long time. One of them has been promoted. He… He works there full time now.”

Even if he had tried to say it simply, it was laced in bitterness—not from jealousy, you suspect from the sadness that had poisoned over time. A well stuffed with things which had rotted and gone mouldy over time.

Upon sight of him this morning, you had known you’d need to be clever, smart—find ways to compartmentalise it all. Because, when he traces his nose with his finger, when his eyes widen a little more than normal—coffee-brown all but drowning you—you had known it would be hard otherwise.

Something there, niggling, piercing through.

“Any lovers I need to be aware of?”

Smiling, you slide your feet from your heels, pulling your legs up more, swallowing. “No, you’re good.”

“Any potential risks I need to be aware of—anyone who’ll call into question your new name?”

Your stomach knots, uncomfortably so. A thing balling inside of you, that same fear you’d been plucking at for days—ever since Steve had suggested your name, thrown it out on the conference table with a bunch of greedy eyes seated around it.

“No, I… you have nothing to worry about.”

He looks at you, lets it hover, hold. Something there, trying to disguise itself in the way he narrows his eyes a fraction, in the way his lips pinch together—the way his brain seems to whir like a fan that can be heard even across the table.

When you yawn, he makes a move to tidy up the plates for the tray—batting your hand away. “I’ve got it, cariño.”

“Cariño?”

Your cheeks are warm, more so under his stare. Easily able to smother it the first time, but found it difficult the second. It’s all wide, blooming—it tracing your eyes before it sweeps back to the tray.

“Gotta call my wife something original, special.”

“I’m hardly special, Peña.”

“If I’ve married you, you’re special.”

Clamping your mouth shut, you say nothing.

Something churning, a horribleness that you know stems from the fact this isn’t real. None of it. The niceness, the ring on your finger—the one your finger slides up your palm to brush over, to trace.

The one which didn’t have a home there this morning, but now sits like it’s always supposed to. Your stare on his back as he goes to the door, pushing the metal tray, the jingling of plates and glass sounding out as your heartbeat pounds in your ears, your cheeks burn in embarrassment.

It continues to hammer when your back flattened against the bathroom door—safe amongst marble, mirrors and an array of complimentary products which covered most of the sink.

Only as you begin to undress and change for bed, does it lessen, does your composure return back to you. The mask which you so delicately applied, the one which had taken more words of encouragement in your bathroom mirror this morning than you’d thought.

Because, it isn’t that you thought you couldn’t do this—but rather why would you?

This isn’t your expertise. Not your usual field of knowledge. The last time you’d even been on a date had been at least over a year ago, and the last time you’d lived with a man had been so long ago you were worried you’d wake tomorrow and learn you have habits you weren’t aware of.

Did you kick in your sleep?

Did you grind your teeth?

“Cariño?” Peña calls out, knuckles tapping on the door. “You good in there?”

No, you want to reply. Hands gripping the sink basin, staring at your makeup-less face and the nightie he was about to see you in.

“Yeah,” you call out, washing your hands, and flushing the toilet before unlocking the door, and emerging.

He’s polite enough to not drink you in, even if you're sure he’s craning his neck not to do so.

“Look. Before you crack your neck from not doing so.”

Smirking, he traces his fingers across his chin, before slowly dropping his eyes.

And you feel them.

Warm. Hot. Sliding over your neck, collarbone, down the silk which covers your chest, abdomen and most of your thighs, before he’s running his vision back up.

“Better?”

“Nice legs.”

Narrowing your eyes, you straighten your spine. “Try not to dream about them, and Peña?”

He hums.

“Try to remember you’re not actually married, don’t want you falling for the fantasy we’re putting on. Hate to break your heart.”

Leaning against the doorframe, staring at you, you somehow manage to level your breath. “If it’s you breaking my heart, Sunny. I might just let you.”

Your mouth almost falls open. Almost.

Something you think he's aware of from the way he smiles, from the way he drinks you in before he whispers about getting passed.

Then, you're alone.

Filling your lungs with a breath, staring around the room not sure how you're going to make it a week not cracking, never mind more.

CHAPTER TWO ->

AN: tag list won't be around from chapter two, thank you for letting me tell the story how i always envisioned. your kindness is appreciated.

taglist: @thetriumphantpanda @texassmiller @wordywarriorwrites @iknowisoundcrazy @thundermartini

@secretelephanttattoo @belliezz @picketniffler @thelightsandtheroses @sawymredfox

@toomanytookas @auteurdelabre @grumpygrumperton @noisynightmarepoetry @missladym1981

@maried01 @livswayout @casa-boiardi @msjarvis @perotovar @inept-the-magnificent

@copperhalfcent @morallyinept @inside-the-mind-of-a-wallflower @nabiiturner

@venturawriter @blablablasssss @half-moon16 @nerdieforpedro

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reasonsforhope · 8 months

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"New Mexico will establish a permanent absentee voter list and remove barriers to voting on tribal lands under sweeping legislation signed into law Thursday [March 30, 2023] by Gov. Michelle Lujan Grisham.

The measure also will automate voter registration during certain Motor Vehicle Division transactions and more quickly restore the voting rights of people exiting prison after a felony conviction. It was supported this year by Democratic legislative leaders and Lujan Grisham, a Democrat, after a similar measure died in the final moments of the 2022 session amid a GOP filibuster...

Republican lawmakers fiercely opposed the bill this year, too, contending automatic voter registration and other measures aren't necessary in a state that already allows same-day registration. But advocates of the legislation, House Bill 4, celebrated Thursday [March 30, 2023] as Lujan Grisham signed the bill during a ceremony at the Capitol with Secretary of State Maggie Toulouse Oliver; House Speaker Javier Martínez, D-Albuquerque; and others.

Native American leaders described it as critical step toward protecting the voting rights of people on tribal land, especially those without a traditional mailing address. [More details in/moved to the last key point!]

In a signing ceremony at the Capitol, Lujan Grisham said the legislation would serve as a template for other states. "We want to send a message to the rest of the country — that this is what voting access and protection should look like," the governor said...

Absentee voting: Sign up once

The legislation calls for a permanent absentee voter list to be available in time for the 2024 elections. Voters could sign up once to get absentee ballots mailed to them before every statewide election. People on the list would also get notices mailed to them seven weeks before Election Day. Any election-related mail returned to the county clerk as undeliverable would trigger the voters' removal from the absentee list.

Automated voter registration

Automatic voter registration during some transactions at MVD [DMV] offices — such as when a person presents documents proving citizenship while applying for a driver's license — would begin in July 2025. Newly registered voters would be told they've been added to the voter rolls and that they'll get a postcard in the mail allowing them to decline the registration. For MVD customers already registered to vote, their address would be updated in the voting rolls if they renew their driver's license with a different address.

Restoration of rights

The legislation will restore the voting rights of felons when they leave custody rather than after they complete probation or parole. Inmates would be granted the chance to register or update their registration before release. The Sentencing Project, an advocacy group, estimated the measure will restore the voting rights of more than 11,000 citizens.

New holiday

The bill makes Election Day a school holiday.

Drop boxes

The legislation requires each county to have at least two secured, monitored boxes for people to drop off absentee ballots. State election officials are empowered to waive the requirement or grant requests for additional containers, depending on the circumstances of each county.

Native American voting

The proposal establishes a Native American Voting Rights Act.

[Moved here from earlier in the article]

The measure requires collaboration with pueblos, nations and tribes on establishing polling places, early voting locations and precinct boundaries. It also allows members to register to vote or receive absentee ballots at official tribal buildings — a necessity, supporters said, for residents who don't receive mail at home. "It is truly monumental reform," said Ahtza Chavez, executive director of NM Native Vote and a member of the Kewa Pueblo and Diné Nation. "It requires collaboration with tribes at all levels.""

-via Albuquerque Journal, March 30, 2023

#new mexico #voting rights #voting matters #united states #us politics #good news #american politics #voting #election 2024 #native american #indigenous rights #first nations #felon voting #election day #lujan grisham #michelle lujan grisham #hope #hope posting #elections

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year

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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.

1K notes · View notes

ghostofaboy · 3 months

Text

Finally and Final

Pairing: Javier Peña/Steve Murphy Rating: Explicit. Serious over 18s only Word count: 2444

Warnings: Hand job, period typical homophobia, infidelity

Summary: At first, Javi believes Steve is angry with him, but it turns out it's something else entirely.

Note: This has not been beta read, so I apologize for any mistakes. My first time writing Stavier, but I fucking love them as a pairing. This was a request from Anonymous as part of my 100 Follower Celebration.

It was clear Steve was still mad at him. Only the week before, he'd shoved Javi up against the wall in the embassy, hissing accusations in his face before storming off. Javi hadn’t done what Steve accused him of, of course he hadn’t, but he did need Steve to be onboard with what came next in the fight with Escobar.

But in that moment, instead of defending himself, all Javi had been able to think about was Steve's breath on his face, how warm his hands were and how hard Steve had made him. Heading home, Javi had jacked off to the thought in the shower, covering the tiles in his come before climbing into bed and pushing the deviant thoughts of his partner out of his mind.

Now Escobar was out of his bullshit prison and the hunt was back on, that should have been good news. Except, Steve’s wife Connie had also returned to Miami, leaving Steve a drunken mess. He’d been damn lucky Messina hadn’t sent him home then and there. Javi had vouched for him, explained the situation, and that seemed to be good enough for their new boss. Javi had thought it would also be good enough to win Steven over. But apparently not.

Now Steve was glaring at him as they went over tedious reports filled with nothing that was remotely helpful to their goals for finding Escobar once more. As he looked up from his desk, Javi could see those blue eyes were analyzing him, watching his every movement, taking in every detail.

“What?” Javi finally snapped, prompting a smirk from Steve. “You’ve been staring at me all fucking day.”

“No law against it.” Steve’s drawl sounded thicker than usual and as he glanced to the other agent’s left, Javi spotted an empty whiskey glass sitting on Steve’s desk.

