#agent peña x you

[javier-pena]

virtus

Part 2 of Triumvirate

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader x Katie

Word Count: 14.2k

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Ever since you and Javi invited a third person into your bed, you're happier than you ever were before in your life. Still you can't help but feel that something is missing.

Warnings: mention of food | so many feelings!!! this is 50:50 on feelings and smut | smoking | power dynamics | a lot of bi panic | threesome (f/f/m) | Javi is in charge (as a treat) | the oral fixation in this is … a lot | oral (f and m receiving) | size kink | brief hand job | cum eating | a bit of dirty talk | praise kink | fingering | voyeurism | masturbation (m) | spanking | (unprotected) p in v sex

Notes: I am so sorry for the delay, first for making you guys wait for more than a year for an update and then not posting the update when I said I would post it. But it's finally here: Triumvirate Part 2! I can't believe it took me almost a year to write this, but I hope it was worth the wait. As ever, this fic wouldn't exist without its co-author Dani @adricnchase​ who probably spent just as many hours working on this as I did. And I want to thank all of you who patiently waited for an update for such a long time and didn't give up on this story. You guys are amazing!

***

It was supposed to be a one-time thing.

You had a deal.

Javi would get to live out his fantasy; granted, it was on your terms, but he would get to have two women in his bed, he would get to fuck them both.

And you would get a friend.

In a way, this is exactly what happened. Javi had changed since then, and not in a bad way. Since you had let him have this one thing, this encounter that had been making regular appearances whenever he had taken care of himself, he had become more open with you. Not less, as a small part of you had feared. He is a man, after all, and you know men – you know how they see women as vessels for their own pleasure, how they often forget about their partners’ needs. But this isn’t like that at all. Yes, Javi had a sexual fantasy that most men have at least once in their lives. So no, seeing it fulfilled didn’t make him into someone you were afraid he might become.

The first time you talked to Katie after the events of that night was when she called you to ask if you were free to have coffee with her. She had a short hour between two meetings and you both had talked about getting to know each other better, as she reminded you in a small voice, one that was either timid on purpose to show you she wasn’t a threat or one that showed you a side of her you hadn’t seen yet – one that was scared of rejection. The first time you saw Katie after the events of that night was awkward. You both didn’t quite know what to say to each other until you found common ground – Javi. And with him came all the other things you could talk about.

With Javi, things changed on a physical level. He sees you differently now, and he asks for different things, too. He asks to restrain you with his handcuffs (late one night, his voice so low you think you’ve misunderstood him at first), he asks you to wear a particularly revealing dress out to dinner one night (one you hadn’t worn in public before), he asks for you in the middle of the night with hungry kisses and urgent touches. And he gives, he gives so much that you feel like you’re floating most of the time. And it’s not just sex, either. It’s presents and date nights and surprise visits during lunch break. He doesn’t just do it to show how grateful he is. He does it because something has changed.

With Katie, things changed on an emotional level. You think of her as a friend now, and once you’ve gotten past the initial awkwardness you realize how much you two have in common. You talk about books and music, you talk about your dreams and aspirations, you talk about your families back home, the boyfriends you’ve loved and lost, the places you still want to see. You talk about work, too, and sometimes about Javi. But when you’re with her, there is so much else that fills your mind, so many curious questions you want to ask and funny stories you want to share that you don’t need to talk about Javi to keep the conversation going. And coffee with Katie becomes a regular occurrence.

And sometimes, those two halves that make you whole collide. Sometimes Javi gets home and says, “So Katie was telling me today that you don’t like my menudo,” to which you reply, “Oh, that little –” but before you can finish the sentence, Javi has caught you in his arms and kissed you. Sometimes, Katie sits down opposite you in your favorite coffee place, a slight flush dusting her cheeks because she hurried to get to you despite the Colombian heat, and she says, “You really think my blouse from the other day looked nice on me?” And then it’s your turn to feel the heat on your face as you mumble, “It made your eyes shine,” all the while making a mental note to remind Javi about how your private conversations are supposed to remain just that – private.

You feel happier than you have in months, hell, in years. You’re the happiest you’ve been since you arrived in Colombia. For the first time you feel like your life is whole, that you have a place, a home. And it should be enough. You have a loving boyfriend, you have a friend you can share everything with – that’s more than most of your friends back home can claim for themselves. And yet sometimes when you hear Katie laugh because of something funny you said or when you feel Javi’s breath against your hot skin as he slowly takes you apart with hard thrusts and whispered praises you feel … incomplete. But you never examine that feeling too closely.

You don’t dare to.

You are terrified of what you might find once you do. You’re terrified of what it might mean, this ache you feel in those moments. Because what you have is good. What you have is better than anything you dreamed of for yourself. And you have no right to feel incomplete, none at all.

After all, it was supposed to be a one-time thing.

_______

You look forward to meeting up with Katie because you love hearing about her work. It is the same as Javi’s but she sees it with different eyes, and she talks about it with an air of lightness. Javi doesn’t love what he does, he sees it as a necessity and he’s good at it, maybe even the best, but he doesn’t talk about his work when he’s at home. This hasn’t changed since Katie. But she indulges you, she tells you about her daily tasks, about fun colleagues and stupid bosses, about all the paperwork she has to do. And she always has an exciting story or two to tell when you meet up.

There is always a slight nervousness you feel when you wait for her in that coffee place. Today is no different. As you watch the brooding sky outside, foreboding with dark-gray clouds, you ask yourself if you should tell her. But tell her what? You don’t know yourself, even though it’s been one and a half months since she was lying under you, touching you, while Javi was behind you, and … You shift in your seat, uncomfortably aware of the hot weather. What’s there to tell? Hi Katie, I liked having you in our bed. Could we do that again? You laugh at how silly this sounds, even just in your head. And how would you react if Katie rejected you? You don’t think she has a boyfriend, she would’ve mentioned him to you, but it was supposed to be one time, one fucking time, and just because you can’t stop thinking about it doesn’t mean she can’t either. Just because you’re greedy and selfish doesn’t mean she’s the same.

And you’re terrified of her rejection, and you’re terrified of the possibility that she might not want to see you again afterwards.

But then you spot her outside the big window and all the tension leaves your body. It doesn’t matter if you tell her or not, all that matters is that she’s your friend and you get to have these coffee dates with her.

And then you spot him behind her, almost like a shadow – Javi.

Your heart leaps to your throat as you watch him hold open the door for her and lead her inside, his other hand on the small of her back. Maybe you should be jealous – any other woman would be – but you’re not. It’s the first time all of you are in a room together since that morning, and all the conflicting feelings you’ve been feeling are suddenly pushed aside. All you can think about is how good they look together … and that they’re both here for you.

You stand up, hitting your knee on the table leg. Javi’s stern face lights up with a small smile as he leans down to kiss you. He tastes like cigarettes.

“Hi, baby,” he says, one of his big hands squeezing your side.

You squirm at the sensation.

Neither you nor Javi care for keeping time, but you’ve been together for a while now, and still every time he touches you, you feel a flicker low in your stomach. He is always overwhelming yet safe, dangerous yet protective. You raise your hand to squeeze his arm through the sleeve of his tight-fitting suit, but before you can, he turns away from you to pull out a chair for Katie.

She smiles up at him as she sits down, and then she smiles at you. “Hi,” she says.

You let yourself fall back into your own chair and take a steadying breath. “Hi,” you echo, your heart beating so loudly you don’t hear the sounds your mouth emits.

“Javi wanted to come along,” Katie explains, as an apologetic gaze flashes across her face. “He wanted to know what,” she drops her voice, “you girls get up to when I’m not around.”

Javi smirks as he sits down himself, between you and Katie. “That doesn’t mean I wanted to come along,” he explains. “I was just asking.”

“You’re free to leave anytime,” Katie remarks.

“Now that you’ve dragged me all the way across town, I’m staying.” Javi crosses his legs and his arms, the fabric of his suit straining.

Katie mirrors him. “For the record, no one is keeping you here.”

“No, they’re not,” Javi agrees. “But I’m taking this opportunity to find out what you girls say about me when I’m not around.”

“What makes you think we’re talking about you?” Katie asks.

“What else would you be talking about?” Javi teases.

He teases. You sit up straighter, your gaze wandering between the two of them and you wonder if they’re always like this, even at work. You don’t think they are because it wouldn’t be professional, but you also wonder … maybe it’s not just you. Maybe Javi is thinking about her, too. Maybe they are already … no, they wouldn’t. You refuse to believe the two people you care about so much would hurt you in any way.

“Oh, we have plenty to talk about,” Katie answers him with a small laugh. “Clothes, makeup, boys …”

“Don’t I fall into the ‘boys’ category?” Javi wants to know, a challenging smirk on his lips.

For a moment you think Katie will push him further, you see this mischievous gleam in her eyes she always gets when she’s about to overstep a line. But then she leans forward, looks at you briefly, and drops her voice. “You’re much more than a boy, Javier.”

A pleasant shiver runs down your spine – excitement, thrill, arousal. You push it aside; this is neither the place nor the time to be feeling any of this. But when you look to Javi and see your feelings reflected on his face, your efforts turn into a losing battle.

Fuck.

“Should we order?” you ask, your voice deliberately calm. “You two probably don’t have much time.”

They both turn to you. And now you see guilt on Javi’s face and the challenge on Katie’s and your face burns hot with emotions you can’t place. Luckily, a young waitress comes to take your order right then and you’re spared from a deeper analysis of the shift that has occurred between the three of you.

“So.” You clear your throat and straighten the fabric of your trousers by running both palms over the smooth material. There is not a single wrinkle on it, but the movement grounds you. “How are things at the office?” It’s probably a futile attempt since you never discuss work with Javi and only sometimes with Katie, but you have to try.

Katie laughs, a warm, happy sound that makes your hands tingle. “I thought we were going to discuss All the Pretty Horses.”

Yes, you were. Last week, you had both gone to a bookshop not far from here and picked out a book to read, a new one, one neither of you had read before. You had been looking forward to the lunch date for a few days because you need to share some of your observations with Katie, and you are keen on hearing her opinion. Your already battered copy rests in your bag that is slung over your chair, nested somewhere between an old notebook and your house keys. But now, under these changed circumstances …

“Oh, Javi hasn’t read it,” you answer with a small shrug, looking past your boyfriend at Katie. “I don’t want him to be bored.” It’s only half the truth. The whole one is that you’re not sure how to act around Katie when Javi is there with you, who to be around her now you’re all together in one place again. The nervous jitter in your leg surprises you, as does your rapidly beating heart and your inability to look at either of them directly.

“I didn’t bring him along so he can ruin our lunch.” If another person had said it, anyone else, it would have sounded mean, hostile even. But when Katie says it, it sounds like an inside joke, jovial, amiable. “He can listen.” She narrows her eyes at you. “Or are you trying to hide something? Haven’t you read it? Is that it?”

“No, I’ve read it.” You almost stumble across the words in your haste to get them out. “It’s just …”

“Please don’t let yourself be distracted by me.” Now Javi has re-entered the conversation you can no longer ignore him. The mischievous glint in his eyes tells you to relax. And then there suddenly is a hand on your thigh, just above your knee, stopping the trembling. It’s warm and strong and careful, the steadying grip calming your nerves and muscles. “I’m more than happy to listen.”

“See?” Katie says with a nod at Javi.

You shake your head to get rid of the residue of tension in your neck and shoulders, then agree with an, “Oh, fine.”

Katie immediately lunges into an in-depth analysis of the main character and his motivations, while you listen and nod, agreeing with her until you don’t and you both end up in a heated discussion, Javi all but forgotten if not for his palm pressing into your leg, his fingers gripping your thigh. He doesn’t interrupt you, but he also doesn’t ignore your conversation. He listens intently, his gaze wandering between the two of you, his brow furrowed in concentration, his lips slightly parted – he always looks like this when someone catches his interest beyond a brief stimulation. When Katie challenges you with a, “No, that’s simply not true. Do you know anything about young men from Texas?” he looks at you with a look that says, “Well, do you?” and it makes you smile so broadly you’re unable to answer her. Later, when you say, “Well, then let’s agree to disagree,” and Katie says, “You’re only saying that because you know you’re wrong,” Javi stares at her in mock offense, a comical rendering of the very real feeling dancing across your features.

And despite Javi not being a part of the conversation, you couldn’t imagine it without him. You wouldn’t want it any other way. He’s more than happy to listen to you, giving you both the space you need, allowing you to be yourselves despite his presence. He never interrupts, never tries to stir the conversation into a direction that will let him allow to join in.

When your order finally arrives, he uses his cup of coffee to hide a smile as he listens to your discussion. Part of you wishes he had read the book and you could ask him for his opinion, but you’re not sure he’d be on your side, so it is better you’re fighting this battle one on one. And Katie does make compelling arguments, you’re prepared to admit that, but this is a matter of principle. You can’t let her win, not in front of Javi.

Katie, who ordered a pionono with her coffee, lets you ramble on about how Alejandra should have accepted John Grady’s marriage proposal, while she eats the treat slowly, careful not to spill anything onto her blouse. But when you call Alejandra a coward and it makes Javi snort into his cup with laughter, Katie glances at him and spills some of the dulce de leche onto her chin.

“Oh!” she exclaims in surprise, followed by a soft chuckle. “These things always get so messy.”

Your brain isn’t processing what she’s saying. You’re transfixed by the milk jam clinging to the corner of her mouth, to the tip of her chin, on the verge of dripping down onto her pretty clothes. A tremble runs through your body as you fight the urge to lean forward and clean her up, as your mind runs hot with endless possibilities.

Your hand, holding a napkin, softly dabbing at the corner of her mouth.

Your finger swiping up the cream, feeding it to her from its tip.

Your tongue licking her clean.

You know you’re staring but you couldn’t care less, not when that urge to fuss over her turns into something sexual you’re too weak to push away. You remember an image from six weeks ago – Katie between Javi’s legs, how sweetly clumsy she was, clumsy but determined. It made you want to care for her back then too, but now, with both those images in your mind, forming something so delicious, your breathing becomes shallow. Heat rises up to your cheeks as you imagine taking things further, cleaning her up after Javi comes down her throat …

Javi.

He’s watching you, his eyes narrow with observant curiosity. That breaks the spell, and you turn away from Katie as she gathers the cream on her fingers and licks them clean. She doesn’t know what you’re thinking, she’s completely oblivious – all she wants is to enjoy her lunch break in peace. And you’re not about to spill the thoughts you just had, let them both in on what goes through your mind, but you become quiet, so quiet Katie asks you if you’re all right.

You nod, laugh it off, pretend you just realized the argument on the book you were about to make doesn’t make any sense, and you just noticed how Katie was right all along. That makes her shout out an excited, “Ha!” before she turns to Javi to seek out his approval.

But Javi still has his eyes on you, quietly observant. You can’t hold his gaze.

He’s going to want to talk about this tonight.

_______

You don’t. He’s called away into the office before you finish cooking dinner, and even though he asks you to stay, you’re fast asleep by the time he gets back. He curls up behind you, pressing you against his chest, and buries his face in your neck, breathing in your scent. You, in a state between waking and dreaming, hold onto his arm as sleep overtakes you again.

Then there are two days where you don’t see each other at all. Javi has to travel – he doesn’t tell you where he’s going, he never does, and you don’t ask. Both of you believe it’s better not to, out of some old superstitious belief that he might not come back if you discuss the mission beforehand. He does come back though, lets himself into your flat late at night, and is on you immediately, barely finds time to undress himself. You never ask about the things he sees when he’s away, just let him take what he needs when he gets back, let him find comfort in your warmth and your embrace.

He's gentler than usual tonight, and afterwards he stays in bed next to you, offers you a cigarette and lights it for you before he lights his own. And then he says, “We should talk.”

You learned to dread those three words a long time ago, know they can never be the bearers of good news, only of disappointment and heartbreak. But this is Javi, and he would never play games like that, not after what you just did, after you clung to him and he held you until you were so overwhelmed you couldn’t stop the tears from falling and he kissed every single one away. Not after he cleaned you up with a warm cloth and brought you a glass of water before even thinking about his own needs. This isn’t a man who is about to break your heart.

“Sure,” you say, pushing down the rising dread.

“We said it would be a one-time thing …,” He hesitates, and you’ve never seen him hesitate like that. Maybe he is about to break your heart because there is only one way this could go. He saw the way you looked at Katie and is about to remind you of your deal. Maybe he’s even going to ask you to stop seeing her.

That thought is impossible to bear.

“Javi, I am so sorry.” Maybe he’ll be more forgiving if you show true remorse.

Javi, about to take a drag from his cigarette, stops his hand halfway up to his parted lips. “What are you sorry for?” The surprise on his face would have made you laugh under different circumstances.

It also allows you to open up, hoping you might have misinterpreted the direction your talk is going in. “I saw you looking at us in the coffee shop the other day.” There is no reaction from Javi, none. Nothing that tells you if this is what he wants to talk about. “I know we said it would be a one-time thing, but …” You have to take a deep breath, steel yourself for what you are about to say, and then get it out before you can stop yourself. If you don’t say this now, you never will, and you’ll carry that regret around with you as a heaviness that will weigh you down. “I wouldn’t mind if we invited her back.”

“Oh.”

Fuck. You got this all wrong. “I’m so sorry.” The words are tumbling out of your mouth. “You don’t have to say yes. I just thought …”

He doesn’t allow you to finish, instead taking the cigarette from you and carelessly discarding it in the ashtray next to your bed. Then he pulls you down by your hips until you’re lying pressed into the mattress. He’s on top of you before you can process what is happening, kissing you possessively. “Yes, fuck. Of course I want her to come back.”

“Of course?” you echo, not quite sure if you’re saying this in surprise, relief, or mock offense.

“I know we said it would be a one-time thing but I …,” he kisses you again, slower, with more care, but despite his gentleness you can feel him growing hard against your thigh, “I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I’ve been thinking about her a lot.”

This isn’t at all how you thought this conversation would go, not when he announced there was something you needed to talk about. You weren’t expecting such a positive turn of events and your mind is spinning with the endless possibilities this opens up for you. You hadn’t realized it before, but every time you missed her in bed beside you, every time you thought about her with anything but feelings of friendship, you felt guilty about it. His confession erases that guilt in one broad swipe, and makes you feel nothing but joy and relief.

You nod encouragingly, eager for him to continue.

“I am attracted to her.” Javi doesn’t look away or hide his face when he confesses this. His gaze is on you. He’s not presenting a challenge or an ultimatum, he’s just stating a simple fact, one that is as certain as the sun rising in the morning. Maybe this confession should hurt, but it doesn’t. It just encourages you in your own attraction to her, the one you’ve been careful not to examine too closely. “And to you.” It’s not an afterthought, not something he says to dampen the pain. It’s just another indisputable fact, one that he follows up with a scorching kiss. “And seeing you two together again …”

He doesn’t finish that sentence, but he doesn’t have to. You immediately think about the implications of seeing you two together, think about how this isn’t about his own sexual gratification, at least not entirely. Yes, he will definitely get off on watching you two, a thought that makes you press into his thigh involuntarily, but that also means he’s confident enough to let you explore your own attraction to her.

“I …” You want to tell him, talk about what this means to you, to get this freedom, to have him say yes to a repeat of one of the best nights of your life, but you can’t. You can’t tell him you’re attracted to her too because you’re not yet sure yourself. Yes, you feel something for her, but it’s not ready to be discussed with anyone, not even with him. And admitting it is different for you anyway because you’re not a man. The implications are unconventional and you’re not ready to delve into that yet. But you can give him something else. “I’d love it if she came back. I like her a lot and we had so much fun last time.” That much is true, and it’s something you’re confident enough to share with him.

It barely scratches the surface of what you could say, but he understands you. The look he gives you is full of warmth and comprehension, and even though he can’t quite grasp the full scope of things, he gets it in some part. And that’s enough. It’s enough for the both of you. He doesn’t have to hear you say it to understand.

When he speaks again, he moves the conversation back onto familiar ground, ground that you can both handle, that doesn’t make you feel like you’re drowning in unspoken things. “I have rules though.” The smile he gives you is impish.

“Oh?” you make, your voice trembling with anticipation.

“Two rules,” he clarifies. “I want you to ask her.”

You agree without a moment’s hesitation. “Yes, sure.” It can’t be a problem, right? You’re very good friends, after all, and you should be able to talk to her openly about this. It’s no big deal.

His next demand makes you clench around nothing. “And I want to be in charge this time.”

You try to hide how flustered you are behind a teasing, “You do, do you?”

He pins you down with his entire body, traps you beneath his broad shoulders. “I have some ideas …”

Your mind is running wild with the endless possibilities that lie behind those four words. They make you think about him wanting to see you and Katie together, and that thought turns you on so much he has no trouble working two of his fingers into you. You welcome them, welcome the slight burning sensation, the feeling of being filled by him, while you think about his beautiful brown eyes on you as you do the same to Katie.

Later, he fucks you, finishing with a low, satisfied grunt.

_______

Katie is in a very good mood today. She hasn’t stopped giggling since she sat down, and it’s only been getting more exuberant with every sip of coffee she’s had. The other patrons are a constant source of joy for her, and she keeps pointing things out about them on the quiet. Under different circumstances you would’ve joined in gladly, would have encouraged her in her funny observations but today you are dying a slow and painful death.

Your hands are resting in your lap, the coffee in front of you barely touched. Your heart is such a tight knot in your chest that you can barely get out a sentence, let alone this complicated, intricate demand you were tasked to present her with. Shouldn’t this be easy? Isn’t it supposed to be easy? You agreed to this so readily because it’s supposed to be the easiest thing in the world. Then why is this so fucking hard?

It's because she could reject you. And if she does, things between you and her will be unbearably awkward.

Katie notices something is up, of course she does. “You’re so quiet today. Is everything all right?”

Is it? “Yes, sure,” you answer, then take a sip of your coffee, trying to hide how much your hand is shaking. If only your heart would stop racing so you could form a coherent thought.

Katie narrows her eyes. “You do realize I’ve been trained to tell when someone is lying, right?” But then her demeanor changes completely, from the DEA agent to your friend. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You feel panic spread from your heart into every corner of your body, terrible, unbearable panic. She’s offering you the ideal gateway, but you have absolutely no idea what to say to make sure you don’t ruin this. You’re so fucking terrified.

Finally, you shake your head.

Katie nods once. “Well, if you’re sure … but you can always talk to me about everything.”

You know this. If there’s anything that has become obvious over the course of the last six weeks it’s how much you can rely on Katie. She is always going to be there for you. And that’s what is keeping you from just coming out with it … what if you lose her when you tell her what is on your mind?

“Is there something I could do that would make you not want to see me ever again?” The second the last syllable leaves your mouth you regret asking the question. It gives too much away.

There is a big question mark on Katie’s face. Yes, she might have been trained to read other people, but she is an open book when it comes to her own emotions. “Nothing comes to me off the top of my head,” she answers after hesitating only briefly. “Did you have something specific in mind?”

You know she’s only joking because she sees you could use a laugh, but somehow it feels like she’s making light of the situation. It only occurs to you that this assessment is unfair after the thought has crossed your mind – after all, you haven’t told her what’s up. She has no way of knowing what she’s making light of.

Finally, you answer, “Yes.”

“Oh, okay.” She sounds slightly worried now, shifts in her chair to sit up straighter. Her arms are resting against the tabletop, forming a wall between your body and her chest.

You don’t say anything.

“Well, aren’t you going to tell me?” There is an undercurrent of impatience there, one you wish you could ignore, but now that you’ve heard it, it burrows itself deep into your mind, takes over every impulse, makes it impossible to come up with a way out of this situation.

You open your mouth, close it again without letting out a single sound. Your stupid heart is in your throat, choking you, working like a stopper to keep down the words.

Then she smiles at you softly. “I don’t think you could ever do something that would make me want to stop seeing you. Unless you kill my entire family, which I doubt you will.”

It makes you smile too, despite the panic and the trepidation and the dread. “Okay, yes,” you grant, “but what about doing something that would make things between us so awkward you wouldn’t be able to stand being around me?”

Her face falls slightly, and worry begins to cloud her soft gaze again. “You’re starting to worry me now.”

