#javi g x you

[morallyinept]

Slow - A Javi Gutierrez One Shot

'Slow, slow. Slow as you can go. So I can feel all I want to know. Slow, slow. I go with your flow. Let the world keep it's carnival pace. I'd prefer to look into your beautiful face...' - Slow, Depeche Mode

Summary: Javi just wants to take it slow. Really slow. Because, that's how he likes it.

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub. However, Reader speaks and understands Spanish.)

Word Count: 3.4k-ish

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️ “It's the emergence, of.” 

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.  

Explicit: Established relationship/unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/oral M & F receiving/lots of sensuality/multiple orgasms/making love/Javi completely loving on you, and being completely in love with you... 🫠

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned. 

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: This was inspired by my result of this tag game and therefore I had to write it... first time writing for gorgeous Javi G too! 😍 There's lots of Javi & Reader conversing in Spanish so I've provided translations as you go.

MAIN MASTERLIST | JAVI GUTIERREZ MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

His fascination with your mouth borders on an unbridled obsession. 

It’s the curve of your lips, a subtle intoxicating lilt that holds him captivated in your thrall. You have him bewitched.

In the quiet moments of the pleasant fracas swirling around him, he finds himself entranced by the way your mouth quirks into a beaming smile, a sight that could brighten even the dullest day to fall out of the sky onto his head of silken curls.

In the sultry Mallorcan night, the heat hangs in the air like a velvet cocoon. The villa, perched on the cliffs overlooking the coastline, catches the sea breeze that carries with it the intoxicating scent of salt and blooming bougainvillaea.

The moon, a radiant slither of its full naked orb, casts a silvery glow on the Mediterranean waters, turning the waves into a ripple of shimmering diamond refractions.

The night air is filled with the chorus of chattering cicadas, their rhythmic hum a soundtrack to the nocturnal symphonies of the night.

From the cliffs, the lights of coastal towns twinkle in the distance, creating a mesmerising panorama against the dark canvas of the night sky.

The event bears the imprint of both newly conceived business connections and broader social interactions. Laughter echoes against the backdrop of the sea, mingling with the distant sounds of the waves crashing against the cliffs on which the luxurious villa, you and Javi call home, rests on.

But Javi’s interest tonight is piqued on something other than the façade of the glitz that comes with the party uniting his independent business venture away from a life shadowed by once secretly organised crime.

Shunning his duties as an amiable host this evening, he’s distracted by you and your lips. 

He loves the way your glazed lips feel on the pads of his fingertips; a soft and tender invitation to place gentle smooches on them that speaks the volumes of your love for him without uttering a single word.

The thought of your shared, deep kisses linger in his mind like a sweet aftertaste; a memory he can savour throughout the minutes of separation from you by his side.

He misses the cadence of your voice already as he sees your mouth converse with his new associates.

Whether you whisper sweet, riled nothings in the height of hedonistic delirium in his ear, or share heartfelt sentiments doing mundane things, each syllable carries the warmth of your unwavering connection.

Javi’s fixation on your mouth is raw and primal, an intense craving that runs deeper than words. The way your lips move, whether in a smirk or a pouted smile, stirs a want, a need, within him.

It’s as if your mouth holds a magnetic pull, daring him to explore its depths with a hunger that borders on illicit infatuation.

He thinks about how they... suck.

In the heat of passion, he revels in the brand of your lips, each kiss leaving a mark on his senses and skin alike where the lines blur between careful restraint and reckless abandon.

It’s a visceral experience, one that leaves him yearning for more, addicted to the electrifying sensation of your mouths colliding frantically.

Sipping on cool champagne from across the soiree, Javi watches you with a silent appreciation and a growing warmth traversing his bloodstream, gathering at the end of his painfully hardening cock. 

The soft glow of the outdoor lights play on your soft features, and every movement seems to be in some unspoken, yet choreographed, harmony with the effervescent bubbles twirling in his glass.

His coffee bean eyes are fixated on you within the balmy shadows, and as you speak with those around you, he can't help but be mesmerised by the way your mouth moves.

He marvels at the way your laughter spills from your lips like the finest vintage wine, filling him up with a contagious yet unquenchable thirst; a storm in his head that only settles when you’re near.

He looks at you, a dissected hunger spilling out over his features. He’s known obsession before, but not like this.

This burns, this desire leaves him on his knees, begging at the altar of you for more; the focal point in the gallery of his yearning, to taste those lips and let them roam unbidden across his body once more. 

In the midst of the vibrant party, he finds himself helplessly ensnared by the conspiring allure of you. Your laughter echoes through him like a haunting melody, drawing his gaze as you effortlessly charm those around you into willful subjugation.

His chest swells with pride, knowing that you’re the one who holds the spotlight in his once complicated life. You’re the one he can be unabashed and silly with.

That yours is the pair of lips he can enjoy as they wrap so delectably around his cock.

Javi holds in an audible groan at the memory of you doing just that, only hours ago. 

Leaving the home of his arms to ready yourself for the party, he'd watched you. An arm behind his head, splayed naked on the bed, engrossed as you ran the velvety lipstick over your lips in the mirror.

You watched, just as enraptured as he, through the glass reflection as he fucked his fist languidly whilst you did it.

You blotted your lipstick on his lower hip, a kiss print tattoo staining his skin that only you both know is there.

Now, as you move through the crowd, a magnetic force tugs at his attention. The gentle swish of the silk of your flaxen dress reveals a slip of thigh skin to tantalise him further.

The way your eyes sparkle at him with excitement - each detail of your smile etches into his consciousness, carves deep into the steeple of his bones. 

In the throes of the party, he feels like a mere spectator witnessing the enchanting performance of the woman he calls his amor.

As your eyes meet across the crowded space, a spark ignites creating an electric current that surges between you both. You feel it immediately whenever he looks at you like this, that bolt down your spine brandishing molten and hot into your core.

How his dark eyes drink you in over the tip of his champagne glass; a contained predator under the guise of a hapless romantic, sizing up his prey.

How he wanders over your body with an unapologetic, insatiable smirk, leaving a slew of prickles to flood all over it; nipples tightening under the flimsy silk for all to see, but only for him to taste.

You both know what he does to you. What you do to each other, even without physical touch. He knows how wet you are for him under that dress right now.

You know how hard he his inside of his pants right now.

Amidst the party's chaos, your mutual pining silence becomes loud; gazes locked with an intensity that screams of a shared hunger for one another. A flutter in his chest, a quickened pulse throbbing between your legs; the visceral responses to the tether that pulls tight between you ready to snap.

You lick your lips, the subtle swipe of your wet tongue over the scarlet of them, and it breaks all of his composure in an instant. 

Glass discarded blindly on the table behind him, Javi makes his way towards you. 

In whispered conversations beneath the shimmering string lights, your entwined arms and words carry the weight of acute longing - a pace of deliberately denied pleasure. 

“See something you like, Javi?” You smile into the graze of his softly bearded cheek and plant a delicate kiss on it. 

"Mi amor," he whispers, his voice a soft serenade. "Estás radiante esta noche, más hermosa que nunca." (My love, you are radiant tonight, more beautiful than ever.)

He presses his forehead against yours, soft silken curls spilling down his temples.

“You look so good in this colour.” His fingers brush down the front of your dress, leaving devastation in their wake.

You smile into him sweetly, at the compliment he adorns you with. It’s worth more than any gold he's wrapped around your finger.

Your digits slide up and down the expensive lapels of his shimmery suit jacket. A colour like the depths of a lush forest after a gentle rain that serves to enhance the tan on his face, and he’s never looked more beautiful.

You clutch him closer, breathing him in; a blend of aromatic lavender, spicy cardamom and a burst of citrus bergamot blends on his skin as you run your nose behind his ear.

His hands find a home snug around your lower back, stroking the bare skin there your dress dares to reveal, and gently crushing you closer against him.

It’s a relentless pursuit, an unending loop of wanting more - more of your laughter to gorge upon, more of your warmth, more of the intoxicating essence that is uniquely you.

More of those lips as they draw near and he can feel your warm breath from them ghosting upon his mouth. 

Leaning in, he grazes them against his own and asks in a low, intimate tone, "¿Podemos escaparnos por un momento, mi amor?" (Can we slip away for a moment, my love?) 

The words carry a sense of biting urgency and crackles with something more than a whispered clandestine secret to escape the decadent banality around you. 

As if caught in the trance of a feverish reverie, the party seems to melt away, replaced by the dreamscape of your bedroom where time moves differently and the heat of the Spanish climate sticks to your skin further, despite the open doors on the balcony.

The linen curtains billow in the breeze welcoming you both in. The flickering lights from the party below cast ethereal shadows in the bedroom, and the muted sounds of the revellers become a distant melody as Javi finally attaches himself to your succulent lips, stumbling in the doorway with you. 

In this fever dream, desire is palpable, a desecration of any innocence as he pushes the door shut behind him with the sole of his Gucci loafer, and he’s above your body on the kingdom of your shared bed, those cascading chocolate waves falling into your face. 

The siren of the night calls, a constant craving, an ache that only subsides when you’re entangled in each other's arms. And yet it still feels as though it'll never be absolved.

He draws his fingertips around the circumference of your silk covered nipples, then up to your lips. He watches in awe as you kiss each of them, your tongue daring to lick around them, sucking them into your mouth. 

"Your mouth,” Javi murmurs, the intensity of his gaze fixated on the wet, pink tongue sliding between the webbing of his fingers. 

He feels you cup him over his pants, the prominent ache becoming unbearable as you squeeze gently.

"Quisiera tomárnoslo con calma esta noche." (I want us to take it slow tonight.)

“Javi…” You groan in protest as he runs his wet fingers over your crown and presses himself against you, making you feel the hardness of him at your centre. 

"Lento... realmente lento, mi amor. Quiero tomarme mi dulce tiempo contigo." (Slow... really slow, my love. I want to take my sweet time with you.)

“Javi, por favor…” You whine, trying to grind against him. (Javi, please…)

“Quiero explorarte a fondo... hacerte anhelar que esto dure para siempre.” (I want to explore you thoroughly... make you long for this to last forever.)

Sucked into the plush oasis of his mouth, tongue swiping tantalising tracks across your lips, your fingers rake into his curls as you tug. A gritty whine of longing claws its way from deep within him; a raw and primal sound that conjoins the ache in his chest and the incessant throbbing in his cock.

It’s a guttural utterance, a manifestation of the unspoken cravings that sear red hot through his veins. 

"Entrégame todo tu amor, Javi.” (Give me all of your love, Javi.) You gasp as you come up for air. 

You push his jacket from his broad shoulders, fingers prying at buttons down the linen shirt to get to the prize of golden skin underneath. The hem of your pale honey silk is pushed up to your waist as his fingers stroke over your thighs. 

A slew of kisses make steamed tracks on your collarbone, a hungry mouth trailing over your bare breasts as he releases them. Hard nipples are sucked into warm, wet flesh as you whine and gasp.

He buries himself between your thighs, lips sucking, tongue fucking into you gently, as you twist your fingers into his scalp and pant for more. 

“Javi!”

He hears you lament his name over and over, lost in the depths of the pleasure from his mouth. He offers you a tether, fingers slipped into your cunt and mouth alike as he looks up at you, tongue running around your pulsing clit. 

The bedroom fills with sunlight in the ripe darkness of the night - you glow for him, as bright as your dress, brighter than the sun.

He watches you come as he licks and sucks you through it; fingers pushing into your craving orifices deeper, coated in saliva and slick.

Javi discards his pants, kiss print still visible from your lips. Crawling up your body gloriously naked, sculpted in the arms and shoulders, you welcome him in with open, adoring arms and legs.

Those first few strokes, when he enters you, feels like the first time all over again. Like he’s died and been reborn anew. Put back together again, sewn up with glittered strings.

He slows right down, dragging his thick cock almost all the way out, before pushing back in slower than before. 

You groan, low and lingering, entombed in your wanting. Feeling every hilt and swollen ridge of him.

“You feel me like this, mi amor?” His nose nuzzles at your neck, lips pressing kisses into the column of your throat. “¿Tienes idea de lo jodidamente hermosa que estás en este momento?" (Do you have any idea how fucking beautiful you are right now?)

His fingers slip down your stomach, circling over your clit as you whine for more. 

He stops only to kiss you, losing himself in the richness of your taste; his cock plunged in deep and feeling you clench and rib around him. 

“Slow,” Javi whispers.

“Slow,” you whisper back. 

He glances down between your bodies to keenly observe the root of your connection; watching the way he disappears fully into you, hips crushed against yours. 

Watching the way you gnaw and bite on your bottom lip that he just has to have. Taking it between his teeth, he sucks it, sweet nips, tongue sliding into your mouth to gorge on you further.

The grind is deep, a languid pendulum of his hips back and forth. You grasp at his fingers, entwining them as he pulls you out of yourself.

Slow, unhurried strokes so you feel it all; lingering in the pooling light of your orgasms, never letting them diminish, always keeping you out of the dark. 

Kisses click down your jaw, soft grazes of his facial hair feels like chiffon against your skin. Hands stroking, squeezing, full of you as he fills you full of his hard, thick love. 

Soon your mouth craves the taste of him and you take him; lips clamped around his length as you suck him down into the back of your throat, tasting your sweet slick that coats him.

Nose pressed against the soft, downy hairs at the base of him, and his fingers curl around tendrils of your hair as you suck.

Javi gulps, a gasp strangled in his throat somewhere cracking out of him as he watches you annihilate him with those lips. 

He pulls your face up to him, kissing you so desperately and tasting his own salt on them. He feels you circling, with just the tip of your forefinger and thumb, trailing delicately up his shaft and to the head that’s warm and glistening.

You rub your thumb over that tiny oozing slit and feel him twitch and buckle as he groans - that deep, guttural sound when a man finds his pleasure.

"Soy completamente tuyo." (I am all yours.) He rasps, losing everything he is in an instant with a simple flick of your tongue.

You kiss and mouth over his cock gently, trailing the swollen, wet head over your lips as though re-applying your favourite lipstick.

He grunts, neck craned with his head watching and relishing that moment to come when you’ll slip him into your throat again. 

"Oh si, si, si..." he hisses encouragingly. Little breaths of "fuck... fuck... fuck..." puff out of him on ragged whispers as he watches your hungry lips devouring him slowly.

As slow as you can go. 

You climb up him as he sits upright; broad, muscular arms straining with the weight of him.

“Necesito de ti, Javi.” (I need you, Javi.) You shudder. 

You sink down on him without hesitation, gasping with a tremor as he fills you up. 

“Slow,” he whispers.

“Slow,” you whisper back. 

A gentle swivel and flex of your hips, back shining with sweat as you rock into that sweet, heady rhythm of how he likes it, how he wants this to last.

He steers you down onto him, feeling you shake down his length as he fills you up slowly, deliberately to make you feel him.

He places his palm flat on your lower tummy increasing the pressure as you arch back and you can feel the delicious weight of it as he furrows deep inside of you.

A few strokes of your clit with his thumb and you're falling apart.

“Ah si, Javi…” You wail. 

He licks into your mouth as you cry out for him, tasting those lips once more. Sucking on the bottom as he gives you all of him. 

He runs his nose across your throat and it makes him shudder in that way he does when he inhales your scent into his bloodstream. When he shifts his body weight slightly, you can feel exactly what it does to him as he hits your spot and you rile his name.

Outside, muted star trails smear across the night’s sky above the ocean. In here, in the sheets with Javi, it’s all slowed down to heavy panting breaths, touches that linger and sear into the layers of your skin as they crisp and unfurl.

Burning you up from the inside. Teeth bite into your tongue to mute the crescendoing whines and moans.

He whispers sweetly comforting spiels in your ear as he's deeper right now than he’s ever been. Buried to the absolute hilt inside of you, and the slightest movement makes you gasp and clench and fist those sheets in heady defiance.

And yet he still keeps you grounded as he swells and stretches you out. Locked in a silent gasp, your mouth open, your hands slowly release their death grip on the sheets and he kisses your shoulder in a mark of respect and praise as you burst around him; stardust and diamond fragments filling the air as he inhales you in.

Javi moves slowly, backs out a little and you whine at the feel of less of him, but he's back inside you in a slow, deep glide, bringing you full of him again.

And again. And again.

He clamps his fingers around your nipples as you're on the cusp once more, knowing how much you love it. 

“Mírame… Eres tan hermosa. (Look at me… You’re so beautiful.) How did I get so lucky?” He utters in spellbound disbelief.

You’re coming again; body clenching and shuddering, pussy squeezing around his cock, and each time he can barely hold on himself.

He pulls them out of you, one after another to bear witness to each one being born. The gentle weight of him on top of you, the softness of his warm, tanned skin, the scent of his cologne and the words he says sends you over the edge. 

The only time Javi speeds up is when he draws closer to his own finish, pumping his hips into you as he whimpers and has his turn to shake in your arms.

Brow furrowing, dark eyes watery, he strains and gasps. 

“Te amo muchísimo, nunca dejaré de amarte…” (I love you so much, I’ll never stop loving you...) He utters as you kill him. 

"Nunca, nunca, nunca..." (Never, never, never...) You say smiling into his mouth. “Javi, come for me,” you groan.

“Si, mi vida…” he pants. “I’m coming for you… fuuuuuck!”  He growls into your ear.

You come with him as he empties with a shudder, his forehead crushed into yours, fingers knotted in your scalp, your nails buried into his back skin.

He kisses you, the taste of salt and faded bubbles wash over your tongues.

He stays inside you, connected and drenched in seeping slick and spend as he kisses your lips - those lips that could make him leap off the cliffs to his death. 

Those lips that are divine inspiration.

"¿Tenemos que volver a la fiesta?" (Do we have to go back to the party?) You ask dreamily as he kisses over your breasts and shoulders repeatedly, slowly.

"No, podemos quedarnos aquí, mi amor." (No, we can stay here, my darling.) He says into gluttonous mouthfuls of your skin. "Además, aún no he terminado de tomarme mi tiempo contigo..." (Besides, I haven't finished taking my time with you yet...)

You smile into his crown and he looks up at you; soft chocolate curls framing his buoyant face. 

“Slow.” You say.