“Damn it Murphy.” Javi ran a hand down his face, dropping his voice to a whisper. “You’re drunk? Here? Are you serious?”

“I’m not fuckin’ drunk.” Steve scowled.

“Then quit fucking staring at me.” Javi frowned. “Or else people’ll think you’re sweet on me.”

It had been a throwaway line. A joke meant to break the tension. Something that Javi had said to Steve a thousand times before and gotten a “fuck you” or a laugh from. But as the words left his mouth, Javi watched in fascination as Steve’s face flushed, his eyes trained on Javi’s lips and a flicker of embarrassment danced across his handsome face.

“Fuck this.” Steve muttered, pushing himself up from his desk abruptly and striding out of the office space. “I need a break.”

Javi just sat there watching Steve’s ass as he left, the realization of the moment hitting him and twisting inside him uncomfortably. Sure, he’d been lusting after Steve since the blond had landed in Bogotá, but Steve was married. And up until very recently happily married. Lusting after someone he knew he couldn’t have was one thing, Javi was used to it whenever he met a handsome man. But the slither of possibility that Steve’s eyes had offered him just then was something Javi hadn’t had to deal with before, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

#####

Steve hadn’t returned to his desk by the time the sky went dark outside and the men of the Search Bloc were chatting about calling it a day. Glancing around as they filled out, Javi knew he had to go find Steve, but quietly without drawing attention. Grabbing his gun, jacket and pack of cigarettes, Javi set out to start checking all the places the blond could have slipped off to.

It had taken a surprisingly short amount of time to find Steve. After checking the cafeteria, bunks and bathrooms, Javi had remembered something Steve had said about an unsecured outbuilding on the every edge of the school grounds where Search Bloc, and themselves, were now based. It was filled with old boxes of files, the original contents of which were far too water damaged to make sense of. Whatever it had originally been used for, Javi had no idea, but as he quietly made his way over to the boarded up structure, sure enough there was a small light inside.

Sitting on a chair that looked like it was a stiff breeze away from collapsing was Steve, thumbing through a very beat up looking magazine. At his feet an old lantern was giving off a soft warm glow, although how wise it was to have that in a room filled with paper, Javi wasn’t sure. Approaching the slightly ajar door, Javi coughed lightly, prompting Steve to quickly roll up the magazine and raise his head to meet his partner’s gaze before dropping it back down slowly.

“What are you doing out here, Murphy?” Javi slipped inside before leaning against the door frame. The whole room smelt of damp, musty paper and sweat.

“Just thinkin’.” Steve offered a lopsided smile, still not meeting Javi’s eyes. “You were lookin’ for me?”

“Course I was.” Javi took a step forward to crouch in front of Steve, trying to get him to look at Javi. “Was worried about you.”

“Yeah?” Steve let out a mirthless laugh. “I’m ok. I just needed…” Steve trailed off, shrugging and running his thumb over the worn magazine.

“Look, about before-”

“Forget it.” Steve shook his head. “Look, get outta here, man. You’ve got better things to do than babysit my sorry ass.”

“True.” Javi gave a small laugh. “But I don’t want to just leave you here like… this. You wanna go grab a drink?”

Steve just shook his head. “Not really in a social mood.”

“Fair enough.” Javi nodded, letting silence fill the space. Not moving from his position in front of Steve, Javi found his eyes being drawn to the rolled up magazine that the other man was still clutching.

Steve had rolled it up as soon as Javi had come in, not letting the other man get a look at what it was. Small pieces of the faded cover peeked out from between Steve’s fingers, and Javi knew immediately what kind of magazine it was. He had plenty of them at home and the more he looked, the more skin he could see, then a nipple. Yeah, he had plenty of these at his apartment.

Looking over Steve slyly, Javi started to take in the details he’d missed when he’d first entered the small building. Steve’s flushed cheeks, the crumpled up pieces of paper he’d used to clean up with, and the most obvious, the not quite zipped up fly of his jeans.

“You, er, you want me to leave you for some more quality alone time?” Javi chuckled, motioning to the magazine in Steve’s hand, watching as the other man’s face grew redder.

“It’s not like that.” Steve’s eyes shot up. “I mean, I just found it and-”

“Hey, I’m not judging.” Javi held his hands up in mock surrender. “You know how many of those I’ve got at my place? Which one is it, maybe I’ve got it?”

Steve didn’t answer, his hands curling tighter around the magazine, as his eyes studied Javi’s face. At first, Javi was confused. Sure, Steve was married, but every guy jacks off, right? So what if he’d found a dirty magazine and spanked one out. But then, achingly slowly, it started to dawn on Javi why Steve was reacting like this. The beads of sweat on his temple, his large dark pupils as he watched Javi lick his bottom lip, the twitch under his jeans that not even the thick denim could hide.

“Like I said,” Javi swallowed hard, locking eyes with Steve, “maybe I’ve got that one.”

Steve nodded, understanding Javi’s meaning, and slowly loosened his grip on the magazine. Gradually, it unfurled in Steve’s trembling hand, letting Javi get a better glimpse at the oiled up ass cheeks on the man on the cover. Huh, he did have that one at home, Javi thought as he pushed down an amused chuckle.

“You got a favorite in there?” Javi growled out, locking his eyes with Steve’s again as he reached for the zipper of the other man’s jeans. “I like the one near the end. The one dressed like a cowboy.” Tugging the denim open, Javi carefully pulled out Steve’s hardening cock. “I like his ass. You?”

“Yeah.” Steven nodded, licking his lips and shifting his hips to help Javi free his dick. “Yeah, he’s… he’s hot. Nice thick… fuck… nice cock.”

“Yeah.” Javi began to slowly pump Steve, pulling a gasp from the blond. “You know, I used to watch the guys my dad would hire. There was one, when I was about 16, he’d get changed in the barn. He knew I watched.”

“You ever… fuck… you ever do anythin’ with him?” Steve moaned out, bucking his hip slightly as Javi stroked his cock steadily.

“First cock I ever sucked.” Javi chuckled, reaching out with his other hand to clumsily free his own trapped erection. “You ever done anything like this before?”

“No.” Steve’s voice was little more than a whisper as his eyes drifted down to Javi’s thick cock. “Fuck, can we… I mean… shit…”

“Not here.” Javi continued to pump both cocks, gently thumbing over Steve’s head to collect the precum that was beginning to flow. “But another time, somewhere more private. Sure. We can have some fun.”

“Fuck.” A small smile creeped across Steve’s lips as he let his head drop back, exposing his neck, while Javi began to pick up the pace.

The strokes had been slow at first as Javi tested how much Steve would let him do. So each stroke had been tender and leisurely, his fingers sliding down Steve’s shaft pulling quiet gasps and moans from the other man. But now Javi needed to come, he needed to watch Steve come. The spell might break any second, someone could come find them, anything could happen that could mean this might be the only chance Javi got.

Javi’s pumps became more rhythmic, quicker, as he stroked himself and Steve in time. Another time, if he got another shot at this, he’d want to bring their erections together, to touch them, and let the friction of the other's shaft add to the heat. But for now Javi settled for this as his skin prickled with arousal. The coiling tension inside him building with each motion as his whole body throbbed with need.

Steve’s eyes were fixed on Javi’s hands, watching as his thick fingers skirted over hot flesh and pulsing veins coated in their own arousal. His plush lips were slightly parted, flushed as pink as his cheeks, and Javi longed to plunder Steve’s mouth. The only thing stopping him was the thought that actually might be too intimate just yet. A hand job was one thing, a kiss was another. An act more sensual than sexual. Javi didn’t want to rush Steve, he wanted to savor everything he could get.

They were both breathing heavier now, the burning fire inside them desperate to explode, so Javi increased the pace again. It was time for them to finish. And so Javi began to quicken his hand until the stroke turned into frenzied jerks that had Steve clasping a hand over his mouth and Javi biting down on his bottom lip. If anyone were to come in now, he wouldn’t be able to stop, wouldn’t be able to hide what they were doing together. So Javi pushed on, frantically pulling him and Steve to the edge.

Steve came first with a muffled cry. The thick white ropes flying from his cock, coating Javi’s hand and hitting his forearm. The hot release cooling on his skin as Steve trembled in his seat. Javi had only just let go of Steve’s dick and let himself fall back slightly to give the other man a good view before he too came. Letting his head drop back, Javi pinched his eyes shut and growled out a curse as he painted the floor of the room with his seed.

For a moment, the world melted away as Javi allowed himself to dissolve into the pleasure of the moment. His thighs shook as his whole body vibrated with his orgasm, and all Javi could do was ride the brief high. Finally, as it ebbed away, Javi opened his eyes to find Steve slumped in the chair gazing at him.

“Fuck.” Javi panted out, looking around the space for something to clean himself up with. Grabbing some crumpled paper and roughly wiping his arm and hands, Javi turned back to Steve.

The other man seemed in a daze, watching Javi without really seeing, his soft cock still hanging from his open jeans. Tucking himself away, Javi watched as Steve seemed to slowly come back to reality once Javi’s dick was out of view. In a flash, Steve redressed and ran a shaking hand down his flushed, glistening face.

“I… um… shit.” Steve frowned up at Javi.

Opening his mouth to answer, Javi jumped as voices began to drift in through the still ajar door. The two voices, both speaking Spanish, were still a way off, but the effect on Steve was immediate. Leaping up out of the chair, Steve rushed over to the door and peered out.

“Relax.” Javi tried to soothe him, taking in the scene in the area. Come spattered the floor, alongside gay porn, and the scent of sex hung in the air. “Come on, as soon as they pass we’ll leave. Get somewhere more… well… more private.”

Still staring out the door, Steve just nodded. Then after a few moments waved Javi over for the two of them to leave. Walking briskly across the campus, Javi could see Search Bloc officers jogging in the distance, others were walking and chatting while he and Steve made a beeline for the bunk room and straight to their sparse room. If only they knew of what the two gringos had just done in that outbuilding.