“God, fuck, I know.” You bury your face in your hands, so you don’t have to see the worry on her face. This isn’t at all going like you wanted it to go. “I’m so sorry.”

Katie touches your arm, strokes it encouragingly. “Hey, it’s okay.” Your initial reaction is to flinch away from her and it’s only the paralyzing fear you feel that stops you. But the longer you feel her fingers against your skin, the calmer you become. “Just take a deep breath, okay? It’s going to be fine.”

The understanding and compassion she has for you make you feel like you could cry, but that is definitely the wrong thing to do in this situation. The right thing to do would be to get it over with, just put it out there and let her decide what to do next. “I …,” you start, raising your head, “we …”

The words won’t come, no matter how hard you fight the feelings holding you back. You hate yourself for agreeing to be the one to ask Katie. And you begin to understand why it took Javi so long the last time.

“Hey,” Katie says again, “I’m sure it can’t be that bad.”

“How do you know?” You don’t mean for it to sound so accusatory, but your breathy voice makes it sound like you’re confronting her.

“Well, you said you’re worried I wouldn’t want to see you again,” Katie explains, “so you’re not about to tell me you want to end this friendship. That’s pretty much the worst thing I can think of.”

She’s serious – you can tell by the look in her eyes. And you’re suddenly sure, surer than you’ve ever felt, that no matter what her reaction to your proposition is going to be, your friendship will survive this.

“No,” you say, “I don’t want to end our friendship. I want …” Are you starting this sentence right? Is this about something you want? “Javi and I were wondering …” The longer you talk, the quieter your voice becomes. You cannot look directly at her for what you are about to say next. “We would like you to come back.”

When you do risk a glance in her direction, you find her face a neutral mask. There is no way to tell if she understood you.

You take another deep breath. “We would like you to … be with us again.” You’re not sure if you’re making any sense – you probably aren’t – but you already feel relieved. You mastered the worst part of it – getting out the words.

“You mean like …,” Katie starts.

You quickly interrupt her. “If you want to, of course. No worries if you don’t.”

There is disbelief in the look Katie gives you. But you don’t allow yourself to panic, not yet anyway.

“You want me to come back and have sex with you two again?” Her voice is steady, like she is asking you to clarify a work order you’ve given her. You admire her for it, for the way her voice doesn’t break, for how she doesn’t lower it. You wish you were only half as brave as her.

You just look around you nervously, anxious that someone could overhear. “Yes …” You should say more than that, shouldn’t you? “We really … I would really like you to.”

She’s sizing you up, scanning your face, your body language. What she finds there remains a mystery to you. All you know is that this isn’t the total disaster you were expecting, that she hasn’t thrown her coffee in your face yet and stormed out. And that’s good enough for you.

Then she licks her lips. “Yes, okay.”

Your heart stops. “You sure?”

She laughs lightly. “Yes, of course I’m sure. And I’m very happy you asked … it’s not like I haven’t thought about it.”

It probably shouldn’t surprise you that she has since you have thought about little else, but her admission still makes your heart race – for a very different reason this time. “You have?”

The look she gives you is so gentle it makes your palms grow sweaty with a need you can’t quite place. “I think about you constantly.”

You have no idea what to say to that, so you change the subject. It’s easier than facing whatever she’s making you feel right now. “He wants to be in charge this time.”

“Oh?” Her brief hesitation at hearing this is followed by fiery sparks lighting up her eyes. “That should be interesting.”

_______

The sunshine lights up Javi’s entire flat, fills it with warmth and light. Katie has only ever seen it during the night, the one time she’s been here, and you watch as her gaze wanders around the living room, taking in all the details, from the worn-out couch and leather chairs to the fading art the previous owner left hanging on the wall.

You don’t talk about it, and yet you three always find yourself in the living room first, on neutral ground. Going straight into the bedroom would be too big of a step, you need to pretend that this is a normal visit first. You find yourself brimming with excitement though – you watch with restless eyes and on restless feet as Javi and Katie sit down next to each other on the couch. Is this really necessary? You already established the rules the last time, there is no need for friendly chit-chat.

Although you did break one of the rules right away.

“Do you want something to drink?” you ask, looking for a way to make yourself useful and pass the time until Javi decides it is time to start.

“Some water would be nice, thanks,” Katie answers.

Javi just nods.

You make your way to the kitchen, aiming for a casual stroll that turns into something a bit too fast. You get two bottles of water from the fridge and pour them into two glasses. Some of it spills onto the counter because your hand is trembling.

There is no reason to be nervous – after all, you’ve done this before, and it turned out to be one of the greatest experiences of your life. And you’re not that nervous anyway, more tense really. Javi wanting to be in charge this time takes a lot of the pressure you felt away, makes you excited to find out what he has in store for you. But still, after all the time you spent with Katie and despite all the love you feel for Javi, some nervousness is lingering, making your feet grow cold and your heart pick up speed.

Why did you agree to do this in broad daylight where everyone can see the insecurities in your eyes and there are no shadows to hide you from the scrutiny of others?

Carrying the glasses in both hands, you make your way back to the living room where you’re met with the sight of Katie straddling Javi’s lap, their tongues buried deep in each other’s mouths. The trembling stops at that sight, your body freezing up in response to it. Not because you feel betrayed, overlooked by them, but because you weren’t expecting them to make it so easy for you. No awkward small talk, no negotiations, just picking up where you left off.

The glasses in your hands make your skin grow damp and clammy as you watch them, watch Javi watch her with a concentrated frown, heat flickering in his eyes. His hands are placed on her hips in a conveniently neutral position, but you can see them twitch as if he wants to grab her harder and in different spots, pull her close and kiss her senseless. You wish he would because you crave the sounds Katie makes when she’s turned on, when she finds pleasure with someone. And she is quiet right now, apart from the occasional airy huff, the occasional intake of breath.

But then Javi does raise one hand to tangle it in her hair and pull her closer. Encouraged, she lifts her hips and starts to grind down on him, a slow, rolling motion that draws a quiet growl from him. It’s so quiet in the room you can hear her throaty pants, even hear her underwear brush against his tight jeans if you focus hard enough. Your knuckles on the glasses are turning white.

Katie shifts again to adjust the pencil skirt she’s wearing, pulls it up higher so the fabric doesn’t stretch so much and she can spread her legs more. Both you and Javi watch as more of her legs are exposed, muscles flexing under her skin every time she grinds against the growing bulge in Javi’s pants. It would be so easy to walk over there and take Javi’s cock out, make Katie take it, hear her whimpers as she tries to take him all in, hear her hiss when he adjusts himself, see her ... but no, this isn’t the right time. Despite how much you enjoy seeing them together like this, hearing the moans and sighs they pull from each other, you’re not ready to cross that line.

Carefully, you put down the glasses on the couch table, making sure not to spill anything, before walking around it to Javi and Katie. They both don’t acknowledge your presence with words, but you see Katie’s shoulders shift and you feel Javi’s eyes on you. Heart pounding, you lean down, pushing yourself between Katie and Javi, blocking her. He doesn’t let go of the back of her head until you capture his lip between your teeth and bite down, not hard but firm enough for him to let out a surprised huff. He kisses you back immediately, tongue in your mouth, the hand that was just in Katie’s hair on your cheek, and you’re sure you’re imagining it, but you can taste a certain sweetness on his lips that you don’t usually find there. You could get lost in this kiss, forget where you are and for how long you’ve been there, were it not for Katie’s body right next to you, her sweet, soft perfume clouding your senses that are usually focused on Javi’s strong smell. Javi’s cigarettes and sweat are mixed with something more feminine, something that sets your nerves on fire and makes you itch all over. You want them both so much it feels overwhelming.

Katie, refusing to be put on the sideline, shifts once more, and your gaze lands on her, on her eyebrows that are raised in a challenging question. That look ignites a fire at the base of your spine and you feel your pussy clench in anticipation. A small growl from Javi, demanding your attention, only piles onto that burning desire between your legs. Holding Katie’s gaze, you both agree: This time should be about Javi and his desires. The nonverbal dialogue happening between the two of you goes unnoticed by him, who is shackled by the sight of Katie sinking to her knees in front of him. A smug smile darts across your lips at his wide eyes and flushed cheeks, at the way his mouth hangs slightly open as he watches Katie unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans.

A part of you would like to watch and see how this all plays out, but instead you kneel on the couch beside him and kiss his neck, long, deep kisses, worrying his skin between your teeth, licking at it when he gasps at the sensation, enjoying how the tendons jump beneath your lips. If you pause for long enough, you can feel his pulse, hard and fast, accompanied by bursts of air tickling the top of your head. You kiss lower, move lower with your whole body, kissing his chest as you unbutton his shirt, slowly, lavishing attention on every bit of newly exposed skin. He rewards you with deep rumbles and breathless sighs, while he watches you and Katie working on taking him apart.

Once his shirt hangs open, you lean back to look at his exposed chest, the light freckles and hard nipples, content with your work. Now you can watch his ribcage rise and fall, watch how fast his breath is coming, watch how the muscles in his belly tremble in anticipation. And then you lower your gaze further to where Katie is kneeling in front of him, pushing his jeans down to his ankles, and you see his hard cock, already leaking, resting against his lower abdomen. A small moan, a sigh’s cousin, escapes you, and his gaze is immediately on you, smugness beneath his lust-dazed expression. Katie is looking at you too, up from where her naked knees press into the hard floor, a question in her eyes.

You nod, giving her permission.

Careful fingers close around the base of Javi’s cock, lifting him up. He likes it when you’re rough with him, but Katie is still so new at this that he doesn’t ask for what he needs. Instead, he watches her in awe as her lips close around the tip of his cock and she hollows her cheeks, pulling a strangled moan from him. You’ve seen them like this before, but not in broad daylight, and you’re transfixed by the sight in front of you, by the angry, red flush spreading on his chest and neck, by her furrowed brow as she tries to take more of him in. He’s holding back, hands balled into fists, resting on the couch next to his thighs. You know how much he’d like to grab the back of her head and thrust into her warm mouth, and how much self-restraint it takes him not to. He’s determined to give her time to get used to his size, even though he might not get as much pleasure from it as he could if he just took from her. And even though his consideration makes your heart grow big with love for him, a tiny part of you wishes he would just let go and fuck Katie’s mouth and throat until there were tears streaming down her face.

Before you can examine that thought too closely, you glide down on the floor next to Katie, wanting to help with the task at hand. While she’s still busy with his tip, trying to take as much of him in her mouth as she can, you carefully untangle her fingers from the base of Javi’s cock and then lick up his length until you’re almost touching Katie’s lips with your tongue. Javi hisses when you do it, and grabs your shoulder in a hard grip, so you do it again, with a little more pressure this time. An encouraging squeeze is your reward.

You leave small kisses up and down his length, hot little marks that make his cock twitch. It’s only when he gives you a strangled, “More,” that you go back to licking him, eager, fast, moving further up with each swipe of your tongue, until you’re almost at the tip, almost at the spot where Katie’s lips hold him. Your tongue runs across her bottom lip and then you’re both there, kissing his tip, kissing each other, hungrily, with Javi’s cock between you.

You grab Katie’s chin to pull her off him, to kiss her more, feel her whimpers against your fingers and cheek. She follows you willingly, leaning into you, a hand finding your thigh to hold onto you. And while you kiss her like a starving woman, like her lips and mouth and tongue are the only things that will keep you from a painful death, you keep your hold on Javi, jerk him off hard and fast. The living room is full of wet sounds, the sounds of your kisses, the sounds of your hand on Javi’s cock, wet, ragged bursts of breath from all three of you. And once your hunger has been sated at least for a little while, you lead Katie back between Javi’s legs and push her mouth down, a hand at the back of her head, tangled in her hair, refusing to let her back up again until you hear him groan deeply.

His chest is vibrating with pleasure, and he lets his eyes fall shut, trusting the both of you to take care of him. His head falls back while his legs open wider, and you see the tiny thrusts he’s allowing himself now, not much, but definitely there, up into Katie’s mouth. That sight is almost too much for you and you shift, wishing there was something between your own legs to grind on. The realization of just how aroused you are hits you unexpectedly as you clench around nothing in time with Javi’s thrusts, whimpering desperately. For a second, you think about touching yourself to bring you some kind of relief, but you want to focus on Katie instead.

Her skirt is bunched up around her hips, and you see her underwear peeking out from beneath the hem, dark, lacy panties that don’t cover up much. While still holding on to Javi’s cock with your right hand, you start to stroke along her thigh with your left, appreciating how her skin immediately responds to your touch with goosebumps. She tries to move away yet closer to you, as if unable to decide if she welcomes or curses the touch, but then you push two fingers between her legs. Her responding moan is so loud and deep, you’re sure Javi can feel the vibration along his length.

Javi’s eyes snap open. “Don’t make her come, baby.” His voice is so deliciously deep and ragged, and you’re so aroused you could come just from hearing him talk.

“Don’t worry,” you assure him, your voice less breathless than you would expect, “her first orgasm is yours.”

You press down harder against Katie, giving her just enough time for a small whimper in response to your promise. You roll her clothed clit between your fingers, and are rewarded with more addictive moans and a little twitch of her hips that sends a pleasant tingling down your spine. Javi keeps a watchful eye on you as you play with Katie, his fingers digging into your shoulder. In response, you tighten your grip around the base of his cock and increase the pressure between Katie’s legs once more, so she pushes herself up onto her knees, chasing the friction. You feel how wet she is through her panties, and it sparks a different kind of hunger in you, a desire to taste her on your tongue again. She’s losing some control, becomes distracted, sloppy, and it’s just how Javi likes it.

He comes, accompanied by unrestrained pants, spilling down Katie’s throat. In response, you feel a gush of arousal on your fingers as she shifts to catch it all on her tongue, eager for his taste, too turned on to think about concepts such as dignity or restraint. But it’s too much for her, she can’t handle it all – some spills onto her chest and neck as she does her best, and you watch Javi coat her skin, his hand now covering yours, squeezing himself.

You’re taken back to a few days ago when you were meeting at the coffee shop, and Katie spilled some of the cream from the cake she was eating onto her chest and fingers. You remember the feeling of wanting to lean in and help her clean up, to swipe a finger through the mess or use your tongue to lick at the sweet cream and her even sweeter skin. How so many factors – internal and external – were holding you back and you watched her laugh it off and clean herself with a napkin. The tremble that goes through you now at the memory is one of longing.

Javi, observant as he is, noticed your struggle back at the coffee shop, and he notices it now, too. “You wanna help her, baby?” he asks, leaning back comfortably against the couch, his voice deep, fucked out, yet unbearably soft. “Go on, help her.”

You lean forward and give a small rope of cum along her neck an experimental lick, just to feel her quick pulse beneath your tongue. You suck at the spot and hold her in place with a hand at the nape of her neck, then move lower to where Javi spilled some at the top of her cleavage. Carefully, you cup her breast to push it up a little, so you have better access, relishing how her nipple hardens immediately under your touch. Her soft skin is so hot beneath your tongue, and she tastes so sweet that your head starts to spin. Javi’s taste is much harder, but you love it all the same, and you’re so eager for more of the both of them.

While you make your way back up her neck to her jaw, Javi, in his soft voice, whispers, “You did so well, Katie.” He swallows hard, then continues. “You looked so pretty with my cock in your mouth, and you took me so well.”

She shivers beneath your touch, her eyes closed, taking in his praise and your soft licks. You nibble at her jaw, at her earlobe, then kiss her cheek all the way to her mouth to lick at the last bit of Javi’s release there. The licks turn into a breath-stealing kiss, one that makes her lean into you and grab Javi’s leg for support.

“You’re such a good girl, Katie,” Javi adds somewhere above you.

She breaks the kiss and looks up at him. “Thank you, sir.”

The glance they exchange, the unfolding power dynamic between them makes you shiver. It feels like there is more to this, like Katie is taunting him, maybe even disrespecting him in a way she could never do at work, and the desire to see this unfold turns you on even more. You, too, look up at Javi, a question in your eyes, waiting for him to decide what the next move is going to be, hoping for something that will scratch that infernal itch inside of you.

Slowly, he toes off his shoes and steps out of his jeans. They form a heap between you and Katie, a heap that grows when he adds his shirt to it. He’s naked, and confidently so. A smirk dances across his face as he stands up and watches you and Katie ogle him – how could you not? How could you not stare at his skin, still flushed from his recent orgasm, at the flexing muscles in his thighs, at his broad shoulders when he extends you each a hand, at his straining arms as he pulls both of you up.

His hand is warm and softly calloused, and you close your fingers around it, welcoming his steadying grip. On his other side, Katie is trapped beneath Javi’s arm that slings around her shoulders, a heavy weight against her small frame. She doesn’t hold onto his hand but slings an arm around his middle, her fingers brushing your side as she does. Linked like this, Javi leads you into the bedroom.

Once there, he positions you both in front of him, then cups your cheek and presses a gentle kiss against your lips, one that ends with a small nip and an apologetic lick. Both draw a gasp from you. His hand still warm against your cheek, he leans over to Katie and kisses her too, rougher, her fingers scraping his scalp. He growls against her hungrily and you see her break into a proud smile.

“Undress,” he says to no one in particular, swallowing hard.

You don’t hesitate for a single second. Pushing Katie by her shoulder until her back connects with the wall, trapping her in an open-mouthed kiss, you start to unbutton her blouse, the blue one you love so much. Katie only takes a second or two to catch on and immediately gets to work on the zipper of your pants, pushing back against you with a sigh. Your knuckles brush against her hard nipple and you can’t resist the urge to roll it under the pad of your thumb – her faltering breath is your reward. She gets you back by running her finger along the hem of your underwear, then just beneath it, making you gasp and widen your stance, impatient for her to go lower.

“Eager,” she comments, removing her hand.

“Katie, please.” You sound so desperate that it makes pride sparkle in her eyes.

She leans in close until her mouth is against your ear, tickling you, when she whispers, “Oh no, you don’t get to ask for anything, not after what you did back there.”

You’re breathless when you retort, “What exactly did I do?”

She unzips her skirt and steps out of it before roughly grabbing your wrist and pushing your hand into her panties. You groan when you’re met with heat and wetness, when you feel how soaked she is, when you run your fingers over her clit, between her folds. She rocks against you, chases friction, lets her head fall against your shoulder. A shaking hand finds its way under your shirt, and she cups your breast, squeezing hard. You lean into her touch, pressing her against the wall, trapping her.

“This isn’t just him, you know,” she whispers, then sighs when one of your fingers slips into her. “This is also you.” She swallows hard. “I want … I want …”

Before she can finish the sentence, a broad hand closes around your wrist and pulls. Katie makes a sound akin to a sob at the loss but doesn’t fight it.

“I said undress,” Javi presses, making you take a step back.

You pull your shirt over your head, then drop it to the floor.

“Good,” he observes with a nod.

Katie unhooks her bra and lets it fall, which earns her an appreciative glance from Javi. “Can I touch her?” she asks.

Javi cocks his head to the side, considering her request, but then shakes his head. “No, there will be enough time for that later. Go lie on the bed next to each other.”

You both take your time undressing, you with unsure hands while your thoughts race in every possible direction this could go in. Katie, her chin raised in defiance, steals a glance at you whenever she can, heat in her eyes, and you want her to know how much she turns you on, how much you want her, but you don’t dare defy Javi again. He’s right … there will be enough time for that later.

You lie down on the right side of the bed, Katie on the left. It’s so bright in the bedroom (was it always so bright?), and you toy with the thought of covering yourself up because you feel too much on display, too vulnerable. But then you look to your left at Katie, and see how she looks at you, eyes roaming over your naked form, over every blemish, every wrinkle. And you allow yourself to look at her, at her firm breasts (so much firmer than yours), at her taut belly, at the way her chest rises and falls fast, every breath full of longing and desire and desperation. Her flushed cheek rests against the cool bedspread, her right hand against your left side.

“Good,” Javi says from somewhere above you.

You look at him then, watch him run a hand up and down your thigh, toward your center, teasing you. You lift your hips slightly, impatiently, and he removes his hand in response, but just to kneel down between Katie and you. And then he’s fast, towering above you, pushing two fingers into you, burying them deep inside, stroking that spot that makes you see stars. You clench around him, hard, fast, desperate, fighting to keep him inside of you. He draws moans from you, deep ones, loud ones that make your ears ring.

“Baby, you’re soaked.” You barely register that Javi is talking to you because your body is so busy processing the onslaught of pleasure he’s inflicting on you. “Did it turn you on that much to watch her get me off?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. How do you even answer that?

“I think it turned her on to be watched by you,” Javi goes on. “Didn’t it, Katie? Or was it both – having my cock in your mouth and her fingers on your clit?”

Katie groans and thrusts her hips so hard you feel the bed shake. You lift your head and realize that he also has two fingers deep inside her, allowing her to fuck herself on them while he fucks you. Her eyes are shut tightly, and her legs are trembling so much she collapses back onto the bed. Javi takes over right away, fucks her, a sight that makes your limbs tingle, that makes pressure build at the base of your spine.

“It turned me on to clean her up after you were done with her,” you say.

Your answer surprises all three of you – both their heads snap in your direction, Javi’s gaze full of heat, Katie’s aroused, lust-clouded look mixed with a tinge of disbelief. He rewards you with a particularly deep, hard thrust that pushes you further up the bed.

“I liked being watched by her,” you hear Katie’s voice through a thick cloud of sharp arousal. “I liked the weight of you on … on my tongue …” She groans, and you know that Javi just crooked his fingers inside of her. “And I-, I-,” she stammers, arching her back, a strangled, high moan interrupting her.

“You what, Katie?” Javi asks, playful condescension in his tone.

Katie swallows down another onslaught of voiced pleasure before she answers. “And I loved how she toyed with me.”

You clench down hard on Javi’s fingers, two times, and you know what’s about to happen next.

“Javi,” you warn, gripping his wrist tightly.

Then his fingers are gone, leaving you empty and aching, pulsing with need. You groan in frustration, ready to complain. But before you can form the words, you see Javi push his fingers, the ones that were just in your cunt, into Katie’s mouth. She closes a hand around his wrist in response, holds him there, and you watch as her throat moves, as she sucks eagerly, lewd sounds accompanying it, her eyes closed in pure bliss. You blink a few times in disbelief as she arches her back, rolls her hips to push more of Javi’s fingers into her, sucks and sucks and sucks, licking his digits hungrily, tongue swirling around the tips, making the sweetest sighs and moans.

Javi’s pupils are blown wide as he watches her. His chest is rising and falling with deep breaths while he tries to work up a steady rhythm. Experimentally, he presses down against Katie’s tongue and gets a choked moan as a response, so he does it again and her eyes fly open just as her legs start to tremble uncontrollably.

Javi looks at you then. “Do you think she can handle a third?”

You watch her briefly, the utter desperation in her eyes, the small, eager nod she gives you, the way her fist at her side grips at the bedspread. “Yes,” you say, your voice hoarse, sure you could come untouched if this goes on for much longer.

Javi adds a third finger at both ends, and her eager, thankful moan, muffled by the weight on her tongue, turns into a series of pants, groans, and eager cries. She’s trembling hard as she comes and Javi holds her like this, the fingers in her mouth stilling, the ones in her cunt pumping in and out of her fast. You feel your face heat up at that sight, a delicious, uncontrollable heat that makes you ache all over with desire. It’s not until Javi turns his attention back to you that you realize you’ve been rolling your hips in tight circles, begging for some kind of friction to release the unbearable, burning pressure you feel everywhere.

Before Katie has recovered, before she has even stopped shaking, Javi pulls his fingers out of her cunt with a wet sound and immediately pushes them past your lips into your mouth. You don’t wait for him to tell you what it is he wants you to do because there is nothing you want more in this world right now. Your licks are eager and fast as you try to catch every bit of Katie’s release on your tongue, both of your hands around Javi’s wrist to keep him in place. Unable to keep your eyes open, you give in to desire, overwhelmed by Katie’s taste, one you’ve been unable to forget, one you’ve longed to savor again. Licking it off Javi’s strong, thick fingers like this is so overwhelming you don’t register that he has three fingers inside you at first. You also don’t register Katie groping for your hand.