“Slow.” Javi agrees. “Así es como me gusta.” (That's how I like it.)

Thank you so much for reading, I really hope you enjoyed going slow with Javi G. As always, I would love to hear your thoughts, and would always appreciate a re-blog if you enjoyed what you just read. 🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST | JAVI GUTIERREZ MASTERLIST

#pedro pascal x reader #javi gutierrez x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #javi gutierrez #tuwomt #javi g x reader #javi g smut #javi g fluff #javi g x you #javi gutierrez x you #the unbearable weight of massive talent #jett's writing

[kiwisbell]

Diamante [javi gutierrez]

You and Javi really, really love each other.

my masterlist!

pairing: javi g x f!reader

tags and warnings: no plot just smut and fluff, tooth-rotting sweetness from our javi, save a horse ride a movie star, oral sex (m and f receiving), unprotected sex (you know the drill), sex in a limo, face-fucking, slightly sub!javi, spanish pet names, pure unadulterated fluff, and lots of fuckin', javi and reader are sickeningly in love, journalist!reader, eat (out) the rich, getting caught during sex

word count: ~ 7.3k

javi g is the only man and i love him dearly. please enjoy <33

DIAMANTE

There's never been a luckier son of a bitch than Javi G. 

He knows it for a fact. Sure, he's had career troubles (who hasn't?) and a couple life-threatening encounters, but if a man has to face down his cousin's drug cartel to wake up next to the most beautiful woman in the world every single day... 

Yeah. He's lucky as shit. 

The sunlight slips through the window and turns your skin golden. Your brow is smoothed over and your lips parted, your face a field of peace. You're naked from your marathon of sex last night, and the planes of your body are so smooth, so enticing, that Javi's mouth is on you before he's fully awake. He can't help it; his body seeks your warmth; he loves the heat of your skin and the way you softly squirm in your sleep as his lips make a path down your body. 

He cannot fucking believe he found you. 

Alone at the bar during his own birthday party, you walked right up to him and slid a martini under his nose. "Do you care to comment on the recent rumours of an illicit drug trade between Spain and the United States, Señor Gutierrez?"

Javi swallowed hard. Next to him was a beautiful woman he'd never seen before, wrapped in a tight black dress and staring at him with a gleaming smile. You were a vision sent from heaven, and his mouth had gone dry as cotton. 

You watched him with amusement in your eyes, and he noticed a small recording device on the bar top. 

It was then he realised he should be speaking. 

"The… what?"

Once you clarified patiently, he told you he didn't know a thing about such deals (it was the truth, so far as he let his cousin Lucas handle the business), and you just smiled like you already knew. Certainly, Javi was the figurehead: he had the looks, the air of danger about him, enough money to make people like him and fear him. It was smart, and it was all a ruse—one that didn’t seem to fool you for a moment.

You were stunning. A true vision. Your nails were perfectly manicured and your skin so smooth, hair so soft. You looked like you'd never been in a rough part of town, much less a war zone. 

He would find out later how wrong that impression was. 

Javi wanted to shield you from all the horrific things he'd seen. He wanted to push you into his car and drive you far away from the prying eyes of Lucas's men. You didn't deserve to be caught in all of this. A diamond cut from coal, something to cherish.

But you seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. You leaned in close, your breath minty and touched with spiced rum, and placed a hand over his. "He's a dangerous man, Señor Gutierrez," you whispered. "And you're too good for all of it."

His breath left him. His eyes found yours once more, and it took him a moment to conjure the words. "How do you know what I am?"

"I know a lot about you." Your eyes shone with compassion. "Probably why I already like you so much."

He did not want to fuck this up. He would not fuck this up. 

That is, until he let his mouth do all the work. 

"Can I take you to dinner?" he blurted out. 

You sat back as a grin overtook your face. With a swift flick of your fingers, you turned the recorder off. "I can't use any of this," you said with a huff. 

Javi leaned forward this time. "I'll give you anything you want."

"Then how about we start with a drink," you said, "and you can tell me all about that movie I know you're writing."

That was five years ago. It took him six months to get you to agree to go on a date. Between your travelling, his travelling, and your insatiable desire to put yourself in danger at all times for the right story, you and Javi could never work. After the first date (a steakhouse, then a boat ride, then stargazing, and then and then and then until you and he were stumbling through his home, knocking everything over until you reached his bedroom and he spread you out, made you scream with pleasure), there was nothing you could possibly do to keep yourself away from him. You were Javi's as he was yours: instantly, inextricably, and for the rest of your fucking lives. 

The problem was keeping it secret. Five years of hiding, sneaking around, receding into dark corners and safe houses, and making time wherever you could find it. It was all worth it, a hundred times over, to keep you safe, but he wanted to show you off—give you the world, give you the publicity you deserved, show you off in your pretty dresses and let the world know you had him wrapped around your finger. 

You had given him so much shit for facing down Lucas by himself. You waited for him all day in the safe house outside Mallorca, only to chew him out for twenty minutes straight when he arrived, bleeding from the arm but beaming wide. He was used to your anger; when it rose, you could go on for as long as you had air in your lungs. He knew you weren't truly mad at him. You just had to let it go. Once it was out of your system, you threw yourself at him and kissed him until you were both breathless. "Now you know how I feel," he muttered against your mouth. "My dangerous girl."

"Don't push your luck," you snapped, going right back in to devour him once more. 

"You love me?" he whispered into your mouth. 

Your eyes met his when you pulled back and he watched them gleam with admiration. "I love you."

Now that he doesn't have to hide, he flaunts you every fucking second of every goddamn day. 

You blink awake when you feel pressure between your legs. "Javi," you gasp at the sight of his messy hair beneath the bed sheet. 

Javi grins up at you from between your legs, resting his head on your thigh. His eyes are like a puppy's, wide and eager. "Hi."

"Hi," you laugh, your head falling back against the pillow. "What time is it?"

"It's Sunday. Time doesn't matter on Sundays. Can I taste you, mi cielo?"

You have to hand it to him: Javi knows what he wants. It's hard to consolidate your amusement and arousal as he squeezes your flesh, kneads you like he's getting out all his stress, spreading your thighs wide enough for him to lie comfortably between them. "You don't want breakfast first?" you coo, threading your fingers through his hair while he uses you like a pillow. 

On any other day, breakfast could be brought to your room by the chefs at a moment's notice, or you and Javi could cook together (well, you could cook while he distracts you by touching you all over). But he's right: today's Sunday, the chefs don't work, and you're so fucking happy here. Here, in your giant bed, in your giant bedroom, where you're the only two people in the world. 

You shriek with laughter when Javi, kissing his way up your belly, brushes his fingers up your sides. "Tickles!" you manage to gasp. 

Javi continues his work, holding onto your hips while he makes it to your breasts. Your nipples are perky in the cool morning air, and Javi can't resist taking one into his mouth. "Oh," you sigh, "you're unbelievable."

He just hums, sending a shockwave down your spine. “You're so beautiful."

You smile tiredly, brushing your hand through his soft hair. "Look who's talking," you say, voice groggy with sleep. "My handsome man."

He preens under your attention, his need to please you so desperate it makes him shiver with excitement when he ducks his head and bites down on the inside of your thigh. You yelp, then laugh, your voice like bells in his head. "Too early," you say weakly. 

"Mi diamante, I wanna make you feel good," he says, voice pitching up in a whine. "Te amo. Please."

His fingers squeeze your thighs, his pleading brown eyes craving your consent, pupils dark with arousal, and you're wide awake, nodding your head and brushing your thumb across his cheek. "Te amo," you say softly. "My love. Make me feel good."

He's so eager it fills your chest with warmth. His big hands are curled around your thighs to keep you still as he flattens his tongue between your folds and licks up your slit. He knows your body so well that he laughs when your hips jerk up to meet his mouth. "Patience, mi cielo ," he mumbles, flicking his tongue against your clit.

It's you in charge of things around here, and he knows it. He loves it, in fact. It makes him so hot with need, so hard he grinds his hips against the mattress for relief when you grab hold of his hair and beg, "More, Javi. Please, honey."

"'M going to give you more," he says, diving back in and licking deep inside you, tasting your wetness and latching onto your clit. You let your head fall back when a weak moan rips from your throat, but you want to watch him while he eats you out. Lifting your head back up, you see him with his eyes closed, fingers digging into you so hard they'll leave bruises, groans spilling from his mouth like he's the one lost in pleasure. It makes you whimper his name, and he opens his eyes to meet yours as he continues sucking at your clit. 

“S’good,” you tell him, writhing so badly he snakes one hand up to press down on your belly. “So gooood... Oh! Javi—fuck!”

You're loud in bed, and so is Javi, and you both annoy the housekeepers to no end. You hang a DO NOT DISTURB sign on the door from dusk until noon each day, just in case. Still, it's hard to believe they don't hear the noises coming from your bedroom every night. Javi signs their cheques, so they never say a word.

He continues alternating between sucking and lapping up your arousal with his expert tongue while you cry out his name like a chant. His own moans create delicious vibrations up your centre as he devours you like he's eating his last meal. “Javi, I'm going to… I’m—” He wiggles his tongue back and forth across your clit and you're bursting, soaking his tongue and slapping your hand over your mouth to drown your cries. 

He reaches up and grabs your wrist. "Let me hear you," he mutters, licking everywhere but your clit to keep from overstimulating you as you come down from your high. You're sighing and groaning, your body melting into the mattress as your bones deflate. You feel like you're floating.

He's crawling back up your body and pressing gentle kisses to your neck. You feel his erection on your belly, heavy and leaking, but he's paying no mind to the fact he's hard as rock. He's just lavishing attention on you. Javi never takes, just gives and gives and gives. While he seems to take just as much pleasure from making you come as you do, it feels so good to make him happy, to make him orgasm, watching his beautiful face scrunch up when he spills down your throat, hearing him ramble away in Spanish when you're taking him so well, tan bueno . He doesn't ask for a thing, but you love to give and give as much as he will let you. 

That said, his pretty brown eyes are gleaming with a plea. "One more?" he begs, sliding a hand up your side, making you shiver. "Can I have one more?"

You grin up at him, pushing his damp hair back from his face. It's curling around his neck and forehead from the sweat, and he looks as fucked as you feel. "Breakfast," you say, tipping your head up to capture his mouth. "And then I'll give you what you need, baby." 

He growls into your mouth. "Can't wait to taste you again, mi cielo. Need it."

Smirking, you reach between your bodies and squeeze the base of his cock. He sucks in a breath, bucking against you, a whine leaving his mouth. “That's not what I meant, my love. I'm going to give you what you need.”

His forehead drops to yours. “I just need you, my love.”

You slide your hands up his shoulders, admiring the smooth, hard muscles, and cup his face. "My sweet boy.” He grins, nudging his strong nose against yours. “Pick out my clothes for today, okay? Anything you want. We’ll go out, do something.”

His eyes are bright with eagerness. "Anything?"

You laugh. "It's gotta cover my ass, baby. We might be in public."

"But it's such a beautiful ass," he says, rolling you over so you're on your stomach, sprawled out under him as he crawls down your body and makes a point of his statement by biting into the flesh of your right cheek.

You yelp. “Javi!”

He lands a smack to your ass. You wiggle it slightly, loving the way his eyes darken until the pupils are large enough to swallow his irises. "Want everyone else looking at it? Want them all to see?"

He huffs, his head falling onto your ass like it's a pillow. “Fuck. I'm sorry, mi diamante . I'm putting you in a burlap sack. I want you all to myself.”

He makes his way back up toward you at your gentle urging, kissing all the way, until you can gather him in your arms again. 

You hum softly, resting your head right where his heart is. "I'm all yours, my love. Right where I wanna be." Tracing your finger around a freckle on his left pectoral, you add, "And I'll look just as hot in a burlap sack."

Javi chuckles, kissing your head. "I know, darling."

~

"Javi?"

His voice drifts from the bedroom. "¿Sí?"

You smirk, knowing what's about to come. "Can you zip me up?"

The instant noise of footsteps makes you laugh, and Javi's right behind you, his gaze hungry as it lands on your bare back. His hands settle at your hips. "Muy hermosa ..." The zipper begins to slide downward until it catches at the small of your back. “Everybody will be looking at you.”

You say his name through an exasperated laugh. "Zip me up, not down."

But he's got his mouth at your shoulder, squeezing your hip. "You're so soft," he mumbles. "This dress is beautiful."

"Made the right choice," you hum, digging your fingers into his locks when he hits a sweet spot at your throat. "Javi, baby, we'll be late."

"We can go anywhere we want, any time we want." His hand slithers around the waist and presses on your belly, pulling you against him. "We're never late. Everyone else is early."

Your head falls back against his shoulder when he slides the baby blue dress (he bought it for you because it matched one of his best suits) down your body and leaves you back at square one. "Your logic"—you swallow a groan when his fingers tease your nipples—"is fallible."

"Big words," he muses, "my little reporter. Want to make you forget them all."

"My hair will be all messy because you can't keep it in your—ah!" You gasp when his fingers find your clit. You shudder and collapse against the countertop, bracing your hands there to keep yourself from face-planting. "Mmm," you keen, arching your back against him. You can see one another in the mirror, and your eyes are half-closed. His are enraptured with the way you grind against his fingers. "Fuck… oh, fuck , Javi.”

Javi reaches down to unbuckle his belt, but you're spinning around and dropping to your knees before he can get his pants down. You look up at him through your lashes, freshly painted with mascara, and watch his mouth drop, one hand clutching the sink. "Let me," you whisper. 

" Sí, sí ," he says, nodding eagerly, murmuring over and over. You slide his Cartier belt right out of the loops and drape it around your neck. Next come the button and zipper, then you're dropping his pants low enough to palm him over his boxers. Javi sucks in a breath through his teeth. Your mouth waters at the sight of the hair trailing down to his erection, and you nuzzle your face against him, hands gripping his thick thighs, your tongue slipping out to lick up his length over his underwear. Javi's moan melts you. "I… I…”

"Use your words, baby," you tell him. "They don't have to be big ones."

" Por favor ," he manages. " Por favor, mi cielo ... Please keep going."

You smile up at him. "You want to fuck my mouth, handsome?"

You aren't sure if he even heard you because he's gone silent. But his entire body stiffens, his cock twitches under your cheek, and he squeezes his eyes shut. “Fuck.”

"I want you to," you say, squeezing him again. "You want it too, right, sweetheart?" Seemingly unable to speak when you're touching him like this, he nods. "Good boy. You wouldn't deny your girl when she needs to taste you, would you?”

"No, no, no." He's blind with desire, dripping precum, the grey of his boxers darkening. "No, don't want that. Want you to..."

"Words, my love."

"Want to—to fuck your mouth."

Your heart swells for him. "That's it, honey. I'll squeeze your thigh like this if you need me to stop, okay?" Another nod. "I love you, Javi."

" Te amo, te amo ," he whimpers, his hand cradling your head. You're taking him out of his boxers and starting slow, letting your spit fall on his shaft and moving your hand up and down the length of him. He's so keen it makes you ache, but he stops himself from bucking his hips, wanting you to take over. And you do. 

You take your time licking at the tip, making him whine with impatience. When you flatten your tongue against the underside of his shaft and lock eyes with him, his are watery. "Relax," you tell him, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip. "I'll be good to you. Okay?"

"Always good to me," he manages with a breathy laugh. 

You settle your lips around his head and teasingly flick out your tongue along the vein on his shaft. He shudders under your grip. “Shit.”

You hum around him and guide his hand to your hair. Use me , your eyes tell him. He's always reluctant to take you like this, and his eyes glitter with lust-addled hesitance. But slowly, gently, he cradles your head and pushes his hips forward until your nose is nestled in the hair at the base of his cock. He’s warm and heavy on your tongue. You hollow your cheeks, relishing his taste, and he groans. “Are you okay?” he manages. You just blink slowly up at him, eyes watering, makeup smearing. Keep going .

He begins a languid rhythm, your throat suctioning around his length as he thrusts his cock down your throat, using your mouth to pleasure himself. 

At some point, his eyes shutter closed, his mouth falls open, and he stops treating you like he's afraid to hurt you. He loses himself inside your hot, wet mouth, tangling his fingers in your hair and holding you on his dick, your tongue slipping out again to swirl around the head. He makes a strangled noise at the same time you choke on him, spit and mascara and lipstick concocting on your face and throat.

He forgets English in his haze, muttering and cursing in Spanish as his hips get sloppy. He's faltering, his grip ironclad around a mess of your hair, and you only get more eager as he gets closer. 

“Tan buena, tan buena, mi amor. Mierda—” He cuts himself off with a high-pitched grunt, slamming his palm down on the vanity top to keep himself from falling over. He comes hard, suddenly, his back pinching up in a hundred twinges of white-hot pleasure. He can only say your name in a cracked whisper as you anchor yourself on his cock and take every drop of his cum down your throat. 

He watches it in awe: his cock pumping hot cum inside your mouth, your hands resting on his hips, your throat expanding with every eager swallow. You're wrecked, covered in makeup and sweat and spit and his cum, dribbling down your lips as he pulls out of you. Your tongue darts out and licks it all up. 

Panting, he swipes his thumb beneath your eyes. “Made you cry,” he says weakly. 

You smile up at him. “Happy tears. Horny tears. Did that feel good, my love?”

“So fucking good, amor.” Javi helps you to your feet and gathers you in his arms. He gently wipes the makeup from your face, even though the sight of your ruined mascara makes his softening cock twitch, back in his pants. “My beautiful woman. Love of my life.”

Your grin widens, your fingers smoothing his damp hair away from his forehead. “You look… really good when you come.”

He knows how that feels. 

~

Javi loves his craft. He loves to write and act and chew on the meat of a really good story. He loves when he gets inspired, scrambling out of the pool despite your pouting and scribbling his ideas down in the notepad he always carries. He likes to write on paper; it’s the undeniable authenticity of a hand, a pen, a once-living tree. 

You watch him as he works, resting your chin on your arm as you kick your feet behind you in the water: his brow scrunching in concentration, his lips moving in tandem with the words he puts to paper. He never scratches out an idea, and fuck, you love him, your heart clenching at the way he sees life as something beautiful, something bright and pulsating with possibility. 