Once safely inside, Javi slumped down onto the thin mattress of his bed, while Steve shakily lit a cigarette before offering the pack to Javi. As they sat smoking in silence, Javi had a sinking feeling that this was never going to be mentioned again by Steve. Once the sun came up, it would be as though he never happened as far as Steve was concerned. He’d go back to trying to fix things with Connie, and Javi would have to return to his hookers. And the worst part was, Javi was almost sure he could live with that.

#javier peña #steve murphy #javier peña x steve murphy #steve murphy x javier peña #stavier #narcos #requested fic

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chronically-ghosted · 5 months

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I always thought the scene from Deadpool was hot where he and Vanessa are having hot sex mixed with food on Thanksgiving.

Maybe that with Joel or Javier P?

Ahhh, anon. this has been stewing in my brain since you sent it. And I know you said thanksgiving, but the line in this happened in, like, a single scene after the thanksgiving one! please forgive my timing!

kiss me ‘till I’m warm

rating: T

Pairing: jaiver peña x f!reader

word count: 1.6K

summary: a very drunk javi has something he wants to share with you.

warnings/tags: mentions of alcohol, drunkenness, one stupid joke, the absurdity of someone drunk off their ass trying to flirt, light kissing on body parts, references to smut, but ultimately this is fluffy as hell

a/n: wishing all of you a great start to your week as december plods along! shout out to the incredible @saradika for the divider!

🤍Masterlist

Javier Peña is a giggly drunk.

Not all the time, mind you, not always. Depends on the liquor, his mood, and what he’s had to eat that day – if anything at all. But given the right circumstances and the stars align, once in a blue moon, Javier blushes and giggles like a fourteen year old with a first crush.

Now, that might come as a surprise to anyone who has seen him lurking around the hallways of the American Embassy, scowling and smelling of stale cigarettes. The women he used to visit would swear up and down that Javier Peña was not a giggly drunk, having seen him knock back a drink or two, or three, or five. Certainly, all the narcos he’d rounded up and captured would be rather offended to hear that about the man who sent them to prison. It would shock them all to hear that, in the end, it was eggnog. Eggnog, the creamy, thick holiday drink that in terms of calories and sugar blew every other frappuccino out of the water – it was eggnog that turned Javier’s world upside down. From frown-set smokestack, to someone who wanders into his girlfriend’s bedroom after her office party and nearly blows his knee out on the bed frame.

“Javier, honey, are you okay?” You scramble towards where he tripped, expecting either blood or for him to be knocked on conscious. But instead, you just see fluff. White fluff. White fluff that proceeds red velvet, more fluff, and then thick dark hair.

Javier stands up, grinning from ear to ear. He stretches his arms wide, his white undershirt thin on his chest. He arches further, revealing a dusting of hair below the hem of his shirt that disappears into the waistband of his jeans. Well, when his pants are buttoned.

“Tada!” he beams. You roll your eyes and he giggles, following you on his hands and knees as you crawl back to your spot by the pillows. You had come in here to get some lotion for your hands and despite your insistence that he does not leave the couch, he stumbled in after you.

“Pero, mi amor,” he pouts when he sits on his knees behind you, “te fuiste.”

“You poor thing,” you frown at him over your shoulder as you rub the lotion into your hands, then your knees. His eyes bob between your tits through your sleep shirt and your circular motions over your skin. You narrow your eyes at him when his mouth goes slack and his eyes dark. “Oh, absolutely not, Javier. You are drunk as a skunk and about two minutes away from passing out.”

He rolls his eyes and leans forward, wobbling slightly as he crawls towards you. “Please?”

“No.”

“¿Por favor?”

“No!”

You frown, suspicious, when he chuckles as he loosely grabs you by the ankles, thumbs pressed in below the knot of bone. His shirt is loose enough you can see down the collar to his tanned chest. It’s not like the idea isn’t enticing, but you’d only seen him this drunk once before after the Christmas party at Steve and Connie’s two years ago. He made the same proposition back then and when he went to lie down on the floor to take his pants off, you looked over the bed to find him passed out, spread eagle and only his belt undone.

“Bien, bien,” he waves his hand in the air, the cotton ball of his Santa hat falling over his eyes, “pero tengo un chiste para ti.”

Another sign that Javier had reached the point of no return: he spoke much more in Spanish and the words blurred together, as if sticking on top of each other.

You eye him with faux annoyance when he uses your legs to pull himself in between your ankles. He kisses the tops of your knees, his palms warm beneath the weight of your calf muscles. Giddy and care-free until he wakes up with a pounding headache, drunk Javier is something you always cherished, because it is one of the few times he can be care-free. Relaxed. You are the only person he lets see him like this and you would protect that vulnerability with everything in your heart.

“Javier.” He hums, his teeth against your knee and dropping lower. His eyes are closed and his breathing’s changed. “I think you had something you wanted to tell me.”

He blinks, open mouth freezing on the bone of your calf. “Right. Yeah. Of course, mi vida.”

That heady, blurred look of desire on his face melts away almost as fast as it came on. He presses the arch of his nose against your other knee, giggling, as he readjusts his feet under him.

“Okay, okay,” he sniffs, sits up, and looks at you with bleary, water-y brown eyes. “Steve told it to me, so if you don’t think it’s funny, it’s his fault.”

You nod and then he taps the inside of your thigh with two fingers.

“If your left leg is Thanksgiving y tu pierna derecha es Navidad,” he outright gropes your other thigh, his slur worsening, mouth full of damp, gummy cotton balls. “Can I visit you entre días festivos?

Javier Peña raises a single eyebrow at you, as if he had been the first one to discover pick up lines, perfected the art of flirting, and discovered he had the ritz to seduce any woman in the world all in one night. His hands tighten in the meat of your inner thighs as he pushes them apart, his chest pressing forward, down, into you. With surprising dexterity and stability, he crawls between your open legs, hands firm as they plant on either side of your head. He’s still wearing that infuriatingly smug grin, his hips rolling forward until you feel the scrape of the teeth of his jeans on your thigh.

“What do you say, baby?” his teeth edge the rim of your ear, “¿p-p-puedo –,”

He full-on snorts in your ear, suddenly overcome with giggles and you jerk away. “Javi!”

You pinch his waist and he flops over on to the other side of the bed, his face turning red as he howls with laughter. His Santa hat pushed up over his forehead, the back of his hair sticking up from where he’s nestled against the pillows, Javier clutches his sides as he rolls back and forth.

You sit up, smiling, and watch the man you love enjoy himself for once. Sure, he could (and did, often) get lost in sex, but this is different. Your mother always said there was something healing about laughter, about feeling safe enough to close your eyes around another person, and Javier had spent far too long with his eyes wide open.

Tears are streaming down his cheeks by the time you pluck the Santa hat off his head and kiss his forehead. Giggles trickling down, he curls onto his side, his bare feet seemingly so large on your covers. You stroke his cheek, your thumb brushing the corner of his mustache, and the last giggle fades to a hum. He closes his eyes, cheeks pink, his head turning ever so slightly towards your touch.

“Do you need some water, baby?”

“Mhm hmm.”

Kissing him on his nose, you slide off the bed and go towards the kitchen. After filling up a glass from the filter, you turn off the lights, check the front door, and close the blinds. But when you come back to your bedroom, the golden light of your bedside lamp the only glow left in the entire apartment, you know instantly he’s already asleep. Javier lies still curled up on his side, his wide shoulders curled in, the white expanse of his t-shirt rising and falling with each breath.

You didn’t know him very well the first time you slept together, but the night he stayed over, all the way until the morning light broke through your shutters, you knew it had been an extraordinary step for him.

Now he sleeps in your bed, unguarded and unburdened, as much as he can.

You put the glass of water on his side of the bed and gently ease him onto his back. His arm slithers over his torso as his shoulder collides with the mattress, his matted hair where the hat sat in a line stiff against his forehead.

In his more morose moments, Javier announced he was getting old. His back hurt, his eyesight was shit, and he swears he spots more and more gray hairs in the mirror every day.

But, when he’s like this, when he’s Javi not Javier, when he’s just yours and no one else’s, he is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

A hand pressed to his warm chest, you lean forward and kiss his cheek.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” you whisper against his skin. He stirs, but doesn’t open his eyes.

Sliding your earrings out of their posts and into the little dish beside your bed, you glance at him one more time before turning off the light. The room is dark, warm, and in the emptiness you can hear him breathing.

The shape of him is more familiar to you than your own, able to trace his profile with nothing but memory, so without searching, as though reaching for a piece of yourself, you intertwine your hand with his.

His fingers twitch and the sound of his breathing slows.

In the absence of every other sense, you are overwhelmed by the weight of his palm in yours, the soothing rock of the rise and fall of his chest, your ears tuned to his every sigh, every noise –

In the absence of everything else, you listen to him inhale –

“Merry Christmas, baby.”

– and exhale.

#merry thanksgiving nonsense 2023 #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena fluff #javi peña #javier pena #javier pena fanfiction

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akisunlovesnalu · 2 months

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Every Witch Way

A fic that I wrote inspired by this photo. Originally I wanted it to become a detective fic but my brain spiraled and I ended up with this. It became an adventure mystery story and of course, the government hates them :) I liked the idea of them traveling through the desert and I'm not too sure where the guild fit in this but just know that all Magicians (Witches) are in hiding because society believes they are evil. Most normal people do not have magic so someone spread a theory that the only reason witches have magic is because of human sacrifices etc. It's important to note that witches want to keep their powers under wraps or else they will get reported to the authorities and sent to the hier-ups in the capital. Nobody knows what happens to the witches who are caught but they don't want to find out.

That might be some unnecessary background information so skip over that if you wish and enjoy!

When Lucy finds herself kidnapped by a ruthless group of bandits, the last thing she expects is to be saved by a witch with Pink hair and his talking blue cat. And she most certainly didn't expect to become their good friend and travel companion. Who knew evil sorcerers and government conspiracies can lead to unexpected friendships.