It’s only when she gasps as you dig your nails into her, when the pressure between your legs becomes so unbearable it snaps that you become aware of the other two being there for you. Your orgasm hits you hard, slams into you with rapid relief, breaking something that has been building up steadily for too long. You know you’re leaving dents in Katie’s skin, you know Javi can feel your desperation as every wave of pleasure grips his fingers tighter, and you want them to know. You want them to know how good they make you feel, how much you want them to see what they do to you, how much you trust them. Katie’s taste in your mouth only spurs you on – they both worked together to give you this much bliss and they both deserve to know it.

Once Javi is satisfied, once you’ve stopped writhing beneath him, and once Katie is the one holding your hand instead of the other way around, Javi presses a kiss to your lips, growling possessively at the unfamiliar taste there, then leans over to kiss Katie, letting her nip on his jaw afterwards.

"You both did so good,” he mumbles into Katie’s hair before leaning over to stroke your arm from your shoulder down to your hand, intertwining your fingers. “Let me get you cleaned up.”

He squeezes your hand then lets go, pushing himself off the bed. You watch him disappear into the bathroom, then let yourself fall back with a happy sigh.

Katie is immediately there next to you, pressing her torso against yours, cupping your cheek. She kisses you lazily, like she has all the time in the world, like she could do this for hours. You kiss her back, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to just feel. Your body is still humming with pleasure, and even though you felt satisfied a minute ago, you now realize that your desire runs much deeper.

Katie shifts so she’s on top of you, pressing one thigh between your legs. You push down, immediately seeking contact; that familiar tingling at the back of your spine urging you on. An encouraging sigh is your reward, one that turns into a throaty moan when Katie feels how wet you still are.

“You look so pretty when you come,” she mumbles between kisses. “Have I ever told you that?”

You don’t know – you don’t remember. But if she were to ask you your own name right now, you also wouldn’t know the answer to that question.

“Can I touch you?”

Now this is a question you know how to answer. It feels like your body has been set on fire, deep desire making your blood boil, anticipation making you shiver.

“Yes, please,” you reply with an eager nod, opening your legs to give her better access.

“You’re always so polite,” Katie observes, kissing down your neck. “I wonder what you are like when you let go, when you ask for what you want instead of wait for it to be offered to you.”

You could tell her exactly what you’re like when you ask – after all, didn’t you ask for this? Javi wasn’t the one to admit he wanted to repeat this … it was you. You long to tell Katie that, see the response on her face, surprise her. But then her hand brushes up against your folds, your swollen clit, and you hiss, still tender from earlier.

Katie drops down next to you and nods toward the bathroom door. “Look at him,” she mumbles into your neck, “I think he likes to watch us.”

You turn into the same direction and see Javi standing in the doorframe. One hand is holding a washcloth, the one he got to clean you up. With the other hand, he’s slowly fisting his cock. His mouth hangs slightly open, but he doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t tell you what to do, he just watches. Being seen by him like this turns you on so much you push up into Katie’s touch and she rewards you by slipping the tip of her index finger into you.

When you asked Javi if you could invite Katie back, you had your suspicions. Your hopes. Him wanting to watch Katie and you together was something you wanted him to want but hadn’t dared to ask him for because it had felt like you would be revealing too much of your deepest desires, the ones you can’t yet label yourself, the ones that are still so new you haven’t had time to properly examine them yourself. But you get it now – after all, you know what he feels right now. You felt this too when you wanted him to take from Katie, when you wanted to watch them fuck each other. That image alone is enough to draw a moan from somewhere deep inside your chest. Yes, this is complex and complicated and something the two (or even three) of you need to have a conversation about, but right now you only want to give him what he wants.

You begin to roll your hips, pressing your clit against Katie’s palm, and she obliges by increasing the pressure. Her gaze wanders between you and Javi, and she has a small, beautiful smile on her face, one of contentment. You whimper as a jolt of pleasure shoots through you, and her eyes land on you, not cloudy with desire, but scorching with it instead – her pupils are blown wide, yes, but she looks at you with steely determination and defiance.

“Let’s put on a little show for him,” she whispers so quietly only you can hear it.

And then she does.

She kisses your neck, devoting a lot of attention to the spot behind your ear that, when nipped, draws a sharp breath from you. She kisses your shoulders, kisses the top of your breasts, sucks one of your nipples into her mouth and swirls her tongue around it. The sensation makes you arch your back, makes your body beg for more. There is still that slightly bitter aftertaste on your tongue, left there by her words, by calling this a show, because it doesn’t feel like one. It feels like she’s not doing this for him, she’s doing this to pleasure you, and, by extension, herself. The nagging thoughts make you lose focus, and you sigh in frustration, angry with yourself for letting this get to you so much. Katie doesn’t notice as she kisses across your stomach, your sides, your lower abdomen.

Then she’s suddenly there, with her tongue, licking against your clit, and you snap right back into the moment, grabbing handfuls of the bedspread to keep you grounded. She’s so much softer than Javi, much more careful with you, not yet sure how you like it. And you don’t tell her how close you suddenly are, how seeing her between your legs, looking up at you curiously while she licks through your desire, coating her chin and lips and the tip of her nose in it, pushes you right toward the edge.

“Katie.”

It’s a warning, leaving no room for discussion. When you look toward Javi, you see he has stopped touching himself and is just watching you now, fingers flexing while he has to hold back from stepping in. And suddenly, unexpectedly, it hits you how much you love him. There is this man who asked you to allow someone else into your bedroom, this man who let you set all the rules, who makes this about you and Katie wherever he can, who makes you feel wanted and desired even with another woman there, a woman who is younger, firmer, prettier than you. It’s all so much, the love you feel for him, and suddenly all you want is to have him inside of you.

Katie, however, has different plans. With Javi watching you like he’s about to rush over and pull her up from between your legs, and her tongue licking into you, her mouth sucking on your clit, taking everything you give her, you don’t last long. There is no slow buildup, no way to prepare or warn either of them. Vaguely, from the edge of your consciousness, you hear Javi urge, “Katie, don’t you dare make her come,” but it’s too late.

Your release coats Katie’s tongue, smears all over her chin as she licks you through it. She moans when she feels you pulse against her, pulls you close by your hips to devour more of you. It’s impossible to lose yourself entirely in her when you hear Javi growl, a mixture between possessiveness and interest. That’s what you were missing earlier, what you were suspecting was going on between Javi and Katie, what you longed to watch play out – Katie needs to disrespect Javi’s authority, and the only place she can do that is here, in the safety of his bedroom. Here, she can ignore his orders, fight him on them, rile him up. And he is willing to fight her, to make her follow him, in a way he could never do at work.

But the realization that gets you most, that makes you clench, immediately makes you hungry for a third orgasm, is that it’s you they’re fighting over. Katie is using you to get to Javi, not because you’re conveniently there, but because she enjoys having sex with you. And Javi wants to be the one in charge so he can look after you, make you feel good, fuck you until you can’t walk properly. He hadn’t counted on the woman he asked to join you to have such an effect on you, and it brings out his possessive side, a side that makes you want him even more.

You just don’t know how to talk to them about it yet.

But before you can get lost in your thoughts, Javi pulls Katie off you roughly and holds her pressed against his chest, one arm slung around her middle, the other one around her neck and shoulders. Her eyes are blown wide in surprise, and you allow yourself to look at her, to look at the tightly curled hair between her legs that is slick with arousal, at her nipples, hard with anticipation, at the way the sun falling in through the window onto her makes the sweat on her skin glisten.

“Lie down,” Javi orders her, holding her tighter against his body, pressing his hard erection into her soft skin. She gasps and nods slightly, his grip not allowing for more movement. When he lets go of her, she hurries to comply, lying down on the bed next to you, propped up on her elbows to watch him.

“And you.” Javi hovers above you, solid, imposing, filling almost your entire field of vision. He leans down, and then he kisses you, oh so softly, a tender caress that makes you whimper into his mouth. “Are you okay?”

He makes you feel so loved you feel too overwhelmed to answer him with words. All you can do is nod slowly because yes, you’re very much all right.

He caresses your cheek, cups it in his strong hand. “What do you need?”

That is a question easily answered. “I want you inside of me.”

“Yes.” He sounds so breathless. “Anything for you, baby …” His eyes flicker to Katie’s for a second, then they’re back on you, and you can see an idea forming behind them, can see the little cogs in his brain turning. “Do you want to teach her a lesson?”

Yes, fuck, you do. You want to get back at her for making you feel so vulnerable, you want to help Javi take back some of the control he had to surrender to her. But mostly you want him to come inside of you, to mark you as his.

Javi tells you to get up on your hands and knees above Katie, trapping her between your limbs. You hurry to comply, your heart pumping blood so fast through your veins you hear it rush in your ears.

“Watch what happens when you disrespect me,” Javi tells Katie, and then his open palm lands against your exposed ass with a loud slap, making you sway forward.

Katie’s mouth falls open and you can feel the desperation radiate off her body. Javi does it again, and you moan, relishing how your skin stings where his hand landed. You hope he’s leaving a mark, one you can admire tomorrow morning and remind you of how much you’re wanted. The third slap is harder, and you fold, lowering yourself onto your elbows, your face an inch from Katie’s. All the confusing feelings are gone. You’re grounded, you know exactly what you want, and you feel so good it makes your head spin. This is what you wanted – what you needed all along, and you’re set on enjoying whatever Javi and Katie have in store for you.

You push back to taunt him, push against his erection with your ass, until he grips your hips to still you. “Go on, Katie,” he says, and you can hear the permission in his voice, the voice of a man who is used to people listening to him, “see how much she’s enjoying herself.”

You groan when Katie presses her palm and fingers against your soaked folds, the heel of her hand against your clit, the tip of three digits pressing into you with the slightest of pressure.

“Fuck,” she breathes out, and you don’t need her to tell you what she found because you know only too well, but you want her to say it. And she does. “She’s soaked.” The way Katie says that word, with breathless surprise verging on the edge of desire has you press your cunt against her hand and your lips against hers.

Before Katie can slip her fingers into you, Javi pulls you back by your hips, his grip hard as steel, unrelenting, impossible to escape. You feel the head of his thick, full cock against your folds for only a second and then he fills you, stretches you, pushes and pushes until you’re shaking so hard it becomes almost impossible to hold yourself upright. Sensing your predicament, he grabs the back of your head and presses you down, right between Katie’s legs.

You didn’t know how much you were starving until you taste her again, feel her soft, wet folds on your tongue, get to bury half your face in her sweet cunt. You drink her up like a parched woman, lick into her, roll your tongue over her clit, breathe her in. And with every thrust Javi gives you from behind, he pushes you up against her, making this so much easier for you. You sling one arm around Katie’s thigh, rest the other against her stomach, holding on to her when Javi starts to fuck you harder.

“Hold down her head.” His voice is so strained you can tell he’s holding back. “You can be rough with her, she can take it.”

Katie’s hand lands on the back of your head, her grip soft and testing. This isn’t enough, and definitely not what Javi had in mind. You struggle against her, trying to lift your head, and she puts more force into her hold, pushing you down against her cunt, and then holding you there so there’s nothing left for you to do than lick and suck and moan into her softness.

“Yeah, like that, that’s it.”

Javi picks up speed, slams into you with quick snaps, and you realize you’re clenching around him, pulsing with desire kindled by the feeling of Katie holding down your head, rolling her hips against your tongue, by Javi fucking you from behind with such force you feel each push deep in the pit of your stomach. You’re trapped. They’re both just taking from you, chasing their own pleasure, using you as a means to an end. You’ve never been more turned on in your life, more eager to give, desperate to be used.

Javi stretches you open, buries himself deep inside of you with each thrust, holds you in place with both hands on your hips. The stretch from this angle is burning, bordering on painful – a pinch of pain in a sea of pleasure. It would be overwhelming for you if it was only you and him, but the feeling of Katie’s soaked folds on your tongue, of her hand holding you in place, of her nails digging into your neck with each thrust Javi gives you makes you forget everything but them. You don’t even care where this ends for you, just as long as the other two find pleasure and completion in your body.

Then Javi’s finger presses against your clit and your world begins to tilt. You moan his name loudly, muffled by Katie’s cunt, but you know they both understand you perfectly. Javi groans behind you, increases the pressure on your clit, and Katie …

She’s coming, pushing herself up into your mouth so you can feel every pulse on your tongue. Her steady moans turn into desperate little sobs and whines, and when you open your eyes to look up at her, you find her watching you, letting herself be watched by you, showing you every detail of her orgasm on her beautiful face. You drink up every last drop that she gives you, clean her eagerly, savoring her taste, committing every nuance to memory.  

Once Katie shivers and pushes you away, you lift your head, only to feel how Javi is pulling out of you. Your protesting sound turns into one of surprise when he flips you onto your back next to her and guides himself back into your warmth, burying himself deeply in your pussy and your neck. Warmth floods you and you hold him, run your fingers through his hair, as he rocks into you gently with a steady roll of his hips. It’s so intimate you almost forget she’s there, but then she presses into your side. Soft kisses land on your neck while she plays with one of your nipples, pinching it to make you gasp, then stroking it with feather-like touches.

When she speaks her voice is so quiet Javi can’t hear her. “It’s never just for show.”

Something expands inside of you at that admission, and the last echo of a nagging voice dies down. This is just as meaningful to her as it is to you, and a tiny sob of relief escapes you, lands somewhere behind Javi’s ear as a tickling burst of breath. He lifts his head and kisses you so very, very softly, like he’s putting all the love and tenderness he feels for you into that one brush of lips.

“Come for me, baby.”

You can’t deny him, and when you do, he joins you, spilling into you while he guides you through the crashing waves of pleasure. It’s only when he’s satisfied with his work, when your whimpers against his neck turn into deep breaths, that he rolls off you and pushes himself between Katie and you.

Your hand immediately seeks out the warm skin of his stomach, caressing it, feeling how he breathes in and out slowly, satisfied. Katie’s hand joins yours and you tangle your fingers together, hold onto each other. You rest your head against Javi’s shoulder and sigh happily.

“I love you, Javi.”

He kisses your forehead. “I love you, too.”

You squeeze Katie’s hand, a poor substitute for all the things you want to tell her. There is so much you need to say but you don’t yet know how. You don’t even know what it is you’re feeling yet but being with her makes you happy. She makes you happy. But that’s something you need to examine for yourself first before you can tell anyone about it. You don’t yet understand what it means.

Javi kisses your forehead again, then Katie’s. Then he pulls you both close. “My good girls.”

Katie squeezes your hand, glancing at you across Javi’s chest. And you wonder if she feels the same.

triumvirate taglist: @1andthesame | @acdeaky | @batdarkladyvampir | @beskarprincessjenny | @darksber | @darnitdraco | @deliriouslybewitching | @desir-ae | @dobbyjen | @doin-stuff | @fireproofmarta | @floraandfrost | @for-my-satisfaction | @highsviolets | @itssmashedavo | @jettia | @justanotherblonde23 | @kesskirata | @knivesareout | @lavenderluna10 | @lawfulgranola | @leannawithacapitala | @letaliabane | @lovesbiggerthanpride | @MSWarriorBabe80 | @nicks-nelson | @noctiscorvus | @omgreally | @pedropascalsx | @pedrostories | @phoenixhalliwell | @pilothusband | @practicalghost | @rebel-fanfare | @redcrvette | @reluctantlyresponsibleadult | @silksaddle | @skyshipper | @softpedropascal | @spacenerdpascal | @sweetgirlray | @tacticalsparkles | @tanzthompson | @the-blind-assassin-12 | @theorganasolo | @thesmutslut | @vanemando15

javier pena taglist: @pookipedia​

permanent taglist: @adricnchase​ | @amneris21​ | @aurelacmoon​ | @chronic-nosebleed​ | @din-jarhead​ | @harriedandharassed​ | @jazzelsaur​ | @lestradeslover​ | @martellthemandalor​ | @nyfeeer​ | @nobodys-baby-now​ | @pedrorascal​ | @radiowallet​  

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña #agent peña x reader #agent peña x you #javier peña x reader x katie #javier peña x you x katie #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #about a million years late but it's finally here!!!!!!!!!!

[tightjeansjavi]

𝑺𝒘𝒊𝒑𝒆 𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝑳𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝑪𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒕 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒅

Sex Escapades With Agent Peña

(Javi Peña x f!reader) NSFW🔞

A/N: and so the sex escapades with Javi P begin! 🥵

Summary: a lazy Sunday morning with your boyfriend Javi Peña ends up with you using his face as your personal seat.

~word count: 2.0k~

Warnings: smut with no plot, established relationship, work relationship, oral receiving (female) face sitting, cum eating, teasing, edging, dirty talk, praise kink, consent, Javi Peña really loves eating pussy. (+18) minors dni !

Lazy Sunday mornings with your boyfriend, Javi Peña, were your absolute favorite. It was the one day out of the entire week where he was all yours. No interruptions, no Escobar, no incessant calls from Murphy. Just you, and Javi, secluded from the outside world in your cozy apartment.

You had been secretly, yet not so secretly dating Javi for 6 months now. You worked at the US Embassy in Colombia as a receptionist. How did you cross paths with Agent Peña exactly? Well, he needed an important document taken care of and you were working the late hours. All it took was for him to make a comment about your nail polish looking pretty, and for him to look at you with those deep brown eyes, and you caved instantly.

So, maybe you also fantasized about the DEA agent on a daily basis. He’d stride in, wearing another unnecessarily tight shirt, wearing his classic aviators. He was absolutely a tall glass of water that you were begging to get a taste of.

Now? You could have him whenever, wherever, and however you’d want him. Javi lived for pleasing you. You connected on various different topics but what really drove it home for you, was how passionate of a lover Javi Peña was.

No details went unnoticed by him, especially in the bedroom. You had no idea just how many times you were capable of cumming from under a man’s tongue, till he stepped into your life. He loved lapping at your pussy, drinking in your moans and mewls that he elicited from you with his skillful tongue. Your nails would be scraping his hair, leaving scratches on his scalp, as you would desperately try to clench your legs around his head when the euphoric tingling would become too much. He’d whispered against your ruined cunt, “patience, cariño. I’m not finished with you yet, pretty girl.” he’d let out a low hum, knowing how his voice would vibrate deliciously up your core.

Your boyfriend knew how to ruin you in many different ways and he never left you feeling unsatisfied. It was about your pleasure above his. It was the sexiest fucking thing, to have a man that practically worshipped the ground you walked on.

On this particular Sunday, you were comfortably lying between his tan, bare, muscular thighs. Neither of you were shy to be naked in front of each other in the slightest. You had reached a level of intimacy that you never dreamed you would find with anyone. His chest was pressed firmly against your back, and the familiar scent of his cologne, musk, and cigarette smoke wafted through your nose. Javi always had a cigarette pursed between his lips.

His softened cock, was resting comfortably along the top of his thigh, the rigid head was dribbled with precum and all you would have to do is lean over and drag your tongue along him, and lap up the musky residue from his skin. You were painfully aware of how close his fingertips were to your inner thigh, flexing against the soft, plush skin.

His free hand was clutched around a book, one that you had lended to him. You both knew that he wouldn’t make it through a page, let alone a chapter, just by the way his fingers slowly inched closer to your pussy.

“What’re you thinking about cariño? My pretty girl.”

You let out a low hum, glancing up at him through your lashes, as you lifted your hand from his thigh and brought it to his jaw, dragging your fingers along the stubble on his chin.

“Mmm..you really want to know?” Your thighs had spread open at the slightest, on impulse as if his fingers alone had coaxed them open from the slightest touch.

“I could always guess. I’m rather good at that, wouldn’t you say? Know exactly what’s going on in that pretty little mind of yours baby.” he tapped his fingers along the apex of your inner thigh, nudging them open more.

“I think I have you beat this time Javi.” You let out a soft sigh, sinking back against his chest, letting your body, mind and soul, relax against his broad frame.

“Oh? Is that so? Well, we’ll just have to see about that baby. So, you don’t want me to touch you then?” He plucked his dying cigarette from between his lips, tapping it down on the ashtray on the nightstand alongside your bed, along with the book, before he brought his arm around your waist, gently easing your body up into a sitting position. He used his thighs as leverage to spread you open more, and rested his chin along the side of your shoulder.

“Oh no, I do want you to touch me, please baby. I want to do something else though. Something that I think you and I would really fucking enjoy.” You turned your head towards him, easily capturing his lips between yours. You kissed him languidly, feeling his broad nose bump into yours as he inhaled, breathing hot air down your throat, as his tongue slipped between your lips, teeth clashing.

“Mmm. What did you have in mind this time, cariño? Lay it all on me, baby. I’m all ears.” He mumbled against your lips, taking your lower lip between his teeth, biting down as he tugged it out before releasing it.

“I want to sit on your face baby.” You confessed, and grabbed his hand that was still wrapped around your thigh, and placed it over your aching cunt. You both took a shuttered breath as his broad fingers slowly dragged through your slick folds. You were dripping for him. The slick walls of your pussy were already clenching around air, and he had barely touched you.

“You wanna sit on my face princesa? Never thought you’d ask. Mmm, look at you baby, spread wide for me, dripping already. You’re absolutely filthy cariño. absolutamente sucio para mí niña bonita.”(absolutely filthy for me pretty girl)

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while, baby. It’s all for you. Always for you.” You mewled as his fingers dragged through your arousal, circling around your clit as your jaw went slack.

“I know, my pretty girl. Always so good for me. Want me to play with you first? I know how much you love when I play with your pretty little pussy, cariño. How’s it feel? Feels good?..that’s it..” He praised you, letting his lips drag from your lips, down your chin, nipping at your skin lightly.

Javier Peña was 100% a biter, and you loved it.

“Feels so nice baby..so good..” You sighed softly, your lashes fluttering shut.

“So good for me baby, so good.” He cooed.

When Javi’s teasing became too much, too overwhelming, and had your mind spinning, you turned around in his lap, your hands finding purchase around his thick thighs as you straddled his hips. He was already grabbing a handful of your ass, kneading the plump flesh between his greedy hands, bringing one hand down against your left cheek with a harsh smack.

“You ready to take your seat, cariño? Can’t wait to taste you, baby. I want to feel you dripping down my chin baby. You think you can do that for me?”

“I can do that for you. Yes, please baby.” You used his thighs as leverage as he laid his back against the pillows.

“I know you can. Can’t wait to absolutely be suffocated by your sweet pussy and thighs baby.”

He caught your lips in a chaste kiss, your tongues tangling together momentarily as he easily pulled you up his chest, breaking the kiss away to spread your thighs apart as you settled yourself over his face, only the top of his dark brown curls could be seen.

You could feel his hot breath fanning your core, causing a tingle to creep up your spine. His blunt nails dug deliciously into the purchase of your thighs, as his nose bumped against your clit, eliciting a whine from the cavern of your throat.

“Going to have you screaming my name soon, baby. Gonna fucking drink you dry. Want to feel your thighs trembling around me.” His voice was muffled against your hot skin.

His tongue dove into you, licking a hot stripe up your core as he lapped your pussy. He started with slow, methodical strokes. You writhed above him, bringing one hand down into his hair, gripping the tendrils tightly between your manicured nails. Your other hand was gripped onto the headboard, knuckles stark white as he swirled his tongue around your clit, wrapping his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

He sucked harshly, feeling your thighs begin to tremble. He was absolutely devouring you, like you were his last meal. Javier Peña loved nothing more than having his face buried deep in your pussy, tongue lapping up your sweet juices that were elicited by his sinful mouth.

You were a mess above him, feeling your thighs clench in around his head as you started to grind your hips into his face, desperately wanting more as you chased your impending orgasm. You were panting out his name mixed with a slew of curses. “Fuck—fuck Javi! I—I’m so close, baby. Please please don’t stop!” You whined.

“I’ve got you princesa. You taste so fucking sweet baby, and all for me. C’mon. Keep riding my face, just like that cariño. Doing so good for me. So fucking good.”

He squeezed your thighs, urging you on as you continued to grind your hips into his face. His broad, firm nose continuously bumped into your sensitive clit, over and over again.

Javi. Javi. Javi.

When your impending orgasm finally hit you, the air felt like it was being knocked out of your lungs, stolen from your body as you screamed his name. Your entire body shuddered above him. Thighs quivering and clenching around his head. Your eyes rolled back, lips parted open as your head dropped between your shoulders.