Javi loves his craft. He doesn’t love all the fucking things he has to attend.

Before he had you, he didn’t know how he made it through so many public events. He’s wearing an eggplant-purple suit, a black dress shirt beneath, his Cartier watch and belt and the cuff links you bought him as an anniversary gift—shaped like two golden guns. You’re securing earrings on your lobes, the pearl teardrops he bought you for that same anniversary. 

Your dress is long, black, elegant; it has one long sleeve and leaves your other arm bare, but the long slit up the thigh on the opposite side balances the asymmetry. It’s a masterpiece of tailoring, specially fashioned for you—but that may just be your beauty. It is universal, mutually intelligible among all humans, all species. It is a thing that cannot be misunderstood. He considers it his job to ensure it never is. 

You’ve been eyeing him up. It’s impossible not to be drawn to the broad cut of his shoulders, the tapering of his waist underneath that rich purple jacket. His hair is combed back but the curls at the nape of his neck remain. You admire his ass with little subtlety. This man is yours . He's beautiful, strong, tall, and so good. It overwhelms you, and you can't help but meet him in front of the mirror. Your hands find his shoulders as you kiss the patchy spots in his beard. “You're beautiful,” you whisper into his skin. 

Javi’s pout is award-winning, his cheek falling onto your shoulder. "Mi amor, I'm going to die tonight."

You caress his jawline and grab his chin between your thumb and forefinger to bring his face up to your level. "You're being dramatic,” you tell him, placing a kiss on his miserable mouth. "It's one night."

He looks into your eyes, dead-serious. "I will surely drop from the heart attack all this stress gives me,” he whines. "Will you resuscitate me?"

You nod. "I used to be a lifeguard." 

It's endearing how easily he gets distracted by your mouth. "Mmm."

"Javi," you whisper.

"Mmm?" he says again, still vaguely chasing your lips. 

"If you make it through tonight without dropping dead, I'll let you do whatever you want to me in the limo on the way back home."

It does its job of perking him up. He grins at you and reaches for the zipper at the side of your dress. “Javi,” you say. “After the party. Yeah?”

He sighs through his nose, nestling his tense brow into your temple. “After,” he grumbles. 

You nudge your head to the side and kiss away the frown. “Help me with my shoes?”

His gaze finds you, wide and wanting, and you turn into a puddle at the sight of him so excited to just touch you. You lift your pair of sleek black-strapped heels—Louboutins, part of a PR package from Javi’s last film—and place them into his hands. He drops to one knee while you sit on the bench at the foot of the bed. 

Javi tenderly lifts your ankle, caressing the bone with his thumb, and slides the shoe onto your foot. He's so gentle when he secures the strap, ensuring they don't pinch your skin, asking if it's okay. You're so breathless from his beauty and his tenderness that you can only nod. 

He takes his time lifting the goosebumps on your body as he slides the other shoe on. “Beautiful,” he says, sliding your leg up onto his shoulder and pressing a kiss to your knee, your thigh, indulging in the taste of you, the sweetness of your shampoo, your body wash, your softness. 

He knows there isn't time to make you come, but he wants to. If he had his way, he'd spread you out and fuck you until you scream, but he doesn't have it his way. He needs to attend this party. He needs to schmooze and network and smile. He'll do it with you on his arm. 

“You’ll stay with me?” he says, helping you to your feet. You're on more even ground thanks to the height of your heels. 

You grin at him and tuck a stray curl behind his ear. “Why would I ever want to let you go?”

To the credit of the hosts, the party is certainly lavish. It's a screenwriters’ (or is it screen actors’?) congregation for The Association of Something Or Another, and Javi holds your hand a little tighter when you pass through the threshold into the swanky hotel ballroom. Photos flash in front of a large balloon arch decorated with gold and black and there’s a long banquet table catered with too-small dishes that couldn’t fill up a fish’s stomach. At least everything looks nice.

“Mr. Gutierrez,” says a voice behind the pair of you. It’s producer-actor-schmoozer John Cayman, followed by a mousy publicist, beaming at Javi and clapping him on the shoulder like they’re old friends. “How’ve you been, man?”

Javi frowns a little at the way Cayman hasn’t even greeted you, but you squeeze his hand. “John,” he says politely, giving him a brief smile. “How is your latest project coming?”

Cayman shrugs in a what-can-you-do way. “Got caught up in pre-production after some budgeting issues. Not my department.” 

It’s code for The producer bailed but my pride won’t let me reveal that. His eyes finally slide toward you, a bit dismissive, and he says politely: “How are you…?”

You supply him with your name, courteous as ever, but Javi’s hand is squeezing the circulation out of yours. Cayman certainly isn’t shy about being a dick. Your face and your name are plastered over the Internet all the fucking time, and he has the gall not to recognise you. “Right. Well, you look lovely. Very beautiful.”

“Of course she does,” says Javi, turning his head to kiss your temple. He whispers in your ear: “Eres la cosa más radiante que he visto. Y este tipo es un cabrón (You're the most radiant thing I've ever seen. And this guy is an asshole).”

“Juega bien (Play nice),” you tell him, trying to stifle a giggle.

Javi pouts. “Pero está siendo cruel contigo (But he’s being cruel to you).” 

“This night is about you, Javi,” you whisper, your thumb rubbing circles over the tattoo on his hand. “You don’t have to worry about me. Look—he got bored.”

Javi’s eyes look up from you to sweep the room for Cayman, but he’s shoehorning himself into another conversation by the hors d’oeuvres table. You smile brightly and pluck two champagne flutes from a passing server. “To wishing we were somewhere else,” you toast.

Javi clinks his glass against yours. “The beach,” he muses, crowding you and kissing your cheek. “The sun and the sand. Paris. Venice.” You feel his teeth graze your jaw when he grins. “California. My Hollywood beauty, hmm?”

You lift your brows playfully. “I’m your arm candy, baby.”

Javi hums, tugging you close around the waist. “We’re leaving.”

“We’ve been here for twenty minutes.”

“And it's been long enough. One idiot insulting you is two too many.” 

“I can take insults, Javi,” you tell him. “I interrogate people for a living.”

“Well, I don't have to take it.” He brings your hand to his lips. “We're going home.”

You just laugh and nod. He’s a little more commanding than usual when he takes the flute from your hand, sets them both down on a table nearby, and guides you toward the limousine. You’ve seen it in the way he used to handle the family business: his posture changes, his broad shoulders squaring, and his brow furrows, his twinkling eyes shrouded in a veil. You realise it was always an act, but sometimes he reminds you that he can be a dangerous man. Arousal coils hot and tight in your core as you practically scramble for the limo.

You both slip inside, and once the driver pulls away from the curb, Javi lifts up your ankle onto his lap and begins to slip the shoe off your foot. The privacy screen is closed, so you're both alone. “Beautiful legs,” mutters Javi, officially in his own world now that he gets to act on your promise from earlier. He slides one shoe off and presses a flurry of kisses to your calves. “Beautiful skin.”

“Javi,” you giggle, offering him your other leg, his big hands working deftly at the straps of your heels. He suddenly wraps his arms around your thighs and jerks you toward him until you're on his lap. You squeal, smacking his chest. “Gonna give me whiplash, cowboy.”

“This beautiful body.” Javi buries his face in your neck, his hands around your waist and his fingers splaying over your back, warming the skin beneath your dress. He loves to inhale your scent: your sweet perfume (you've always worn the same Valentino since he bought it for you as a birthday present—before he'd even gotten you to agree to a date), the slight stick of dewy sweat to your neck as your arousal deepens and your dress begins to suffocate you. You're a goddess and he worships your body like it, his strong nose nudging your jaw aside to give him more access to your throat. He bites playfully, making you gasp. 

“So… fucking… beautiful.” He brushes your hair away from your neck so he can kiss it properly, tasting you as much as he wants because you told him he could. You let yourself melt into his touch, your tits squished up against his pressed shirt, tilting your head up to give him more of you. A moan slips from his mouth as he plunders your sweetness. 

He knows precisely every region of your body that will turn you into a puddle of wax. You're warm and sticky and malleable in his arms. Javi’s hand slides up to the back of your head and pulls you down to slot his mouth over yours. It's a slow but deep kiss; he devours you, his tongue sliding against yours, taking and taking while you try to keep up. You've given him permission to do what he likes, and the night has awakened something in your sweet, gentle boyfriend. 

“Javi.” 

He grunts at the sound of your whimper. It's bordering on pathetic, your hips wiggling in his lap, chasing his lips when he pulls away to look at you. You're both panting, and he grins, that twinkle back in his eye as he takes in your flushed chest, your swollen lips. 

“I want to take off your dress,” he says, toying with the zipper at the back of your gown. “And I want you to sit on my cock.”

You can hardly breathe, but your fingers tangle in his hair to ground you as you nod vigorously. His voice is dark and clear and leaves no room for compromise, and it thrills you so terribly that your panties are soaked through by the time he begins to pull down your zipper. 

“Please fuck me, Javi.” 

“I will, mi amor.” His hands slide slowly up your thighs, reverent in his touch, until he reaches your ass and kneads handfuls of it. You unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants and you're salivating with need when you finally reach into his underwear and wrap your hand around his shaft. “Fuck,” he grunts. “Need to be inside you.”

His hands are needy now. They bunch up your dress around your hips and pull you desperately toward him, your cunt sliding up against his thigh. Javi shuffles down on the bench seat eagerly, letting you sit right on his hips. You jerk him slowly, leaning down to kiss him. 

Your hand feels so good around his cock, your scent enveloping him, that Javi can barely keep his mouth against yours. It keeps falling open in pleasure, his eyes squeezing shut. “Shit,” he says at last, forehead falling against yours. “Shit. Let me feel you. ¿Por favor?”

“I said you can do whatever you want, Javi,” you tell him, nibbling on his earlobe. “I meant it.”

He shifts suddenly, pressing you up against him with his hand on your back and using his other to guide his cock to your entrance, your panties shoved hastily to the side. Your cunt sucks in the tip, your head falling back and Javi’s hips bucking. It shoves him deeper, making you cry out, and just because he can do whatever he wants to you, his hand slips over your throat and squeezes at your pulse points. He doesn't want to cover your mouth; he likes to hear what he does to you. He wants to make you feel good. And the way your eyes roll toward the back of your skull—

Yes. You definitely feel good. 

“That's it,” he murmurs, mostly to himself, watching in awe as you take him all the way, the tight, hot seal of your cunt a vise around his cock. “That's my beautiful girl. Mi diamante.”

“Oh, Javi,” you gasp, “you're so big. You feel so good. So deep—ah!” 

He loves the way your brows furrow as he grinds up into you. Javi’s breath puffs out with the exertion of not moving as you situate yourself on top of him. You shuck down the top of your dress until it's a mess of fabric at your hips, your tits bare for him to use the way he likes. Javi is balls-deep before he can even form words again. When he does, they're mostly Spanish, and mostly curses. 

“Please,” you whine. “I want to ride you, Javi. Let me feel your big cock.”

He will. He’ll let you. Your hips rock back and forth, taking the whole length of his cock with each punch of your thighs down onto his as you begin to quicken your pace. 

Javi’s lips part in the shape of your name. It's sloppy in such a confined space but you still manage to make it look graceful: the gentle undulation of your hips as you grind on his cock to make yourself feel good and the flex of your thighs as you lift yourself up and down, making him feel good. 

Fuck. He remembers your first night together. Crashing into furniture in his gigantic foyer as you struggled to find your way to the stairs, refusing to part from one another. He nearly toppled over the railing only for you to pull him by his tie and tug him all the way to his bedroom. For good measure, you knocked over another vase on a small table before you made it to the bed.

Javi took control that night. He had chased you for so long—literally—around the globe, persevering past your gentle rejections. Jobs like ours don't facilitate quality time. We're busy people, Javi. We both have needs, and you'll get sick of me. 

He used that night to show you how wrong you were. He wanted to show you how devoted he was. He wanted to put all your worries into a mortar and grind them down into fine dust. He wanted to scatter them to the wind atop a mountain. He still doesn't like it when you frown. 

Except for when your brow furrows in pleasure, the way it does now. “Jav—” You're cut off when he places a hand on your lower belly and presses his thumb against your clit. “Javi! God, you're so good. You feel so good, baby.”

He's golden with pride and you laugh a little breathlessly at the grin that crawls up his face. He can't help but beam when you tell him how good he is to you, but it's oh-so easy for you to clench around his cock and dissolve that smile into a look of bliss. His head falls back against the seat and his eyes squeeze shut for a moment. “Eso se siente tan bien.”

“Lo sé,” you laugh softly. 

Your pussy leaks onto his cock and dribbles out onto his pants, soaking him with the scent of you. You're both sweating, panting. He takes one of your nipples into his mouth and lavishes it with his tongue as he sucks. Your moan is high-pitched and weak, your pace on his cock stuttering. He takes over by grinding deep inside you and rubbing your clit with his thumb. He's so close, but he needs you there first. 

You come first in everything. 

“Ja—Javi.” Your thighs begin to tremble with the force of your orgasm until you can't even hold yourself up anymore. “I… oh, fuck, I can’t—”

“You can. Hold onto me, amor.” You wind your arms tightly around his neck and he hoists you higher up his hips. With the new position established, Javi begins to fuck you. Hard. 

You're so sensitive from your orgasm that you whine into his neck, but he shushes you gently, soothing your cries with his gentle hands at the same time his cocks wrecks you, his thighs pounding relentlessly against your ass. 

He's so deep, so fucking thick and heavy inside you, that you can feel the weight of him in your belly. And the rest of him handles you with such care that the contrast twists your head into senseless knots. He's always been like that: able to handle you in just the right ways to banish all thoughts from your head besides him, him, him. He's a little selfish that way. 

Javi’s brows draw up in the middle and his cock twitches inside you. “Shit, shit, oh my—”

Light suddenly floods the backseat of the limo and a silhouette eclipses it. 

“Señor Gutierrez, we've—oh.”

You yelp, your head jerking to the side so fast that you accidentally smack it against the ceiling of the limo. Javi’s instincts are sharper than yours, rushing to cover your tits and angle your body away from the driver. 

He’s still fucking inside you, still spilling his cum inside you, and although the driver is averting his gaze, Javi grits his teeth. “Privacidad,” he hisses. 

“I’m sorry, sir. So sorry.” The poor man is flushed red, his back to the two of you, but you're still hiding your face in Javi’s neck as he keeps your tits hidden by pressing them up against his chest. 

“We’ll be inside shortly,” you tell the driver, kind as ever. “Thank you, Henry.”

The old man scurries dutifully away and you keep your burning face nestled in the crook of your boyfriend’s neck. “That… was so embarrassing.”

Because you and Javi have been caught by many a housekeeper before you had the DO NOT DISTURB sign made, you swallow your humiliation and laugh a little about the ridiculousness of it all. 

Javi huffs, cradling the back of your head. “I should fucking fire him. Malo. Knows he's supposed to knock first.”

And because he's getting mad at the thought of someone seeing you in a vulnerable state, you decide to calm his nerves. “He’s old, baby,” you coo, soothing him by pressing kisses to his throat and curling your fingers in his hair. “It’s okay. I’m sure he's seen a woman’s body before.”

“Not yours.” Javi pats your ass gently. “Never yours.”

“Come on, guard dog. Let's go inside.” You clamber off him and hastily pull your panties back on so none of his cum drips down your thighs. “At least we got to come.”

Javi kisses the crown of your head. “Good. That killed my mood.”

~

“Mi amor!” shouts Javi from the hallway. “They want it! They want my movie!”

Javi comes barreling into the bedroom, waving a thick manuscript around in his hand. You're rarely fazed by his theatrics, but this time, it's special for him. You pause halfway through taking out your earrings and let him scoop you up into his arms, twirling you around and planting kisses all over your face. 

You shriek with laughter and try to hold on, but you're both a little dizzy when he stops spinning. Together, you topple into the bed, Javi still seeking your mouth when he lands on top of you. “I’m… so proud… of you,” you tell him between kisses. 

He’s so gleeful your chest pinches. “There's so much to think about,” he muses, a small tornado of energy as he pins you to the bed and plants kisses all over your body. It's like he's writing his to-do list on your skin. “I need a director. I need to scout locations. I need an entire fucking crew. I need—”

“Actors,” you say, a bit breathless in your attempt to catch up to his speed. “You need actors, baby.”

“Yes!” He drops his forehead to your sternum, right between your tits. “I need actors. I need the most talented, beautiful star quality this world has ever seen.” 

You thread your fingers through his soft, long hair. “And you need a Diamond.”

Javi grins up at you. “My sparkling Diamond. That will be a difficult casting choice, my love,” he says, tracing your hip bone with his thumb. “Diamond is a… uniquely beautiful woman. She shines brighter than every other character. She is the heart of my movie. The melody.”

“What sort of lucky woman will get that role, hmm?” You revel in the hungry spark in his eyes. His excitement is infectious. “That’s a lot to measure up to.”

“I know.” Javi crawls up your body until he can put his mouth on yours once more. “I wrote her after you.”

#kiwisbell's fics #pedro pascal #the unbearable weight of massive talent #javi gutierrez #javi g x reader #javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez x you #javi g x you #javi g fanfiction #tuwomt

[tightjeansjavi]

Congrats on being here writing for one year!!!

🦋Can I please request a little mini drabble for Javi G?

And since you know I love my little bad boi/soft boi - can you please make him a little naughty? He's not a big, mean man, but I think he can be spicy when he wants to be.

xoxoxo

Patti, anything for you my darling 💗

Thank you for taking my Javi G v-card ;)

-

Tease

A/N: spicy, spicy, spicy! 🥵🌶️

~word count: 1.3k~

Summary: being Javi Gutierrez’s personal assistant comes with many perks.

Pairing | Javi Gutierrez x f!personal assistant reader

Warnings: smut with no plot, power imbalance (boss/employee) reader is ballsy and bold, mutual pining, unprotected piv, fingering, teasing (like HELLA) seductress reader, noncon/dubcon (reader is naked in his eye-line on purpose) javi is respectful till he’s not, dom!javi, reader can understand Spanish, reader has no physical descriptions such as body type or skin color, no age gap (no mention of age) +18, minors dni!

translations:

¡Mierda! - Shit!