As the blond girl dragged herself, hands tied together in front of her, and sand covered bare feet weakly trailing after her, she realized how fast camels might actually be. You see, in all of the stories she had read so far, none of them did the four legged beast's speed any justice. They never quite described how hard it was to keep up with them. It was always “The creature was big” or “The creature was furry” but never “When kidnapped by a group of bandits, tied to and forced to stumble behind a literal camel, it may be hard to keep up.”

See if any of the books had written that in, maybe Lucy Hearfillia might be faring better in her situation. But alas, she was not.

“Stop lagging behind, blondie!” One of the men snarled, pulling on the rope to further demonstrate his annoyance. Lucy stumbled forward, struggling to stay upright. She hung her head low, very aware of the menacingly bright sun and quietly sighed.

Oh what she would do to somehow get out of this unfortunate turn of events.

She has probably been traveling together with these no good thieves for about 3 hours. After being abducted from the only good town in this godforsaken desert, the men forced her to follow them, ignoring her cries of where she was and demands to let her go. She gave up eventually of course. Not even her vocal cords could handle the immense heat that came with the dry deserted area.

“Hey boss.” The big one said, glancing over at her with furrowed brows. He had been the one to capture her in the first place. Of course Lucy could have easily taken him on but… a moment's hesitation was all they needed to successfully tie her up and steal her ring of keys. Aquarius was going to kill her!

“Not that I really want to, but... Should we give the chick some water?”

The man in front of the big one grunted, his blueish hair blowing with the small breeze and clearly showing off his strange X-like tattoo. Lucy watched on with little interest as a bead of sweat traveled down his forehead.

“I wouldn’t bother.” He scoffed. “Every time we’ve tried, she just spits it back up. Plus, earlier she tried to bite off Javier’s finger, do you really want to risk it?” He raised an eyebrow.

The man in question made a whining noise, clutching his injured hand to his chest and glaring at their prisoner with watery eyes. He mockingly raised the water bottle to his mouth, chugging it in an attempt to get a rise out of her. Lucy rolled her eyes, instead looking back down at the smooth sand beneath her feet.

The big one made a noise of understanding. “Even after we lied about it not being drugged too-”

Javier spit up the water that he was previously chugging, shakily putting the top back on and storing it back inside of the camel's holding bag.

“You idiot!” ‘Boss’ hissed, turning a piercing glare unto the man beside him. “She still didn’t know-” He paused, glancing over at their very interested prisoner and forced himself to take a deep breath. “You know what, it doesn't matter, she'll be fine.”

“But, Bora-”

“She’ll be fine!” The man who Lucy now knew as Bora raised a fist threateningly. He smirked in sick pleasure as his henchmen coward away. Before she even had time to pull a face of disgust, he turned to Lucy, eyeing her hungrily. “Now, let's get a move on. The employer is expecting us by sundown and I'd rather not have the sun beating down on me any longer than necessary.”

The rest of his men tiredly murmured in agreement, picking up the pace and forcing the blond girl to — once again —trudge through the slippery sand. She hissed as her feet pricked on some sort of stick-like plant. Oh Mavis if she could just reach into the pouch hanging off of Bora’s belt-

“I don’t see the issue, it’s not even that hot.” A new voice said, startling the crew of 14 bandits plus Lucy herself. Her head snapped up for the first time in a while. Ignoring the ache in her neck, the girl rapidly searched the area until settling upon a man with… pink hair.

He didn’t look too shocked to see a kidnapped girl tied to a Camel. Nor did he bat an eye at the blue cat that sat on his head, lazily playing with the goggles that held his hair out of his face (Did she mention that it was pink!?). And his attire looked so incredibly… bold that Lucy was sure she would faint. Seriously, who was stupid enough to travel through the desert in a black long sleeve shirt, a tan vest and a literal scarf. It was like the guy was begging to get a heat stroke.

She had immediately decided that whoever this man was, he was insane.

“Now.” He grinned, getting into a fighting stance. “What was it you said about an employer?”

Oh look now he wanted to fight off an entire group of bandits. Lucy scoffed. Definitely insane.

Where did he even come from?

Bora snarled, holding up a hand and signaling his guys to pounce on the man wearing freaking cargo pants. Once again, the pink haired freak didn’t even flinch. He stayed rooted to his spot, grinning a wide smile and daring one of them to come at him.

They did, of course, and to Lucy’s surprise were blasted back by a large ring of—

“Fire!”

Well that certainly explains a lot.

Even after that big scare, the men were back on “Mr. cargo pants” as soon as Bora sent each and every one of them a snarl. The blond snorted as soon enough, all 14 men were on the floor, some of them even halfway in the sand and halfway not.

Bora’s horrified face soon turned back into a scowl as he fully processed Lucy’s teasing. He jumped off of the Camel, ignoring a curious looking “Mr. cargo pants” and stomping over to her.

“Something Funny?” He said.

“Yeah, actually.” She chuckled some more, tugging on the rope in silent frustration. “Looks like you're about to get your ass handed to you.”

Bora growled, raising his hand in an attempt to threaten her. Lucy eye’d it wearily, but made no attempt to move out of its path. To her pleasure that seemed to aggravate the man even more.

“I’ll show you!” He cried and Lucy's breath hitched as he brought his hand down to strike her across the face…

The sound of skin hitting skin somehow echoed throughout the desert and Lucy was sure her face was stinging a bright red…

Except it wasn’t… to be honest she felt no pain. Almost as if she hadn’t been hit at all… Cracking her eyes open she realized that a figure stood in front of her, effectively blocking both the sun and her view of Bora. At this, the girl was finally able to piece together what happened.

Bora had aimed for her face, only for his wrist to be caught by “Mr. cargo pants” himself.

What an interesting turn of events indeed.

Lucy was quite surprised by how calm she was in this type of situation. No other girl would be able to keep a straight face as they were surrounded in an alleyway, tied up, and forced onto a camel, only to be saved by a strange man (who was definitely insane) that kicked ass and breathed fire. Though if anything she’d have to blame it on experience.

The silence was interrupted by a snarl, one almost inhuman. Bora shrieked, snatching his hand away and forcibly putting a distance between him and this insane man.

“H-how dare you!” Bora shrieked, reaching into his belt and pulling out a knife. Lucy’s eyes flashed onto the leather pouch before giving the man a hard glare.

“You’re one of those demons aren't you!” His voice shook but was filled with so much venom. “The horrible bastards that turn to rituals and blood sacrifices in favor of magical powers!?”

Mr. Cargo pants made no attempt to move, only stared Bora straight in the eyes with an unreadable expression.

“So what if I am?” He answered.

Lucy felt her lips turn into a frown.

“Then you’re worse than me!” The man laughed maniacally, waving his knife around as he spoke. “Why bother saving this chick with magic earned by bloodlust? Wait…” He gasped dramatically looking at Lucy and then back at Mr. Cargo pants.

“Oh…” he cackled this time, using a shaky hand to clutch his side. “You probably need her right? For another sacrifice?”

As he continued with his dumb speach Lucy felt her patience slipping. She bit her lip, tugging on the rope once again with no success. She growled, now desperate enough to be pulling against the weight of a freaking Camel.

“Let’s make a deal, hm?” Bora held the knife to his mouth in thought. “I’ll let you take her for just a bit of cash. I’m sure you and your demon friends would love such delicate, pure hearted prey right? Blah Blah Blah Blah-”

Lucy tuned him out and her pink-haired savior still made no move to attack, only balling his fists and taking deep breaths. She understood… the need to prove him wrong… to just shut him up! Which was what she was planning on doing! As soon as she got rid of this stupid rope-

Her savior lunged, slapping the knife out of the bandit's hand and catching him by the neck so quickly that Lucy had to blink, just to make sure she had actually witnessed that.

Bora struggled against his grip, clawing at his arm as he gasped for breath. “Y-you…” He coughed. “You monster!”

The pink haired boy dropped him, cracking his knuckles as Bora attempted to crawl away.

“Hit me with your best shot!” He screeched. “Monster!”

And that’s when Lucy’s attention was directed towards a flying blue blob. It took her a minute to realize that the blue blob was the cat previously perched atop her savior's head. She couldn’t help the small shriek that erupted from her throat as the cat landed directly in front of her, a look of pride overtaking its face.

“Hold on!” It cried, using its claws to slowly cut away at the thick rope. Lucy stood stock still, mouth wide as she watched a cat! a talking cat, free her from her ‘Camel Prison’...

This day just kept getting weirder and weirder.

She felt the rope loosen up and took that moment to slip her hands free.

She rubbed her wrists, absentmindedly thanking the (blue, flying, taking-) cat and zoning back in on the fight. Well… what she thought would be a fight. Instead, Lucy saw Mr. Cargo Pants kneeling by a tied up and unconscious Bora, checking his pulse with a bored look in his eyes.

The girl wanted to laugh at how quickly that ‘battle’ had ended. In fact, she did laugh! How could she not? Here was Bora, big bandit leader with unquestionable power over his 14 lakey’s, beaten black and blue after a fight that had barely even lasted a minute.

Pathetic.

Lucy was almost ashamed to have put her morals over her own safety. Taking on this guy would have been a sinch, the rest would have probably run away with their tails between their legs.

The girl released a breath, finally finished with her laughing fit. She wiped a tear from beneath her eye, grinning wide at her two saviors.

“You’ve got guts!” The cat… the blue, flying, talking cat.. Spoke. It spoke… Lucy felt her face twist in confusion.

“Thank you…?”

Mr. Cargo pants finished tying up the rest of the men and strode over to them, his arms crossed over his chest as he gave her a somewhat proud look. “Happy’s right y’know. I’ve never seen another girl in your situation stand up to their captor…” He paused before quietly adding. “Well maybe Erza but I doubt she’d get captured in the first place…”

“Happy’s?” Lucy questioned, raising her brow. “What do you mean?”

“That’s Happy.” He stated matter factly, pointing over to the flying cat- Holy Mavis, this would take some getting used to. It waved. Lucy numbly waved back.