You caught a glimpse of Javi’s darkened pupils looking up at you. Even as you came down from your high, catching your breath, his tongue continued to lap you up. He couldn’t get enough of your sweet pussy on his taste buds. It was like a fucking drug. Sweetest fucking thing he ever tasted.

You were desperately trying to push his head away, feeling spent and overly sensitive. “Javi, baby. I can’t. Please, no more. I’m—”

“Shhh…you’re okay baby. I got you. You’re okay cariño.”

He pressed a soft, feather light kiss to your clit before he gently eased you off his face, his chin, mustache and nose were coated in your juices. His face was absolutely glistening and slick with you.

He cradled you against his chest, gently stroking your hair, patting it down as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. Your thighs found their home around his hips, hugging yourself tightly to him. He loved that your thighs had continued to tremble around him.

“You did so well for me baby. Always such a good girl for me. Did you enjoy yourself?” He spoke softly, his lips still gently pressed to your temple, tasting the salt from your sweaty skin.

“Yes, baby. Told you it would be an enjoyable experience for both of us.”

“Anytime you wanna sit on my face like that, you just let me know, okay princesa?”

“You loved it that much?”

“Loved every fucking second of it baby.”

You nuzzled your cheek into his chest closing your eyes as he continued to sweet talk you. As soon as your body had relaxed, he gently lifted you from the bed, carrying you to the bathroom where he proceeded to run you a relaxing bath. He joined you of course, holding you between his thighs once more as he gently washed your body. The rest of the afternoon was filled with napping, cooking together, and simply enjoying one another’s company. Thank god for lazy Sundays, and thank god for Javier Peña’s pussy eating skills.

#javier pena smut #javi peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena imagine #javier pena one shot #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier pena fic #javier pena #javier pena x you #javier peña #javier pena fluff #agent pena #agent peña #narcos #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #narcos smut #agent pena smut

[sugadolly]

i think i need someone older ⸜❤︎⸝‍

#it’s giving dbf! #mi amor pedrito :( #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #agent whiskey #jack daniels #javier peña #kingsman #narcos #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x you #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #agent whiskey smut #jack daniels smut #javier peña smut

[undercoverpena]

vii. oh oh oh, the sweetest thing

javier peña x f!reader | chapter seven of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: fluff. flirting. alludes to smut. sinful thoughts. continuous romcom vibes. an: javi and reader, sitting on a bed... ;) also new theme, slightly amended banner. thanks to @wildemaven for giving me the confidence to use this one ✨ wordcount: 3.4k.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

Javi wakes to cold sheets beside him. 

He stretches his arm out—and for a moment—he forgets where he is. Expecting to hear his alarm, feel the bobbles from his overly worn bedsheet.

That is until he catches the scent of sweet shampoo, perfume and—

Flipping his eyes open, he then hears the rustling.

His senses come back to him as he slowly sits up, spotting you immediately at the foot of the bed.

Compared to yesterday, you’re dressed so formally: fitted trousers, a shirt and a jacket. Your leg doing a twist, head bent—as he assumes—you’re trying to slide your foot into your shoe quietly. 

There’s minimal light fluttering into the room, all courtesy of your suitcase pushing against the heavy hotel curtains to allow enough to dress yourself. With it now allowing a slither of sunlight to creep over your face, lighting up the shades in your eyes—the ones he swears he’ll see forever when he dreams. 

The sunlight illuminates your lips—the ones he’d spent hours tasting last night—now having the chance to admire as they slide into a smile, eyes widening at the sight of him. 

“Morning—“

“Shh,” you whisper, brows dipping. “Go back to sleep, baby. It’s so early.” 

Stretching out his legs, he runs a hand over his face. “I’ll go back to my room.” 

“No, it’s okay, stay. Please. Just get up when you’re ready,” you offer. “Plus, if you move and I see any more of you, I’m not going to want to leave.” 

Softly, he feels a smirk slide up his cheek. “That so?”

Moving around the bed, he curls into your touch as it brushes through his hair—sparking memories of nails, your mouth pressed to his cheek as you begged him for more—before your lips kissed the side of his mouth. 

“Fuck. Forgot how much I like your voice.” 

“Didn’t get your fill of it last night?” 

Mirroring him, you smirk a bit more. 

His hand snakes up your wrist, keeping you here—just a bit longer. Feeling your eyes dart from one of his to the other, your grin broadening as his thumb traces a square on your skin. 

“Go to sleep. I’ll call you at lunch and let you know how I’m getting on.” 

Your face is so close it’s easy to kiss you. Deepening it, letting your mouth part as he tastes mint on your tongue, his hand sliding up— 

You pull back, humming as you tap your fingers against your lips. “I’ll be late.” 

“I can be quick.” 

Shaking your head, smirking. You move back from the bed. “I’ll see you later.”

Grinning, he lies back down, an arm flopping over his eyes. “You don’t mind me in your room?”

Pausing as you pick up your bag, you shoot him a look—one where your smile is across your entire face, not just your mouth. “I trust you. Plus, I have the important stuff, ID, money. And, if you were to steal anything, as handsome as you are, I doubt you can pull off my jean jacket, or some of the other things I've packed.”

Laughing, he shakes his head. "Have a good day, cariño."

“Try not to miss me, baby.” 

There wasn’t duplicate sales, someone just can’t do their job correctly.

if you were back home I’d call them an idiot but since it brought you here

Valid point. I’m still annoyed that it took me longer to get in the building than it did me figuring it out. 

Could have had longer in bed. 

for sleeping 

Probably not. This handsome man has me waking up early to talk to him as he starts his day.

It’s reprogrammed my internal clock. 

he must be really nice for you to let him do that 

He’s okay.

fuck hermosa 

He’s got nice hands though. And lips.

has he now 

Yeah, don’t think I could tell him to his face that I don’t think my legs have ever shaken that much. 

can’t wait to make them shake again

Yeah that was obvious this morning, charmer. 

cant blame a man when you look the way you do baby 

Stop I can’t smile like that right now.

Few more hours and I’ll be getting a cab back, will let you know when I’m back, then just need to change and then I’m yours. 

I can pick you up 

It’s fine, work will pay so let’s make them. 

You remind him again that you’ll knock for him before getting changed. 

Call for him. Like the two of you were teens ready to hang out until the sun goes down—something he found endearing and quite funny, all at once.

you wanna ask my pop if i can stay out past curfew too You’re hilarious. But I can do. I’d love to talk to your Pop. worryingly i think hed love to talk to you  Did you ever make curfew?  do I strike you as someone who didn't You strike me as someone who would work around the curfew, be technically on the land at the right time continuing the hang in the barn or something. 

Through texts, you’d seemed in high spirits. 

But when you reached his door, blasted with manufactured orange light from his room, Javi took one look at you and realised how much of a front that had been. 

He barely knew you, yet he spotted how stress sat behind your smile and how your face was twisted into a fake version of the expression he saw yesterday.

“You fancy staying in tonight?”

It was why Javi was staring over the room service menu. Hearing you shower, cancelling the reservation he’d made earlier, listening as the water fell into the base (one thin wall away) as he placed the phone back on the hook.

Trying not to think of your body—of soap suds sliding down your perfect skin and how it was likely bending and twisting as you showered. 

He tries not to think about the kiss, too. 

The one you’d given him, arm looped around his neck when he suggested staying in, ordering room service and finishing a crossword. It had taken a moment, his eyes jumping from one eye to the next as he assessed whether he’d said something dumb or smart. 

Your kiss confirmed the latter. Gratitude thrummed through it as you cupped his cheek—thank you, thank you, thank you, etching into him as he pulled your hips flush to him. Almost ready to pull you into his room when you’d mumbled about needing a shower. 

That had been half an hour ago. 

Now, he watched as you stepped out through steam, face fresh—black tee he could see the outline of your nipples through and a pair of yoga pants that made him almost choke when you bent over to pop something in your case. 

"You alright?"

Swallowing, he shifts on the bed, tilting his head. "Yeah, hermosa. You just look..."

He prefers letting his voice trail off. Watching it flicker across your face, the embarrassment. It starts with your hands coming across your front, your weight shifting, before your eyes find it difficult to meet his.

“I never asked," he says, changing the conversation, feeling the warmth of your eyes snap back to him. "Your friend, Aish? Is it? She not have anything to say about you flying miles to meet a man you don’t know?” 

You smile something wicked. “A few words, but..."

"But?"

Licking your lips, you look down at your feet. "I think she could see how happy I was. When I was talking to you. Think, like me, she just hoped you were who you said you were.”

Javi brushes his hand over his jaw, trying to fight the grin. The same one you constantly pull from him, his cheeks hurting from it happening so frequently all in one go.

“You put her mind at rest, baby?” 

“Oh yeah. First chance I got.” 

Moving to sit next to him, he hears the faint rumblings of your stomach. Something you quickly apologise for. And something you apologise for unnecessarily again a second or two later. His hand on your knee, drawing circles on the fabric covering it, hoping it assures you, relaxes you as he tells you as much.

“I don’t… I guess I don’t do things like this,” you say. “I’m not impulsive. I’m sensible—have to be. I don’t really have anyone, or thing, else if it all goes wrong, you know? And then you came along. And while my brain was telling me to be careful, the rest of me was just so sure this was…”

“Right?” 

“Yeah,” you smile. 

“So you’re glad?” 

“If my stomach weren't about to begin eating itself, I’d show you how glad. But, Javi, truthfully, I wouldn't let you be in my room again if I wasn't.” 

Allowing you to lean into him as you flick down at the menu, he presses a kiss to your cheek. “Good to know.” 

Even if his original plans had been dashed, Javi still had plans to rid your body of the stress from your workday.

The alternative, he found, was just as pleasant.

After the two of you ate on the floor, you both moved to the bed to attempt the next crossword. Four answers were written before he found you in his arms, talking—sharing.

He learned more about your job, your place, and how you’d had a pet when you were younger.

Then, somewhere between sharing about music, movies and how good you were at Monopoly, you were curled against him, softly sleeping.

He could have moved, but he deep down he hadn't wanted to. Enjoying feeling your body rising and falling, your room rotating the smell of room service and your perfume in equal amounts. 

He thought about your laugh from earlier when he told you about a horse trying to throw him off. The way his chest had flooded with warmth when you told him about how often you’d thought of him at work today. 

It’s perfect. All of this. You.

It makes the corners of his lips slide up as he hears you take a sleep-filled sigh against him, your arm remaining tightly looped around his waist. 

His eyes fall to the crossword—the one you’d attempted to complete—and was now close to falling off the foot of the bed. The previous days all filled in, block letters staring at him. Not even bothered in himself that he hadn’t managed to finish today. 

Instead, he just focused on how nice it was having you against him. How he'd wanted this, before he even knew what you looked like. Had imagined your body is shaped and curled against his, but it hadn't even been close to this.

This, like you, was more perfect than his mind could conjure. Your knee currently between his, fitting perfectly—just like you do in every other aspect. 

It's why he hasn't stopped running his fingers up and down your arm, surrendering to his position—not that he’s complaining. If anything, he never wants to move.

He had tried, initially. His brain worrying about what you'd do when you woke. Javi had attempted to rise up and tuck you in, but your hand simply clutched him closer, all unwilling to let him move. 

He thinks about leaving every ten minutes, as though revolving. Only settling when his nose is re-flooded with the scent of your shampoo and perfume, making it harder to stop thinking the second thought on rotation.

The one which had slammed into him at the airport—the one which had been born some weeks back, bubbling inside him ever since—began rising up in his chest again, in his throat…

He likes you. Really likes you. 

To the point, he’s not sure if he’ll be okay when he has to let you go. When he has to say goodbye and leave you at the airport departures. 

Simply wanting languid kisses under bed sheets, your body under him, his fingers brushing your cheeks as he feels your laugh against his palm.

He wants more than a handful of days. Allowing himself to think it, acknowledge it, now he knows you're real.

Swallowing, he glances down at you—taking in the bow of your lips, the way your lashes sit on your upper cheek, and he relents. Just for a moment.

Instead, he rests his chin on the top of your head, letting his eyes close as he continues to slide his fingers up and down your arm. 

He wasn’t meant to fall asleep. Javi had just meant to rest his eyes.  

But he wakes to darkness, a slither of light peering through the closed curtains, with you very much beside him still. Your eyes closed, head on his chest, your own rising and falling as gently as earlier. 

But the light had been on then.

A thought that hooks the edge of his lips, tugging it up. Because you would have needed to get up and turn it off, before climbing back into bed again. Moving under the duvet—likely whispering to him to do the same, because he too is now under it. 

He lifts it tentatively, seeing that he’s still fully clothed, spotting that when you switched off the light, you’d also changed from your work clothes into a satin top and pair of shorts.  

You’d wanted him here. 

Javi beams. Broader than he's allowed himself to let grace his face. One that quickly, almost immediately, blossoms into a grin. One he continued to wear as he closed his eyes, pulling you closer—finding you do so with ease as he settled back down. 

The next time he opens his eyes, he finds you struggling to cram in the few things you’d removed from your suitcase. The one you’d packed—like you were staying for a month. 

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he allows himself a moment—hearing the quiet, disgruntled grumbling coming from you as you push down on it as hard as you can. 

“Want a hand?”

“No, no,” you protested, wiping your arm over your forehead. “All good.” 

Nodding, he gets up to use your bathroom, back cracking as he does. After he's washed his hands, he splashes cold water on his face, staring at himself in the mirror—seeing the usual dark bags under his eyes, now appear fainter. 

In truth, he wasn’t sure when the last time was that he’d slept as well as he had done the past two nights. 

It niggling at him as turns the tap off, drying his hand, before he runs his fingers through his hair. Shelving the thought, the realisation, as he opens the door to be greeted with the same grumbles and sweet perfume.

One thing he does hope, is that your scent buries itself into his clothes, skin, and bones. Mainly, he hopes this isn't the only time he can see you, or be around you.

Something he thinks as he leans against the wall, folding his arms, trying not to laugh watching you give your case another few shoves. After several more quick and successive presses down, you look up at him, giving him the most wounded, puppy-like look. 

“Okay, please help me.” 

His knees groan as he gets down on them, pressing down on the suitcase lid—nodding to you to try the zip as it budges. The process continues, your fingers occasionally poking in the odd item that attempts to stick out—the heel of a shoe, the edge of the jean jacket you were in on the day he met you, and lace. 

“So, I was thinking….” 

Javi lifts his eyes, finding that yours are already on him. 

“Did you…. want to share a room, maybe? Like, for the next few nights—I totally understand if you don’t want—” 

“Baby,” he says, softly, full of please breath and assurance, as he leans back on his knees. “Are you sure?” 

Nodding, biting your lip, your fingers slide over him on the suitcase. “I mean… we already have been, right? And, honestly, I hated even leaving you yesterday. Honestly, I… I don’t want to lose any more time with you than I already have.” 

“Me too.”

It’s like an eclipse, the way you grin. Smothering over your worrying. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

Lifting your case for you from being flat, you take the handle, continuing to grin before you follow behind him as you leave. His hand reaches behind, taking your fingers as the two of you head to his.

Half of him, not wanting to let go, see if he can grab his things with one hand while the other stays connected with yours. But he lets go, for speed, quickness, as he collects the things he managed to unpack in the room he's barely been in—never mind slept in.

Something you must realise, an apology hitting the air. Shifting on the spot at the door as he darts around.

Then, it's apology after apology. Different versions of the same thing, explanations that weren't necessary, because he didn't mind.

Something he also says.

It continues in the elevator, down to the small reception desk. The one more cramped, if that was even possible, than the first day they arrived. Your whispered reasons as to why you owe him made him slowly smile. 

You didn’t even get to sleep in your bed, happened to be his favourite. Because if you took a breath to ask him what he'd choose, he’d always choose to sleep in the bed you were in.

“To make it up to you, let me buy the other nights. Work covered the two necessary for them, so it hasn’t cost—“

His hand slides over your cheek, face forced to look up at him, blemished with curiosity that relaxes into simmering disbelief. 

A look he now suspects is on your face plenty of times when the two of you talk. That disbelief, the one unsure how someone could make you smile, makes you easily relax. 

He knows because it’s something he thinks himself. He’s just not sure if his expression looks similar to yours. 

“Hermosa, stop apologising—“

“—I can’t ask you to. You already picked me up from the airport—” 

“Cariño, please—

“—And you paid for dinner the first night, and—“

“Baby.” 

That word does it.

It makes you pause and swallow. Eyes focusing on him. 

“Baby, listen to me. I’ve already spent upwards of triple digits falling for you, and I don't care. So, lemme pay for the hotel room so I can show you how far I’ve fallen.”

You're torn. He sees it immediately on your face from the way it ripples across your face. 

Some part of you all unwilling to let him. A part he hopes to kiss away as he presses another kiss to your temple, softer, hanging there a second longer until he pulls back. 

“I’ve got this, okay?” 

“Okay,” you whisper. “But, I’ll buy—“

He kisses you. 

Realising as he does, it’s the only way to silence you. Feeling you melt, then you smile, before your fingers come up along his neck, little touches, and then nails, before you pull back. 

“You should… pay for the room now,” you say, lips twitching, a smirk wishing to bloom. 

“That so?” 

Nodding, you bite your lower lip. “I know you saw the things I packed in my suitcase, Javi.” 

Tracing his lower lip with his thumb, he smirks, slowly—before nodding. 

Turning to face the desk, he presses the bell once, twice, thrice—all insistent as you snigger by his side. He’s about to press it again, almost shouting to call someone, when he feels you nudge him—moving closer, arm coming around his waist as he feels his cheeks warm as you stare up at him.  

Fuck, you’re beautiful. 

“I’m taking you out tonight, too. Just so you know.”

Narrowing your eyes, you give him a lopsided smile as you swallow. “Can I pay half?”

“You can argue with me about it. Yeah,” he says, kissing your forehead before hammering his palm on the bell all over again.

an: thank you for all the love on this, i can't even put into words how much i appreciate it and you. this chapter i was dreading, as it sets up so much for the next, but i hope it was worth it, as always xx

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier peña narcos #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javi pena #javier peña x you #narcos x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javi pena x reader #narcos javier x reader #narcos javier #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfiction #javier pena narcos #pedrostories #agent peña #javi peña #mm: late night texts #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena

[pascalsbby]

Little Bunny

Javier Peña x you

Summary: 2.1K Javier mistakes you for someone looking to make money. He doesn’t know that your dad is his boss - Or - Extremely frisky Javier gets bratty reader on her knees and takes what he wants <3

Warnings: 18+ mdni, SMUT, age gap, flirty and sweaty Javier, face fucking, he takes what he wants, dominate & aggressive, darkish!javier, pet names, praise kink, dirty talk <3

Based on this ask from @justlulu : Hey, I LOVE your dark content 🩷 I was wondering if you write for Javi Pena too, and also if you take requests?

I do take requests!! Thank you for your kind words. This is my first Javier post. Please comment and let me know what ya’ll think! 🤍

You wanted his huge hands to pull you up to his mouth, light you on fire and suck whatever he needed from you. You’d burn for him, one look in your direction and you were sure.

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *

The store’s bell rings as the door opens, letting in more of the unforgiving summer air. Along with it comes a broad figure, cast in the shadow from the awning. A quaint “buenas,” was directed towards the register as the fluorescent lights flickered, taking him in too. The artificial glow on his sweat-covered skin dropped down the collar of his shirt. It was a darker pink, unbuttoned and covered in his swelter. Leather jacket atop.

You knew what he was right away. In the way he walked, scanned the room before even stepping two feet inside of it. This town was full of them. You knew who he was a few moments after. He turns towards you, eyes hidden behind yellow aviators. They were one of three prominent features gracing his face, the others being his nose and neatly trimmed mustache. Each guided his presence with a dignified assurance, leaving an indelible mark on anyone fortunate enough to gaze upon his countenance.

In other words, he was fucking beautiful. And he was fucking delusional if he thought the Ray Bans weren’t going to set him apart from the general public. They were his staple and they screamed, “I’m probably a fucking DEA agent.”

You’d heard of him too, Javier. Or Peña, in the stories your dad told you. “You could never tell anyone these things mi vida, I tell them to you because I want you to be safe while we’re here.” You’d spent too many times looking at the pictures on his desk, the ones he had put in front of you stating, “puedes confiar en estos hombres si lo necesitas.”

“You can trust these men if you need to.” Is that so? Since when have you been able to trust any man? Especially ones who look like that in a pair of fitted blue jeans. Especially ones who take you from everything you know and move you to a different country in order to ‘make sure you’re protected’.

The store was mostly empty besides you- and now him. His presence was heavy, not easy to ignore. He looked too pretty- and he looked like your next game piece.

His cologne immediately filled the air and was followed by what an entire pack of cigarettes must smell like. You wanted his huge hands to pull you up to his mouth, light you on fire and suck whatever he needed from you. You’d burn for him, one look in your direction and you were sure.

Javier must have felt you eating him up and you blush, feigning casual interest in the snacks in front of you. But he smirks as his lips part, catching you starring. “No he visto a nadie tan hermosa como tú en mucho tiempo.” Fuck.

He was in front of you, having already looked you up and down as he walked towards you. What a dog.

“I’m sorry?”

“Ah,” he chuckled, looking around. “You speak English.”

“I do.” At least you used to, before he spoke to you and you had to crane your neck upwards to meet his eyes. He had taken his sunglasses off at some point, you were too enamored by his waist to see much else.

“I said, ‘I haven’t seen anyone so beautiful in so long.’”

He swiped his thick thumb across his pouting lips while he waited for your response. That usually works, huh?

It did.

He was flirting with his bosses daughter. He had absolutely no idea who you were, where you were going after this. The power that you yielded, simply from the last name you held. You quietly laughed. He must think you’re full of information, by how hard he’s trying. Why wouldn’t you want to be full of him? He was trying to get something from you.

His demeanor shifted as he waited for a response. Not towards embarrassment, he doesn’t seem the type. More so towards, ‘Fuck. Maybe I came on a little too strong.”

You open your mouth, contemplating what to say next as your eyes return to his. A spark of something…lust? Recognition? No.

His gaze flickers before he turns his attention back to the snacks. He knows that this is the most important part of the conversation.

“I was thinking the same when I saw you walk through that door.” You surprised him. He sat down the crumpled bag and looked back at you.

“Is that so?” He started, but you interrupted, not wanting him to keep the conversation going and figure who you were, how young you were, that you weren’t worth a shit when it came to flirting. That you weren’t someone who couldn’t be an informant.

“Can I have one of those?” You pointed towards his crotch, meaning his back pocket where his tattered box of cigarettes sat against his ass. You watched as his smile spread, laughing beneath the deep breath he takes as he pulls them out and smacks them flat against his wide palm. He picks one and hands it to you.

He lowers his voice as he steps even closer. “You can have whatever you want, conejita. Let’s take this outside.”

You looked down at his fingers and imagined what they were capable of, how long they were. All of the spots inside of you that they could caress. You took the cigarette and looked into him.

“Let’s.”

You imagined Javier liked to keep his outside of work activities on the low. His dirty little secrets were easier to keep when he hid them behind the facade of work. Of doing good for the world. They also happened to do well with his cock. You wondered if he paid them, too.

Of course he does. He’s a gentleman. ‘Someone to rely on’.

You put it between your lips as he dug in his other pocket for his lighter. “How can you fit anything in those? Let alone find anything.”

“Hey, these jeans don’t look good on just anybody, baby.”

Baby.

You huff and he falls back, scrunching his eyebrows towards the setting sun as he lights his own cigarette, first. What a gentleman. The fine lines of his face soften after he takes a long hit.

His hands ghost your face as the click of the lighter ignites and the fire burns closely to your face.

“What’s your name, anyways?” You ask, pulling in the burn.

“Peña.”

“Do you have a first name? Or is the last one just cooler?” He smirks.

Both of you sat in silence for a moment, looking around the street at the children playing.

“S’not too safe for you out here right now.”

“Why’s that?”

“Mierda, eres difícil, ¿no? Just trust me.” He huffed out a laugh.

So you did. There were eyes everywhere, if need be. You said what he had been pining for the entire time.

“So take me home then, Peña.”