Querida - darling

Ten piedad de mí, joder - have mercy on me, fuck

Hermosa - gorgeous

Chica mala - bad girl

translations done by @angelofsmalldeath-codeine & @yoongi-tangerine-22

Being Javi Gutierrez’s personal assistant came with…many perks. Javi was always a generous man, and even though he was your boss, and you knew it was shameful to be attracted to him, you couldn’t help it.

But what’s a girl to do with an assumed one-sided attraction? Tease the shit out of him till he simply can’t take it anymore.

It started off innocent, light touches here and there. Fluttering of lashes, giggles, and asking him questions about himself that did not pertain to the conversation at hand.

You loved to see him stutter over his responses and rub the back of his neck, or card his fingers through his luscious, soft curls.

He never acted upon his desires and urges. He always was respectful, polite, and boy, did that often drive you up a wall.

You were desperate to know what kind of man Javi Gutierrez was in the bedroom.

You started wearing revealing clothing around him. Short skirts, low-cut tops that had your tits practically staring him in the face. Flowy sundresses that allowed for easy access to your bare cunt.

He found you purposely bent over at times, with the seam of your pussy exposed—puffy, dripping a droplet of arousal like the sweetest fruit a man could ever taste.

Tempted by the bared fruit of Eden, he was. The urge was there, but never satiated. You were his assistant, and he was your boss. It would be shameful.

-

The sun was hot, blistering, boiling on your skin. One of the perks of living at Javi’s coastal home, was your free access to his inground pool. As long as you did your job, you could spend your free time lounging poolside for hours.

Today you decided to spice things up a bit more than usual knowing the exact time that Javi would come down for his afternoon swim. You would be there, waiting for him.

At first, he didn’t notice your naked form sunbathing on your stomach, ankles crossed in a relaxed position on the poolside chaise lounge. His mind was elsewhere: a new screenplay idea.

He whistled, throwing his towel down on the chair beside you, stretching his arms above his head, giving you a tiny peek at the happy trail at the top of his very tight speedo.

Your sunglasses tip down over the bridge of your nose as you shamelessly drink him in. Salivating at the look of his bronzed, golden skin that you absolutely would love to sink your teeth into.

“Mr. Gutierrez, so nice of you to join me.” You giggle softly, waving your fingers in a teasing motion.

He does a double take when his eyes finally gloss over your naked body. His pupils expand, and he nearly stumbles over his two feet.

“¡Mierda!” He exclaims, covering his eyes and shaking his head. “Querida, why are you naked?!” The harmless nickname slips past his lips, his eyes going wide behind the cover of his hands when the realization hits.

“Aw, Javi! I’m your darling? Wow, you sure know how to get a gal feeling flustered!” You giggle again and slowly roll over onto your back, thighs falling open over the side of the lounge chair, just enough that he can see the outline of your cunt. “It’s far too hot to be wearing anything, Javi. My skin is absolutely boiling.” You said with a soft, airy sigh, letting your hand drift southwards to rest along your stomach. Inching—

Ten piedad de mí, joder. He thinks.

He doesn’t respond, feeling flustered as a hot flush spreads across his face. He averts from making eye contact with you and tosses his sunglasses onto his towel. You swear you hear him curse under his breath just before he dives into the refreshing pool.

Darn.

-

Javi finally loses his cool when the second draft of his new screenplay is rejected. He’s been so distracted with you and your antics that he hasn’t been able to focus! Well, he’s about to show you just how frustrated he truly is with you.

You don’t hear him approaching at first from where you’re bent over the sink, focused on washing the dishes and the song playing in your AirPods.

Your hips are swaying to the side, loose and flowy and from where Javi is standing in the opening of the kitchen, he’s practically burning holes into the back of your head.

Fucking tease.

He stalks forward, coming up behind you and nearly rips the earbuds from your ears, tossing them onto the countertop.

“Hey—” you start to say, losing your voice in your throat when you feel Javi’s palm slip between the apex of your thighs, fingers just barely brushing between the seam of your cunt.

“You’re a dirty fucking tease, querida.” He growls against the shell of your ear. His freehand yanks you back by your hip. He inhales your scent, familiar—his fucking cologne? “Naughty fucking tease. Are you—wearing my cologne?” He drags his fingers through your folds, gathering up your apparent arousal, sticky and wet for him. “Dripping all over the freshly washed tiles, hermosa.”

“Fuuck—” you whimper, pressing your ass directly against the growing bulge in his cotton shorts. Your head lolls to the side, falling back against his shoulder. “I’m your dirty fucking tease, Javi.” You spread your thighs further for him as he continues his ministrations, “Wearing your cologne, sir. Stole it from your room because I’m a bad, bad, girl. I wanted you to smell yourself on me.”

He nips at your neck, sinking his teeth into your skin, sucking harshly on your pulse point as he eases two fingers inside of your sopping cunt, knuckle deep. “Fucking always wearing short skirts around me. Those goddamn sundresses. Lost my mind when you were sunbathing naked, cunt on full display without a care in the world. You’ve made it so, so hard for me to keep my hands to myself, querida.”

“Javiii!” You whine, “please don’t keep your hands to yourself, baby. Please. Have your way with me, sir. I’m all yours.” You don’t give a flying fuck how desperate you sound for this man, you’ve been pining after him for far too long to care.

“Yeah? You think I should, hermosa? Think I should give you my cock? That’s what you want, right? You want my cock? I don’t think you deserve it, querida. Not after you’ve driven me up a fucking wall. Naughty little teases don’t get rewarded.”

He begins to shallowly pump his fingers, knuckle deep, curling them inwards. You can feel the bite of the cooling touch of his expensive rings against your hot skin. “Please, Javi! Give me anything—I’ll take whatever you give me! Your cock, your fingers!” You cry out.

“Yeah? You’re that fucking desperate for me, querida? You want my cock that fucking bad? Look at you, dripping all over my fingers…” he hums, pressing the hardening length of his cock against your ass. “You want me to fuck you so bad, little tease? Take my cock out then, hermosa. Fuck yourself on it.”

You waste no time to reach behind and blindly search for the waistband of his shorts. You let out a frustrating whine when he pulls himself back slightly just so you have to work for it a little harder. He hisses between his teeth, working his fingers inside of you faster when you finally pull his cock free through the opening of his shorts.

He’s heavy in your palm, tip weeping an angry bead of precum when you pull him back in just as he slips his fingers out. You're both a mess of breathy moans when you ease him into your wet heat, tight pussy hugging him like a fist as he bottoms out.

He’s thick, girthy, and it’s overwhelming to have all of him stuffed inside of you. It’s a delicious sensation: being stretched open by Javi’s cock.

“You’re enjoying this too fucking much, hermosa.” He keeps a firm grip on your hip, his other snakes around you, dipping between your thighs so he can thrum your sensitive clit. “Fuck yourself on it, chica mala.”

And so you do.

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#fic: tease #javi gutierrez #javi g x reader #javi g x you #javi g fanfiction #javi g smut #javi gutierrez x f!reader #javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez x you #dom!javi g #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #tw noncon #tw dubcon #Gi’s sleepover #tightjeansjavi 1 year of writing fic celebration #1 year of writing fic celebration #queue

[toxicanonymity]

the narrative.

4.7k, darkish!Javi Gutierrez x f!reader

"Control the narrative. You probably say that when you cum." - Roman Roy, Succession, s1 e1. PREMISE: Javi is in the middle of a publicity disaster due to his illegal activities and big mouth. Enter you (and he will). Penthouse vibe and attire inspired by Justified City Primeval. WARNINGS: I8+ ONE SHOT, dark(ish?) Javi, canon-typical lack of realism, drug references, gratuitous bulge, alcohol, praise, mention of someone sucking Javi's dick in the past, unprofessional behavior, power dynamics, pressure, DUBCON unsafe p in v (etc.), mild gun play, romance. A/N: Dedicated to @noxturnalpascal 🖤 Never thought I'd start the year with this guy, but thots happened. I only have one other Javi G. fic.

When you show up to Javi's home in the Hollywood hills, you're mildly surprised the car is stopping. It looks like any other skyrise. It's not his main residence, but he has the whole top floor to himself. You’ve refreshed yourself on the task during the ride – Javi Gutierrez is a PR nightmare lately, and he needs to be reminded how to handle press, especially questions about his recent run-ins with the law and ties to his family business. You'll run through a few practice questions with him, refresh him on the way to his event, and say goodbye. It should be simple. 

On your way into Javi’s building, the concierge greets you, then makes polite conversation as he escorts you to the penthouse. 

"Mr. Gutierrez already has company," he mentions as he uses a key card then holds the door open for you. 

You step into Javi’s apartment and the door closes behind you. It feels intrusive, just showing up in his personal space without someone to introduce you.  It's quiet for a moment, and you take in the opulence -- the sky high ceilings, the glittery floor sparkling under your modest wedge heels. You adjust your little black dress and fix your hair, then stand and wait with your bag.

You take a deep, calming breath. At least this isn’t a celebrity you have a crush on. He isn’t necessarily your type. He seems like such a teddy bear. He’ll be cool. He’s down to earth, you tell yourself, but can’t think of any evidence to support that claim. What kind of company does he have, you wonder. Is it a woman?

"One more, one more," Javi begs out of view, and your breath hitches at his voice. It's not the pitch or measured cadence you hear in the movies or even interviews. It's deep, gruff, and unpolished. "One more, Nick." 

Your heart jumps at the name. 

Nick sighs. "Alright, what are we drinking to?"

"Balas y drogas," Javi booms. (Bullets and drugs). "Brindemos" (cheers). 

"As always," Nick monotones, and you hear their glasses clink. A few seconds later, boots begin to click and echo, and they're coming in your direction. 

Entranced by the sparkle of the floor, you see a pair of snakeskin boots cross in front of you first. The boots pause, and your gaze pans up over his unexpectedly bare legs, which are muscular and only slightly hairy. Your eyes continue up over the swell of his thighs, and then–by the time you see it, it’s too late not to look right at it--a generous bulge under a blue striped swimsuit. You yank your eyes upward so fast, you almost don't see the gold pistol he’s holding at his side. Javi raises an empty highball glass, gestures it toward you, and you're studying the rings his hand when he complains, "You are early." He taps a ring on the glass and looks around behind you. “They sent you alone?”

“Yes, Mr. Gutierrez.” You introduce yourself. When you speak, he holds surprisingly warm eye contact, given his opening line. It feels like he’s really seeing you, maybe even connecting with you. 

“Please, call me Javi.” He walks around the counter and makes no effort to close his silk robe, trailing behind him.  "Make yourself a drink," he nods toward a wet bar behind him as he puts his glass in the sink. His curls are a mess, but he doesn't look bad. His strong chest glistens under his gold chain.  "Make Nick something, too. NICK--" 

"I'm right here, Javi. I really have to go." Nick greets you with an unenthused nod, "Hi,” then his phone rings and he quickly bids farewell to Javi: "I'll see ya later bud." Nick slowly staggers toward the door as he answers the phone. 

-

As the door closes behind Nick, Javi watches your face. "He has a key, you know. He'll be back," then he again urges you toward the wet bar, slightly more politely this time.  "Please, help yourself.  Why did they send you so early?"

"I'm an hour late," you tell him. His security team stalled you because he wasn’t ready.

He looks at his gold watch. "Mierda" (Shit). He meets your gaze again with apologetic eyes. "An hour late. . . maybe I do like you. . ."  The third time he refers you to the bar, you go around the counter and at least browse his liquor selection. 

A few minutes later, you're mindlessly reading the liquor bottles when you see a reflection in a bottle of mezcal. Something moves behind you.

"Tequila," Javi murmurs a few inches from your ear. “If you cannot decide.” You stiffen but manage not to jump, or so you think. "Relax, mamacita.” A large, warm hand comes to your bare shoulder, making your chest get hot. Javi’s lips brush the shell of your ear. “Relax,” he repeats. “It is only Javi.” He smells faintly of pipe or hookah smoke.

He lingers for a moment, smells your hair, then his hand trails down your bicep, and butterflies rush through your body so fast you have to step away.  He looks only slightly bemused. He checks you out even more obviously this time, then silently walks backwards through the kitchen, and you forget not to stare. You follow the way the light highlights his little belly. His happy trail leads you right to the slight swing and jiggle of the massive lump precariously contained by that swimsuit. How much of it is balls, you wonder. And at that moment, he reaches down to adjust himself before turning around and heading to his bedroom. 

Your face is on fire, and you’re tingling down South. You pour yourself a drink. You need one. The floor-to-ceiling windows offer quite a view of the city. It feels like Javi is taking a long time. In the distance, he begins to sing. You didn’t expect to be attracted to him, but now you have this feeling in your chest, like you’re waiting for a date with someone you like. Someone you’re still getting to know. You try to brush it off and not read too much into the look in his eyes. He’s an actor. He probably knows how to make people feel special, you remind yourself, but you can’t help but feel a little giddy as you wait. 

You take a seat on his velvet sectional. You sip your drink and begin to feel more confident. When you go to put your drink down on the nearest coffee table, there isn't much space amid the array of empty bottles and glasses, and a hookah. You set your drink on a silver tray, and only then do you realize you've disrupted the geometric residue of tiny white lines. “Shit,” you whisper. 

While Javi gets ready, you read some of his past quotes to the press. It messes with your head. Sure, he was rude to you at first, but then so warm. There’s one particular quote you’re stuck on. It isn’t too hard to imagine him saying something like this. You catch yourself feeling sad about it, not because it was so rude of him, but because of the insinuation of him with another woman.  In your mind, you know this feeling is irrational after having only interacted with Javi for only a moment. You have to compose yourself into professional mode again. 

—-

Javi returns freshly showered, wearing slacks and a patterned, long-sleeve, button-up shirt that hugs his biceps. He checks you out as he fastens his last cuff link. Then he sucks in his stomach and tucks in his shirt by shoving his hands all the way into his pants. He keeps eye contact with you as he tucks in the front, and finishes it off with a subtle cup of his balls. Then he stands normally again, and the curve of his little belly presses against the shirt above his pants. He doesn't put on a belt. He gestures for you to walk in front of him. 

Javi stays close on the way downstairs. On the elevator, you can feel his breath on your cheek. When the doors open, his hand on your back ushers you out. The soft padding of his stomach grazes your arm.

—-

Back outside Javi’s apartment, the car you arrived in – the one that picked you up at the Dobis PR office – is gone. You’ll ride in Javi’s car. His security team wants to accompany the two of you in the vehicle, and it’s clear they normally ride with Javi. But Javi convinces them to follow in another car this time. Just this once. You get into a black Mercedes sprinter outfitted with a raised roof, big leather bench seat, and a bar. 

As you settle into the van, Javi is making sure you’re comfortable, making small talk, and you just want to chat with him, but you do have a job to do. He’s sitting in the corner of the bench in the very back of the van, and you’re next to him, with your body mostly facing him. You begin to broach the topic at hand, distracted by his closeness and the aftershave molecules wafting into your nostrils. “Okay Javi, so, I’m familiar with your, uh, difficulties with law enforcement recently, and my role here is to kinda help you help yourself with that in the press.”  

He nods. 

“So let’s start where we are. Do you remember what you said when Page Six asked for a comment?”

He briefly leans in the opposite direction from you to open the minifridge. He pulls out a bottle of champagne. “Page Six, remind me which one is that.”

Is he going to make you say it? Fine. “You don't remember telling the writer her lips were made to suck your dick?” 

“That was out of context,” he mutters. You search his face for whether it‘s a joke, but he’s not laughing, and he’s not meeting your eyes.  

You ask, “Is there a context where that’s a good comment to make?” And you hope it lands softer than it sounds to your own ears. 

“Yes,” Javi nods and brushes a curl out of his forehead. He shifts in the seat and wrings his hand around the neck of the champagne bottle in his lap. “With a cock in her mouth.” Hearing the word cock in his voice gives you a zing of arousal. 

You’re at a loss for words. “Are you saying you weren't answering a question when you said that?”

“The conversation was over,” Javi nods. 

“--And she had your–”

“My cock, yes,” he confirms. “In her mouth.” He reads your face, then shrugs. “She wanted a taste of Javi, and I am afraid I could not resist.” Your mind is going places - How did that happen, you wonder. Did she just drop to her knees? Does it happen all the time? Could you have a taste of Javi? Do you want one? No, you don’t want to be just another girl.

You and Javi look at each other for a moment, neither of you completely focused, then you say the only thing you can think to say, “Fair enough,” as you close your folio. Then you can’t help but add, “Optimally, it's not the best idea to sleep with. . . certain people . . .who can make you look bad.” The thought falls apart as you watch his face, and you wonder if you're overstepping. 

“It was only a mouth,” Javi clarifies, then lowers his voice. “I would never make the love to her.” 

Now his eyes are fixed on your lips. His mind is going places. You watch him salivate over the shape of your mouth and don’t dare to interrupt his filthy train of thought. But that bulge in his swim trunks is seared in your mind. The subtle way it moved with each step. You have to stare at anything else to keep your eyes off his pants. You look at the bits of silver in his beard and the sparkle in his eyes

“Hm?” he asks and you snap out of your trance. 

“We need to control the narrative,” you mumble, as if you're thinking about work. 

“I don’t have a narrative, I have the truth. And the truth is too dangerous, mami.” He extends an arm behind you. 

The intrigue shakes you from your dirty thoughts. You shouldn’t pry, so you try not to, but having heard his explanation for the Page Six comment, you’re wondering if there really is a good explanation for how he got caught riding dirty with both narcotics and unregistered weapons.

He scoots closer, so he’s mostly on your bench rather than in the corner, and he extends an arm behind you. “I have to say, you are a smart girl.” He brushes your shoulder with his thumb. “Very pretty, too,” he adds quietly. “And very smart not to ask.”

“Thanks,” you mumble. What else can you say?

He looks you over, and his face hardens in an instant. “You should fire them,” he says. “They put a pretty girl like you in a van with me.” He scoffs. “They don’t respect you, I’m sorry to say.” 

What is that supposed to mean? You stare at him blankly, then say, “I can’t fire them, I work for them.”