Mr. Cargo Pants held out his hand in greeting. “And I’m Natsu!” Oh well that’s good, he’s got a name. Mr. Cargo Pants was starting to seem a bit bland based on his earlier performance. Maybe she’d just call him Fire Freak, pyromaniac for short?

“Hey Natsu.” The girl smiled kindly, getting over her initial shock and shaking his hand. He held onto her hand for longer than necessary, his grip strong. The pink-haired traveler held her gaze, dark onyx eyes practically burning into her soul. His calloused hand gave her own one last squeeze before he let go, looking around as if nothing just happened.

“What're you doing this far out in the desert anyways?”

Lucy blinked, her brain taking a minute to compute after his strange display of… comradery? “I was… Traveling.” She admitted.

“With them?” Natsu and Happy blinked, looking back at the pile of motionless body’s. Finally the boy turned back to her, shaking his head and clicking his teeth. “Man, you need to get yourself some better travel companions.”

“N-no!” She barked. “I was kidnapped while traveling! Are you an idiot!”

“Well why didn’t you just say so?”

Lucy ground her teeth in frustration. One more word out of this man’s mouth and she’d be wanted for murder. She rolled her eyes. What a scatter brain.

“Well, thank you for saving me.” She settled with, surveying the litter of body’s decorating the wide desert floor. “Can I ask you to direct me towards the closest town?”

Natsu nodded his head, pointing in a direction. “We’re actually headed to one right now. Care to join?”

“... Sure!” Lucy agreed after a bit of hesitation. She turned around and untied her very important pouch from her precious Camel Captor.

“Thanks for keeping these safe, I guess.” She said to it. The camel snorted out a noise of disinterest as Lucy stroked it’s neck.

Natsu let out a snort, turning away and whistling casually as Lucy sent him a hard glare. She may have been forcefully tied to and painfully dragged across the desert by this Camel, but still, she felt a sense of comradery between them. She was going to miss him…

As Lucy turned to leave, the camel let out a large glob of spit, barely missing her head. The girl shrieked and ran to catch up to a curious Natsu.

She takes it back. That damn animal won't be missed. Not one bit.

#fairytail natsu #fairy tail #lucy fairy tail #fairy tail happy #nalu #nalufanfic #fairy tail official art #fairy tail fanfiction #lucy heartifilla #natsu dragneel #natsu x lucy #fairy tail au

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verdemoun · 1 month

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hey have you ever considered in jovier but johnigail endgame there's a parallel between javier and john's relationship and dutch and hosea's relationship where there is a clear romantic connection they never actualized despite both knowing they loved each other because life happened and while john loves abigail more than dutch ever loved molly he recognizes javier still loved him the same way hosea still loved dutch

do you think it haunts and terrifies john how similar he is to dutch. do you think when he watched javier in that prison cell knowing he was sending him to his death, just like dutch sent hosea to his death, he wanted to trade places with him. for a second he wished he'd been one left behind a relic of their pasts while javier found someone (else) he loved and got out

#jovier #johnigail #guess who's been playing rdr1 #guess who's only capable of making sad hcs #course dutch sent hosea to his death inadvertently but also inevitably and i personally do not think john would have ever forgiven that

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labrxnth · 9 months

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Prison Break- Part 2 (Leon Kennedy x Reader series)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

CW: Death Island spoilers (obviously), suicidal thoughts/tendencies

WC: 1858

Summary: You and your field partner Leon continue your search for Doctor Antonio Taylor on Alcatraz

A/N: Sorry This was late, I had a busy schedule and major writer’s block

The first thing you noticed about the harbor is that it smelled like salt. Saltiness and almost a tackiness filled the air as you looked out of the rolled down window. Your hand traced circles on the car seat absentmindedly as you watched the boats and people the car was speeding past.

“What’re you thinking?” Leon asked, his hand drifting dangerously close to yours. When he got to an inch away, he stopped, his hand giving a deadly space between the two. If you were paying full attention, it would’ve made you upset, but for some reason this mission really wasn’t sitting right with you.

Call it survivor’s gut or intuition, but this mission was sitting funky in your stomach.

You took a deep breath and turned your head to face your partner. “I don’t like this… Maria being involved with Taylor means that someone like Arias wants a robotics engineer,” You answered and shifted a bit in your seat.

“I don’t like it either,” Leon replied. The two of you were always good at having each other’s back and making the other one feel validated. That was your whole friendship, being the person that each other needed.

You were the person Leon needed after, well, everything he had gone through. Raccoon City, Project Javier, Los Illuminados and Simmons were hard for him to shoulder alone. His life felt like a dark and foggy hallway, a trail of blood and cynicism following him. But in the midst of everything, you were a light. You were with him through everything for the past few years, carrying a candle filled with your aura that scared off the darkness and the fog in his hallway.

You were the one person who hadn’t run away or died, and he’d like to keep it that way.

He was the one person he hadn’t run away or died, and you would like to keep it that way.

Leon S. Kennedy was an enigma to you when you first started working for the D.S.O. under recommendation from Hunnigan. Through the past few years of working together, the two of you started out as drinking buddies then quickly became actual friends. It was over for you when you looked into his eyes and saw who he truly was for the first time. The mission in New York, the summit, the look on Leon’s face were all seared into your mind. His blue eyes tossing your heart just like a human thrown overboard into a vast ocean.

But you were convinced the look he gave you that night was just for your façade; the role the two of you played. If you never spoke life into your feelings, he never had to reject you.

“You’re doing it again,” Leon’s voice cut through your memories; bringing you back to the streets of San Francisco and dragging you away from the dinner party in New York.

“Huh?” You asked, blinking a few times, trying to adjust to the setting Sun in your eyes.

“Getting lost in that big head of yours,” He replied and chuckled lightly. “You do that more lately…. Ever since that mission in NYC.” His eyes looked at you, almost as if searching for an answer for an unasked question.

“I’ve just been thinking about things,” You said, trying to pass it off as nothing.

“Thinking about…..?” Leon asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Life stuff… like if fighting half dead people and gross science experiments is gonna be the rest of my life,” you said, making an excuse. You didn’t like to lie to Leon, but this one thing you made an exception for. And it was true, sometimes you did think about how your life has taken a turn after college.

Leon hummed in response, looking out his own window. The autumnal setting sun reflected in his eyes and hair, making his irises shine like diamonds and his hair shining a dirty blonde in the rays. When the sun hit him, it was a reminder of who he was, the dirty blonde hair and full blue eyes that he had that night in Raccoon City. He thought that Rookie Cop died that day, but maybe all he needed was a constant sun in his life; someone who brought his hope back.

“Don’t start thinking about that stuff, it’ll drag you down,” he warned. “Trust me.” His voice had an edge to it that you had only heard a few times before. The edge that reflected a tinge of sadness, but resilience.

The car stopped at the dock, you and Leon getting out of the Uber and taking in your surroundings. To the public, the only way to get to Alcatraz was a ferry tour, but luckily the two of you could call in a few favors and pull a few strings.

“Follow me, the boat should be at the Marina.” Leon said. He walked in front of you, making his way towards the docks. With no other option, you walked with him, trying not to look at how his blue shirt hugged his biceps a little too well.

The two of you quickly made your way towards a boat with a big branded D.S.O. logo on it.

“Couldn’t have been more covert?” You asked flatly.

“Gotta warn them before we blow their shit up,” Leon said, half joking. He got in the boat, slinging his duffle bag off his shoulder and putting it on a seat. You climbed on after him and looked around the small speed boat.

“You sure this thing has ballistics?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s American, it can blow something up as long as you try hard enough,” He replied with his shit-eating grin. You chuckled in reply and got into the seat next to him, giving him the chance to drive for once. Leon noticed you not fighting for the wheel and he took the opportunity to start the boat and pull out of the Marina.

“So, (Y/n),” He said, putting the boat in drive and starting to steer to Alcatraz. “I’ve been thinking…” He added.

“That’s never a good thing,” You said snarkily and chuckled a bit.

“Very funny,” Leon said and rolled his eyes.

“But for real, what’s up?” You asked and looked at him. He was really focusing on what to say with how much his eyebrows were knitted and the lines next to his eyes were visible.

“It’s bad timing… we can talk about it later,” he said and looked at you, smiling.

You shrugged, thinking nothing of it. The sun setting over the bay was beautiful, it being the only thing that could peel your attention away from Leon. Your eyes tracked the sun, squinting slightly at how bright it was, but smiling at how the waves reflected the red and orange haze it was.

You went to say something to Leon and saw the same look in his face that you’d only seen once before. Amidst fancy clothes, cocktails, and fake friendships, was Leon’s face having the same look as he did now.

It was gone when he realized your eyes had met his. In a blink of an eye, he was back to his normal, scanning the area with a neutral facial expression.

Leon parked the boat at the back of the island and the two of you put on your combat gear: vests, harnesses, etc. once you two were ready to go, you were getting out of the boat and heading towards a tunnel opening.

“Munitions tunnel, should get us in,” You said and nodded towards it. Leon nodded in response and followed you into the tunnel. Eventually, the tunnel opened up to sewers, you two finally being able to fully stand up.

You turned to Leon to say something when you heard a loud BANG! The two of you locked eyes and your handguns were both drawn, aimed towards the other end of the sewers where the explosion came from.

After walking forwards a bit, the sewer split two ways, one to your left and one ahead. The sewers were set up on a block system, like a city.

“I’ll go forward, you go left,” Leon said and turned his ear com on. You nodded, copying his movements and doing the same.

The two of you gave each other a nod and separated hesitantly. Whenever the two of you separated, things never went well. Understandably, it was a necessity, but it still never went well.

You turned your flashlight on and walked to the left, then down the hallway. The light illuminated the tunnel and the sinking feeling you had gotten earlier hadn’t gone away. With Leon gone, it got more prominent.

Your boots hit the cobblestone, echoing with each footstep. Looking around, you were finding absolutely nothing. Out of the corner of your eye, the flash light reflected off of something metallic. You turned towards where the shimmer had come from and found an indented doorknob.