He wasted no time walking you to where he was staying, the warmth of his palm not leaving your lower back until you made it to his front door. He had been trying to get small things out of you during the stroll. Where were you from? Why were you visiting? You didn’t give him much and you could tell it was bothering him. Every once in a while he would look down at you, his breath falling right into the ticklish spot on your ear. You wanted him.

It didn’t come as a surprise to either of you when he guided you in the door, shut it quickly and then grabbed the back of your head, moving his lips against yours.

He was soft and gentle, but his grip in your hair was stern- he’d seen the world, felt it. Watched it bleed, be unmerciful. He kissed you on your lips, then once on your cheek as an apology for not being able to contain himself. He kissed between your collar bones, lovingly, moving down to your breasts.

“How old are you again?”

“20’s. Old enough.” You were breathless. His lips were kissing at your sweat.

“Mhmm,” he moans against your skin.

“Gonna have to fuck it out of you, aren’t I?”

“I don’t give away information for free, Peña.”

“Get on the bed mi conejita.” He growled. For his line of work, he wasn’t very patient.

It was dark in his room, and the entirety of it smelled of him. You wanted to sink into his sheets and cover yourself in him. You made your way to the bed in the right corner of the room, the only light from the orange streetlights, barely on from the newly descending darkness.

He had been a flirt since the moment he opened his mouth, but he saved himself for the darkness. You prop yourself up, sitting at the middle edge of his bed with your feet on the ground, waiting for instruction. He seems like he’s the type who wants to be in charge.

His shirt is off quickly, and the amber light hugs the curves of his chest, his hips. His lips touch exactly what he wants them to, nothing more. You wanted them to wrap around you like they had his cigarette, before.

His nose kisses you, too. He kisses like he never will again. And he doesn’t, not really. Not many people have touched his lips, as compared to the rest of him.

He’s an angry man, it runs through his veins, and you can feel it in his force. But he wants so badly to be calm, still, soft, in the way he caresses you. How can you not be angry at the world when you’ve seen what he has?

The thing is, you have. Not to his extent, surely. But you’d seen a lot pass your dads desk.

“Now tell me, cariño, what do you need to give me what I want?” You scoffed as he pulled away, removing his arms from either side of you on his bed.

“Tell me your first name and then let me suck your cock.”

Who was winning at this game?

You pushed him forwards and made enough space in front of him for your body, as you slid down to your knees, hitting the hollow wood harder than anticipating as you unbuckle his belt. You go ahead and take it all the way off, kissing his stomach as you fidget with his zipper. His hair peaks out over the top of the layers as you impatiently pull his jeans lower.

He’s so hard that it’s making it difficult to take them off, cock pressing against the tight denim. He gasps softly as your hand reaches him. You pull his already showing head out of his boxers, licking your lips before wetting his tip and licking up anything he was already willing to give you.

“Javier,” He gasps his own name.

“Mmm,” you moan as you hold it in your hands. It’s heavy, long. His balls are heavier as you grasp them, only imagining the sound they’ll make slapping against your cunt.

You’d teased him enough.

“Javier,” you were whining now. He groaned at his name on your tongue, mixing with his precum.

“Hush and open your throat.”

You pushed your wet tongue into the bottom of your mouth, opening your lips wider in attempt to take him easily. But this wasn’t going to be easy, considering the size of him.

You let the saliva pool in your mouth and he lifts an eyebrow, asking for permission. You look up at him and nod.

Immediately his hand are in your hair, moving them around as he finds the right grip to fuck himself into your mouth.

“Too big baby? I thought you were a big girl? Old enough? That’s so cute, it’s not even all the way in. Let’s see if you can do it, hmm?” He lifts his head and it falls backwards as he takes your throat completely, your neck and body jumping at the intrusion. You find yourself lifting your hands to his hips, trying to find anything to hold onto as he fucks himself down your tongue and into the back of your mouth.

“So pretty, little bunny.” Finally revealing the nickname he gave you. “But I’m not finished yet.” You sputter around him, opening your throat even wider.

Your knees are carrying a dull ache, and you almost wish you hadn’t asked to suck him off. You remove yourself from him and attempt to catch your breath.

He continues carving out the shape of his cock in your throat and you relax, letting his angry head hit the back of your neck.

His voice is so deep, vibrating even, but his whimpers aren’t as they slip past his lips. He’s ruthless in his attempt.

“All done, sweet thing?” He pulls himself from your throat and looks at the connecting spit.

“I’m not. If this mouth isn’t gonna tell me what I want to hear than I might as well fill it as I see fit, yes?”

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *

Masterlist

Ya’ll, I saw this ask, thought about Javier smoking, and then this happened within 45 minutes…

#javier peña #pedro pascal #javier pena x you #narcos #dark!javier #smut #javier pena smut #javier pena x y/n #javier pena #javier pena fic #joel miller #tlou #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x y/n #agent whiskey #female reader #pascalsbby

[fanfictilltheend]

Pedro claims he injured his arm by falling.

#Pedro #Pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #2024 golden globes #broken arm #injury #news #pop culture #poll #vote #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #Pedro pascal x you #Dave York #Joel miller #javier peña #javi gutierrez #agent whiskey #marcus pike #joel miller x you #the last of us #din djarin #golden globes

[lionlena]

☆MASTERLIST☆

Pedro Pascal

One Shot:

♡A kitchen disaster

♡Just let it go…

♡New job, new problems...

♡Just breathe

Series:

♡His Curls - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (completed)

♡Hate run, love speed - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (in progress)

♡We don’t love each other - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7 - Final (completed)

Request:

♡A perfect day for a perfect girl (It's your birthday and Pedro makes you feel loved and special all day)

Headcanon:

♡What sleeping position do they most like when you are with them? (Pedro Pascal characters)💤

♡How will they react to your makeup? (Pedro Pascal and his characters) 👁️👄💅

♡Headcanon: How do they behave when you have a migraine? (Pedro Pascal characters)🩹😴   (+ Dave and Marcus)

♡Headcanon: How will they react if you tell them about CDD? (Pedro Pascal characters) 👰💔😱🤕  

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

♡Headcanon: How do they cook for you? (Pedro Pascal characters) 🥕🧑‍🍳🍓

Joel Miller

One Shot:

♡This is just a nightmare… (The Last of Us ff/ Joel/Ellie)

♡Strong for both of us

♡Trouble with ex

♡Dyeing your hair…

Series:

♡Unforgivable mistake, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7 Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12 (in progress)

♡I can't be everywhere (No outbreak!) Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4... (in progress)

Request:

♡You need a better place (Joel loving a girl with epilepsy)

♡Blue dress (Joel Miller x plus size!reader)

Headcanon:

♡When Joel goes limp… (JoelMillerxf!reader)🤷🍆🩹

Javier Peña

One Shot:

♡I’ll protect you… (bc you’re mine)

♡I’ll hurt you… ( bc you’re mine )

♡I’ll leave you (bc youre not mine)

♡I'll stay with you... ( bc I love you)

♡You’re hot…

♡A girl from the street

Series:

♡Dancing With Your Ghost - Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Epilogue (completed)

♡Too many shadows behind you - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3,  Part 4, Part 5 (in progress)

Headcanon:

♡Nicotine (JavierPeña and You)

Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels)

Series:

♡Dynasty - Part 1, Part 2, (in progress)

One Shot:

♡Mean (JackDanielsxf!reader)

Javi Gutierrez

One Shot:

♡Too hot

Frankie Morales

One Shot:

♡Lost cat

Marcus Pike

One Shot: 

♡"7.44 am"

Oberyn Martell

Series:

♡Red Viper and Fox - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (in progress, soon english version)

One Shot:

♡♕Queen's Milk

♡I Hold You

♡Remember me… (ANGST!)

The Old Guard (movie)

One Shot: 

♡ Amira

♡ It hurts like hell    

#masterlist #my fanfiction #my wriring #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #javier pena x reader #joel miller #narcos #the last of us #the game of thrones #oberyn martell #the old guard #Immortal husbands #joe and nicky #joel and ellie #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller and you #tlou fic #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal characters #agent peña #agent whiskey #agent whiskey fanfiction #jack daniels fanfiction #jack daniels x reader #kingsman the golden circle #javi gutierrez #javi g x reader

[creedslove]

NEW MASTERLIST ✨

• Masterlist #1 HERE

Since I've reached 100 links in my first Masterlist, I decided to create this one which has other links that can take you to each Pedro boy individual MASTERLIST, containing the series, one shots and drabbles written for these characters.

The link for the headcanon masterlist will be displayed at the end of this post 💞

AGENT WHISKEY 🥃

• HERE

DAVE YORK 🔪

• HERE

JAVIER PEÑA 🚬

• HERE

JOEL MILLER 🍄

• HERE

MARCUS PIKE 🎨

• HERE

HEADCANONS MASTERLIST ✨

• Headcanon Masterlist ONE

• Headcanon Masterlist TWO

• Headcanon Masterlist THREE

DRABBLE MASTERLIST ✨

• Drabble Masterlist HERE

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal masterlist #pedro boys #agent whiskey #dave york #joel miller #javier peña #marcus pike

[cherry-holmes]

Glimpse of a life with Javier Peña (series)

Chapter 3

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: You found yourself in a complicated situation, but thankfully Javi is there for you.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Previous chapter

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

Word count: +3.5 k

Warnings: Swearing. Angst and comfort. Reader is attacked. SMUT. Male masturbation. Mention of P in V sex. Mention of fingering. Mention of oral sex (f receiving). Mention of hair pulling. Cumming inside implied.

A/N: Hi! Here's the third one! Hope you like it!

I'm taking requests!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••Diego was quite a character. His jokes weren't as funny as Javier's, and he wasn't as enchanting, but, you know, he had his own charm. Kind of.

He was a military man, designated by the Colombian government to the DEA's search block as reinforcement. You had seen him with Javier and Murphy several times, working closely with them, going on raids, and capturing a couple of Escobar's sicarios.

He had a certain maturity about him, which was expected given his background, but there was also an air of smugness that occasionally crept through. Perhaps it was his confidence in his military training or the nature of the dangerous work he was involved in. Either way, it was clear that Diego was a capable and intelligent individual.

As you continued talking, you began to appreciate the depth of Diego's knowledge about the operations and the challenges faced by the DEA in their pursuit of Escobar. However, you also noticed that he was a straightforward and serious man. When you attempted to inject humor into the conversation, he either didn't catch it or chose to ignore it.

You couldn't help but compare your conversations with Diego to the ones you had with Javier. You missed Javier's sense of humor and the feeling that he genuinely listened and cared about what you were saying. In contrast, Diego appeared more focused on showcasing his job and emphasizing his importance in the Cartel's pursuit, as if he were trying to impress you. He rarely asked anything meaningful about you beyond work-related topics.

Despite Diego's competence and the insights he shared about DEA operations, it felt like something was missing in your interactions. You valued genuine connections and meaningful conversations, and it seemed that Diego's agenda was primarily centered around work. The stark contrast to your rapport with Javier left you with a sense of longing for the easy camaraderie you once shared.

Speaking of Javier, it seems like he's been avoiding you. You've caught him turning away when he spots you in the office kitchen, and even Diego mentioned that Peña appears to be taking on extra responsibilities during the raids, almost as if he's trying to keep his distance. You tried to ignore these facts, but your brain wasn't cooperating. Javier Peña lingered on your thoughts all the time.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was Saturday night, and you had just finished your pending work early. You had spent the day deciding whether or not to accept your friends' invitation for a drink at the bar to celebrate Marta's birthday. You weren't used to going to bars and drinking at night, especially when you were living alone in a foreign and dangerous country as it was Colombia in those times. But you did love dancing, and you were in the mood for a fun night with your friends.

You gathered your things, getting ready to go to Marta's office and let her know that you were joining them. However, as you were doing so, Diego knocked on your door.

"Hey, are you heading home?" he asked, leaning in your doorway.

"No, actually," you began, "It's Martha's birthday, and some people from her department are going for a drink." You hesitated and then added, "Would you like to come?" You asked him out of politeness, as he didn't seem like the type to enjoy that kind of environment. He could always decline, of course.

Diego shrugged. "Why not?" He didn't look convinced about it but didn't say anything more.

You weren't convinced either. He was nice, but you didn't feel like you had clicked with him. He was a very different person from you. However, you thought that at least that night, you wouldn't need to look for someone to dance with.

"Let's go, then," you finally said.

As you arrived at the bar, there were a lot more people from work than you had expected. You spotted your friends at the back and joined them.

After greeting your friends, you searched for an available chair. As your eyes roamed the table, you froze when your gaze crossed Javier's. He had just set his glass down on the table, and he looked equally surprised to see you there. He stared at you for a few more seconds before shifting his gaze to a point behind you, and then to Murphy. When you felt Diego's hand on your back, you knew exactly why.

The night began, and your friends engaged in lively conversations and laughter about various topics. However, you couldn't fully concentrate on the festivities. You kept locking eyes with Javier, who didn't seem to be enjoying the evening. According to what you overheard from Murphy, he had been somewhat coerced into attending.

As the night wore on, almost all of your friends paired up for dancing, including Steve Murphy, who had brought his lovely wife, Connie, to the dinner. However, your date seemed more interested in talking to a couple of his colleagues about his merits and exploits in the field than taking you out to dance. Diego had been drinking more than anyone else, even surpassing Javier, and now he was talking loudly and intensely. You felt uncomfortable and, honestly, embarrassed.

Even Javier, who wasn't dancing, had someone to converse with. It was Celia, a secretary with big blue eyes and long dark hair. There was a moment when she was asking the waitress for another drink that Javier looked at you with a peculiar expression. It was evident that he wasn't enjoying his company either. You offered a small smile but didn't attempt to interrupt their conversation. Celia seemed determined to conquer Javier that night.

After finishing your second margarita, you stood up and excused yourself to use the ladies' room. Javier gave a nod of acknowledgment, while Celia shot you a sharp look for interrupting her moment with her target. Diego, on the other hand, continued talking, seemingly oblivious to your departure.

You washed your hands, and while looking at your reflection in the mirror, you decided that you wanted to go home and get some sleep. You had made up your mind to approach Diego and ask him to take you home. Additionally, on Monday, when you returned to the office, you planned to thank Diego for his considerate attention but let him know that you weren't interested anymore. It was clear to you that this evening was not turning out as you had hoped.

But, to your unpleasant surprise, as you walked out of the bathroom, you felt a grip on your arm. Looking up, you saw Diego's drunken, angry eyes fixed on you. You froze in that moment and let him drag you through the sea of dancing bodies to the parking lot.

The cold air outside was a stark contrast to the hot and lively atmosphere inside, leaving you feeling vulnerable. You didn't know what was happening.

"Let me go!" You squealed, attempting to break free from his grasp. "What the hell is wrong with you?" you added as he finally released you, and he cornered you near his car.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" he asked, his words slurred from the alcohol.

"What? No... What are you talking about?"

Before you knew it, his hands were on either side of your head, trapping you between his body and his car, his rancid breath in your face. You instinctively shrank back, scared and confused about what was happening.

"You think I didn't see how you and that motherfucker of Peña were looking at each other?" he said, his tone furious. You had no idea where this sudden aggressive behavior was coming from. You had no idea what he was talking about. You had only exchanged a few words with Javier, and there was absolutely nothing inappropriate about it.

"Diego, you're completely mistaken," you replied, your voice quivering but determined. "There's nothing between me and Javier. We're just colleagues, nothing more."

Diego's eyes bore into yours, and for a moment, you feared he might not believe you. But then, his anger seemed to escalate, and he slammed his hand against the car window next to your face. You let out a startled scream.

"Do not fuckin' lie to me!" he shouted, his voice filled with rage. "You don't think I know about your little affair with him?"

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you were completely taken aback. "What? What affair?" you asked, your voice trembling.

Diego let out a bitter, humorless laugh. "Oh, don't play innocent," he sneered. "Don't act like a saint! I know that Javier fucked you for two weeks until he got bored."

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and anger. "Pardon me? We didn't, and if we did it's none of your damn business," you retorted, your voice firm. "Now let me go. I wanna go home."

"Oh, of course you're gonna go home," he said as he opened the door of his car and tried to force you to get in, "You're going home with me."

"Are you crazy? You're hurting me," you squealed, using all or you using all your strength to put up resistance, but he was much stronger than you. "No! Let me go!"

"You think you can play a teasing bitch and get away with that with me?" He groaned and you felt desperation creasing in you. "Get in the fucking car, NOW!"

You didn't know how you managed to turn around and connect your knee with his crotch, successfully freeing yourself and sprinting out of his reach. The adrenaline was surging through your veins as you made a desperate escape.

You were prepared to fight for your life, but as soon as you reached the outskirts of the parking area, you spotted Javier approaching. Relief washed over you, and you rushed toward him, not even minding the way your fists clenched his shirt as you looked at him with an imploring expression.

Javier gently took you by the arms, his eyes carefully studying your beautiful yet terrified features as he tried to make sense of your quivering mumbles. But a drunken and furious voice called your name from behind, sending a shiver down your spine. What happened next unfolded so quickly that you couldn't comprehend how things had escalated so fast.

Javier swiftly positioned you so that you were as far behind his body as possible. When you turned toward Diego, you couldn't help but gasp in surprise as you found yourself staring at the barrel of a gun pointed at you. In response, Javier, the trained agent he was, smoothly drew his own firearm from his back and aimed it at Diego. Your hands clung to Javier's arm, your fear palpable.

"Lower that weapon, Ibarra," Javier's voice was firm and composed, laced with an unmistakable warning. "Don't make a choice you'll regret, one that will ruin your life and your career."

Diego laughed sharply but lowered his gun. You realized he had drawn his weapon to threaten you, not expecting Javier's sudden intervention. You shuddered at the thought of what might have occurred had Javier not appeared when he did.

He stumbled back to his car and hastily departed the parking lot, the tires screeching on the pavement as the engine roared away. Javier, having holstered his gun, turned his attention back to you.

"You're shaking," he observed, removing his black leather jacket and draping it over your shoulders. "Are you okay? What happened?" His tone was filled with concern, but then he lowered his voice, sounding almost dangerous as he inquired, "Did he hurt you?"

You shook your head, unable to look at his face as you were still trying to process everything that had just happened. In the days you and Diego were talking, he had never shown any signs of aggression. It had taken you completely by surprise.

"Thank you, Javier, I..." you began, but a crack in your voice made you stop. However, you managed to swallow the lump that had formed in your throat and composed yourself. "I'm going to go home now. Thank you so much, really."

You were about to take his jacket off, but he gently placed his warm hands on top of your cold ones to prevent you from removing the fabric.

"Please, allow me to take you home," he said. "It's late, and you're still in shock."

"I'm fine," you responded, trying to catch your breath, which seemed to have escaped from your lungs. But you couldn't hold back the tears any longer; they rolled down your cheeks.

"Hey, it's okay now" Javier didn't know what to do. Should he hug you? His concern was evident as he gently touched your arm, offering support and comfort. "Take your time," he said softly, his voice laced with genuine care.

You nodded, appreciating his understanding. "I... I didn't expect any of this," you managed to say, still shaken by the recent events.

He gave you a reassuring smile. "I know. It wasn't your fault," he assured you. "C'mon, it seems like it's starting to drizzle."

"You don't have to worry about me, Javier," you began. "I really, really appreciate what you did for me, but I can take it from here. I'm gonna call a taxi."

"I know you're mad at me because I was a dick to you," he responded, "I'm sorry, okay?" he said, sounding a bit annoyed, but sincerity shone in his dark-brown puppy eyes. "I was rude to you, and I'm ashamed of that. Now, please, I can't let you walk home alone at night."

Javier couldn't believe that you actually looked down the dark, empty street to consider his offer, but he was patient. Then, you turned back to him, your teary eyes captivating him.

"Fine. Thanks," you said, and he guided you to his truck. Javier reached for the handle before you and opened the door for you, and you got in.

As you settled into the truck's passenger seat, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. Fear and relief still coursed through your veins. Javier closed the door gently and walked around to the driver's side, getting in and starting the engine.

The sound of raindrops hitting the roof filled the cab as you both sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the recent events hanging in the air. You stole a glance at Javier, who kept his eyes on the road, his face reflecting a sense of responsibility and concern.

With a sigh, you finally broke the silence. "Javier, I appreciate what you're doing. I feel like I owe a big one."

He glanced at you briefly, his expression softening, his grip on the steering wheel relaxing slightly. "You owe me nothing, bonita," he said and you felt butterflies fluttering in your stomach, "I'm just glad you're safe."

He asked you where do you live and you gave him directions. After a couple of more minutes in silence, he talked again, "I really mean it, I'm sorry for treating you like that the other day." He stopped on a red light, and turned his face to looked at you, "You must know that I'm not an ass-hole... all the time," he added in a playful manner that actually made you smirk.

You watched the city pass by through the window, lost in thought. Finally, you couldn't help but ask the question that had been on your mind.

"Why do you care so much about what do I think about you?" you inquired, curiosity lacing your voice.

He get a bit nervous, but made his best to play it cool. He shrugged as if it was nothing. "I like you... I mean, as a friend." He clear his throat, and tried not to met your gaze, still very concentrated on the road. "Is it hard to believe?" He added.

"Well, you have quite a reputation, agent Peña," you replied.

"Do I?" He responded, still playing along. Javier was very aware of his reputation as a playboy and a heartthrob. He didn't care about that, until he met you. The thought brought a genuine smile to his face as he navigated the wet streets. He glanced at you briefly, his expression serious. "I don't know, to be honest," he admitted. "Maybe it's because you're different, and I didn't want to ruin what we had. I know I can be an ass sometimes, but that's not all there is to me."

You studied him for a moment, seeing a vulnerability in his eyes that you hadn't noticed before. "I appreciate you apologizing," you said sincerely.

When you arrived home, the rain had settled, but the air was cooler than earlier. "Thank you so much again, Javier," you said, and he shook his head gently.

"It's nothing," he answered. "If you allow me to recommend something, you should report him to Messina," he stated.

"I don't want problems..." you began, but he adjusted himself in his seat to leaned in closer, his expression becoming more earnest.

"I understand not wanting problems, but what happened tonight wasn't okay. Diego crossed a line, and he shouldn't get away with it. Reporting him is the right thing to do, I'll back you up."

You considered his words, knowing he was right. "I'll think about it," you finally replied.

"That's all I'm asking," Javier said, his concern for your safety evident in his eyes. "Does he know where you live?" You nodded, now concerned to remember that fact.

Javier leaned forward to reach the glove compartment. You could feel the warmth of his hands on your knee, but he didn't touch you. He took out a notepad and a pen to write his name and landline number, then handed it to you. "If you ever feel insecure or even if he appears right here, don't hesitate to call me. Day or night."

You accepted the paper with a grateful smile, touched by Javier's genuine concern for your safety. "Thank you, Javier. I hope I won't have to use it, but it's good to know you're there."

He nodded, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Take care, okay? And don't worry about Messina. She'll have your back."

With a final wave, you stepped out of the truck, and Javier waited until you safely entered your building before driving away. As you climbed the stairs to your apartment, you couldn't help but reflect on the unexpected turn of events that had brought you closer to Javier Peña again, a man with a reputation that didn't quite match the caring and protective side you had seen tonight.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It wasn't the first time Javier lay on his bed and couldn't stop thinking about you. It wasn't the first time his wandering hands slid down his body and got lost inside his boxers, neither.

He just couldn't stop thinking about the shape of your lips and the way every single dress that you ware suits you so fine every time.

Maybe it was wrong to masturbate thinking of you, but he couldn't help get hard when his mind drive itself to that kind of thoughts.

Javier cursed as he reached for his nightstand and took out the bottle of lube he kept with his condoms. He applied it on his hand and covered his already hard cock, massaging up and down, as his mind played he most sensual scenes about you.

Oh, the things he would do to you. Javier would navigate your body, placing wet kisses all over you until he stopped on your sweet pussy and start licking your vulva and sucking on your clit. He would have you screaming his name. «Javi, Javi...», he would drag you to the edge, begging to cum on his mouth. Javier would use one, two, even three of his thick fingers to fuck you as you release your sweet honey on his tongue. Then, you will beg him to have his cock ball deep into your cunt.

Javier would like to have you on your fours, your nice ass up just for him as he fingering you again to keep your pussy dripping, soaking wet for him.