“Well then you should fire your job. Quit it, the job.” You suppose he’s that out of touch. He probably doesn’t even know how much rent is in LA. Increasingly incredulous, he asks, “They sent you here alone?” 

Your mouth feels dry. You nod and try to swallow. 

His face softens. “No, please do not be scared,” he tries to recover, cupping your shoulder warmly with his palm. “But they should care more about you. You are precious.” 

“Well. . . Thanks, I think I’ll be okay,” you stammer.

Javi chuckles and locks all the doors to the van. Your upper body quickly goes cold as he settles in again next to you, his knee touching yours. How did he even do that?

He smiles darkly. “You felt that, right? In your spine?” His thumb brushes the nape of your neck, then the top of your spine.

You nod, otherwise paralyzed. 

“Fire them,” he repeats in a whisper.

You stand up just an inch to smooth your dress, and before you can sit back down, the van lurches out of nowhere.  You’re propelled face-first into Javi’s arms. The unopened bottle of champagne rolls away. Your faces are only a few inches apart. His shirt is soft, his body is warm, and you’re breathing his minty breath. The van lurches again and he hugs you into him, protectively. 

“I apologize, sir,” the driver announces through a speaker. 

You slowly begin to sit up from him. His arms are slow to release you. As you sit up, he lays a hand on your thigh. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“I should warn you,” he murmurs. “Traffic is very bad here.” 

—--

You sit there with Javi’s arm behind you and his other hand on your thigh, and neither of you speaks. He’s practically enveloping you with his whole body.

“You are thinking about it, right?”  

The pitch of his voice and a nod toward your skirt tells you what he’s talking about, and you don’t answer.  He takes his hand off your thigh only to adjust himself, and your face heats up. 

He sighs. “So, if you are the press, what should I say right now?”

After a loaded beat of silence, you snap out of it and begin to ramble, “Well, I haven't asked you a question, so you don't have to say anything, in fact, unless they ask–”

He reaches for your face. He rests four fingers on the side of your face, then brushes his thumb over your lips. “Shh. I won't say it,” he whispers. “That this press is the most beautiful girl. . .” Your lips part and let his thumb into your mouth, but your tongue pulls back.

“That I need her. . .in a way I cannot explain.” You gasp and look down. He takes his thumb  out of your mouth, then his hand drifts to his pants. “That I want to twist her legs around me like a pretzel.” The glint of his rings catches your eye, slowly moving atop his pants. His eyelids are heavy. “I should not say it, right?” 

You look at his mouth then meet his eyes again and shake your head no, ever so slightly. 

“But I can think it,” he whispers with a nod. “I can feel it,” he nods with a raise of his eyebrows. “Dios mio. . . I can have it.” 

He hugs you, slides a hand under your opposite thigh, and swiftly pulls you into straddling him with your knees on the seat and your skirt hanging loosely in his lap. You aren’t wearing stockings, but you’re wearing modest boy shorts. His hips lift up to meet you as he pulls you down with a sigh. His warm package feels even bigger than it looked. He closes his eyes and runs his hands over your back as your loins throb against each other. 

He holds your body firmly in place for a few gentle little thrusts that make you gush with each push of his bulge. Then, satisfied that you're not going anywhere, he pulls your face in for a long, steamy kiss, with his rings pressed against your cheek. As he feeds you his tongue, his hips keep moving, slowly pressing himself against you.

He pulls his face away and asks, “Do we have to go to this thing?” 

“No,” you say, pleased at this turn of events. He cups your head, and you explain, “Not at all. We wanted you to lay low. But you insisted-”

“I want to lay low with you,” he murmurs against your cheek. “Let me lay with you.”  Your insides are throbbing and swelling. His lips and the slightest hint of his teeth drag down your neck while his thick manhood hardens more against the crotch of your boy shorts. “I'll give you more than a taste, Mamacita. We're going to lay together.”  

He asks the driver to take you back to his place. Then he latches onto your neck, and you let out a little moan.  The van turns around to head back to his place. 

“I just need to text the team,” you tell him and get off his lap. You straighten your dress and begin to text your manager.  While you're on your phone, he keeps kissing and nibbling at you. 

Your manager calls, and you clear your throat. Javi occupies himself by popping open the bottle of champagne. You receive accolades for talking him out of the event. 

—--

When you're off the phone, Javi has somewhat composed himself. “Now we have all night.” He hands you a flute of champagne. A voice comes over the intercom saying there's a security matter Mr. Gutierrez needs to be briefed on. The van pulls over and Rafael, Javi’s head of security, joins you. 

“Your brother is back,” Rafael tells him. “And he's not happy about what you took.”

“Puta Madre,” Javi grumbles. “You know what he would have done with it.” 

“I know,” Rafi nods. 

“I have plans tonight, Rafi.” Javi looks at you adoringly. “The most important plans of my life.” He turns back to Rafi.  “Do you see this beautiful woman? We have plans.” 

“You have to stay with me,” Javi tells you. “I’ll keep you safe.” 

When you arrive back at Javi’s place, Rafi insists on escorting the two of you up to the penthouse. The place has already been cleaned up, and a maid is on her way out. 

“Thank you, Sandy,” Javi says as she passes by. She nods. 

——-

You excuse yourself to freshen up while Javi rants to Rafael. There's a crashing noise and you take your time coming back from the restroom, unsure what awaits. 

You come back to the main room and put your bag on a stool at the counter. Rafael is on his way out to stand guard by the door. Javi is sitting on the sofa with his pants off and his shirt unbuttoned, holding his gold pistol against his thigh. 

“I asked Rafi to give us some privacy,” Javi says. “We will not let this ruin our night.” He looks at you hungrily. “Come. Sit.” He makes space in his lap and looks down at himself. He’s wearing black boxer briefs.

You straddle him but don't sit yet. His free hand slides up the back of your thigh and he grabs a handful of ass. “You are the most beautiful woman,” he sighs. “And you feel so good in my hands.”

With his other hand, Javi nudges the golden gun under your skirt, and the metal on your bare thigh makes you flinch. “Shhh.”  He slowly slides the barrel along your inner thigh where the hem of your underwear is. He slides it lightly back and forth, breathing deeply through his nose. Then, his lips part as he rubs it along the damp crotch of your boy shorts. Your whole body erupts in goosebumps. He watches your face as he rubs you with the barrel of his pistol. He angles it upward each time he reaches your front. 

He palms your ass at the same rhythm as he massages you with the gun, as if encouraging you to ride it. Then he holds it still between his legs, pulls you closer against it, and your hips move on their own, seeking more pressure against the barrel. You twitch and gasp and he sucks in a deep breath through his nose. He moves you on the gun and you grind against the barrel until you’re almost at the edge and your thighs are trembling. 

“Good girl,” he sighs. He brings the side of the barrel to his nose and sniffs. Then he makes eye contact with you as he presses his lips to the side of the barrel and dips his tongue onto the metal.  He kisses the gun goodbye, then puts it aside. “I will keep you safe,” he reassures you again. 

Javi takes your hand in his and puts it on the hard bulge and you almost come. He’s so big, and so hard, the seams of his boxer briefs must be ready to burst. He uses your hand to massage himself. At the same time, he grabs the back of your head and pulls you into him for a passionate kiss. Your palm begins to massage his shaft. Feeling the hard shape of him, you can tell how thick he is, and it's more than a handful. Your fingers cradle his balls as you massage the lower part of his shaft. He pulls his underwear down and your skin meets his bare cock.

Both his palms engulf your ass cheeks and he lifts your dress all the way up over your ass so he can see your hips before desperately pulling you fully onto him. He smacks your ass, then kneads it again and licks into your mouth as he grinds up against you. 

He gropes your breasts and pulls your dress all the way up, taking it over your head. His hands find your bra clasp, and he frees your breasts, taking one to his mouth right away. He reaches into your smooth, stretchy boy shorts and gasps at the feeling of your bare, dripping cunt. He holds his cock in his hand and brings the tip to the bottom seam of your underwear. He wedges his cock into the garment, resting against your inner thigh, then a little further, and the bare skin of his tip nudging between your slippery folds makes you weak in the knees. He puts his cock all the way into your underwear from the bottom, wet from your slick, and pulls you tight against him. You grind together and his shaft massages your clit. The pressure builds and quickly boils over, and you moan as you begin to pulse against him. 

“Oh, my love,” Javi sighs, then moans as you grind and come against his cock in your panties. “Such a pretty sight and sound.”

With pleasure still washing over you, he wraps an arm tight around you, turns and lays you down on your back as your orgasm wanes. 

His cock slides out of your underwear as he makes space to finish undressing you both. He tears your underwear down in a frenzy and can't get out of his own soon enough. Within seconds, you're both nude on the sofa in the dimly lit room.

Javi sits on his knees between your legs and pumps himself slowly, belly pushing out, eyes dancing across your body. His cock is so stiff and thick, you can't take your eyes off it. You throb and ache for it. He runs his flattened fingers through your dripping seam and moans at your wetness. 

“I cannot wait another moment to feel you, my love.” 

Javi gets on top of you, his belly pressing into you as he positions himself then notches at your entrance. His gold chain hangs and grazes your chest. He hikes your leg up and you wrap it around him. 

“Good,” he whispers.

Javi shoves into you, punching the air out of your lungs with a brief burn at the stretch. He groans as he fills you with his flesh as fast as your body will allow. “Javi,” you gasp as his girth spreads you apart. His dick twitches at the sound of his name on your lips. He sighs your name and you're almost flattered he knows it, giving you a brief twinge of uncertainty that's quickly replaced by pleasure as he withdraws a few inches then slams into you. 

“You are so beautiful,” he pants as he begins to fuck you steadily. He kisses your chest and your neck. “It was fate that you came here to me.” 

He moans and grunts as he buries his cock in you. You wrap your other leg around him. His body is solid and soft against yours.  So much skin on skin and it all feels right. You feel safe, and you feel adored. The way he looks at you, the way he feels you, moves on you, it’s like he’s been waiting for you forever. He hooks a hand under your shoulder for more leverage, and the force of each punch of his hips jiggles your breasts. He slows down and fucks you more tenderly, but still with power. The movement of his hips is fluid and smooth. 

After a few minutes, he moans, “Ohh, my love,” then sighs your name. “I have to give you my cum, I have to give it to you.” You aren’t sure, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything to disrupt this moment. You’ve never had someone make love to you this way. “I’m going to explode,” he warns.

He buries his mouth in the crook of your neck, bottoms out, and groans as he erupts deep in your core, sending you for another climax of your own. Then his lips scramble up your neck and jaw to find your lips and he kisses you passionately as warm bursts of his cum fill you up. “Mmm,” he moans into your mouth as you clench around his cock. 

When you’re both finished coming, he stays inside for a moment. “We will be joined again,” he assures you as he pulls out.

He lays half on his side, with a bit of his weight on you for a moment. He strokes your face and admires you tenderly. You excuse yourself to the restroom, and he goes with you, escorting you to his master bath instead of the guest room you used earlier. He shows you his bedroom on the other side and says, “you will stay here with me.” 

-

When you come out of the restroom to Javi’s bed, you approach hesitantly. “Are you sure?” you ask. 

“I would not dream of letting you leave,” he assures you. 

#javi gutierrez #javi g x you #javi g x reader #pedro pascal characters #cw dubcon #dubcon #javi gutierrez x reader #female reader #pedro pascal x reader #toxicanonymity ☠️ #tim and eric #dark!javi gutierrez #dark!javi g

[lincolndjarin]

fine art

javi gutierrez x moviestar!reader - installment #1 of sparrow's spectacles

main masterlist - other spectacles - kofi

summary : you were an up and coming actress, javi is your biggest fan, he'd do anything to have meet you.

word count : 3.9k

warnings, tags : dead dove do not eat, !! dark fic !! mdni 18+, noncon, stalker!javi, kidnapping, capture, stockholm syndrome, m&f masturbation, sex toys, briefly mentioned periods, exhibitionism, voyurism, so much internal thought processing regarding readers situation, briefly referenced suicide, reader is undescribed other than briefly being mentioned as young in her acting career, in my head she's late twenties, probs other tags i missed sorry. tldr: you have spent so much time with javi against your will that you unwillingly start fantasizing about him and give in to destructive urges in an attempt to escape him, everything is bad here.

a/n : is this stupid and probably bad? who knows, i have a terrible sense of self judgement lately so i'm just gonna post this and hope it's good. also can you tell that i blatantly stole the set from You LMAO. anyhow this is the first installment of my little 'horror' series. but it's less horror and more just odd little stories i wanted to write tbh

Desk, bed, lamp, television, door, chair.

Desk, bed, lamp, television, door, chair.

Desk, bed, lamp, television, door, chair.

On days where you’re feeling particularly bored you list the things you can see. Unfortunately for you, your surroundings rarely change. Of course you could change that, if you asked him for something he’d give it to you, anything you wanted. Unless of course it was something he thought you could hurt yourself with or contact the outside world with. 

You didn’t often ask. 

Whenever you can have a conversation with him he always says the same thing. 

“If you stopped being so stubborn you might actually be happy.” 

“I would do anything for you.” “Then let me out.” “Anything but that.” 

“It’s not as terrible as you make it out to be. It isn’t an actual cage, it isn’t so bad.” 

So you don’t talk to him unless you have to. 

But some days you’re just so painfully, agonizingly, bored and you can’t help yourself. So you scream at him, or you pound on the unyielding plexiglass, or you hold your hand up against it, hoping he’ll touch the other side and you can briefly imagine yourself having physical contact with another human being. 

Sometimes you’ll even play his games. 

You’ll read the scripts he slides through the small square opening in the cage that can’t be more than a foot wide, and act out scenes with him simply because it gives you something to do and for fucks sake you’re desperate for something to do. It’s so easy to get caught up in him, if it wasn’t so easy you’d probably let yourself do it more often, thankfully, it’s so fucking scary. If you spend too much time in the box you’re worried that eventually you’ll forget that you aren’t a doll and you'll grow to like your box. So you do your damndest to maintain a wall between the two of you, but when that wall is glass it is destined to break eventually. So you scream and you fight until you get tired, and then you let the walls down as you rest, before returning to your struggle. And everytime you let the walls down they take longer to put back up. 

At the end of the day it never matters how you treat him, he loves you all the same. 

Even on days where you scream your throat raw and throw your furniture against the walls, if you ask him to get you takeout from your favorite restaurant, or watch a movie with you, he always will. You asked him about it once. Why didn't he just make you do what he wanted? Why didn’t he just make you obey? He had looked genuinely offended, as if he couldn’t believe you thought him capable of such a thing. 

And he told you that he loved you.

More than anything. 

That you were his most prized possession. 

That he would never do anything to hurt you, it would be like if he were angry and he threw a priceless vase, the only person it would hurt is himself. 

You had nodded as if he was making any sense and you’d turned back to the movie he’d picked out. 

You were a vase. 

You were a collectible. 

A priceless, collectable. He kept you in perfect condition and never took you out of the box. Not even to play with you himself. A small, rather demented part of you, is starting to wish that he would. Of course you don’t want him to force himself upon you, you aren’t that far gone. (Yet.) But it’s been so long since you’ve touched another person. You would give your left arm just to be held. If your calendar serves you well, it’s been just over two years since you last saw someone who wasn’t Javi. 

And Javi wouldn’t touch you. 

Not ever. You were too perfect to be defiled in such a way. He would sometimes hold his hand against the glass when you held up your own, he even kissed you through it once. (Although it had been rather awkward and neither one of you ever talked about it again.) But he never touched you. 

Sometimes you can’t help but wonder what would have happened if you’d met Javi in a social setting. He is rather handsome, and though you hate to admit it, when he isn’t leering he’s almost charming. 

Almost.

Everyday you slip further into the fantasy where Javi does something to break up the monotony. Is that his goal? To make you so desperate for human connection that you eventually snap and beg him to touch you? You shudder as you wonder how long that would take. After the first year you stopped wondering what would happen when he got bored of you. You know deep down that that will never happen. If anything his devotion  for you only continues to grow with each passing day. If it’s possible he probably loves you more now then he did at the start of your stay here. Despite everything he takes care of you, in his own strange sort of way. 

Like how he tracks your cycle, always making sure you have anything you need on those days. Sometimes he even knows it’s starting before you do, he’ll bring you baskets with blankets and candy and any other little trinket or gift he saw that made him think of you. 

Jewelry, little plush toys, and books. Anything to try and make you feel anything other than the misery that constantly loomed over you as you waited for his next visit. He never goes more than a few days without seeing you and he always apologizes when he does. He returns with your favorite shampoo or lotion to make it up to you, but it never really changes how you feel about him. It’s nice to fantasize a world in which you enjoy your only source of company but you’re careful to never let that fantasy bleed into reality. 

If he were actually your partner you’d have locked him down ages ago. A part of you knows that he doesn’t want that kind of relationship with you though. He doesn’t want a girlfriend, you’re much more than that. You’re more like a goddess in a cage to him than an actual human being. A beloved pet bird. It’s clear he feels something more than simple love for you. It’s a devotion, a conscious effort to worship you. 

You are to be kept in pristine condition. 

Of course that doesn’t mean he can’t look. 

Two and a half years. 

That’s how long it took for the looking to escalate into something more. You were watching a movie. 

50 First Dates

You had picked it out, Javi liked action movies but would never complain when you wanted to watch a rom-com. You were on your bed, curled up under the blankets in a hoodie and sweatpants. You haven’t worn makeup since he took you, you rarely brushed your hair, you never put much thought into your appearance, and Javi wouldn’t give you a mirror. 

You had one, a long time ago. Within the first week you’d smashed it, threatening to slit your own throat if he didn’t let you out. All that resulted in was you no longer being allowed to have breakables. Plastic cutlery and paper plates were wordlessly passed to you from that point forward.

You had been watching in silence, he sat on the couch outside the cage like he always did and it wasn’t until you heard a shuddering groan that you turned around to see him kneeling beside the cage, one hand pressed up against the glass, steadying himself, the other wrapped around his cock.  

You were frozen in place. 

What are you supposed to do in that situation? 

You watched, slack jawed as he took his time. His gaze made you feel naked, like he could see through the layers of blankets and baggy clothing. 