Silently, your hand opened the door and you slipped through it, closing it just as quietly as you opened it. Overhead lights turned on and revealed you to be in a hallway. Holding your gun up, supported by your flash light, you kept on forward.

The door at the other end of the hallway was open, revealing a more open hallway. As you walked, a small electronic buzz hit your ears as you saw one of the security cameras move.

“(Y/n), (L/n) how interesting,” A voice over the PA system said. You swiveled around, your gun up, staying silent.

A sharp pain hit the back of your neck and your hand shot to where the pain was coming from, feeling nothing unusual. Your eyelids fluttered shut as the world went dark and your knees buckled, sending your body falling towards the floor.

“At least you’ll bring me Leon Kennedy.” The voice added.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

Leon marched on forward, trying to keep his head in the mission. Usually, he was good at compartmentalizing and having a one track mind for the mission. That was, until you became his partner; even now, he was worried about how you were faring.

He knew you could handle yourself, but still he worried about you. He didn’t want you getting hurt, or worse, like everyone else in his life.

Leon heard the sound of boots hitting the cobblestone path in front of him and held his gun up, ready to shoot. He rounded the corner and the barrel of his gun got grabbed, sending him into a sprawl. Him and the other person he was fighting with were both trying not to wind up in the sewer water, dangerously close to their feet.

After a few seconds of exchanges, Leon recognized the familiar brown color of hair he was fighting. His eyes finally adjusted to the darkness and he took in the bigger picture, seeing an all too familiar face. The two of them backed off of each other and took the other in.

“Well, if it isn’t Jill Valentine.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

Catch it early on my A03!

#resident evil fanfic #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil fanfiction

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cerridwen007 · 1 year

Text

Put him in his Place.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Word count: 3k (18+)

Summary: Javier comes home from a particularly hard day at work and instead of being able to help him relax and take his mind off work like you usually can, he snaps at you causing you to put him in his place.

Notes/warnings: SMUT,established relationship,oral (female and male receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, slapping, rough sex, switch reader, switch Javier, powerplay, dirty talk, Javi being a cocky little brat.

A/N: This is the very first smut I've finished and am posting to Tumblr, so please let me know what you think/ what I can improve on. I'm pretty shit at editing but I looked over it a few times so hopefully it's okay/easy to read. Also when I was writing the start I kept thinking the song Sunny by Bobby Hebb would work really well with it for some reason. Like I was picturing it like a scene in a movie,(spoiler) Javi and reader just aggressively making out to that happy song haha, which I honestly don’t know if it's been done before. So if you wanted to maybe play that song just as you are about to start reading and see if it fits. Sorry for the long author's notes. Hope you enjoy it!

Javier and you have been rocky ever since Pablo Escobar got put in prison, a jail of his own design that was basically the opposite of a jail. Yes, Javier has been stressed since you met about work but now more than ever his stress has been through the roof.

Usually you were able to calm him down with a drink and some "relief" and he would be fairly relaxed till something else at work came up. You understood it was a stressful job and a stressful case. You just hoped it would be over soon because seeing Javier stressed all the time killed you a little inside. Although you didn't mind one bit helping him relax in more ways than one. Tonight was a bit different though.

Javier opened the door hard, making a loud bang, he slammed his fist against the door shutting it. "Fucken hell!" You cringed a little at the loud noises before walking over to greet him in the most soothing voice you could. "Hi Javi, baby, how was your day?" It didn't work. Instead of responding "not the best but atleast I'm here with you now" like he usually did before giving you a big long kiss, he angrily walks past you.

"I need a drink"

Before you can go to pour him one he grabs himself a full glass of whiskey and knocks it back in one go. He then starts pouring himself a second glass. You chime in trying to calm the lion. "Honey I made your favourite tonight! And after dinner maybe I could run you a nice hot bath, and then maybe I'll let you have a little show of my new lingerie set!"

Instead of scooping you up and taking you to the bedroom with a sly smirk on his face like you expected him to do he scoffs and shoots down his second drink of the night. He gets up and walks over to the door not even making eye contact with you.

"I'm going out, don't wait up."

You grab his wrist gently, "Hey I don't know what happened at work today, we can talk about it if you want but we don't have to but I don't think it's a good idea to drink your troubles away.

"God, nothing happened at work okay, stop mothering me and leave me like the rest do okay!"

His words hurt a little and they hurt hearing knowing he is hurting and that for some reason he doesn't want to confide in you about it or let you help him. But still you brushed them aside knowing that Javier struggled to open up sometimes.

"Okay I understand your upset Javi but please don't take this out on me okay I'm just trying to help you cause I care about you."

He pulls his wrist away from you and looks into your eyes with an anger you haven't ever seen in your shared home, a look that is only used when dealing with the most terrible criminals in Bogota.

"I’m not fucken taking anything out on you okay bitch, you're just being a clingy whiny child that won't leave me alone, for God's sake I need my space."

Something overcomes you, you are not ever an aggressive person even in the bedroom, and you knew that it was not the normal Javier speaking, no disrespecting, you like that and that he must have had a hell of shitstorm day at work but still, you needed to put him in his place.

You raise your hand and slap him fairly hard across his cheek. You immediately feel bad and go to apologise. " i...i...sorry I didn-"

"Do it again"

"What?"

"Slap me again, harder this time"

" if this is trap I don't want-"

"It's nothing like that, don't get me wrong I love how much you care despite what I said but this what I saw in your eyes as you slapped me, that passion, made me wanna ravage you all night."

Each word he speaks you see the desire grow in his eyes and the wetter you get.

"Stop talking."

You slap a little lower and harder on his jawline leaving a red mark that stings his smirking face. You both lunge at each other holding each other's face in your hands, lips pressed firmly against one another's, tongues slip in and out of eachothers mouth dancing around, encased in wetness.

Javier pushes you against the wall hard, smashing the glass of the picture frame behind you. You moan out in pain and pleasure. You push off the wall walking Javier backwards and your hands start roaming to each other's bodies each trying to get each other's clothes off as fast as possible. Your lips only break to catch your breaths and to get a better look at the buttons.

You push him up against the wall this time keeping you body close to his. He groans a little in pleasure as you do. He pushes off the wall and the shirts come off. In one quick movement he undoes your bra and hoists you up so your legs wrap around his hips. Throwing you against the wall harder times you both moan, you can feel his hard cock pushing against your waist.

He kisses down your jawline, down your neck to your breasts where he fondles them in his hands and sucks on the left nipple, the stimulation of one of your most sensitive areas causes you to moan loudly. You brace yourself with one hand on the wall palm flat. The other hand on the nape of Javi's neck moving up to his soft dark short hair.

He switches nipples, you grind against his cock hinting you want more as the desire builds up in you more and more. He takes the hint and pulls you off the wall putting his lips back against yours, hot and wet. His hands go down you back to your ass where they hold on for dear life. He backs into the bedroom. Your hand that was on the wall now holds his jaw. He turns around and throws you both down on the bed, him on top of you.

He strips your pants off you quickly before doing the same to himself. The heat between your legs rises seeing his toned tan arms flex as they literally rip your panties off you, pulling the shreds down your legs out of the way. He looks like a wild animal about to sink its teeth into prey, eyes alive with anger, hunger and lust. But you're not backing off in fear.

You pull him close to your body and roll so you're on top of him, and grab his member in his boxers firmly, he raises his hips and head up, his brows crease together overcome with pleasure with a tinge of pain. You grab the top of his head, his soft warm brown hair gripped between your white knuckles. Pulling a little you put him in his place.

"You won't do any of that till I tell you to.” you harshly whisper into his face, releasing his cock from your firm grip.

He stares in your eyes not breaking contact, his lips slightly turning into a smirk while his eyes are still very much alive with passion and hate.

"Oh yeah?" He growls

He flips you over so he is on top now. He grabs your wrists with one of his hands and raises it above your head. This is a play for power now. Javier liked your fire and control just as much as he likes having his own. So he wants to test to see how far you will go before you give into him.

"You're going to regret that" you say with a firm tone.

"Make me" he smirks

You lift your head to kiss him. He goes in for the kiss. You swerve and sink your teeth semi lightly into the crevice between his neck and shoulder, leaving a mark that will last a while. Javi pulls away and groans in pain, but is turned on more than ever. While he's distracted you pull your wrists apart from his hold and flip so you're on top again, straddling him.

"You're being a very bad boy," you hiss.

"Can't help it" he smiles, grinning.

You push firmly down on his chest and go to kiss the mark you gave him seconds before. You leave a trail of kisses and bites into his skins down his chest and stomach. He groans with every contact, each making his cock pulse in need of release. You make it to his boxes and pull them down slowly. You lick your lips and purse them around the tip of his dick. He whimpers quietly.

"I haven't even started yet baby and you're already whimpering, can't wait for you to start screaming my name."

You say smirking before putting your lips back on his throbbing dick, pushing the tip past your lips and adding a hand to his thick cock.

You start slow but quickly build momentum and his dick becomes slick with your spit and his precum. He fights the urge to buck his hips up and instead grips the sheets with one of his veiny hands and pushes some of your hair behind your ear with the other.

"F...fuck sweetheart.... you're too good at that!"

You smirk around his cock, your teeth lightly graze him for a second causing him to groan loudly. You fasten your strokes as he moans in total pleasure. You smirk to yourself knowing you almost got it out of him.

Moaning your name turns into incomprehensible whimpers as you bring him to his high, but you're not finished till you milk out every last drop with your hands firm around him, licking everything he has to offer.

Both of you breathless, you go up to his face and passionately kiss, exchanging the taste of him and his pleasure to his own tongue. He goes to sit you up and switch positions before kneeling in front of you so he can offer you some release now.

"Oh... no baby you don't have to do that... tonight's all about making you feel goo-"

"Please... let me... please let me make you feel as good as you just made me feel... let me taste your sweetness."

He was begging you to let him stuff his face between your thighs. God it made you feel powerful, to have a man like Javier on knees before you, you couldn't say no to that. Not to mention that everytime he ate you out, (which with Javier was often because he couldn't get enough of you) he left your legs trembling for the rest of the night from his fucken godly tongue.