Then, he would give you want you deserve for being such a good girl for him. He would grab your hair between his fingers and pull it while his cock spread your inner walls. Your eyes rolling back, your breasts bouncing with every thrust as he whisper the filthiest things to your ears.

«You're such a nice girl, taking my dick so fuckin' well»

«Your pussy feel so good clenching around my cock»

«I'm gonna fill you with my cum, baby, te voy a marcar como mía. Eres mía.»

And you will cry out his name, over and over again until you come all over his cock. Your little pussy dripping his semen and your clit throbbing.

But he won't let you rest. No, he won't have enough of you. He would make you cum at least two more times, different positions, same pleasure.

«Just like that, Javi» you would cry, words fill with ecstasy. «¡No pares, Javi! Soy toda tuya.»

Then you would sleep on his chest, your delicate arms around his torso as he brush your hair with his fingers until he fall asleep too.

Javier masturbate with that thought until he came over his belly, whispering your name to the cold air.

NEXT CHAPTER

#pedro pascal #fanfic #pedro pascal x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña smut #javier peña fluff #javier peña #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña fic #javier peña x y/n #javier pena smut #pedro pascal smut #smut #agent pena smut #agent peña #Agente Peña #narcos

[loslentesdepedrito]

I'm Your Wife- Chapter Two

Bottom left gif by: @binary--sun , bottom right gif by: @interstellarflare

Pairing: Jack Daniels ‘Agent Whiskey’x Spanish-speaking f!reader and Javier Peña x Spanish-speaking f!reader (Spanish translations are provided.)

Previous Chapter: I'm Your Wife- Chapter One

Next Chapter: I'm Your Wife- Chapter Three

Word count: 5.1k+

Chapter summary: Nine years later, unexpectedly, Jack hears from you. 

Rating: 18+ no explicit content but I'd rather not have minors read these types of subjects. Warning contains spoilers, but please read if you'd like!!! They are below the cut, but if you don't want to read them, the story starts after the Whiskey bottles.

Warnings: Angst, language used by the characters is harsh and contains strong emotions, mentions of cheating, pregnancy, divorce, and childhood disease. (I hope I didn’t forget anything, it’s been years since I wrote this.)

A/N: I want to express my heartfelt gratitude to everyone for the overwhelming support on Chapter One! I didn't have much time to work on the graphic for this chapter, so it took me a while to upload it. I have ADHD, and it's currently unmedicated, so that's also a factor. I find that I work best when the house is quiet, but with children around, getting them to sleep can be quite hard, haha! Again, I wrote this years ago, so I apologize for any and all mistakes because if I read this over, I’ll overthink and not post. So, thank you for your understanding, and I hope you enjoy the story!

As Jack's footsteps carry him back to his apartment from the Kingsmen agency, his mind is consumed by the weight of his day's work. An hour before he intended to go home, he found himself inexplicably overwhelmed by a sudden urge to rush to his apartment. It wasn't a foreboding feeling, but rather a strong sense that something good was on awaiting him. If anyone happened to catch a glimpse of Jack's somewhat clumsy dash out of his office, barely avoiding a slip on the freshly mopped floor- no one commented.

Now, in the lobby, with each step closer to his sanctuary, a glimmer of anticipation flickers within him, a faint hope that there might be a respite from the pain that has plagued his heart for years.

Reaching his mailbox, he pauses, his hand steady as he retrieves the day's mail. Among the advertisements, his eyes catch sight of a familiar return address adorned with the emblem of the firm that handled the painful dissolution of his marriage. The sight sends a jolt through his veins, instantly sharpening his senses. He feels a surge of joy and curiosity that threatens to overpower his cool demeanor. This, this is what I’ve been waiting for, he thinks.

With the letter clutched tightly in his hand, Jack climbs the staircase, his heavy and rushed footsteps echoing through the empty building stairway. As he reaches the sixth floor, he pauses for a moment, catching his breath and steadying his racing heart. Fuckin’ hell, I’m really starting to get old. 

His apartment building's signature aroma, a mix of aged wood and Reed Diffusers, drifts through the air and the illuminated corridor, offering a soothing moment. With renewed determination, he strides towards his apartment, the key ready in his trembling hand, eager to discover the message held within the white envelope.

Taking the letter inside, he fumbles to close the door behind him, his focus solely on the contents of the envelope. It feels like an eternity as he tears it open, the sound of the paper ripping echoing through the room. Throwing away the torn envelope, his hat, his phone, and his keys on the coffee with disregard, his gaze locks onto the words that lay before him, ink etched upon the pristine white surface.

With each sentence, the gravity of the situation becomes clearer, the weight of the words pressing against his chest. His heart beats faster, his breath growing shallow. The letter, written in a professional tone, contains the invitation he had never anticipated but always hoped for. She wants to meet me. The delicacy and urgency of the matter are subtly emphasized, practically begging Jack to meet you.

Jack's eyes scan the lines, his mind working swiftly to decipher the unspoken pleas hidden within the formal language. He can almost hear your voice, strained and vulnerable, begging for a chance to talk. 

The letter extends an offer of legal representation, a reminder that the cold machinery of the law can mediate their meeting. But Jack's resolve is unwavering. He wants this to be personal, as personal as it can get. I can finally clear everything up with her. Tell her what I never said. The opportunity to talk face to face with you without the barrier of attorneys fills him with a mixture of hope and anxiety, like a tightly wound spring ready to unfurl.

A surge of emotions floods his being, the years of longing and unanswered questions vying for attention. He clings to the flickering flame of possibility, for within this letter lies the chance to reclaim what was lost, to confront the lingering ghosts of his past, and maybe, just maybe, you could love him once more. Throughout the past nine years, when Jack basically pushed you out of his life, he lived in constant regret. He promised himself if he ever got a second chance with you, he would take it and do everything in his power to ensure you never felt the same pain as you did during your marriage.

Jack can't help but feel a glimmer of optimism as he sets the letter down. The future is uncertain, but the mere fact that you have chosen to reach out stirs hope deep within him. It's a fragile hope, like a flickering flame in the darkness, but it burns nonetheless.

As the weight of the letter lingers in Jack's hands, his gaze drifts toward his phone. Resting on the table beside the torn envelope lay a familiar device—Jack's unchanged phone, a device that held precious moments. He had never upgraded it because it carried countless memories. It was the very phone into which you had entered your number when you first met. It was the same phone that had kept him up on calls until the sun peeked over the horizon, the same phone that had exchanged texts with you at all hours of the day. It was the very phone where you introduced him to the world of sexting, etching those intimate moments into his memory. Jack found himself continually revisiting these cherished memories, and he never changed his phone number. Perhaps, in the recesses of his hopeful heart, he believed you might someday reach out. Even though the years following the divorce had passed without your contact, he couldn't bring himself to give up hope.

He reaches out for his phone and picks it up, his fingers gliding over the familiar touchscreen. With a deep breath, he dials the number to the firm, his heart pounding in sync with each number pressed. 

The sound of the dial tone echoes in his ear, and before the receptionist has a chance to utter a greeting, Jack's voice resonates with urgency, cutting through the silence, "Good evenin’. This is Jack Daniels. I'm callin' for Mr. Raul Santos."

The receptionist, taken aback by his directness, responds with a polite tone, "Good evening, sir. Please hold while I transfer you." The hold music fills the air, a symphony of anticipation mingled with the echo of distant voices. Jack's mind races; moments feel like hours while he rehearses over and over what he will say.

Finally, the ringing ceases and is replaced by a voice on the other end. It's Raul, the person who holds the power to give Jack his biggest wish. Jack wastes no time, the words escaping his lips before doubt can creep in, "Raul, it's Jack. When can I meet with her?" His voice carries a blend of longing and urgency.

"Jack, can you meet tomorrow at St. Andrew's Hospital at 10 AM?" The words hang in the air, filled with anticipation, as Jack's breath catches in his throat.

Why the hospital? Jack's mind questions. Summoning his resolve, Jack finds his voice and responds, "I'll be there."

"Perfect," Raul replies, his voice a lifeline in the abyss of uncertainty. "We'll be waiting for you on the tenth floor of the East Tower. When you sign in on the first floor, tell them you're meeting Dr. Navarro." Jack nods to himself, memorizing all the instructions as if his life depends on it. 

Jack's emotions simmer beneath the surface as the call comes to an end, a torrent of hope, nervousness, and a glint of renewed longing. The image of St. Andrew's Hospital burns in his mind, a symbol of new beginnings and the coming together of their separate lives.

With apprehension and excitement, Jack sets the phone down, his hands trembling ever so slightly. Tomorrow assures a reunion, a chance for Jack to apologize for all of the suffering he has caused you. It is a moment he has dreamed of, yearned for, an opportunity to correct all his errors.

As he gazes into the distance, the fading daylight casting long shadows across his tired face, Jack finds solace in the glimmer of hope that glows in his heart. The road ahead may be filled with uncertainty, but at this moment, he dares to believe that the fragments of their broken bond may find a way to heal.

Despite his initial doubts, sleep had managed to find its way to Jack, offering him a few hours of rest. When he wakes, a surge of excitement courses through his veins, fueled by the knowledge that he will soon be reunited with you. The morning light filters through the window, casting gentle rays of warmth upon his face; as he rises with a renewed sense of purpose.

Determined to make a good impression, Jack steps into the shower, the hot water cascading over his body, washing away the traces of sleep and leaving him feeling refreshed. He carefully removes the stubble with each stroke of the razor against his skin, his fingertips tracing the sharp contours of his tanned face, ensuring a clean and polished look. The mustache, once untamed, is now meticulously trimmed, framing his pink lips.

Moving to his closet, Jack sifts through his collection of clothes; a rain of fabric and colors fall on his full-sized bed. He changes in and out of various combinations, looking for the perfect outfit. His fingers glide over the texture of his dress shirts, searching for the best one. Jack eventually settles on a deep blue dress shirt, a charcoal gray blazer, tailored pants that hug his frame just right, and a tie with subtle patterns.

Next, Jack turns his attention to his footwear, opting for a pair of polished black leather shoes. Would you examine his shoes with a magnifying glass? No, but that doesn't stop Jack from meticulously brushing off any lingering specks of dust, ensuring they shine in the morning light. As a finishing touch, he retrieves a felt Stetson hat, a prized possession that holds sentimental value because you gifted him with it. He tenderly cleans it, erasing any signs of wear, and proudly sets it atop his head.

Ready to see you- Jack leaves his apartment, the door closing behind him with a soft click. The crisp, chilly morning air greets him as he exits the lobby. I remember I met my sugar on a day like this, Jack thinks. He pretty much runs towards his car and turns the key making the engine roar to life. With each mile that passes throughout his two-hour drive, his mind remains focused on the meeting ahead.

When Jack arrives at the hospital, he hands his keys to the valet while scanning the surroundings for the reception area. He spots a man in a gray uniform and approaches him, his voice full of eagerness, "Good mornin’,” Jack begins, "I have a meeting with Dr. Navarro at 10 AM." 

"May I see your ID, please?" The man asks politely, extending his hand.

Jack hesitates for a moment and reluctantly hands over his ID, watching as the man's eyes scan the name. There's a brief pause, and then the man looks up at Jack, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"Jack Daniels." The man says with a chuckle, raising an eyebrow at the name on the identification. 

Jack, sensing the unspoken question, clenches his teeth and responds with a touch of irritability, "Yes, it's real." The man understands the tone and directs Jack toward the appropriate elevator.

Jack complied eagerly and made his way toward the elevator. With anticipation, he reached out and pressed the button, making it glow orange. A ding echoed behind him in a matter of seconds. He hurriedly stepped inside the elevator and quickly jabbed at the close button, unwilling to wait for another passenger. Jack kept repeating a mantra of hurry, hurry, hurry in his mind. Without wasting a second, he confidently pressed the number 10.

Jack grows impatient inside the elevator, his fingers tapping restlessly against his hips as he paces back and forth. The rising numbers on the display screen get his attention, frows burring with each digit slowly increasing- reminding him of precious time slipping away. "This has to be the slowest fukin' elevator in the world." He growls in the empty elevator. Frustration lingers in Jack's thoughts; You should've taken the stairs instead of the goddamn elevator, his inner voice cursing the choice that delays the meeting with you. And when the tenth floor finally arrives, Jack leaps into action, his boots hitting the clean baby blue floor with a resounding thud.

Startling the receptionist, Jack raises a hand in apology and walks toward the front desk. He provides his name and appointment details, receiving a buzz of approval before being directed to his destination. Jack rushes forward, his heart pounding. Unbeknownst to him, the receptionist shakes their head, silently cautioning him to be careful, a concern in the receptionist's head so he won't stumble and falls on his ass because of his hurried run. 

The instructions echo in his mind, and he checks them off as he goes; walk to the automatic white doors, check, press the buzzard, check, walk to the end of the corridor, check, make a left, check, take one last left, chec-

And there you are, seated on a gray leather bench outside the meeting room, your eyes locked onto the black screen of your phone as if you’re waiting for it to light up, lost in a world of your own. Jack's breath catches in his throat as he takes in the sight of you, and his eyes well up with tears. Time seems to stand still as he stares at you, overwhelmed by the flood of memories and emotions that surge within him. Despite the passage of years, you still possess the power to make his heart flutter, your presence stirring a mixture of awe and love. She's still the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, he thinks.

However, Jack's expression falters as he realizes the missed opportunities, the unspoken words, the love not fully cherished. Regret taints his thoughts as he reflects on the path that brought the both of you to this moment. He wants to make amends for the pain he caused you, but Jack knows that this meeting has a different purpose; he doesn't know why the exact reason, but after everything he put you through, there must be a reason you need him. He's not going to let you down, not again.

Summoning his courage, Jack calls out your name. Your head immediately turns towards the voice, one that hasn't graced your ears in years, and for a quick moment, he sees a flicker of reluctance in your eyes. Seeing Jack again, admittingly, stirs up an overwhelming desire to hide from him. All you can see are the haunting memories. A flood of painful flashbacks that would bring you to tears in privacy. The temptation to approach him surges within you, but it's not for a hug or a kiss, no. Instead, you imagine the crimson mark your hand could leave on his cheek. But you take a deep breath, reminding yourself of the reason you reached out to him after all these years.

"I didn't think you were going to show." You finally say, your voice tinged with relief and guarded vulnerability. Rising from the bench, you stand before him, your hands tucked inside the comforting embrace of your black hoodie's pouch. 

Jack's heart aches at the sight of you, knowing that the pain he inflicted has left an unforgettable mark on you. Though he craves to erase the memories of hurt, he understands that redemption lies in actions, not words alone. Taking a deep breath, he suppresses his own desire to close the distance, touch you, and maybe taste your lips again. He mentally shakes his head, focusing instead on the reason for your reunion.

"Hi, Sug-" He stumbles for a moment, realizing he no longer has the right to call you by the affectionate nickname. "I mean, hello. I'm here." 

"I'm glad you came."

Jack nods, his throat tight with emotions he struggles to put into words. "I knew I had to be here," he says, "I couldn't let this opportunity slip away." 

"There are things we need to address, wounds that need healing. I want to make things right, to find a way to move forward together."

You want to interrupt, to rip the bandaid off, but Raul's advice rings in your ears, urging you to let the meeting room be the place to lay everything on the table. So you hold back and let Jack do the talking.

Jack takes a step closer, the distance between you shrinking. His heart pounds in his chest as he gets closer. "I know I've caused you so much pain," he continues, his voice tinged with regret. "I'm here today because... because I want to make things right. I wanna understand, I wanna listen, and try to heal the wounds I've caused. I wanna be there for you, to support you, to love you, and do whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness. And if you'll let me, I wanna be a part of-" 

Just as Jack was about to request something that has always been on his mind, a door opening from behind you interrupts him. Raul with one foot inside the meeting room and the other in the corridor, calls out for both your names.

"We're ready for you," Raul announces a sense of urgency in his voice. He holds the door open, his gaze shifting between the two of you.

You exchange a quick glance with Jack, seeking reassurance, a silent confirmation that he'll follow through and both of you follow Raul into the conference room. The door shuts softly behind you, filling the room with the only sound. Your gaze sweeps the room, and you take in the white conference room with its black and white marble table in the middle and the soft glow of natural light.

Feeling a wave of emotions crashing over you, you instinctively shut your eyes for a few seconds to compose yourself. This is a lot harder than I expected... the thought lingers in your mind. Dr. Navarro's words echo in your memory, urging you to relax through the simple act of breathing. Breathe in, breathe out, you repeat silently, allowing the rhythmic inhalation and exhalation to steady your racing heart.

Choosing your chair carefully, you opt to sit with your back facing the window. It provides a sense of security and shields you from external distractions allowing you to solely focus on Jack. Your hand reaches out and lands upon one of the gray roll-on chairs, its smooth leather headrest cool against your fingertips. 

On the opposite side of the table, Jack is reluctantly guided by Raul to his designated seat. Oh, I can sit wherever I damn well please, he scoffs silently, but I suppose I can play by the rules for now. Just think about all the appointments with Dr. Reynolds and what-if scenarios. Don't mess this up. He takes a seat, begrudgingly accepting the arrangement, while his back deliberately faces the door. The positioning serves as a physical reminder of the boundaries and emotional distance that have grown between the two of you throughout the years.

Raul takes a seat at the head of the table. Clearing his throat, he breaks the silence. "Thank you both for coming today. As you may already know, the purpose of this meeting is of utmost importance. Mr. Daniels, the reason my client-"

Jack interrupts, his voice filled with a mix of urgency and vulnerability. "Stop. I don't want this to be an official meeting. I just... I want," he glances at you, his eyes searching for understanding, "I just want you to do the talking, please." He knows he has no right to make demands, but he wants to talk with you directly, to bridge the gap between you, if even it's just for a moment.

Raul looks at you briefly, to see how you're doing. "My role is simply to facilitate the conversation," Raul responds, his voice assuring and tinged with a hint of anger. Maldito inútil malparido (Fuking useless bastard). This asshole hurt her so much. How dare he make demands? Raul is well aware of the pain Jack caused you. He was one of the first people you confided in about the divorce, and he naturally helped you with the process. Raul cashed in many favors to expedite the process which would usually take time. In fact, he stayed up all night to ensure that he could serve Jack the papers the morning after you left him.

Truth be told, Raul initially liked Jack when you first introduced him to your friends. However, as time went on and you grew more serious, Jack's repeated slips of the tongue and thoughtless actions made Raul's opinion of him sour. The final straw for Raul was when Jack couldn't even give you the wedding you deserved. Raul knew how much you loved Jack, so even though he could see through your forced smile when discussing the wedding details, he congratulated you both and sent a gift.

You meet Raul's gaze, conveying your appreciation for his support. "Raul, está bien. (Raul, it's okay.)" You say softly, recognizing his concern and knowing that you need to have this conversation directly with Jack.

With a nod, Raul settles back in his chair, allowing the focus to shift solely to the two of you. The room is filled with a charged silence. As you prepare to speak, you take a moment to gather your thoughts and decide how you want to phrase everything.

"My baby... my baby has Fanconi Anemia and needs a blood donor." You explain, your voice trembling with desperation. "No one in the family has been a close match. Even among friends, no one is a match. I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say that almost everyone I know has been tested, but a donor hasn't been found."

You pause, the weight of the situation making your heart hurt. "Just a month ago, we were hopeful. A match was finally found through the National Marrow Donor Program. We finally felt like we could breathe, but then she was involved in a severe car accident. She was T-boned by a drunk driver, and her car fell into a ditch, causing a traumatic brain injury. Thank God she's going to be okay, but unfortunately, her condition disqualifies her from being a donor."

Tears well up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. "Now, we're back to square one, searching for a compatible donor, but it's going to take a long time again. Jack, I know you didn't love me or care about me, and I understand that you didn't want me to have the baby. But please, I'm begging you to get tested to see if you're a match. If you are, please consider donating."

A rush of emotions floods through you, a mixture of fear, vulnerability, and a glimmer of fragile hope. You gaze into Jack's eyes, desperately searching for a spark of compassion, a willingness to help. "I understand you still resent me for everything. If you do this, I promise it will be the last time I'll contact you. I won't ask for anything more. Please, Jack." 

Jack takes a moment to absorb your words, his eyes flickering with a complex mix of emotions. "What's their name?" He asks, his voice filled with curiosity and a hint of longing.

"His name is Ángel." You reply softly, feeling a bittersweet ache in your heart.

Jack's eyes widen, and a myriad of emotions passes over his face. "Ángel." He repeats and although he can't quite replicate your pronunciation thanks to his accent, it's still beautiful to him.  "I have a son." He whispers, his voice barely audible.

A flood of thoughts and emotions washes over Jack, overwhelming him. He shuts his eyes momentarily, attempting to process everything. This newfound knowledge stirs something deep within him, a sense of responsibility and a longing to be a father. I lost a son before he was born, I missed out on Ángel’s life when I said I didn’t want him, but I won’t lose him again. 

With determination in his voice, Jack looks at you. "I'll donate. I’ll do whatever it takes to help Ángel.”

He’s going to do it, you let out a sigh of relief. The alleviation that surges through you, washes away some of the anxieties that had been weighing you down. You're grateful that Jack is willing to take this step, to offer his help for the sake of your son. However, before you can express your gratitude, Jack's questions pour out in a rush.

“But... what is Fanconi Anemia? How bad is it? Is the procedure going to hurt him? Does he need surgery? What if I’m not a matc-" his voice trails off, uncertainty and concern etched on his face.

Realizing his anxieties, you reach out and gently interrupt him, calling his attention. "Jack," you say softly, trying to soothe his worries. "Breathe."

"I'm sorry. I forgot to explain Ángel's condition. His doctor was supposed to join us, but I can explain for now."

You take a deep breath, grateful that Jack is willing to help. "Fanconi Anemia is a rare condition where the bone marrow doesn't produce enough blood cells." You explain, your voice filled with sadness. "Ángel was diagnosed fairly recently because he didn’t have any physical abnormalities. But then, he started experiencing frequent nosebleeds, which was weird to us. We took him to his Pediatrician, who ordered blood tests. The results showed abnormally low blood counts, and that's when we knew something was wrong."

A twinge of admiration and pride fills your words as you continue. "He underwent a bone marrow needle biopsy to confirm the diagnosis. It wasn't an easy procedure, even though they numbed the area. I could see the discomfort in his eyes, but he never complained. In fact, he saw that my eyes were red and swollen, and he reassured me that he didn't even feel it. I knew it was a lie, but he just wanted to protect me."

Your voice trembles with a blend of love and admiration as you speak of your son's strength. The memories of his bravery since before his official diagnosis fills your heart with both pride and a deep ache. You pause for a moment, to regain your composure.

You are about to explain more about his condition and the procedure when the door behind Jack opens. Jack's gaze is solely focused on you since he assumes his son's doctor is the one coming in. Suddenly, you have a smile on your face when you look over Jack's shoulder, and he's confused until he hears the voice of the man that has given him nightmares ever since he got served with divorce papers.

“Cariño, Danny, and Heidi are staying with Ángel now,” Javier says as he makes his way to you, his presence a comfort for you and unease for Jack. "Sorry I'm late, I wanted to stay to see if he could keep his food down." He hovers over you and kisses the top of your head.

He pulls out a chair next to you, and that's when Jack sees it – a wedding band on Javier's left ring finger.

Fuck.

Unconsciously, you pull your hand from underneath the table and place your left hand on Javier's for comfort.

You had your hand covered the entire time, and that's when Jack notices it- your rings. 

Fuck.

You’re married to him? Jack seethes in his head.

“Jack.” Javier nods but Jack can’t respond. How can he respond when another man is married to the love of his life? 

In a moment of anger and hurt, Jack blurted out, "Did you cheat on me with him? Is that why you wanted a divorce?" Jack asks, the pain and jealousy bubbling to the surface.

Just like that, some of the gratitude for Jack shatters.

The response from you was immediate, “Jesus, no, you asshole,” you spit out, offended. “How dare you ask that?”

“You didn’t love me. That’s why I divorced you." You retort, feeling the anger resurface.