He had looked you in the eye when he finished. Briefly staring wide eyed before his eyes squeezed shut and with a long, drawn out moan and a strained cry of your name. His cum painted the glass and before you could form any sort of response he was already stuffing himself back into his pants and standing. You want to say something, anything. Something to hold him accountable for what he just did, but you can’t think of anything, and he’s already leaving. 

Before you can even blink he’s gone, without so much as a glance in your direction. And you’re left alone, in the lamp light, unable to escape the sight of his filth on the glass. Covering your head with a blanket as you waited for it to be late enough for the power to cut out and leave you in a safe, and comfortable darkness. 

A part of you hoped that the white speckles would be gone when you woke up but you weren’t that lucky. 

You faced away from that wall, with your head buried in a book until you looked at the clock and knew it was almost time to face him again. When he returned he had an aura of shame around himself, his arms were full of grocery bags and his eyes were red rimmed and teary. 

“I’m so sorry- I just- I love you so much, I don’t know what came over me.” If this was a normal relationship and the two of you had maybe gotten into an argument or something you would have forgiven him. After all he looked genuinely remorseful as he stared at you, going through the bags before setting down several takeout containers with labels you recognized. He had gone out and gotten all your favorites. Your favorite fast food place, as well as a high end chinese restaurant you loved for special occasions, and a clear plastic case with a slice of your favorite flavored cake from a small bakery near your apartment that you frequented. (You’d never asked him to get you anything from there before, you’d never even mentioned the place to him.) 

Through his mumbled apologies he set down your favorite bubble tea flavor and a water bottle. 

He had passed everything to you through the opening in the cage with trembling hands as he sniffled. Once you had everything he sprayed the drying remnants of his release with Windex, pulling several paper towels off the roll and wiping it until it was as if it never happened. By the time he was finished his cheeks were red and big tears rolled down his face. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Before you can stop yourself you’re comforting him, as if he’s the victim in this situation. 

“It’s not okay, I don’t want you to think that that’s why you’re here.” He mumbles sadly, letting his forehead hit the glass. Through your disgust for your own words you sense something else.

Opportunity. 

The only chance you’re going to get for escape involves him unlocking the door. Something he hasn’t done since he put you in here in the first place. You’ve tried in the past. Not often, there weren’t very many chances, you had everything you needed here, running water and a bathroom, any other sustenance was provided by him through the little opening. There was so rarely an opportunity, and when there were he always anticipated your plans before you got to put them into motion. But you’ve never tried deception. You think you would have, considering you’re an actress but it had never crossed your mind until just now. You can’t half ass this though. If you decide to do this you will get one chance to do it right. 

Go big or go home. 

“No really, it’s okay. It’s sort of… flattering.” His face drops the second you say it and regret starts creeping in. You’re going to die here. He’s going to keep you here until the day you die and no one will ever know what happened to you. A young starlight, taken out in her prime. 

“It’s not, it’s disgusting.” He tosses the paper towels away, sniffling to himself as he stands with his hands clasped in front of him, swaying anxiously back and forth. You take a seat on your bed across from him, fighting the urge to put your hand on the glass. You don’t want to lay it on too thick, he’ll see right through that. 

“It’s fine, it’s- it’s natural.” You’re struggling to find the right words that make it feel real. At one point you were a rather talented actress but you’re out of practice. “Seriously. Especially from you. It’s really sweet.” Fuck, are you doing too much?

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he chews his lip as he stares at you, you can tell he’s skeptical. He should be. You so rarely speak to him and when you do it’s never to be kind. 

“Actions speak louder than words.” 

Someone said that in a movie Javi picked, you had sat and let him read the scene to you afterwards. 

He wants an actress, you can give him that. You can perform, as long as that’s all it is. If it’s a performance you can keep your wall up. You stumble off the bed, your legs feeling like jelly as you pull open the drawer on your nightstand. 

This plan feels stupider by the minute but you need to commit.

He didn’t gift you sex toys the way he did with other little things to make you happier. But they were always just sort of there. In their original packaging, shoved in your nightstand drawer with a few batteries he’d left as well, they’d been here when you woke up in the cage. You doubt you’ll be able to relax enough to do this without a little help, and you have to be convincing. If you aren’t believable he’s unlikely to trust you in the future. If you fuck this up now you’ll never get another chance. 

It’s a pale pink rabbit. You’d probably never buy something like it for yourself, it looks… expensive. The silicone is smooth against your fingers as you rip open the packaging, twisting the base open to pop in two batteries. Rushing in an attempt to not lose your nerve. When you gather your courage you risk a glance up at him, just fast enough to watch his tongue dart out and wet his lips.

So he does want this. 

Good. 

Pressing the button on the toy makes it buzz to life.  

Okay. 

This isn’t so bad. It’s just masturbating, if you do this for him you can take advantage of the obvious attraction he has for you. Even if it doesn’t work immediately, eventually this ends with him letting you out, or at the very least letting himself in, which is all you need. 

So you get back into bed, and you lean on a stack of pillows before really focusing on him. 

And you ask him the question he didn’t bother to ask you.

“Is this okay?” You hope the trembling in your voice comes off as endearing. 

His throat bobs as he nods. Maybe he doesn’t mind that you’ve been laying it on a little thick. Maybe you’ve denied him your affections for so long that he doesn’t want to risk rejecting any advance from you. No matter how out of the blue it seems/.

You push your sweats down to your ankles before kicking them off the bed. No time for embarrassment or regret now, if he senses hesitation none of this will be worth it. He’s moved to be sitting on the couch directly outside the cage now. His knees pressed together as he sits with his hands in his lap, looking almost comically polite. 

No sense putting off the inevitable. 

It’s been a while, there’s a camera in the corner of the cage so you don’t masturbate often, and when you do it’s late at night, once the lights are off and you can hide under your blanket. You can’t do that now though, that would defeat the purpose. 

You leave the toy off as you shove it down the front of your panties. Pressing the soft head of it against your slit, finding it surprisingly easy to tease your entrance with it. 

Are you wet? 

It’s been a while, that’s why. 

Javi certainly hasn’t wasted any time. If he were sitting any closer he’d be fogging up the glass, his hand is shoved down his pants, his face already flushed red. His usual rigid posture is lost as he leans back into the couch cushions, refusing to tear his eyes off of you. Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth you push the toy into you, holding back a gasp as you swallow. At least it feels sort of good. Good enough to make you wish you’d swallowed your pride and used this before today. 

Your body moves instinctually as your free hand reaches forward to push your panties down and turn the vibe on in one motion, the silicone attachment pressing against your clit as you press the toy deeper into your pussy. It’s a little too easy to relax suddenly. Javi now slowly strokes himself, his cock in his hand, looking painfully hard as he squeezes the base of his shaft, almost as if he’s scared of blowing his load too soon. 

Good. 

The less time it takes the better. 

At least that’s what you tell yourself as you angle the toy, letting the tip of it brush against your g-spot and drawing an authentic moan from you. Fighting the urge to cover your mouth in surprise, you repeat the motion. The combination of sensations making your toes curl and your back arch into the mattress. 

“Fuck-” Your voice catches in your throat, your fingers twitch against the button to turn the vibrations up a level. 

Once you find your rhythm it’s easy to forget about the nerves and what’s at stake. It’s easy to get lost in the sensation and the sight of Javi shuddering as he gasps. It’s easy to focus on the attractive parts of him for a brief moment, to make things easier. And it’s easy to wonder if his cock would feel better than the toy that hums and makes your body tense up deliciously. 

It’s actually terrifying how easy it is. 

It’s enough to make you horrified for just a split second. He wasn’t lying when he said you could be happy if you stopped fighting. Twisted into the pleasure you’re feeling is something else. Relief. Relief for the peace you find when you stop fighting him. You could feel this good all the time if you wanted, you and Javi could have your favorite food for dinner, you could watch your favorite movies, and act out your favorite scenes. 

You could feel good. 

You could have nights like these where you watch him jerk off his pretty, thick cock and know that someone loves you enough to take care of you like this. You could let him buy you pretty things and toys that make you feel so so so good. 

And that thought terrifies you. 

If you stayed in this cage you would eventually become entirely complacent. 

It might not be tomorrow, or next week, or next year, but eventually.

You will be happy to flutter about your cage once you’ve forgotten how to fly. 

His pretty little bird. 

It’s your orgasm that snaps you out of that living nightmare. You hadn’t even realized you’d still been fucking the toy, pleasuring yourself to that little daydream. This wasn’t a good idea and you shouldn’t have done it but it’s too late for that now especially when you’re groaning out his name as you remove the still buzzing toy, now slick with your wetness. Javi’s eyes are wide as he clearly can’t hold back any longer as he dirties his shirt and pants with his own release. 

As you quickly reach for the toy, turning it off, you pull your panties up in a hurry. Maybe you should push your luck and ask him to come into the cage now. A sense of dread is settling in your stomach as you realize that you can’t be here much longer, who knows how quickly you’ll crumble if you keep letting yourself do this. It’s best to make this a swift process where you don’t have any more time to sink into the hell that is acceptance of these four glass walls. 

You’re about to do it. About to tell him that he should join you, that it would feel better for the both of you if he was in the cage as well but you don’t get a chance to as he zips his pants back up.

“Go to bed, when you’re asleep I’m gonna leave you a gift.” He stands abruptly, giving you a reassuring smile before pressing his hand up to the glass. You don’t hesitate to crawl up the length of the bed and press your own to his, it’s brief but you can feel the connection here. 

This is just the beginning. 

After today you’ll put more effort in. You’ll make it happen and you’ll make it happen fast. You can put the time and effort in, it’s not like you have anything better to do. You’ll convince him that it’s real before you lose yourself entirely and when the day finally comes where he opens the door you won’t waste the opportunity. 

You’ll leave your room. 

You can figure out the logistics of it later but for now you take the sleeping pill he slides through the opening every night he visits. You don’t usually take it but you need sleep and this will be easier if he thinks you’re compliant. With a sip of your drink the little pill goes down and your eyes close. 

And you dream that you’re a bird, flying through a blue sky.  

You sleep better than you ever have before in the cage. 

Until you wake, the lamp being on is the only indicator you have that it’s daytime. Your hair stands on end as you sit up. He was here. Things have been moved, little things, noticeable things. Your empty drink is tossed in the bin and it smells of cleaning supplies. He doesn’t ever come inside the cage, that goes against everything he tells you. Your head is spinning as you try to figure out what’s different. How long were you out? The pills have never made you feel this fuzzy before on the rare occasions that you’ve taken them, you do your best to focus but it’s difficult when everything’s so muddled. So you do the one thing you know will clear your head and you list the things you see. 

Desk, bed, lamp, television, chair.

Something’s wrong, different. 

He said he was going to give you a gift. What the fuck did he do? Did he leave it in here? Was it too big to fit through the opening? Is that why he came into the cage? 

You don’t catch it immediately, but there is a note taped to the inside of the glass. 

I knew you’d learn to be happy : ) 

See you tonight.

Love, Javi 

You look back around the room, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Desk, bed, lamp, television, chair.

Desk, bed, lamp, television, chair.

Desk, bed, lamp, television, chair.

Oh. 

i no longer have a tag list, follow @lincolndjarinnotifs for updates on my writing!!

#lincolndjarin #javi gutierrez #javi g x reader #javi gutierrez x reader #javi g x you #javier gutierrez #javi g fanfiction #pedro pascal #dead dove do not eat #tw noncon

[prolix-yuy]

On the Right Flight

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x F!Reader

Summary: A long flight with a gorgeous neighbor takes a hard turn when you get on his favorite subject - Nicholas Cage.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, allusions to sex, PiV sex, brief hint of voyeurism, lots of fantasizing, we are Looking Disrespectfully, plenty of sweetness dumped on top.

Notes: I had the worst writers block for this, but then went on a plane and remembered all the fun/not fun things about flying. Plus traveling for the holidays would be greatly improved with a dose of Javi.

I apologize for one moment and one moment only in this story. You'll know what I mean when you get there.

Cross-posted on AO3

For once, you pray to the gods of airline transportation, let there be no one in the window seat.

It’s futile, you know. It’s LA to Boston and you’ve never seen an empty seat, but you’re hoping that this one time you’ll get a little respite. You’re already fed up with having to pay extra for an emergency row seat, no other options left on the only flight that gets you to your parents in time. Then the dread of endless questions about your work (fine), love life (dismal) and future plans (???) just adds to your crankiness. It’s the holidays, you’re going home, and you could use a holiday miracle. 

At least the expansive legroom is a plus.

You like LA, but no snow in December is weird. Growing up in places where snowfall is a guarantee makes you miss it all the more when towering evergreens are carted into the Grove and fake snow looks strangely post-apocalyptic against a 75 degree sunny day. It doesn’t feel right without the tip of your nose being perpetually cold and a scarf devouring you from shoulder to chin. 

Plus you still have a handful of presents to get, and the anticipation of a long flight is making you antsy about your procrastination. There are still a couple days, but one present has eluded you this year and you’re getting desperate.

“Excuse me.”

A polite voice, Spanish accented, lifts over the murmurs and rumbles of the plane. Your heart sinks briefly.

“Sorry, is this your seat?” you ask, sliding your shoulder bag out of the way before getting a good look at the man waiting in the aisle.

And you do get a good look.

A long one.

Probably uncomfortably long.

But holy hell he’s gorgeous.

He definitely doesn’t belong in coach, and if the cogs in your brain could turn at all you might have asked him if he was in the right aisle, but instead you numbly stare as he steps around your knees. He nods with a tight smile, tucking his elbows and broad shoulders as he squashes into the small window seat. Against the dull beige and navy of the walls and seats he’s a cream and maroon dream, a lightweight striped jacket barely zipped over a white shirt. Tan chinos hug his thick thighs as he twists to find the seat belt, a tiny slip of his tan stomach peeking out. You look up desperately at the flight attendant, whose expression is almost as shocked as yours, before settling back into your seat. 

Six and a half hours next to this golden god might actually be a Christmas miracle, but not one you’d ever dream to wish for.

You follow basic plane etiquette, pretending he isn’t there as you arrange your belongings just how you like them. Without a seat directly in front of you most of your supplies remain stuffed in your bag - a bottle of water, your iPad loaded with movies and tv shows, snacks easily in reach, headphones at the ready. You do sneak a peek at your seatmate’s luscious caramel curls, the intriguing curve of his nose, the perfect dip above his chin where pursed lips tempt.

Stop it, you scold yourself, you’re not in a goddamn Hallmark movie.

“Sorry,” comes that rich voice again, heavily apologetic as he waves to get your attention. Pretending you just noticed him - very smooth, you praise yourself - you turn and nod with your best people-pleaser smile. “I am not sure how to make all this work,” he sighs, mouth downturned and brow knitted. A wild gesture to the lack of a tray table, or entertainment display, makes you bite back a smile.

Hot and hopeless? Oh no.

“The tray is in the armrest, you have to flip it out. Same for the TV screen. The headphone jack is here,” you indicate quietly, though your elderly aisle neighbor is not paying much attention, “and you can plug in your phone here,” you add, tapping at the ports in the armrest. His face lights up, then falls when he fails to have the correct cable. You’re not normally this forward with someone you just met, but there’s something about the fish out of water routine that’s making you bold.

“Here, you can share mine, I won’t need it much for the flight,” you offer, fishing the other end of your cord out of your bag. The man’s face breaks into relief - you’ve never seen so many expressions in such a short time - before he thanks you over and over. It makes heat tingle at the tips of your ears and the back of your neck.

“You must think I am quite foolish,” he murmurs when he finally settles into his seat, wincing at the stiffness. 

“Don’t fly coach much?” you ask, fighting your smirk when he throws up his hands, the gesture too big for the tiny space he’s occupying.

“Can you believe every plane was booked for two weeks? My assistant barely got me on this one!” he groans, and the tiniest part of you loves the plight of an obvious mucky-muck living like the plebeians. His face turning to you, capturing you in an intensely focused gaze, dries out your mouth.

“You are laughing,” he states, more incredulity heaped on. You can’t help the smile and snort that eke out of your unwilling mouth.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…you gotta know how silly that sounds,” you say, flight attendants beginning safety demonstrations in the aisle. You lower your voice further. “My assistant had to book me in coach because it’s three days before Christmas, oh the humanity!” 

For a moment you’re nervous you’ve offended him, the blank expression he pins you with making you fiddle with your fingers. Then he covers his face, a thick gold pinky ring only adding to the ridiculousness of the situation.

“You are right, I sound like the worst sort of person. My apologies, I will try to be a better seat-mate.” You shake your head, waving your hand at his apology before settling back into the seat. “I’m Javi, by the way,” he says, and you give him your name in return. He repeats it back to you, along with another few apologies, before leaning over to finish settling himself for the flight. The plane begins taxing, and the telltale rumble of the jets lulls you into closing your eyes. 

Your right arm is warm, pressed against something amazingly comfortable. Considering snuggling into it, you’re shocked awake remembering you’re on a plane and you’ve accidentally slumped against the golden man - Javi’s - arm. 

“Sorry,” you whisper, straightening, but he only smiles (holy shit can he get more attractive?) and shrugs.

“We are all on this plane together, what is a little touch?” he whispers back before returning to scrolling through an iPad. His is bigger, the nice pro version that’s almost the size of an actual computer. You begin to settle back into your plane nap when a hefty list of titles flash by.

“That’s a lot of Nic Cage,” you comment sotto voce, the rumble and white noise of the plane keeping your conversation relatively private. Javi looks at you blankly, one eyebrow quirked.

“He is my favorite actor,” he says, and the seriousness of this statement bleats a little laugh from your lips. This furrows his brow further, though his eyes do dart to your mouth briefly.

“Sorry, it’s not funny, it’s just…serendipity,” you say, adding more confusion to Javi’s face. You wave your hands, centering yourself.

“You celebrate Christmas?” you ask, and he nods, confused. “Okay, so every Christmas I’ve got this tradition with my sister. It all started one year when she said she didn’t like Nic Cage movies.”

“How could she dislike one of the greatest actors in film history?” Javi interrupts, now half perched in his seat and animated, hands flying. It makes you lose your train of thought, those soft brown eyes now shockingly sharp. You swallow once before continuing.