"Okay baby, you've begged enough." You tease.

Before you can say another word his face dives between your warmth, head first into your wet folds. He licks a tender strip up your pussy before teasing your pulsating clit with the tip of his tongue. You throw your head back and uncontrollably moan out.

“Fuck!”

He wraps his hands around your thighs and pulls your centre closer to him. He slips a thick finger into you slowly causing you to arch your back into his touch.

"Javi" you breathily moan, totally succumbing to the divine pleasure that this man was devoted to giving you just with his mouth and hands. The pathetic whines you make as he slips a second finger into your hole, pumping them in and out of your pussy make his cock twitch. But he pushes down the need to be buried deep inside you till he fully repays the pleasure you gave him.

Knowing how close you are by the more strangled and loud moans coming from your pretty little mouth, he fucks you harder and deeper with his fingers and further stimulates your throbbing clit with his tongue, very gently biting down occasionally, blending the lines of pain and pleasure.

"Cum for me cariño, give me all your sweet essence to drink. He breathes against your wet centre.

Those words push you over the edge. A series of loud breathy moans escape your mouth, your legs trembling, threatening to crush Javi's head, but he doesn't care or notice. He is too busy working you through your high, licking up every sweet drop of your liquid pleasure he can get from you.

He eventually comes up and crawls up to you cradle your reddened face between his hands, passionately kissing your plump lips.The taste of both of your pleasures are exchanged, dancing around each other tongues. You break away, both of you still out of breath from the previous activities. He lies down on his back next to you.

Your mind flashes back to the start of the night, the events that ultimately led you here. You feel the heat rise in your cheeks once again as the anger you felt overcomes you once again. You think Javi still needs to be taught a lesson, and just thinking about putting him in his place makes your pussy ache in need for his cock to fill the emptiness his fingers left moments ago filled.

Noticing a shift in the air, Javi asks you what you're thinking about.

"Oh just how I still think you need to be put in your place Peña." You growl.

He smirks, loving every second of this new power dynamic he gets. "Oh you gonna teach me a lesson baby" he teases waiting for a reaction out of you.

"Oh you fucken bet, smartass" you snap back. Quickly you move on top of him again and slap his face.

“Your a very lucky man Javi, to be blessed with such a patient partner who is used to dealing your shitty attitude, offering every ounce of love and care she has to you every time you have a bad day at work, sucking your dick so hard you forget all you problems for the night.”

“Oh yeah I sure am lucky-”

You push your thumb to his lips while holding his chin in the rest of your fingers, shushing him.

“I wasn't finished talking!” you snap.

“Someone better teach you a lesson about manners before someone permanently shuts that dirty little mouth of yours.”

Javi gulps, his cock straining against your warm weight above needing more and more to release his show of affection in your tight wet cunt.

You tip his chin up, pulling your thumb down his lips slowly. You push your face close to his, mouths almost touching.

“What, cat got your tongue?” you whisper seductively in his mouth, licking your lips. Your hot breath causes his cock to pulsate even more and goosebumps to emerge over his neck. He swallows hard, a quiet moan escaping his throat.

“Good boy, you finally learnt that it's best to shut up then let your sly tongue ruin the fun for you.” you joke.

You once again firmly grab his throbbing boner and stroke it a few times before guiding it to your entrance, you slowly sit down on it, letting your cunt adjust to his wide length. Breathy moans fall out of both of your mouths. Once you reach the base, you let half of his cock fall out before taking it all again. You fasten your pace, arching your back as the angle his cock hits every time causes your breath to hitch in your throat, making strangled moans.

He becomes a whimpering mess below you, both from the pleasure you were bestowing upon him and because of his overwhelming need to turn you over and fuck the shit out of you himself, fueled by the need to appease and pleasure the one good thing in his life.

“Please let me fuck you baby make you feel way better than you can make yourself feel bouncing on my dick.”

You stare at him, at first annoyed but then smile knowing that nobody can make you feel as good as he can, even yourself. You felt you had teased him enough tonight not letting him take full control like he usually did. You smirk nodding and give a playful slap on his chest.

“Okay but you better fuck the shit out me pretty boy, make my cunt ache for days after this.”

“Oh mi amor, you won’t be able to even walk for days after this.” he said with a smirk twisting into a devilish smile.

He swiftly sits up to embrace you tightly, his pace quickly surpassing that off your own. The new angle hitting you somehow even deeper than before, causing your eyes to roll back into your head. You now are the one who whimpers pathetically, love-drunk on every mind numbing thrust Javi provides you. Chills run throughout your body as Javi brings you closer and closer to your orgasm. In between his deep grunts and breathes he whispers dirty, dirty words into your ear.

“Yeah that’s right… nobody can make you feel as good..as…I can cariño.”

“I love your tight little cunt….and those little desperate sounds you make… when I fuck the shit out it.”

“God you look so fucken pretty…. when you're about cum on my cock… wanna stay like this… with you forever.”

The both of you are so close, to help you finish he squeezes to tighter, closer to him, kneading one of your breasts with one hand and circling you clit with the other, using his hands as the anchors to enter your pussy as hard and fast as he can. Your hand reaches up to behind his head as you both simultaneously reach your high.

“Ahhhh…. fuck…. Javi…. you feel so good!”

You turn your head and look at him, he leans forward and kisses your forehead, panting hard as he rides out his high. He carefully slips out his softening dick out of your aching, sensitive pussy. You both fall into the bed holding each close as you catch your breaths yet again.

“Fuck I think i’m going to need you come home from work angry more often.” you laugh out of breath.

He laughs against the back of your neck. “Yeah also feel free to slap me whenever you want cause fuck… that was hot.”

You both laugh, nodding. This night turned out better than expected, and you wish to be nowhere else except here entwined closely with the love of your life, hot,sticky and tired after you extraneous activities, slowly drifting to sleep with nothing but the sounds of busy Bogotá and Javi’s deep breaths caressing your neck.

#javier pena narcos #javier pena #javier pena smut #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x reader

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lionlena · 4 months

Text

Headcanon: Who will be ready to kill for you? From most willing to least... (Pedro Pascal characters) 🔪💀☠️🩸

1. Oberyn Martell

There is no doubt here. He will kill for you without hesitation.

He has a hot temper, he is used to killing, he is highly trained, and... madly in love with you. You are his Queen.

If someone insults you, looks at you wrong, or hurts you, Oberyn will not hesitate to spear him or challenge him to a duel (and spear him.)

Be sure, he will make a show of killing for you. He will proudly show off his skills, and if the victim is unlucky, he will even torture them.

Oberyn really won't have any doubts. This is the world he lives in. He is a prince and is not afraid of consequences. For you, he will always be able to kill an entire army of people.

2. Jack Daniels (I wasn't sure here but my sweet @creedslove helped me)

Jack will do anything for his Sugar. If your safety or good honor is at stake, he will not hesitate to kill.

Let's be honest, Jack has no remorse about this. If someone threatens, hurts, or insults you, they are bad. And bad people deserve to die. Easy.

Good manners dictate that he must take care of and protect his Sugar.

Of course, he may not do it in a very spectacular way, but he will definitely use the skills he acquired in the agency.

If necessary, he will falsify evidence and suddenly your ex-boyfriend will turn out to be a dangerous terrorist who had to be eliminated.

Jack has no qualms about threatening others with death in his typical Southern way ;)

3. Dave York

He won't hesitate to kill for you either. For example, your abusive ex-boyfriend.

But of course, he will do it secretly. After all, he is a hitman.

If you know about his profession, he will probably confess to the murder, but it may also be that he will withhold this information for your good.

But let's face it, when you find out that your ex-boyfriend drowned (and you know he was a great swimmer), you'll figure it out.

But can you be mad at Dave? After all, he did it for you. When you tell him about your guesses...

"He'll never lay a hand on you again." Dave will whisper into your hair and kiss your forehead.

But there are also murders you don't know about. For example, that guy who was aggressive in the bar...

4. Joel Miller

Here it all depends on which Joel we are talking about. After the outbreak Joel or no outbreak Joel.

Post-pandemic Joel is of course willing to kill for you. Mainly to protect you.

It's obviously not something he's proud of, but that's the world you live in. Sometimes there is no choice. If he doesn't want you to be raped or killed, then he has to reject humanity. And he does it for you, he kills without blinking an eye.

If someone insults you or is aggressive, Joel may not kill him, but he is definitely ready to break the guy's jaw or stab him in the knee.

As for no outbreak Joel, the situation is different here. Joel won't kill for you... Not that he doesn't want to, but it's clear that he doesn't want to go to prison.

But you can certainly count on the fact that he will often scare someone who behaves inappropriately towards you.

5. Din Djarin

Well, Din is a bounty hunter. He knows how to kill and if necessary, he will kill for you too.

But it won't be something he will enjoy and he won't do it for a trivial reason.

If you are in serious danger, he will definitely not hesitate to use his blaster. But don't count on him killing someone for you out of revenge.

Of course, this doesn't mean he won't threaten other people. He's good at making threats.

So if someone is bully or aggressive towards you, he will definitely hear Din's icy modulated voice:

"You can leave this place being warm... or you can leave this place being cold."

6. Javier Peña

Javier is ready to kill for you, but because of his job, he knows he can't do it.

However, he won't hesitate to threaten your ex-boyfriend with a gun if he doesn't understand that you don't want to be with him anymore.

Javier can be aggressive and won't hesitate to use his fists to make sure no one hurts or insults his cariño.

However, the situation may be slightly different if the person who threatened you was a sicario. Javier may not kill him directly, but he will use all his connections to neutralize the threat.

And of course, he won't hesitate to kill if you're in danger. If someone kidnaps you, Javier will put the entire DEA and CIA on their feet and get a military helicopter to save you.

And when you're safe in his arms, he won't regret what he did, not even for a moment.