At that moment everything he discussed with Dr. Reynolds, all of the progress was gone. He did just find out so much within the past few minutes, and his usual coping techniques seemed to fail him in this moment of overwhelming emotions.

“Wait, if you cheated on me with him, that means he could have been the one to knock you up. How do I know Ángel is my son?” Of course, you remarrying was killing him, but if that on top of having his son snatched when he just got him back, it would end him.

“I never cheated on you, Jack.” You spit out, offended. “You were the one that was involved in another relationship, even if it was emotional. Not me. Don’t make me the villain.”

"You’re Ángel’s biological father, Jack." You emphasized, hoping to dispel any doubts he had. But he seemed stuck in his head.

Biological, the word echoed in his ears. It was a harsh reminder that he was just the man who contributed to Ángel's DNA. He hasn't been his dad, and if he keeps this up, he will never know his son like he wants to.

"You want a paternity test? Done," you offered, wanting to rid his doubts. "But if you don’t want to take my word for it, Fanconi Anemia is an inherited disease. Ángel has the FANCR gene, which is autosomal dominant. I got screened for it, and I’m not a carrier. Autosomal dominant means that a gene from one parent can cause the genetic condition. If I didn’t pass the gene, that means you’re the carrier. That’s how Ángel got the disease."

The reality hit him like a ton of bricks. I did this to my son. He’s sick because of me.

The room falls silent, the weight of the revelation hanging in the air. The pain and guilt wash over him, and Jack is overwhelmed by his emotions.

"Querida, calm down. This isn’t good for you. Te va ser daño. (It’s going to harm you.) This isn’t good for the baby," Javier tries to soothe you, his voice gentle and caring. Javier's dark eyes bore into Jack with rage. Jack can feel the anger emanating from your husband. Javi leans forward, his body language asserting his presence. His jaw clenches, the muscles in his neck visibly tense, and his hands grip the edge of the table as he struggles to keep his emotions in check.

The baby? Jack thinks.

The hospital is always cold, which is why you always have a sweater with you, but right now, you feel like you're burning up. You lean back from the table and unzip your hoodie, instantly feeling cooler with your sweater out of the way.

Jack's eyes are drawn to your swollen and round stomach, and he's speechless.

Extended note: Just as I thought, Jack is more popular than Dave, so in the meantime, I'll be working on the graphics for this series instead of Eres Mía. Dave is one of my top 3 favorite Pedro characters, and I think he's highly underrated, but I get the love for the cowboy! 

I'm slowly adding titles of fics that I plan on sharing, so if you see something without a link on my masterlist, I'll get to it (eventually). After this series is completed, I think I'll post another Whiskey one-shot (he's been to therapy in this one :), but I'm not too sure yet.

If you've read this far, thank you, and have a great day 🤎

Please feel free to comment and reblog! I truly do love reading them!

Tag list: @kchavez666 @ttupelohoneyy

#angst #jack daniels x female reader #Jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels angst #jack whiskey daniels #jack daniels x you #kingsman fanfiction #Jack daniels #agent whiskey #no y/n #javier peña #javier peña x you #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #not rpf #tw:sick child #loslentesdepedrito's writing #my writing #fic: iyw

[tightjeansjavi]

Welcome to my masterlist of all my Pedro Pascal character writings ♡ kind reminder that my blog is +18. If you are a minor, do NOT interact.

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[marvelwitchergilmore]

Secure

Summary; Javier Peña x Fe!Reader -> You meet Peña at a coffee shop but after time passes, he finds out your secret.

Disclaimer: fluff, angst, mentions of guns, mentions of death, illusions to smut, swearing (I think, I haven't proof read this - probably spelling mistakes), spanish is in italics.

You had met Javi one late night in the coffee shop. You were getting the place cleaned up for the morning. Isabella, a regular customer, was sat in the corner with her nose burried deep in her research. The old man who’d you come to know as Pops - a name he told everyone to call him by - was finishing his book closer to the counter. It had been a promise he made to his wife. To read a little, at least, while she was gone. That way they’d have something else to talk about when they met again. Jośe, the young boy who’d run through the door every couple of hours in need of a coffee for his mama and a small cookie for himself, had just left, rushing out of the door going ten miles an hour. 

“Good book, pops?” You asked and he looked up and smiled. 

“Excellent.”

“Good.” You smiled. 

Just as you placed the empty cups from different tables by the counter, the bell above the door rang out. “You open?”

You looked over your shoulder. “Yeah. For a couple minutes.”

“Great.”

He rushed over, you moving the dirty cups from the counter. 

“What can I get for you?” You asked in English. 

“Coffee. Decaf.”

“Coming up.”

Then it hit him. “How’d you know I was American?”

“What?” You looked to him as you changed the filter. “Oh, uh, just a guess.”

He nodded and looked around, suddenly being met with Pops. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Sweet.”

You smiled and waved to Pops. “Have a good night.”

“Night.”

“Nice Spanish.”

You smiled. “Thanks. I’ve lived here long enough, I should know.”

“I’m Javier, by the way.”

You smiled back and gave him your name which he repeated. It sounded nice. 

“So, how long have you lived in Columbia?”

“A couple years. Yourself?”

“Same.” 

The conversation ended soon enough when his coffee was paid for - he had something important to get back to. 

But the next night, you were closing up again and he came in. In fact, for the following weeks, he came in around the same time every night; just before closing. 

He started conversations with Pops who would tell Javier the meaning behind all his books. He actually started taking a couple of night classes at the local college. His wife always told him he needed to socialise more. 

She was a people person. 

And Javier would sit there and listen. Pops, clearly, was a man who demanded respect with a single look. Something, over the weeks, you realised Peña had, too. 

During the week, you had heard rumours about Javier. About his job. 

But it was never something you asked him about. You knew more than to ask an American in Columbia if he was working for the government. 

But still, he’d come in every day and order a cup of coffee and smoke his cigarette. You’d both talk and eventually, it got to the point where he’d walk you home. 

It wasn’t far; maybe a couple of blocks. 

You’d tell him why you came to Columbia - your sister. She travelled after college and invited you to join her. But something made you stay. 

He ask where you learnt Spanish. You’d tell him school, mostly, but the practice came in while you worked in the coffee shop. 

Some days, he’d come in during the day and just talk to you. He’d order a coffee here and there but it mostly remained untouched which wasn’t like him. 

Steve had asked questions at work about who Javi was going seeing every day - at first he expected it was to see one of his ‘informants’ but after he began to smell less perfume and more coffee around Peña, it raises his suspicions. 

Peña would give a vague answer but when Steve told Connie, she knew instantly. 

It wasn’t that a woman’s intuition was lost of Peña, it was just something about Connie that scared him. She seemed to know what he was thinking about whenever she looked at him. 

Little did he know, she’d seen him a couple times walk into the same coffee shop and leave with a smile on his face. One Connie nor Steve ever saw on the man’s face. 

But surpringly, it took him a while to ask you on a date. 

Javier wasn’t one for dating. After all, his job didn’t exactly allow it - especially in Columbia - but Connie (and Pops) thought he would have at least done it sooner. After all, the man came in every day for weeks just to simply spend time with you. He’d walk you home and always made sure you were safe. And god help any man that approached the counter and started flirting with you. 

It was like Javier had a radar for those who were flirting with you because each time, not two seconds later, Javier would stroll into the shop and make his way to the counter. Most times, it was like you had a radar for him, too. His coffee would be ready for him to pick up and if the guy wasn’t scared away by the look Peña gave them, he’d order a couple more cups for Steve and Connie (she’d usually come by in the afternoons to check in on him when she had the day off). He’d stay until the guy left and most people who looked away from their books noticed. 

And maybe, in truth, you had noticed a little, too. Most guys tended to scarper when Javi walked in. A few of them would even apologise to him and you for thinking differently. 

Eventually, when he asked you on a date, you said yes. 

He was so nervous. Imagine; Javier Peña, nervous around a woman. Even the heavens wouldn’t believe it. 

But he was. 

He’d asked after he dropped you off at your apartment. His palms were sweating, his mind was racing, and you were right in front of him. 

But the moment you smiled, his nerves eased. 

You smiled at him, nodded and said; “I’d love to.”

He smiled back, a little more confident, and before you opened your door, you kissed his cheek. 

“Goodnight, Javi.”

“Night, hermosa.”

As you closed your door, leaning against it, you smiled but you knew. 

You were in deep trouble. 

It didn’t take too long before you were both…intimate with one another. Four dates, in fact. It was longer than either of you had presumed but it kinda made sense. Mostly, the dates went as follows: 

You’d both ask questions which the other would answer, just simply wanting to know more. Then, you’d take turns picking the restaurant or bar. Next, you’d both head back to the coffee shop - the temp waitress had a family to get back to in the late nights - where you’d wrap your apron around your waist and serve the last couple cups of coffee to the night owls. Finally, Javi would either walk or drive you home (usually walk since he could hold your hand or wrap an arm around your waist) and finally would kiss you goodnight. 

It felt different. 

You’d gone on dates before but…they didn’t feel like this. Like…it was the first time but it was also the millionth. 

It felt…natural.

Homely.

A couple more weeks passed and you’d see Javier at least once a day. He always pop into the cafe to either kiss you good morning (when you hadn’t spent the night together - which was a rareity) or to kiss you goodnight which, you weren’t ashamed to admit would always turn into something more. 

One morning, as Javi lay back in bed, the cover draped over his lower half, he watched as you got dressed by the end of the bed. 

But that was when he noticed them. 

How he hadn’t before shocked him. It was like he studied every inch of you - and not only in the night but that morning too - and yet, how did they slip by him. 

“Hermosa?”

You smiled at the nickname before turning to look at him over you shoulder. You just wished you both had the day off. 

“The marks…”

It took you a moment to realise what he was talking about. But then it hit you. 

A memory you wished to forget. 

“They’re just from…” you contemplated telling him. 

He’d understand, right? He never confirmed it fully but you knew he worked as DEA. He’d understand carry a couple extra physical scars from a job, right? 

“They’re nothing, Javi.” 

You heard him shuffle around before you finally felt his hand on your back, tracing them before placing a soft kiss onto a couple, brushing your hair from your shoulders. 

You felt yourself melt into him, his other hand now reaching around your stomach to capture the other side of your waist. 

Slowly, you both lay back but then you remembered. 

You had a job. 

Unfortunately.

Javi groaned. He had one, too. 

You pressed a few kisses to his lips before he moved from on top of you and headed for the bathroom, him leaving you resting on your forearms with a huge blush across your cheeks. 

God, you were falling. 

Hard. 

It would be a while longer until Javier would find out the truth behind those scars; Find out the story that came with them and you. 

And it wasn’t in any way either of you thought it would happen. 

4 months later…

The sun was still burning hot over Columbia. Thankfully, however, the humidity was becoming less close and claustrophobic. 

Yourself and Javi had been going pretty strong. You had met Steve and Connie - albeit a little surprisingly. 

One of your waitresses had cut their hand whilst cutting up some of the breads for lunch later that day. Connie had been passing on the street with Olivia when one of the customers ran out asking for a nurse or doctor. 

Connie came rushing inside. 

After asking for your first aid kit and a space away from the customers, she handed you Olivia who you stood with in the kitchen as Connie cleaned out the wound and did what was necessary. 

“You’re lucky. It doesn’t need stitches. Just keep it wrapped and clean.” 

Your waitress, Elena, looked to you confused. You translated in Spanish and she nodded before thanking Connie. 

You gave Elena the rest of the day and offered Connie a cup of coffee and some food on the house. She thanked you before sitting down at one of the tables and placing Olivia on her lap. 

Yet, by the time you finished up, Javi had come strolling in and was a little shocked to find Connie sat inside. 

And, as suspected, Connie was shocked to find Javi there, too. But then it began to make sense. 

The smell off the coffee shop - it was Javi. 

It was you. 

Later that night, after Connie had insisted, you sat down and had a double date with Connie and Steve at a local place. 

Steve was glad Peña had finally found someone. As much as he himself had enjoyed the single life, there was just something about being married. About having someone to go to when things got too tough. 

And, this was something, if Steve ever said it out loud, Jacier would have to agree with. 

Sometimes it was like you were the only thing keeping him breathing. Keeping his mind awake when all it wanted to do was drown in the crime and the cases he delt with on a daily basis. 

The last six months, from the moment of meeting, it had felt like bliss. 

But sometimes it felt like Javi was waiting for the other shoe to drop. And, although you never voiced it, you did, too. 

And finally, late one night in the coffee shop, it did. 

Javi had worked later than he’d wished to have done. His paperwork had kept him back, making seven typing errors in one sentence. 

Most of the time, he wouldn’t bother. But with Messina…everything had to be up to code. 

And legible. 

But as he walked up the street, he found flashing lights outside your coffee shop, a waitress sat by the ambulance getting patched up and no sign of you. 

His heart dropped. 

“Peña?” 

One of the cops recognised him. “I wasn’t aware we’d called the DEA.”

“You…what happened?”

“Oh, uh, robbery. Or, attempted. Two shooters. One deceased.”

“And the other?”

“Hospital.”

“How?”

“The owner faught. One of them came from the back and sneaked up on her. She said she was fine and needs to go home. We’re gonna bring her in for questioning tomorrow.”

Peña nodded, trying his best to keep a clear mind. So you was okay? Why hadn’t you called him? 

As quickly as he could, he ran to his car and sped down the roads towards your apartment. But the closer he seemed to get, the more he began to panic. 

You had faught? 

It wasn’t that he was surprised but…no, he was surprised. Most people when met with two armed gun men didn’t exactly fight against them. Especially when the only other person in the shop had been knocked clean out and now had a severe concussion. 

But you had faught. You had, what? Killed one gun man and injured the other? 

This seemed more than just a robbery, to Peña. He didn’t exactly know why. Maybe it was the fact that the toll hadn’t even been touched. Maybe it was the fact that they’d knocked out one of the waitresses. Maybe it was the gun they had been using - Peña saw them as they got taken in for evidence. 

This couldn’t have just been a robbery. 

Peña didn’t bother knocking. He knew where you kept the spear key and he knew the code. 

He shouted your name as he entered, shutting the door behind him. “Honey?!” 

Javier had to double back as he passed the enterence to you living room. There you were, sat on the sofa, blood splattered across your body, hair, arms and clothes. You had a first aid kit open in front of you. Javier could see the bloody gauzes in a pile in the table. 

“I’m fine-“

He rushed in, pulling you up and hugging you. God, he thought you might have been dead. That the cop had got it wrong and he’d decided to just hear what he wanted to. 

But he didn’t.

You were here. 

You were alive. 

Are.

“Cariño,” Javi’s voice was soft as he took you in. Any anger he had right now could be saved for later. All that mattered was that you was alive. 

You pulled back from him to sit back down. You needed to clean the wound. 

One of the gun men had got you. Thankfully it wasn’t too bad and since it was night, you got away with telling the cop the stain on your uniform was from the kitchens. 

Peña pushed the first aid beside him as he sat on your coffee table, you knees interlocked with his. 

“It doesn’t hurt?” He asked you after a couple of minutes. He was shocked. Most men he’d met would be at least grunting in pain by now. 

You shook your head.

Something changed in Javi. His back became straighter, his gaze more focused. 

“Those scars. How did you get them?”

“Javi.”

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“They’re nothing-“

“Bullshit.”

You stared him down. He wouldn’t budge. 

“How did you fight? Those men. One is dead and the other will probably do so in hospital. What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Y/N.”

You bursted. You tried your best to look away as Javi questioned you but when he said your name…

“I was a cop, alright!” You hadn’t meant for it to sound so loud. 

Javi just looked at you. You hadn’t told him? Was this how you got the scars?

You sighed as you looked down. Well, it was out in the open now. 

“I was a cop, back in the states. FBI.” You explained, your voice a little quieter now. “I had a partner, a couple years back. We had been working on a case for months. Turns out, all the information, all the insider stuff he’d found - it had come from him. He wanted into their circle. The people I had seen die, everyone’s families and children and friends had all died because he was the mole. He would tell the group where to find the families, he’d tell us he knew where the groups would be that night. Then he’d go back and inform them that we were on our way. It as fucked up.”

Javi waited for you to continue. 

“Look, I felt something was wrong so I tailed him one night. I put a call in and somehow…he found me one night. He caught be by the shipyard. When my agents finally turned up, I was almost dead. When I woke up in hospital, a guy came in. CIA. I had a bag packed, my life covered up and a plane ticket to wherever I wanted to go.”

“So you came to Columbia?”

“My sister stopped over for three days and I stayed. I don’t know what made me but I did. An agent found me a job at a local place since I wasn’t ready to go into the field or anywhere near it. The job stuck and then I decided to buy the place.”

“And the guys?”

“Local gang, I guess. They look into everyone’s background and they must have thought something was up with mine.”

“Did they say anything?”

“Just that I was American and that I had a dirty secret.”

“They know you were a fed?”

You shook your head. “Probably thought I was an informant or some shit.”

Javier nodded. You could see the worry in his eyes. 

“I’m fine, Javi.”

“You could have told me, you know.”

You looked at him. Maybe. Maybe you could have told him earlier. Maybe you should have told him earlier. But what would that have done? Make him worry more? Make him panic when you were left alone?

You’d been in Columbia a good few years before you met Javi. You were one of the best agents the FBI had in the field and - if you ever wanted it - there was a job waiting for you at the FBI in the states, the CIA or, probably now, the DEA. 

You were protected. By your career, by your knowledge, by your skills and by the fact that you entire past had been burried so deep, not even the Pentagon had access to it. 

Your gaze was both soft and serious. 

“I’m telling you now.”

Over the next hour, Javi went to your bathroom and grabbed a fresh face cloth before getting a bowl of warm water. Sitting back in his place on the table, he held your chin softly, Turing your face so he could wipe away the splats of dried blood. 

Once he finished, he placed the cloth down and turned back when he felt your hand grip his. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Javi just nodded, interlocking his knees with yours once more. “I get it. I do. I just wish…”

“I know.”

You both shared a look with one another. It didn’t need to be said out loud. 

Peña leaned in, and pressed a secure kiss to your lips. 

You would be okay. 

You are alive. 

And, over time, more stories would be revealed. What happened on certain jobs, what scars came from where, what they signified…

But in this moment; it didn’t matter. 

All of that could wait until tomorrow. 

For tonight, he wanted to show you what you meant to him. He’d say the words soon enough, but right now, he just needed to show you. 

And you were okay with that. 

After all, you felt the exact same way. 

#javier pena x reader #javier pena x y/n #javier pena imagines #fluff #angst #fbi #oneshots #dea #narcos #narcos netflix #javier pena x you #javier peña #agent pena #javier pena fic #javier pena angst #javier pena narcos #hidden identity #falling in love #steve murphy #pedro pascal #Pedro pascal javier pena #javier peña x reader #love #Jacier Peña #javier peña narcos #javier peña x you

[undercoverpena]

vi. the place where I want to be

javier peña x f!reader | chapter six of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: fluff. flirting. making out. alludes to smut. sinful thoughts. continuous romcom vibes. an: javi and reader, sitting on a bed... ;) wordcount: 3.5k.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

Javi traces his bottom lip with the tip of his thumb, allowing himself the chance to let his eyes roll up and down you.

Taking it in that you’re real.

“Or should I say hola?” 

He smirks, laughing and dropping his hand from his mouth. “You can say hola, hermosa. If you want.”

Dipping your head, he watches you take a breath before you lift your eyes to meet his again. All beautiful, shining—practically fucking sparkling. 

“I knew you’d be fucking handsome.”

“I knew you’d be beautiful.”

Letting his eyes carve around you, he creates an outline before he spends the time shading it in. Unable to tear his eyes from you, the way everything around you seems a fraction brighter, even if he knew that could be so.

All he knows is every inch of you is more perfect than the version he had in his head. 

Then, you blink, dipping your chin before you shift your weight onto another leg. Your fingers playing with your sleeve, something on your mind, puzzle pieces from the little sighs he knows down the phone, marrying with the mannerisms he now gets to see. 

“I know the customary thing is to hug, but….”

Smiling, he eyes you up. “But, what?”

“I really wanna kiss you.” 

Fuck. Me too. That’s all he thinks, hand resting on his hip as he watches you try to appear confident—embrace how your words fell from your lips as though it didn't take all of your strength to confess them.

“You should buy a person a coffee before kissing them.”

Snorting, he watches your brows rise, an expression falling across your face that makes him want to laugh. “Don’t think you’re a stranger, Javi. I came to the sound of your voice four nights ago.”

He licks his lips, your snark dripping with honey.

It makes it easy to slide a hand around your waist, bringing you flush with him. “I guess I did promise you the feel of my lips.” 

"You did."

It's dizzying, the way you gaze at him. More so when you slowly place your wrists on his shoulders, fingers tantalisingly close to the hair at the base of his neck.

It's why he allows you a moment, a chance to push him away—to reconsider. But, you don’t seem to want to take it, one hand sliding down his chest, fingers toying with the fabric of his open shirt—staring at him. All he can do is watch your pupils being swallowed by something he wants to see in more detail later. More privately. 

“Kiss me, baby," you whisper.

In the back of his throat, he buries a groan. Gently slanting his lips over yours, tasting it—mint and lipgloss—as his fingers slide under your cheek and jaw. Holding you, feeling you. Taking every bit of self-control not to pick you up and take you to his truck.

Instead, he just allows the pads of his touch to paint a pattern across your skin. Taking note of the way your mouth moves with his, widening, allowing him to swipe his tongue across your bottom lip, feeling your whimper echo down his throat. 

And he doesn’t want to stop, not ever. 

Not as you grip his forearm, frame pinned to his as though it’s a crime the two of you have ever been apart. 

He supposes it is. An offence he's ever been without you before now. Even if he has you now.

Your lips fall from his in a way that you know you both must, too. Lashes fluttering open, blinding him in pure gold and sunshine, all full of longing, your eyes almost shaped like hearts staring back at him. 

“Let’s get you checked in, ay.” 

Nodding, you bite your lip. His hand releases you, before reaching around you, taking the handle of your suitcase—somehow surprised at how heavy it is. 

“What you got in here?” 

It's instant, the way you wrap your arms around yourself, your lips twist into a grin. "I wasn’t sure what to pack.” 

“Mierda, querida. How long are you staying for? Una semana o un mes.” 

Narrowing your eyes, your fingers jab at him playfully. “Hilarious. Una semana.”

Raising his brow, you stick out the tip of your tongue. But what takes him by surprise is the way your fingers slide around his other wrist. Your eyes shimmering with hope and insecurity, and instantly, he knows. 

Smiling, almost instinctively so. It graces the lower half of his face before his mind catches up to the fact, his fingers sliding between yours—fitting so perfectly, flawlessly so. 

He blames it for why he kisses your forehead, capturing how your face shifts into a blend of the sun and a smile. 

“C’mon, charmer, show me your ride.” 

Javi offers to take you to a restaurant, but you insist on something smaller—a diner, a cafe.

“Some place I can get something greasy and not be judged.”

He notices in the truck, that you tap your fingers when it goes silent. Head turned, eyes staring out at the passing city as he drives the two of you to the hotel, fingers playing an imaginary piano on your knee.

A part of him wants to reach over, smooth his hand over—calm you. Rid you of your nerves. Until he realises, he’s doing the same on the steering wheel.

The hotel reception area is small, to the point he finds his front pressed against your back. If you mind, you say nothing, occasionally shooting him a smirk over your shoulder as you check in for both his and your rooms.

“You’ve got broad shoulders,” you say when the elevator doors close.

Biting the inside of his mouth, he clutches the handle of his suitcase. “Y’been admiring, have ya?”

You only offer one word, and a smirk: “Maybe.” The elevator binging, the doors opening, you sliding out with your suitcase in toe as you glance over your shoulder at him as you go to freshen up.

His mind doesn’t stop racing until the moment he shuts his own door behind him. The pulsing electricity of you being so close running through his nerves.

You were here: all real and beautiful. 

Hand tugging out his phone, he's barely thinking as he fires it off. His reckoning comes several seconds later as he changes his shirt.

she’s beautiful, murphy Wrong number, baby. But thank you. 

"Shit."