“I don’t think she hates him or anything, she just thinks he’s silly, and plays a lot of goofy roles.” At this Javi flops back in his seat, rubbing a hand over his face. The dramatics are making you giddy, a frenetic energy barely contained in your body as you try not to disturb the quiet travelers surrounding you.

“Has she never seen Raising Arizona? Con Air?” he interrogates, counting several more movies you didn’t even know he was in. Shrugging, you watch his face fall.

“She got through Ghost Rider and Face/Off before she called it quits,” you say, shoulders shaking at the exasperation rolling off his broad ones. 

“Please don’t tell me you feel the same,” Javi pleads. You shake your head.

“He’s made some…questionable choices, but I unironically love Lord of War, and National Treasure is just fun to watch,” you say, the flight attendants starting beverage service. 

“Thank goodness,” he grumbles, folding up his iPad to have enough space. The flight attendant moves to take drink orders, a professional smile following, “Something for you?”

“Champagne,” Javi says, almost off-hand, which shoots the flight attendant’s eyebrows up to his hairline. Warmed by conversation, you test a tease.

“You’re not in first class anymore, Toto, try a vodka.” Javi’s cheeks pink, but he does order a vodka soda instead. You begin to order a ginger ale when Javi interrupts.

“No no, it’s a long flight, you should have a drink too,” he says, the confused flight attendant’s eyes darting between your conversation.

“Oh no, that’s all right…”

“You drink, yes?”

“I do.”

“Then you should have a drink.”

“I, uh…”

Javi addresses the flight attendant directly, and where embarrassment radiated off him before is now confidence.

“She’ll have a drink on me,” he says definitively, and when he catches your eye there’s a sweet smile that makes your heart pound. “You should have a drink with me.”

Moments later you’re sipping on your own vodka soda and the flight attendant is giving you an approving nod as he moves on to the next row. 

“So your sister does not like Nic…” Javi prompts, your story brought back to the forefront sharply. 

“Yes, right! So after she told me this, I was looking for her Christmas present and found this ridiculous pillow on Amazon that I had to get her. It’s sequins, and when you brush them a certain way…”

“...you can see a photo of Nic,” Javi finishes, to your surprise. “I have the same one.”

“Get out, you do not!” you reprimand, the vodka starting to warm your blood and loosen your tongue. 

“I do! It’s part of my collection.”

“You have a collection?!”

The next half hour is spent slowly sipping your drink and enjoying the hell out of Javi’s extensive Nic Cage collection, complete with photos. The wax statue is a little much, but the golden guns are pretty badass. You’re half distracted with Javi’s proximity, leaned in to flip through his photos, shoulder to shoulder. Tart orange peel and the clean musk of some expensive cologne engulfs your senses. Add the relaxing effects of the booze and you’re actively trying not to cuddle up to this stranger with an insane amount of movie memorabilia. 

“But you have not told me what your sister and Nic have to do with Christmas?” Javi finally says, leaning back in his seat and finishing his drink. 

“Okay, okay, so after that first Christmas it’s a tradition every year. I get her some silly Nic Cage thing, she pretends to get mad about it, and we all have a good laugh. So far it’s been the pillow, a shirt, a mug, and a really awful coloring book.” Javi shakes his head and laughs, catching the flight attendant’s eye to bring another round of drinks. You’re pretty sure that’s not how it works in coach, but Javi’s charisma gets him two nips and two glasses of ice palmed to him surreptitiously. If only you had that charm.

“So what is the gift this year? Pants? Shoelaces?” he teases, pouring your drinks. 

“That’s the problem! I haven’t found it yet! I’ve looked everywhere for the perfect gift and I am coming up empty!” You slump back in your seat, accepting the second drink with a wry smile. “I’m gonna break my streak.”

“I may be able to help you with that,” Javi says with a sly little smile, looking at you over the top of his cup. 

“Something out of your collection? I’m sure you’ve got some fun things in there you’re not showing me,” you say, altitude and alcohol making that come out flirtier than you expected. 

“Even better. I know Nic,” he says, beginning a standoff between your incredulous face and his smug one.

“You’re joking.”

“I wrote a screenplay, he was the lead. We’re good friends.”

You have to bury your mouth in your elbow to keep from screeching like a pterodactyl.

“You’re fucking with me, really?”

“He came and stayed at my home. He’s an incredible man - talented, kind, humble, funny. I could call him up the second we land and have him record something for your sister. It would be the ultimate gift.” 

You have to admit, that would be incredible. A personalized message from Nic Cage himself? Your sister would shit a brick. You would win Christmas for sure. 

“And what would you want in return for being my Christmas miracle?” you ask, but Javi only shakes his head good-naturedly.

“Only the pleasure of your company,” he says breezily. You scoff at that.

“I don’t think my company is quite worth that.”

“I do.”

The air thickens around you, not daring to look up and see what expression Javi is wearing. Instead you let your finger run the circuit of your cup rim, hot flashes bursting along your collar. Your heartbeat thuds with twin thoughts - yes yes yes and not worthy. 

Some air would probably do you good. You excuse yourself to the restroom and lock the door firmly behind you. 

The tiny plastic sink is grounding under your hands, the hum of alcohol in your blood receding. A glance at yourself in the mirror makes you grimace - disheveled, tired eyes, rumpled loungewear that suits plane travel but not handsome strangers chatting you up. You splash a little water on your face, fortifying yourself for the return to your seat. Anyways, Javi’s out of your league, fun only because you’re trapped in a plane together. He clearly has money or comes from money, and once outside this pressurized tube you’d never be able to hold a candle to the life he has. 

So stop fucking fantasizing about what you would do if he opened that door right now and joined you in this tiny bathroom. If he’d be soft and sweet, plying you with passionate kisses as he lifted you to balance on the edge of the sink. Or maybe those flashes of focus you kept glimpsing were signs of a man who would fuck you hard and fast, time a factor but attentive to your pleasure. Would he urge you to bite down on his shoulder to muffle your cries before he spills his seed on your inner thighs?

Are you fucking rhyming now?

Sighing, you open the door and run almost directly into the man himself, a sheepish smile on his face. Your face is on fire, nodding and smiling as you pass in the tiny space outside the bathroom. Returning to your seat you try to center yourself, but a tap on your arm directs you to your forgotten aisle neighbor. She smiles conspiratorially.

“He’s single,” she says simply, eyes sparkling, and you share a secret giggle at her wingmanning your chance encounter. “And he’s clearly interested, trust me. If you don’t get his number you’ll be kicking yourself later,” she adds before going back to her show. Javi returns soon after, a few wet trails in his hair and a fresh face.

“It is not so bad in coach,” he muses, pulling out his iPad and opening up his library. 

“Even without the champagne?” you toss back, getting your own entertainment set up. The distance beginning to grow between you dampens your mood, fingers uncertain as they fiddle with the tech. 

“Even without the champagne,” Javi sighs back with a wink. He scrolls through and settles on something before looking up at you, lips parted around a question. You wait with baited breath.

“Do you…want to watch a movie with me?” he asks tentatively. “I was going to watch a favorite of mine, if you want me to AirDrop it to you?”

Heart fluttering but trying to keep your cool, you nod. “What movie?”

“Paddington 2.”

After all the Nic Cage talk, this takes you by surprise.

“I’ve never seen it.”

Javi’s face breaks out in joy.

“Then we have to watch it.”

How could you say no to that smile?

Syncing pressing play, you both settle in to watch the children’s movie. It’s honestly really good, Javi occasionally leaning over to whisper commentary in your ear. The tickle of his breath against the baby hairs along your nape is a delicious shudder you savor. 

After Paddington 2, it’s airline lunch, which Javi pokes at with an mistrusting face. You share some snacks between you as he queues up National Treasure, “the perfect movie for flying,” which leads you to debate whether that title should belong to Con Air.

It’s halfway through the movie (which still stands up after all these years) when your eyelids begin to pull, settling deeper into your uncomfortable seat. Javi peeks through his lashes, sliding a little closer.

“If you would like to close your eyes, you can lean on me,” he says with gentle hesitancy. 

“Don’t want to be a bother,” you protest, a yawn interrupting further thoughts. Javi gives you that soft smile you don’t feel worthy of receiving.

“What is a little touch between friends?” he says, an echo of his previous sentiment.

Everything, you think to yourself before resting your head against his warm shoulder. 

You dream of Javi between your legs in the plane bathroom, holding you tight to his chest as he fills you with his cock. He is whispering movie trivia to you, punctuating his thrusts with facts your mind can’t grip. Legs spread wide, head bumping against the mirror behind you, he pushes you higher and higher, hips snapping into your core. The door opens - Nic Cage pokes his head in, asking Javi about changes to a script. Javi pulls back to talk to him as he keeps fucking you senseless, swapping ideas as your orgasm hovers on the precipice. He turns back to your pleading face before absentmindedly licking his thumb and pressing it on your clit.

“Want to watch her cum, Nic?” he asks, your eyes rolling back in your head. 

A jolt of turbulence shocks you awake, your body in unbalanced arousal from that confusing dream. A wide palm strokes along your forearm, Javi’s rumbling hum right next to your ear.

“It is okay, conejita,” he murmurs, your mind blearily taking in how far you’ve leaned on him, his hand on your arm, his mouth moving against the crown of your head. “Only a few bumps, you can sleep.”

“What’s conny…” you mumble, but close your eyes at his urging. He breathes a puff of air into your scalp.

“You twitch your nose when you’re sleeping, like a bunny,” he says, hand slowing to only his thumb caressing your skin. Humming in response, you slip back under, thankfully into a dreamless sleep. 

You’re not sure how long it’s been when you finally rise, neck stiff and fingers tingling. Javi’s watching something in black and white, a man and a woman having an animated conversation. Straightening up, you wipe the corner of your mouth and pray you didn’t drool. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Javi teases, “they said we should be landing in an hour.” The rapidly approaching deadline makes you wish you hadn’t passed out, even if it was the most comfortable you’ve ever been on a plane. You want to ask Javi more about himself, the life he leads, the movies he loves. But the flight attendants are making the rounds, stilling your tongue. This is only a chance meeting, nothing more. 

The landing is smooth and uneventful, both of you watching the Boston skyline come into view. You ask Javi if he’s ever been before and when he responds in the negative you point out popular landmarks, the Leonard Zakim Bridge the easiest to spot.

De-boarding is always a mess, but with the extra legroom it’s easy to get your carry-on out quickly. Javi helps you get it down, pulling his own out as well. You stand and stretch your legs, admiring how Javi's shirt pulls across his back while he packs his belongings. 

With nods and smiles and “thank yous” said on the way out, you’re free from the tight confines and in the open air of Logan. It’s nothing fancy, but it feels like homecoming whenever you enter the familiar airport. 

“Walk you to baggage claim?” you ask, Javi’s expression blooming from uncertainty to agreement. You savor the last dregs of conversation, Javi telling you he’s visiting family friends on the Cape for a few weeks. The time to part is nearing, but you don’t know what you want to ask. For his email? His number? Could you really ask for anything?

Bags in hand and a man in a suit with a printed “Gutierrez” sign looking pointedly at Javi, you finally square up to your unlikely friend.

“Thanks for a fun flight, I can’t say I’ve had a better one,” you start, Javi waving his hands in protest.

“A pleasure for me as well.” The awkwardness mounts as Javi’s driver fidgets impatiently. Girding yourself, you speak.

“I should probably…”

“I need your number.”

Javi’s blurted out request stops your goodbye, eyes widening. His do too as he stumbles to explain, fishing his phone out of his pocket.

“For the video! From Nic. For your sister. I promised, didn’t I? And you were very good company, I must keep up my side of the deal,” he rushes out, flushing high in his cheeks. You couldn’t stop beaming if you tried.

“Yeah, you’re right, you’re gonna help me win Christmas for sure,” you say, typing your number into his phone. Relief dances in his eyes as you hand the phone back, sending a quick “It’s Javi” text to you. “You only have three days to get it, though, you’re on the clock.” 

“Nic will come through, I know it,” he says, hands wrapping around your upper arms. He hesitates, then pulls you into a hug that blocks out the sweat and grime and frustration of the world around you. Orange peel and warmth fill your nostrils, and you hug him back, face tucking under the light scruff of his jaw. He holds you for longer than you expect but just long enough to know you’ll miss being hugged like this.

“Take care, conejita,” he says, watching you over his shoulder as he leaves. You wait for him to be out of sight before heading on your way.

Christmas morning, after all the presents are opened, coffee is drunk and cheer is spread, you pair your phone to your parent’s TV and play a video message.

“Hi Clara, this is Nic Cage. My friend Javi told me you were one of my biggest fans. Now I don’t know if you can compete with him, but if he says so I have to think it’s at least a little bit true. So to my biggest fan, Merry Christmas, happy holidays, happy new year, and if you’re ever nearby I owe you a photo, a handshake, and some thanks for all your support. Take care.”

Your sister is in stitches, laughing on the floor and interrogating you about how you pulled it off. For now, your lips are sealed. 

The other video message, sent right after, you keep as your own Christmas present. 

“I told you he would come through, conejita! Merry Christmas, I hope you are spending it with the ones you love. Maybe we will be on the same flight back to LA and I will get to see you again? Or...ah, I have no plans for New Years…and you know, it’s bad luck to start the new year without a kiss. If you…would like to be mine, this year, maybe I can take you out. Yes. I would like to take you out. Please. If you want. Okay, let me…let me know. Okay, bye.”

You would very much like that.

END

Part 2: A Bearable Weight

#javi g x f!reader #javi g x reader #javi gutierrez x f!reader #javi gutierrez x reader #javi g x you #javi g x female reader #javi gutierrez x you #prolix fics

[psychedelic-ink]

𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝑴𝒆

pairing: javi gutierrez x fem!reader

genre: smut, romance, minors dni

word count: 2.9k

summary: living in a small town has its perks, watching a movie completely by yourself in the cinema being one of them. however, this time, you meet a charming stranger willing to comfort you during a horror movie.

warnings: strangers to lovers, very explicit blowjob, public blowjob, soft dirty talk, praise kink, horror movie,brief male masturbation feat. spitting, I say public but no one is really there

Living in a small town can be boring in many ways. There aren’t enough places to visit, you risk seeing someone familiar every time you go out but…it also has its perks too. One of your favorite things to do is to go to your favorite mall. You’ve been going there since you were a kid, it was a constant, comforting presence in your life and it might be dramatic to say, but you had a connection with it. It’s an open mall, which means there’s alot of sunlight and crisp air going around. 

But the best part of it, by far, is the movie theaters. 

It’s almost always empty, sometimes it’s just you in the theater, or a couple more people. It was like a private screening and you loved that. You can’t imagine another place on earth where you could go into a cinema only to view an entire movie by yourself as if you were at home. It’s the best. 

You step into the lobby of the theater, greeted by the familiar sight of movie posters and ticket booths. The air conditioning hits you immediately, providing a refreshing break from the heat of the day outside. 

The smell of fresh popcorn wafts through the air, making your mouth water. You take a moment to peruse the concession stand, eyeing the candy, soda, and various snacks on offer. However, you’re not really feeling up for snacks today so you head to buy your ticket. It’s for a horror film and it’s from one of your favorite directors. You’re feeling giddy, excitement rolling in your stomach. As always, you don’t need to pick a seat because there’s only one other person that’s going to be in there with you, so you can sit wherever you want to. 

After sitting in the lobby for a little while, scrolling through your phone, the kind man you often see (and you presume runs the place) approaches you and says you can head inside now. Thanking him, you do exactly that. 

A chill settles across your skin. In typical fashion, you were fooled by the heat and forgot to bring a jacket for this exact occasion. You shrug it off, eyeing the seats as you step in. This is one of the smaller theaters, which you find even better because it’s cozier. Just as you were told, there was only one other person inside. A man. Your eyes lock for a brief moment. You swear your steps slow, he has kind brown eyes, long lashes that touch his cheek with his every blink. He smiles at you and you find yourself smiling back. In that brief moment, your eyes linger over his broad chest. 

Embarrassed, you quickly avert your gaze and take a seat. Coincidentally you’re sitting in the aisle right behind him, he’s not directly in front of you but across, his gaze fixated on the blank screen. You drop your bag to the side of you, another thing you love about this particular cinema, they have “couple” seats so you basically have a couch you can lounge about for the next two hours.

There’s a minute of silence before the lights go out and the soft glow of the projector fills the room. 

You smile and settle in. You hug yourself, ignoring the gooseflesh of your skin. Right as the commercials begin, you glance at the handsome stranger one last time. Some childish part of you wants to lean over and touch the honey-traced brown locks. They just look so soft. 

You take a sharp breathe. Thank god this isn’t the type of horror movie that has needless sex scenes in it. 

You find yourself getting increasingly sucked into the movie. The sense of unease and foreboding that permeates the film is palpable, and you can feel your heart racing in your chest. Your nails biting into your cold and clammy palms. There are scenes of family dysfunction and grief, of supernatural occurrences that defy explanation. The cinematography is hauntingly beautiful, with shots of the sprawling family home and the surrounding woods that give you chills. 

At one point, a particularly gruesome scene plays out on screen, and you let out a gasp of horror. The man in front of you turns around. Thinking that he must be annoyed, your lips move to form an apology but then you notice the look of concern on his face. Your lips form a kind smile instead, and lifting your hand, you whisper an apology. 

Then it happens again—fuck this movie was really going to make you see nightmares tonight—and he turns around, again. Before you can say anything, he beats you to it. 

“If you're scared, I would be happy to keep you company.” 

You're momentarily taken aback by the offer. Your lips part, a soft noise echoing from the back of your throat. He’s staring at you with amusement now, the corner of his lips twitching. You swallow, wet your bottom lip. You’re about to give him an intelligent answer. 

And just like that the intermission starts, the movie comes to a sudden halt, and soft lights flood the room, hurting your eyes. 

Oh god, he can see your face now—shit. 

You look away and wave your hand in dismissal, “Ah, thank you but that’s okay. I’ll try to keep quiet. I usually don’t get this riled up.” 

He smiles. You sweat that you melt into the cushiony seats at the sight of it. You swallow thickly around the know that formed in your throat. His eyes soften, his smile nothing but kind. 