7. Frankie Morales

This is another man who has killed before. Frankie knows how to pull the trigger, but... He's in serious trouble because of it. He dreams of dead people at night and wakes him up with nightmares.

That's why Frankie would be willing to kill for you, but only if there was no other option. If your life was in danger.

He is also not a fan of making threats. He prefers to avoid conflicts, but of course, that doesn't mean he can't look menacing and throw a murderous look.

Of course, you will always be safe with him. Frankie knows how to fight and in case of trouble, he is always ready to use his military skills.

8. Marcus Pike

Marcus, of course, is not very willing to kill someone for you. He's an FBI agent, of course, he knows how to kill and has seen death more than once, but that's why he does everything legally.

He is also not a fan of making threats. Of course, you can feel safe with him.

It's not that Marcus can't be aggressive and combative. He just always tries to think things through and doesn't get emotional.

If your ex-boyfriend harasses you, Marcus will encourage you to report it to the police.

But of course, in a situation of danger, Marcus is ready to take out his gun to stand between you and the threat. And if it's absolutely necessary, he'll shoot.

9. Javi G

Javi is sweet, we all know that. But he's also not afraid to defend you, but killing someone is definitely out of his league.

He may threaten someone with a gun because he can play a dangerous role, but he would really be the last one to kill for you.

If you were in danger, Javi would simply hire an army of bodyguards and never leave your side. And of course, he would carry a gun. However, if he had to shoot, he would probably aim for his opponent's legs or arm.

Pernament tag list: @harriedandharassed

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cositapreciosa · 1 year

Note

Hi lovely, if you’re taking requests please could I get your take on this (I cannot get it out of my head)🥲 Javier Peña x fem - in a secret relationship and they get into a huge argument before a really important meeting and end up fucking on Gaviria’s desk👀

Honey

Javier Peña x gn!reader (swearing, smut, not full on but like, a bit, the usual for the show), 1721 words

a/n : had to use a side profile gif, otherwise, it would have been a war crime. Did i just write? like half a smut? 2022 really was something

As always it's the fictional, not the real deal, enjoy xx (do I really have to put this warning on lil javi here?)

‘’ Los pepes, Javi? This is insane. ‘’

Javier is pacing in front of you. Left, right, left, right. The wood of the desk behind you is pressing on your hip, a constant reminder on how real this moment is, how he is a hundred percent serious, no joking around this time,

‘’ It is not. ‘’

His fingers are twitching, restless, begging for a smoke. He emphasizes each word as if doing so would make you believe he’s right, like this isn’t career suicide, like this would solve everything. The final piece to the puzzle that is Colombia’s war on drugs,

‘’ You can’t be fucking serious- ‘’

‘’ Are you going to report me? Is that what you’re saying? ‘’

Your hand raises to your forehead, pressing the skin, hiding behind your hand. You didn't want your day to start off like this, fighting once more about him putting his life on the line. Sneaking around again to hide from the glances and the whispers. You had been doing a good job at it for a few months, even when he had started to be bolder at times. You sigh,

‘’ Don’t. Don’t put words in my mouth, Javier. ‘’

You can tell this one stings by how his lips curl slightly. How his full name, raw, usually foreign, comes out of your mouth. The air is tense in the room, whoever’s empty office he pulled you into. You knew he had been hiding something for weeks now. You don’t know what is worst, how you were thinking for a second that maybe he was maybe trying to fuck the new secretary, or how he was actually fucking around with narcos. You can’t stop how your foot taps incessantly on the carpet,

‘’ Does Steve knows about this? ‘’

Your voice comes out smaller than you intended, soft and whispered, like a secret. Did you tell him before me, you want to say, do you trust me as much as I trust you. It is a shame really, how you want to be the first person he confides in, how you yearn to be more than a lover at times.

You don’t remember when you and Javier had started going out, meeting out after work, sipping away the stress of the week. But you do remember how easy it had been to ease into it, to borrow his shirts so you could stay the night, to remember his days off and his favourite colour,

‘’ You’re the only one that knows. I thought you would understand. ‘’

You shake your head, shifting your weight to your other foot,

‘’ I do, Ja- ‘’ you swallow, hard, ‘’ I do, but you can’t put those guys in prison and shake their hands at the same time. ‘’

He reaches into his pocket, finally pulling a cigarette from the pack. He knows you’re right. His eyes don’t leave your face as he lights it up, and you can tell he’s burning inside, red eyes, fingers twitching. You push yourself off the desk, taking a step forward. Your hand comes up, cradling his bicep. He smells of cigarette, and whiskey and-

‘’ When was the last time you had a full night’s sleep, amor? ‘’

The word comes soft from your lips, rolling off your tongue. His shoulders relax a bit as he exhales smoke through his nose. You know he doesn’t need a new enemy right now, that he feels like he is surrounded on all fronts. It is a cry for help in a way, looking for solace in desperate times,

‘’ Frankly? ‘’ he pulls again at his cigarette, smoke filling up the space between you, ‘’ I stopped counting. ‘’

Your hand caresses down and up his arm. You are not surprised by how Javier decided to take the matter into his own hands, how he thinks doing this will end up saving everyone, even if he knows it’s not entirely true. You sigh,

‘’ I can’t risk my career, my life, on this. Maybe you end up back in the US if the higher-ups catch you, severance package or whatever, but what do you think happens to me? ‘’

Colombia, is what will happen to you, sicarios and forced resignation, is what will happen to you. You can’t look at him, so you play with his shirt instead, rubbing the material between your fingers as he leans behind you toward the desk to put out his cigarette. You can smell his aftershave and you know his eyes are trying to find yours again while he straightens his back,

‘’ I can have you an embassy ID, you can come with me. ‘’

It is like you have been shocked, raising your head so fast to look at him. Don’t sell promises you can’t give me. It is your turn to be angry now,

‘’ Don’t lie to me. Don’t say things like that. ‘’

‘’ I wouldn’t lie to you if I didn’t think I could do it. ‘’, his hand is wrapped around your elbow now, bringing you closer again, ‘’ I mean it. Do this with me, come back home with me after this. ‘’

Home.

Not yours, his. His country, his language, his favourite dinner places. Not yours. You stay silent, you don’t know what you want, what you should do, or why you want to say yes. You cross your arms, stepping back to lean on the wood once more,

‘’ I’m not sure what you want me to do. How you want me to help. ‘’

‘’ You have access to a lot more information than I do. I am not asking you to share everything, I want you to come to me if you feel it would help. You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. ‘’

He is a step away from you now, cornering you between him and the desk. You can smell the remnant of the cigarette on him, overpowering his cologne. You don’t remember when he got so close or when his hand wrapped carefully behind your ear to press away at the tension in your neck. You can see the concern in his eyes, almost like regret. Maybe I should have kept this to myself. You know he is overthinking like he always does. His thigh is warm between yours as you pull him closer by the belt buckle,

‘’ I’ll see what I can come up with. Your secret is safe with me, okay? ‘’

You feel the need to reassure him. You want him to know, know that you won’t exchange him for a few favours from his boss. His breath is soft on your cheek, his nose moving across your temple. If anyone were to come in now, with him between your legs, his mouth in your hair-

‘’ Javi… They will wait for me before starting the meeting. ‘’

Your sentence comes out insistent, a small warning without any real meaning behind it. Don’t start something you can’t finish. His arms slither between yours and the rest of your body, his palms pressing against the wooden desk as he leans forward, belt slipping from your fingertips as his hips pull naturally backward.

‘’ Do you have to go now? ‘’

It’s not a question, even though he does whisper it like one. Don’t go. Stay here. An order, even if there is no rank to pull. His hand slides up from the desk to your hips in one long motion, gripping at the flesh, wrinkling the fabric. His thigh comes up between your legs, pressing against you. Your head lulls back slightly, eyes following the motion,

‘’ I do, I really do- ‘’

His mouth is behind your ear now, whispering things in English you barely understand and don’t care to, as his hand taunts the skin under your shirt, pulling it from under your belt. Air gets stuck in your throat, the noises in the hallway stop. His leg comes up again, leaning forward into you with his whole body, rubbing himself on your thigh. Javier groans as your hand weave in his hair, pulling skin and curls as his lips trail your neck, tongue and teeth,

‘’ I don’t want you to go. I really really don’t want you to go. ‘’

His fingers hook the underside of your knees, pushing you further into the desk. His voice is soft, hypnotizing, and you know you can’t say no to him. You never can. The whole thing feels like a dream, like being stirred in honey, back and forth, back and forth,

‘’ Come with me, ‘’ he breathes, laboured, moaning, ‘’ Even if you don’t do this, I want you to come back with me. ‘’

Fuck.

‘’ Stop- ‘’ you press your fingers to his mouth, to keep his moans from echoing in the hallway, to keep his words from piercing through your skin,

‘’ I’ll take care of you, you know I will. ‘’ he starts again. His breath is warm on your fingers, you can feel the humidity on your skin. His hand lowers on your stomach, fingertips sliding under your underwear,

‘’ I know. I know, I just- ah ‘’

You melt into him, pushing your hips into his hand as he pushes back against your thigh,

‘’ Come with me, I beg you. ‘’

Come for me. Your resolve is weak in his hands. Slipping between your fingers, pooling around on the floor, seeping into the carpet,

‘’ Yes, alright, yes. ‘’

A defeat of sorts, but not one you go out of really losing. Your underwear slightly burns your skin as he pulls it up, pushing it to the side as much as can. He moans in your ear, again and again. Your head rolls on his shoulder, and it’s your turn to cry out, chest pressing against his,

‘’ Don’t, god- Please don’t be too loud, if someone walks in- ‘’

‘’ Are you even listening to yourself right now? ‘’ he breathes out, laughing.

You can feel him smiling against your cheek, how taunting his words are, teasing. Tomorrow will be another day, but as he lowers you onto the desk once and for all, pushing around at the papers and clippings, you know you signed yourself off to something way above your pay grade.

#javier pena x reader #javier pena imagine #javier x reader #narcos imagine #narcos imagines #pedro pascal x reader

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