He stares at it, your reply. His mind imagining, constructing the expression you'd have been wearing—it makes him smile.

she’s beautiful, murphy

And she’s got you using grammar. She’s a keeper.

fuck you 

Glad you’re alive and that’s she what you imagined.  Connie told me to tell you she can come with you next time you visit Miami.

I’ll keep it in mind 

You told him you’d meet him at his truck.

A sight he found almost short-circuited him when he spotted you leaning against it, sporting a tee and jeans, with shades hiding your eyes. 

Unsure how to greet you again, choosing instead to open the car door for you, watching as you slide your sunglasses down your nose, keeping your eyes on him until you got in.

Each time you peer at him like that, he swears he sees something twinkling, shimmering, in your eyes. A thing he wanted to keep hold of forever. See it always—never be apart from it. 

The thought rises and falls in his head, a brief thing he considers, but doesn't allow himself to overthink. It's the first day. Still, plenty of time for him to say the wrong thing.

Do the wrong thing.

Peña it.

Don’t want to fuck this up.

It's a phrase the two of you keep saying. Both of you pepper it into conversation and texts here and there since the moment you agreed.

Something which had been sitting in his truck with him until he saw you outside the airport, and now it's slowly fading to nothing as the two of you head to a place he’d heard was good. 

It's nothing fancy. All plastic menus and fluorescent light, but you beam at him as the two of you choose a booth in the back. Your eyes begin scanning the menu before he even picks his up. Too busy allowing himself another moment to note your nose scrunch and the way your eyes widen when you read something.

Drinks are ordered, and food is too, before a comfortable silence falls over the two of you until the drinks arrive. He mirrors you when you lean back, shifting his hips as his knee nudges yours.

“Did you get hold of your dad?” 

Smiling, he rests his forearms on the table—watching you stir the spoon around your coffee. Something you’ve been doing for a solid minute, having not put anything in it that even needs mixing. 

“I did. He’s good.” 

Nodding, you smile, eyes dropping back to the menu. 

Another silence falls, still a comfortable one. One that he imagines people have together when they’ve been dating for a while.

It doesn't need to be filled, but it permits a moment for the other to stare at the person across from them. 

To admire them. To appreciate them. Both things he's doing plenty.

Each second he's granted, it makes it harder not to slide around to your side of the booth and place his thigh close to yours. His body screams, practically calling out to you, both because he wants to soothe any lingering anxiousness and also to be as close to you as he humanly can be.

A feeling that makes him massage the bridge of his nose—

“Is this weird?” 

He eyes you, dropping his hand, wrapping it around the cheap porcelain mug before bringing it to his lips. “Being in front of you or the situation?” 

You scrunch your nose. “Both?” 

Shaking his head, he takes a sip before placing it back down. “Not for me.” 

You look at the table, shifting in the booth seat. A smile, one that feels secretive—that you’re trying to hold back. “Not for me either.” 

He almost grins, almost. 

Like you, he keeps holding portions of it back so it doesn’t fully illuminate over his face. Instead, he stretches his hand across the table, passing the sauces and salt before your hand finds his—fingers, so perfectly, slotting between his. 

“It feels… right.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, “it does.” 

He rolls his lips, free hand stroking at the hair above his lip as he takes you in. How you watch him, how you sound exactly as you do in your text messages—that it all adds up.

From the little quirks, the nose scrunch, the brow, the way you smile. Each piece fills in the puzzle, forming a mural he never wants to tear down. 

“You talk quicker than you text,” you smirk. 

“Ay, hermosa.” 

Laughing, you tighten your fingers around his. “Kinda glad I’m here for a few days. I don’t want to have to wait fifteen minutes for a reply each time.” 

“You’re pushing it.” 

“I do that.”

He snorts, lips sliding up one side of his face. “Good job, I like it.” 

He sees it then, the way that you shift when you’re embarrassed. Eyes dropping, lips pinching into a smile as you wiggle, shifting in the booth. 

“You got much you have to do tomorrow?” 

Shaking your head, you look up—leaning back into the booth, tips of your fingers just in reach. “Not really. I have to speak to the sales manager—go through their reports, and then I have a meeting with someone from imports.”

You must notice his expression, the way his brows have slid into his hairline.

Smirking, you roll your eyes. “It sounds fancier than it is, former DEA. But, once I've done a handover, then I’m all yours for the rest of the week.” 

He points at himself. “All mine?” 

Nodding, he watches as your teeth bite your lip. “If you want?” 

Leaning onto the table, his fingers find the tips of yours. “‘Course I do.” 

Javi echoes your sentiment about not rushing things. Until you’re on his bed. 

Lay flat on your stomach, eyes staring down at the black and white squares both of you are yet to fill in. 

He hadn’t even thought about the crossword, not even as you split off from him in the grocery store—both having separate missions to collect supplies for a night watching something on whatever channel they had in either of their rooms.

So when you had met him at the checkout, placing down chips, sweets and a book, he arched his brow. 

“Turn it over." 

The assistant is barely awake, never mind paying attention to them waiting, still stacking the same stand they were when they walked in. So as he does turn it over, flicking his gaze down, Javi instantly sees the noticeable black and white squares and thick words written across it: CROSSWORD.

“Thought we could keep up your tradition.” 

It’s nothing. Not really.

Entirely a small thing, but it makes him move, hand wrapping around the back of your neck as he crashes his lips to yours. Doing so with a sea of gratitude and appreciation, heart doubling, thumping heavy and hard against his ribs. Hoping his mouth is articulating the sentiment as you smile against him.

It should scare him, terrify him to his bones at how much he feels so soon.

Because you thought of him, of this. This little thing he did that you now do together. 

That’s how you both ended up on his plush hotel bed, half the squares filled in—the easier clues picked off and written in a black biro you’d found in your bag. 

If he had thought you were impressive over text, watching your brain churn in person was something else. Your eyes flick to the side as you think, falling back to the clue, occasionally meeting him—stealing the breath from his lungs—

“37 is thatsthewayitis.” 

Each time you guess a clue, he finds he does the same thing. He raises his brow, watches you smirk, and then studies as you begin to etch each letter into the paper. The only noticeable change is how comfortable you slowly get and how much smugger you are. 

The voice he knows from the phone calls coming out more easily, your hands fidgeting less—body relaxing close to his 

“You think you’re gonna get involved at any point, Peña?” 

Nudging you, he smirks, glancing from your eyes to your lips. “You’re last naming me now? Fine. 38 down, stepup.” 

Handing him the pen, he takes it with a smirk, etching the word in as he finds your eyes still warming his skin. 

“63 across is Eddie,” you add, tapping the page as you move closer, shoulder brushing his. “And 52 is eerie.” 

“You, baby, are impressive.” 

Waiting until he’s written them in, he hears you swallow. The hotel duvet rustles as you move onto your side, arm reaching across, closing the book on his hand. 

For a moment, he just lets you drown him in your gaze—swallowing him whole, pulling him under. Unsure why he isn’t closing the gap, why he isn’t marrying his lips to yours—

“So are you, charmer.” 

Drinking you in, he releases the pen between the pages—leaning towards you. Nerves building, momentary panic that he could have misread this, until you begin to meet him halfway.

Then he’s kissing you for the billionth time today. The two of you moving together more seamlessly, all gentle and tender. Slowly placing his hands around your side, feeling you shift and move until you're under him, hands around his neck—leg hooked over his hip. 

Words similar to you’re perfect, almost murmur from him as the book falls to the floor with a thud. Them being replaced by words such as, you’re so pretty, prettier than he could have ever imagined, but you gasp against his mouth.

An array of other things are almost being kissed against your skin when you begin undoing the buttons of his shirt, brushing knuckles and skin against him. He thanks you by running his mouth against your jaw, tongue drawing lines as you whimper his name—his jeans getting impossibly tight as he lets it grow messy.

Until he remembers—

I don’t want to fuck this up. 

Pausing, he lets out a breath. Eyes closing. 

Your nervous voice down the phone. Your little explanation. The fact you told him you like him.

Your fingers brush against his scalp, scared to open his eyes and see something other than want or adoration in your eyes.

I want you. He wants to say. More than he can find the words.

But he wants to earn you.

“Querida…” Tell me what to do.

“I know.”

It leaves your lips full of sadness, a sorrow tinged and wrapped around the words like a vine.  

Tracing your cheek with his nose, he lets himself enjoy the feel of your fingers in his hair. The way you twirl a strand around a finger before you slowly let them fall from his neck. Slowly, he opens his eyes, finding you watching him, studying him—wondering if you’re committing him to memory in the same way he is with you.  

His thumb digs into your hip, fingers tightening around you. “You have work early, too.” 

“I do.” 

Begrudgingly, he slides off you, hand moving to his jeans conspicuously, shifting himself as he does—watching you glance at him as you stand from the bed. 

Shifting on the spot, he watches as you grin, smoothing down your clothes. “You’ll see me tomorrow, right?”

“I will.” 

Closing the gap to him, you lift up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks... y'know, for picking me up.”

“Anytime.” 

Licking your lips, you sigh softly. It graces the air, more than shoving into it. “Goodnight, Javi.” 

Two words he’s so used to hearing down a bad phone line, he never realised how heavenly they’d be in person. For a moment, it makes him too stunned to think, never mind say anything. 

Just watching as you glance back as you open the door of his room, waving lightly, barely able to spit the same sentiment to you before it clicks back into place. 

As soon as he’s alone, his palms find his eyes.

Instantly, the world gets a little dimmer, his heart descending a fraction in his chest.

Turning on the spot—memories of moments ago, the collection of them he’s been mounting up since that first ever text, sitting around him. All of it vibrating, shaking in fury and disappointment that he let you go.

All of them blend, dropping like paint splotches onto a canvas as it paints a photo of you. Of the two of you.

It captures the look in your eyes when you see him at the airport, the warmth he felt sitting across from you, talking about families and childhoods—

What is he fuckin' doing? 

Something he can’t even answer, something he’s not even sure about because he shouldn’t have let you walk out. Shouldn't have let you leave tonight ever considering that by lying with him, you could fuck this up.

It rises in him, how he shouldn't have let you get to the hallway, never mind to your room. Because how can either of you fuck up something that feels this right—that feels more right than he’s felt in his gut in a long time.

Fingers running through his hair, Javi’s feet move, forgoing his boots as he grabs the room key from the desk. He practically yanks open his hotel door, key shoved between his teeth as his hands move to his buttons, beginning to do them up—just in case. Wanting to be presentable when he stands at your door, when he tries to find the words to say. 

While your room is only down the hall, it feels like forever until he’s outside your door. 

Focused on scrambling words together, Javi shoves the key into his jean pocket, hand hovering over the door, all set to knock. 

Only to find it vanishes from his knuckles. 

And you’re standing there. All golden. The back of you is all illuminated by a lamp in your room as the hallway light splays across your features.

The way you look at him dries his throat, steals his words. Especially when it's a softer expression like this one, no teasing words and just a simple stare.

You look every bit ethereal and unreal—more like something he concocted in his mind, than made of skin and bone. 

Even if he just saw you moments ago, had you under him moments before that—Javi is still tempted to pinch himself, the entire day feeling like a fucking dream. 

“I…” you begin. 

But he knows. “We’re not going to fuck this up, are we, cariño?”

You smile, swallowing. “No. We’re not.” 

“Good, girl.” 

It’s instant. Like it’s scripted, rather than entirely by chance.

You melt into him as he muffles his name against his lips. Reminding him that this is real, you’re real. 

The earlier worries of rushing things fade to black, vanishing, turning all to dust as he manoeuvres you inside your room. Kicking it shut, feeling your fingers wrestling with the same buttons he’s just tried to fasten—a gasp escaping when your spine finds a wall. 

“If you want to stop—” 

Shaking your head, your hand holds his chin. Staring into him, scorching your thoughts into him. “I was coming to find you. Just now, when you…” 

“Came to find you?” 

Nodding, you bite your lip. Look every bit sinful, beautiful and fucking everything. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.”

Your fingers brush his cheek, that mischievous glint in your eye he’s caught occasionally across the diner table. “Show me how pretty you think I am, baby.” 

an: the next scene on friday is spicy. if you'd prefer to skip it, I'll see you on Tuesday.

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier peña narcos #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javi pena #javier peña x you #narcos x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javi pena x reader #narcos javier x reader #narcos javier #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfiction #javier pena narcos #pedrostories #agent peña #javi peña #mm: late night texts #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena

[sarcasmismyonlydefense24]

@ Pedro Pascal pls reject me so I can move on🙏🙏

#pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #dave york x reader #joel miller x daughter!reader #din djarin x mandalorian!reader #din djarin x reader #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal imagine #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #oberyn x reader #oberyn martell #prince oberyn #dave york smut #dave york #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey

[creedslove]

Which one of Pedro boys is more likely to move out of the bedroom, because your little baby is not letting him sleep properly. and because he has a job, he is like "no, I'm not sleeping in the same room as you and the baby."

I'm just crushed a little, because I heard a conversation ar my work among two men, who done this. I can't stop thinking about it since.

Like. Who would leave a bedroom to go sleep in a living room, until baby start sleeping during the night.

Javier P? He has responsible job. He needs to focus and think clearly.

Joel? Drive a car to work, he needs to focus and be precise.

Frankie? If someone suggested to him this as a solution, would he listen to the advice?

Jack? He is an agent, constant danger require clear and rested mind.

Dave? Would he take a pillow and move in his spare bedroom for few weeks?

Tim?! He is detective. 🍓✨

This makes me so sad, I get so upset when I see/hear about men being so insensitive towards their own son. Taking care of babies is exhausting but everyone should help, the couple, it's unfair to do that and so rude too.

That being said, I'm sure NONE of the Pedro boys would do that, because they are all great dads on their own way 🥺😍

So thinking of a situation like the one you mentioned, I believe that:

Javier Peña: he ain't no stranger to lack of sleep at night, he often suffers from it and struggles to get back to sleep once he wakes up, so instead wanting to move to another room, he picks up the baby and walks around the house with him, he's so soft, saying love words to his beautiful baby trying to calm his precious little child, since he can't sleep, he doesn't see why he would prevent you from resting in order to watch the baby

Joel Miller: yeah Joel works A LOT and it's hard work, but he also knows you work a lot by taking care of the baby and he's also been a dad, he knows some nights are easy and some are a nightmare. So he does what's correct: he acts like a real man and helps you take care of the baby; no matter how much their little Miller cries, he's there to help you, or he's there to tell you to go back to bed because he's gonna handle it. And I'm sure he plays the guitar to the baby 🤧🥺

Agent Whiskey: please, we know Jack's favorite hobby is to worship you and treat you like a goddamn queen, especially after you gave him his precious little Daniels baby; you've given him a family and he's given you himself entirely, and he will never let anything or anyone take away his family from him, so he will never leave you alone in the bedroom, that's just not happening at all... The baby's crying? No problem sugar, daddy Daniels is gonna take care of him for you. He checks the baby for a fever, a diaper change, sees if he's hungry and if by then your little cowboy hasn't calmed down, then he just holds the baby. Simple as that, giving him the snuggles until the baby is calmly asleep

Dave York: Dave would never sleep somewhere else, it doesn't matter if he literally kills for a living, inside his house, he's a family man and he will always make sure his family is around him. He thinks he's already too lucky to have a woman who accepts him for all his faults and sins and the moment he starts a family with you, he can't stay way, he needs to be close, to feel that love and remind himself he's part of it, also, he likes to be close in the case of a possible attack, he can defend you as soon as possible. If your baby simply won't stop crying, Dave will pick her up and pace the house, carrying her in his arms and he will possibly wake up on the couch with a baby slept peacefully against his chest

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal headcanons #pedro pascal headcanon #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x y/n #javier peña x you #javier peña headcanons #javier peña headcanon #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x y/n #dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x y/n #dave york x you #dave york headcanons #dave york headcanon #joel miller headcanons #joel miller headcanon #agent whiskey headcanons #agent whiskey headcanon

[cherry-holmes]

E R E S M Í A | Javier Peña x F!Reader❤️‍🔥

Glimpse of a life with Javier Peña – Chapter 11.5

aka I’m ovulating

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: You and Javier have funniest things to do than packing your stuff from your apartment.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Previous chapter

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word count: +1.6k

Warnings: this is pure and complete SMUT. Oral sex (fem receiving). Unprotected P in V sex. Doggy style. A little bit of spanking. Dirty talk. Praise kink. Breeding kink if you squint.

A/N: SO… I’m tryin’ to save my semester here, so I’m having a delay on chapter 12, but since I’m so fuckin’ horny here’s some smut. Hope you like it and stay tuned for chap 12 very soon!!!!

A/N 2: READER DOESNT HAVE PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION. The image of the collage is use just as visual.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You didn't know how did you both ended up on the floor, but you didn't care. You just couldn't think or care about anything else that wasn't his mouth on your pussy. The couch was right there beside you, yet he had you completely naked and whimpering on your apartment's floor.

He was so concentrated down there, licking your core, drinking every trace that might remain of your long gone innocence. Your fingers were between the strands of his hair, your back arched as you tried to cope the devastating pleasure of his touch.

Both of his hands reached to your breasts, massaging them at first and then his fingers began to stimulate your nipples, making your cried out louder. The slurping sounds filled the room, along with your voice full of lust calling his name.

"Javi... Javi..." you moan, and you caught his attention, "I... need you... oh, I need you inside... please!"

He stopped and looked up at you, his mustache and chin glistening with your slick. "We don't have condoms," he remembered to you.

"Please, I can take the pill," you insisted, and you could tell by the way his pants seemed to be suffocating him, that it would be easy to convince him.

"Those pills are full of hormones, baby, you know what I think about..." he started, but cut himself when your hand traveled down your body to your wetting folds, touching yourself.

"Don't tell me you don't want this, Javi," your voice was devilish and provocative. "I know you've always wanted to have my pussy dripping with your cum."

"Fuck..." he hissed, eyes darkening as he saw your fingers pleasuring yourself. You were so sensitive, so needy of his cock. "You're gonna kill me, baby," he said as he started to unbutton his jeans.

Your eyes followed his already naked torso, his tanned skin, broad shoulders and his irresistible slutty waist. He was painfully beautiful, manly and all yours. Javier Peña was your man.

"On your fours, baby," he ordered and you obeyed immediately. "Easy, if your ankle hurt just tell me," he said and you nodded as you accommodate yourself for him. His hands caressed your ass, exploring your waist, bending over you to trace a path of kisses along your spine to your shoulders and the back of your neck. You gasped when he spanked your ass, the perfect mix of delicacy and intense that made your pussy soaked with anticipation. "Such a nice ass, bonita," he praised as his fingers parted your folds, searching for your swollen clit to keep you wet. "I love making love to you, baby. You make me cum like no one else," he said, and it was true.

He had been with others, many times, but that was just sex. No attachments, no bonds, no feelings. He never cared about feelings; he thought he would never need them in matters of sex. It was better for him, easier. But you came into his life and changed his perspective. Javier learned that love, passion, and emotional bonds could change the way he enjoyed sex. And he loved sex with you.

His length made its way through the stretch walls of your pussy; gentle as he let you adapt to him. You felt his warm hands and his hairy pelvis against your ass. He bend over again, pushing himself further, making you whimper as you felt your own body trying to embrace his cock. You were sure you'll never get use to its size.

"Look at you, taking my cock so fuckin' good," he praised to your ear, low and raspy voice sending shivers down your body where you clenched your walls around him. He grunted at the sensation. "You're such a bratty, though, begging for my dick," he added, his hands taking your tits, squeezing them so delicious and torturous. "Tell me what you want, baby."

"I-I want you to fill my pussy up, Javi," you answered, almost at the edge of lost every piece of control. You were already surrendering to him, to his desires. "Please, fuck me," your cheeks burned just to hear yourself.

He grinned, straightening up and finding a good position behind you. "As you wish, mi amor."

Javi's hips started thrusting in a slow pace, in and out, the friction giving both of you some relief, but you wanted more. You wanted Javier Peña to ruin you.

"Harder," you whispered sounding more desperate than you expected. He wanted to punish you, play teasing and torture you, but you looked so damn hot on in that position, you ass up for him... so his hands took a new place on your waist, pulling you against him as he pushed harder towards you. "Fuck, like that!"

The skin-to-skin sounds filled the apartment as your mouth emitted the most wonderful sounds of pleasure, whining and quivering with each bucked of his hips.

"Fuck damn it," he groaned roughly as he felt himself reaching your deepest point. Your back arched up as a response to the feeling, it hurt a little bit. "You okay?" He asked, concern filtering through his breathlessly voice, but he didn't stopped completely.

"Mhm," you nodded, "Don't stop, it feels so good," you encouraged him, and he took a second to find another signal of uncomfortably from you. When he didn't, his pace restarted. He angled his hips to push inside deep as he could go, and this time you just cried out with completely pleasure.

As he was making sure he wasn't hurting you, his movements became more confident and then he was fuckin' you like he had never done before. Holding your hips as his thrusts were desperately but right to that sweet point.

"That's what you wanted?" He asked in a sharp breath, words coming out between his panting. "You fuckin' little thing, such a naughty girl." He spanked you, harder than before, and your walls clenching around him.

"Yes, Javi... don't stop, don't you..." words coiled at your throat, sinking in a hole of lust and passion.

He didn't showed mercy as he kept his hungry moves on you, adding some more spanks on your butt-cheeks, nasty words praising you and your body. His hands were all over your butt, the soft flesh of your tummy, his hands cupping your pussy.

Suddenly, his arms wrapped around your torso, pulling you up and against his warm chest, holding you in a tight embrace. You sat on his lap, legs parted on each side of his, both kneeling as he buried himself deeply into you. One of his hands cupped one of your breasts roughly, while the other kept you still, his breath quivering in your ear as your moans escaped as broken sobs.

"Eres mía, sólo mía," he sighed with pleasure, his lips on your neck and shoulders as he traced soft wet kisses, some of them you knew would left a mark. "Te amo," he added at the time his hand left your breast to find your clit, tracing soft circles, "y amo tus labios, tu coñito, tus ojos, tus tetas... todo, todo lo que es mío."

You were entangled in sensations, thoughts full of love and lust, emitting incoherent moans. Your hips moved almost of their own volition, tracing circles on him as his fingers traced circles on your sensitive clit. You felt a river of sticky slick running down your core to his dick and balls. "You want more?" He asked and you could heard him grinning when you nodded, "Wanna have your sweet, tight, little cunt full of my fuckin' cum?" He asked, but this time when you nodded, he tightened his grip on your body and ordered you with a mandatory voice, "Say it, I wanna hear you."

"Ye-yes," you managed to say.

"Yes what?" He pushed.

"I want your cum dripping out my pussy, Javi, please, I want you to cum inside," your voice quivered, your cheeks burned and his balls shuddered at your words.

“Shit,” he groaned. Then, his arms released you, pulling back but still very inside of you. “Bounce on it, then, make cum,” he demanded.

Your hands went to the floor, founding a better position so you could start moving. Your hips went up and down, back and forth as you whimpered and whined at the overwhelming feeling.

Javier was mesmerized by the way your ass bounced, his big cock disappearing inside of you and coming out soaked with your honey. He was moaning, praising you, grunting as he felt his release coming closer. You were very close too.

“Ah! Ah! Javi… I’m gonna cum…” you warned him, and he took your hips to help you fastened your movements as he he growled full of lust and passion.

“Keep going, just like that, I’m coming, baby.”

Javier cum inside of you with a loud groan, eyes shut and his heavy weight curling over you. And when you felt your pussy filling with his thick, warm load, you came as your body convulsed under his. You could perfectly feel his cock twitching inside as both of your releases came out of you cunt, over the floor.

“You alright?” He whispered after a few moments, still trying to recover his breath.

“Yeah,” you answered, cock drunk, not wanting him to came out of you. “That was… awesome.”

“I know,” he agreed, his lips placing kisses on your back as he finally came out.

When you tried to climb to the couch, he took you by your waist, pulling you back to him. You laughed and sat on his bare lap, over his still wet, half-hard cock. His arms wrapped around you once more, his lips on your mouth to share a passionate kiss. His fingers traced a soft circles on your legs, and your fingers went to his hair to pull him closer.

You still have a lot of stuff to packed to officially moved to his place, but when his fingers found the way to your core filled of himself, you couldn’t say no.

CHAPTER 12

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