“I am quite scared too,” he informs. He has a soft baritone, a melodic lilt to his voice. “It is embarrassing to admit.” 

Your eyes flit across his face, then drops to his neck. His sun-kissed skin looks delectable. Heat settles at the end of your spine, a shudder coursing through your veins. He’s too kind to be from here, so he’s likely a tourist. 

You push out your bottom lip and then down to your lap where your fidgeting hands rest. 

“Well…if you’re scared…you can come and sit with me.” 

Your lips draw a tight line as you lift your gaze and meet his eyes. You’re pathetic. Even if he was scared, It’s obvious he was making an excuse on your behalf so you won’t be embarrassed. 

“Thank you, princesa. I am forever in your gratitude.” 

You’re highly aware that he’s humoring you. But it’s hard to care about that when he stands up. You watch as he walks down the aisle, his figure silhouetted against the light from the lobby. He’s much broader and taller than you expected him to be. He reaches your row and with heated cheeks, you quickly pick up your bag to make room for him. The cushions dip with his weight and your mouth floods with saliva. 

You’re not sure you can focus on the rest of the movie like this. 

“I am Javi by the way,” he says, voice low. He extends a hand as you introduce yourself, the inside of his palm is soft and warm and you’d be lying if you didn’t say that you’re fingers lingered. 

For the rest of the film, you're acutely aware of Javi's presence next to you. Every time you jump or gasp, he leans in closer, as if to shield you from the movie itself. You find it rather charming. Javi's arm brushes against yours, you feel a spark of electricity shoot through your body. You try to ignore it and focus on the movie, but you can't help stealing glances at him from the corner of your eye.

Before you know it, he has an arm around your shoulder, fingers feather-light against your bare arm. A loud noise echoes and your breath hitches. Upon hearing you, Javi pulls you closer. 

Javi whispers in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "Don't worry, I've got you." 

Normally, you wouldn’t dare to get this close to a stranger—and that was what he is; a stranger—but it’s really hard to see him that way when his presence is like a pillar. And it feels rather good to be held during a horror film. Most of your friends don’t enjoy them so you often see them alone, coming out of them needing a hug. 

With another jarring scene being reflected on the big screen, you find yourself seeking solace in the crook of his neck, your nose pressed firm against the thick column. His arm tightens around your tense frame. You might be imagining it, but you think he’s shushing you. It’s not in a cruel way. It’s soft and comforting. His hand moves up and down your arm, spreading warmth along your skin. You jump again when a fleshy sound echoes. This time your lips touch the skin. You feel his pulse and his scent floods your nostrils; a mixture of bergamot and cinnamon— and something so undeniably him. 

“Are you alright?” he asks and you nod, your lips brushing along and following the ridges of a vein that lingers underneath. He’s so warm. So secure. You’re melting against him, forgetting completely that you just met this man and that you’re in the theatre. 

The kiss happens unexpectedly. You have no idea where it comes from, but your lips press into his skin. He feels so soft under the plush of his lips. Javi doesn’t say anything but his body stiffens. A sudden burst of embarrassment warms your cheeks and you start to pull away, only for him to hold you there, his hand coming up to gently cradle your cheek and a part of your neck. 

“It is okay,” he whispers as if someone might hear. “Your lips are very soft. It feels very soothing.” 

You continue to kiss him. Your lips dusting over his neck as you inhale him, engraving him to memory. He shudders. And with a sudden boldness, you lick a stripe down and gently nip the sensitive flesh. He jumps a little, his hand moving to your scalp to softly tug on your hair. The sounds and moving pictures fade into the background. All you can focus on is the heat growing between your legs and the beat of his heart under your tongue. 

Your hand moves to the front of his pants, you cup his length through the fabric and slowly stroke him. 

“Can I?” you ask. 

Your gaze lifts when you hear the whimper that echoes from the back of his throat. Shadows dance along his face, eyes sockets looking deeper than they were. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip and he swallows with a nod. A wolfish grin spreads across your face as you sink down to your knees. He gets comfortable, spreading his legs and allowing you to nestle between his thick thighs. In all honesty, a horror movie doesn’t make for the most romantic backdrop, however, the sight of him cheating his hand down his pants and grabbing himself makes up for it. 

Your breathing short paced and frantic, you help him out of his pants along with his boxers. His cock bobs heavily between his legs, precum smearing against the fabric of his shirt. With shaky hands, Javi unbuttons his polo, only to reveal that his white top underneath has ridden up a little, exposing the swell of his stomach and the soft curls that trail down his belly button. He’s definitely thicker than you imagined. Slowly, you wrap your fingers around the base and give him a firm stroke. A moan that’s a mixture between pain and pleasure hits the back of his teeth. 

“Hermosa,” he says, voice barely audible over the movie. “Let me help you a bit.” 

You draw your brows together, not quite sure what he meant by that. Javi doesn’t give you a moment to put the pieces together. Your eyes still glued to his cock, he spits in his hand and coats himself. You hold your breath and your lungs burn. Without much thought your own hand unbuttoned your jeans, sneaking a hand under the waistband, you stroke between your clothed folds. You’re soaked for him already. 

Javi touches himself gently, his cock glistening under the changing lights of the movie. His length twitches, growing bigger. Again, you swallow. You press two fingers to your aching clit. You gasp a little, which makes his eyes glimmer with amusement. 

“You like watching me?” he asks, palm swiping over the head. “Are you wet? Tell me.” 

Everything about this feels like a fever dream. You’re hald sure you fell asleep during the movie and dreaming all of this. But you’re not. Because when he lets go of his cock and gently cups the underside of your chin with wet fingers, your skin prickles so fast that it almost hurt. You exhale the breath you’ve been holding, your mouth dry like sandpaper. 

“Yes,” you whisper. “I’m soaked for you, Javi.” 

He hums with approval, “Good. That makes me very happy.” 

You’re not sure why hearing that makes your pussy throb, but it does. His smile never fades as he guides you to his cock, his hand sliding to the side of your face to cup your cheek. You part your lips and take the bulbous head of his cock into your mouth. With a pointed tongue, you taste him, and a groan trembles within his chest. You take a deep breath. Despite the hand on your cheek, he’s not forcing you to take more of him. Instead, he looks down at your patiently. His length throbbing on your tongue. Then, when you feel ready, you swallow more of him. Javi’s head falls back, his hips slightly raising off the seat. You purr at the way his blunt nails scratch your scalp

“Your mouth feels amazing,” he gasps and swallows. He follows the praise with a string of Spanish words that you hope have the same sentiment. 

Looking up between heavy lashes, you part from him and drag your wet lips down the side of his length. A thick vein meanders down, twitching with your every move. Your eyes flutter closed as you kiss the curve of his testicles. You flatten your tongue between them, feeling the weight while his cock lays heavy on your cheek. 

“F-Fuck,” he moans, gently grinding and dragging his length down. 

Pulling yourself back up, you take him between your lips once more.  

You're lost in the sensation, the taste of him on your tongue, the weight of him in your mouth. You savor the taste, the musky and slightly salty flavor making your mouth water. You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, teasing and licking him, feeling him pulse and throb against your lips. You take him deeper into your mouth. You love the way he responds to you, the way his nails bite into your skin and his breath catches in his throat.

With a wicked grin, you pull back and watch as he groans in frustration. "Tease," he breathes out, but there's a hint of amusement in his voice. You just smirk and run your tongue over your lips, giving him a show that is, hopefully, worth missing the movie. 

You use your tongue to trace the veins along his length, feeling the texture of him under your lips. Sliding your mouth up and down his shaft, you feel the heat building between your legs. You're getting wetter and wetter, your body responding to the sounds he’s making. You suck him deeper into your mouth, taking him all the way to the back of your throat, feeling him hit the back of it over and over.

Javi's hips start to move, thrusting gently into your mouth, his cock sliding over your tongue. You love the way he tastes, the way he feels in your mouth. He pulses over your tongue. His breathing growing more ragged and loud. As Javi's thrusts become more urgent, you know that he's close to the edge. You keep your lips wrapped tightly around him, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock, urging him on. And then, with a strangled groan, he starts to spill into your mouth.

You feel the heat of him spreading across your tongue, the taste of him making you moan. Your jaw aches, but still, you keep your mouth wide open for him, swallowing over and over, until he’s dried out. With a gentle tug, Javi signals you to let go and pulls you up onto his lap. 

Before you know it, his lips are on yours, tasting himself on your tongue. 

You moan into his mouth as he slides a hand between your legs, feeling how wet you are for him. He chuckles softly, breaking the kiss to trail hot kisses down your neck and over your collarbone. Your head falls back, your body arching into his touch.

“You weren’t lying,” he says, hot breath fanning your neck. “You are wet for me.” 

You nod frantically, grinding to meet the sinful touch of his fingers. But just as you’re getting used to it, the lights slowly flicker on and when you turn, you notice the credits rolling. 

“Shit,” you hiss, rolling away from him and letting out a breath. Javi is by your side in an instant, the curve of his nose snug against the side of your face. You can’t help but smile. 

“We should buy a ticket for the next one,” he whispers, lips touching your cheek. “Since we missed the ending.”

a/n: So, this was actually inspired by an actual mall we have here. And honestly, the empty cinemas are probably the biggest thing I'm going to miss about this place. It's seriously the best. Sadly tho I never had a javi to comfort me fgbgfbg

Normally yesterday I wanted to see beau is afraid but apparently it's not out in our country yet and is going to be in theaters on june 9th--I'll probably end up watching it online. Anyway since I oculdn't watch beau is afraid, the movie that's actually playing in the background is Hereditary which didn't spook me the first night but def spooked me the second night. And the more I think about it the more I wish Javi si with me lmaodfvdf

Hope you guys enjoyed the cinema filth! sending you all love xx

#javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez x you #javi gutierrez x f!reader #javi gutierrez x fem!reader #javi g x reader #javi g x you #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters #tuwomt fanfic #tuwomt fanfiction

[huntingingoodwill]

lost in translation (j.g.)

masterlist

pairing: javi gutierrez x translator!reader

desc: when filming an ad campaign in tokyo, javi is a fish out of water. thankfully, you're there to help him translate, and explore with him off the clock.

He squinted against the harsh glare of the lights, the crew being reduced to a bustling mass of shadow. Sticking a finger into his too-tight collar, he tried to ease himself of the feeling of suffocation. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t…” Javi muttered, wide brown eyes peering up at the director. 

Smatterings of Japanese and English left the director’s mouth, accompanied by some gesticulation as he struggled to communicate. Javi felt warmth creep up his cheeks, embarrassed at his own lack of fluency in Japanese. 

He should’ve at least picked up some vocab, he thought, fiddling with the smoking jacket the costume team had conjured up for him. He was only in Tokyo for a couple of days to film an ad campaign for a whiskey company, but it would’ve helped. Especially in situations like this exact moment, where the director’s words seemed to jumble and dissipate beneath a shroud of mystery. 

“Sorry I’m late!” 

You didn’t sound sorry. 

Your words were flippant and bored, your face not betraying an ounce of apology. Cool and calm as the unbroken surface of a lake. You flounced into the studio, and your figure came into focus, the studio lights haloing your figure. His saviour. 

He felt a little ridiculous in your presence, dressed like a child’s guess of what a “cool guy” would look like. Perched in a velvet armchair that seemed to swallow him up, his fingers nervously played with the neck of the glistening bottle he was meant to convince viewers all over the world to buy. He was parched, strangely uncomfortable. Even the prop whiskey seemed enticing, though it was probably just some watered-down coffee. 

You stuck out your hand. 

He stared at it. It was a nice hand. 

“Oh!” He exclaimed, realising you meant for him to shake it, not just stare at it in blind adoration. He took it. “Sorry. I’m a little… overwhelmed.” His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed thickly. 

“Performance anxiety is normal. Not everyone possesses the massive talent needed to pull off a whiskey commercial.” You joked, laughter bubbling in your throat. “I’ll be your translator today. Hopefully that’ll help.” 

His eyes widened, hand tightening around yours gratefully. “You’re my hero.” 

“I know.” You smiled. “I’ll need you to let go of my hand now. I feel the director’s eyes burning into my back.” 

Javi looked up, watching as the director switched between glaring at his watch and at the two of you. 

“Oh! Yes. Sorry.” He exclaimed, slipping his hand from yours.

The director began firing off directions, which you quickly translated. Simple instructions. Turn toward the camera. Pour a shot. Deliver the line. 

“Action!”

Turn toward the camera. Pour a shot. Pour a shot. Pour a-

He was unable to tear his eyes away from you. His eyes tracked the line of your silhouette behind the camera, admiring the smile that blossomed across your face as he caught your eye. You giggled at his deer in the headlights gaze. A stupid smile spread across his face. 

“Cut!” 

The director mumbled a couple words in your ear, and you headed to Javi’s side. 

“Sorry about that.” Sheepishly, he raked his hand through his tousled brown curls. “I guess I’m just…” He admired your smile. He loved your smile.  “Stumped.” 

“Tough, huh? A real challenge.” 

“Don’t be cruel.” He laughed. You loved his laugh. The endearing crinkle in the corner of his eye. 

“Sorry.” You grinned. “Say the line like… you’ve invited an old friend over for a drink. He’s an emotional drunk, so he’s pouring his heart out to you. So, you’re talking to him with enough warmth to comfort him, while being dismissive enough to let him know it’s getting late and you kinda want him to leave.”

He raised an incredulous eyebrow. “That’s… specific. But I think I get what you mean. Did the director tell you all that?” 

“I may have taken some artistic liberties.” You batted your lashes, feigning innocence.

“You should be a director.” 

“I know.” 

With your artistic vision, filming wrapped after a few more takes. You were pulling on your coat when Javi strode over to you, pushing past the production assistants that flitted and fussed around him. 

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” You teased.

“My massive talent helped me pull through.” 

That earned another smile from you, and he felt the urgency to not let you slip through his fingers nag at the back of his mind. 

“So, um… I was wondering, are you doing anything after this? I was thinking of getting a drink…” 

“So you need me to translate your order for you?” You deadpanned. 

“Oh!” His heart thrummed in his chest, his tongue stumbling over the words he struggled to form. “I mean, I could always pay your rate as a private translator if it’d take too much of your time-” 

“Nah.” You chuckled, amused by his flustered state. “Free of charge. How could I resist those puppy dog eyes?” You quipped, voice overly saccharine as you ruffled his hair. He smiled, in spite of himself. 

“As long as you take off that horrible coat. Come on, we’ve got a train to catch.” You called over your shoulder, leaving him to hurriedly shed his costume and hurry along after you. 

“Crowded, huh?” He whispered. 

“A little.” You mumbled, pressed against his chest. 

You swayed against him to the rhythm of the train, forced to be in close proximity due to the packed rush hour crowd. 

“I don’t usually get this close with guys I’ve just met, by the way.” You muttered, another crush of passengers entering the cabin and pushing you even closer. “Consider yourself lucky.” 

“The luckiest.” He prayed you couldn’t feel his heart, which was pounding in his chest. 

The train doors shuddered open, and you wrapped your hand around his, squeezing through the doors and rushing down the stairs. He laughed as you sidled through the crowd together, breaking out from the dull train station onto the street. 

It was like breaking through water. He took a deep breath of the cool, thin air, the night dark and slick. It had been raining, and every surface was dewy, neon lights glinting off the wet, black pavement. 

“This is the first time I’ve been anywhere outside of my hotel room and the studio since I got here.” The confession hung in the air, whisked away as the chatter of passerby whipped by, people rushing past him as he stood still, agape at the scene before him. 

“That is such a shame.” You muttered. He thought you wouldn’t have heard him. But you did. 

“Why are we still holding hands?” 

“It’s the first time you’ve been outside of your hotel room and the studio since you got here. You could get lost. I’m just keeping you safe.” You said. 

He kept his eyes glued in front of him, but he could hear the smile in your voice, clear as day. 

“Do you want to let go of my hand?” His eyes tracked the buildings that seemed to shoot up into the sky, the bright billboards that flashed on them. 

“No. Not really.” You said. 

“Keep me safe, then.” He grinned, squeezing your hand in his. 

“What do you want to drink?” You drummed your fingers against the bartop, eyes skimming the labels of the many bottles on display. The bartender stood before you, polishing a glass with little to no enthusiasm. “Highball?” 

“I can never look at whiskey again.” Javi groaned, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to forget the corny one-liners about whiskey he was forced to learn for the ad campaign. 

“Saké it is.” 

“Can I ask you what may be an invasive question?” He took a sip, relishing in the bite of warmth that travelled through his chest. 

“Ask away.” 

“Which hotel are you staying at? Or do you live here?” 

You burst into laughter. 

“God, you had me nervous. That’s not that invasive.” 

“Well, I don’t know!” He laughed, raising his eyebrows. “It might be invasive to someone.” 

“An invasive question is like…” You wracked your brain, and he tried not to fall in love with the pensive look that descended over your features. “What colour is your underwear?” 

“I’d tell you if I were wearing any.” 

You barked out an outraged laugh, making a show of pretending to shove him off his barstool.

“You’ve gone past invasive to gross, but I’ll let it slide. To answer your question, I’m staying at The Laurent.” 

His eyes widened, arm freezing in the middle of delivering his drink to his lips. “You’re kidding. That’s where I’m staying.”

You smiled, shrugging your shoulders. “Must be fate.” 

He stared into your eyes, finding it hard not to get lost in them. “Must be.” 

“We’ve been in that hotel for almost a month.” You sighed, exasperated. “But, I’ve been thinking of staying permanently. I’ve been looking for apartments. No luck so far.”

“We?” Javi asked, knowing he was teetering on the precipice of something, standing on the edge of a cliff. 

“Me, and my boyfriend.” You mumbled. His heart plumetted. Falling, falling. “Soon to be ex.” Soaring, soaring. Like the weight of the world was lifted off his shoulders. “He doesn’t know I’m thinking of staying here. Without him. Am I the worst person in the world for not telling him that?” 

Am I the worst person in the world for being happy you’re dumping him? Javi thought. 

“Not at all.” Javi said. 

You may know him, actually.” You winced.

“I would?” Javi’s eyes widened in surprise. 

You muttered his name into Javi’s ear, and it took all he had not to shiver as your warm breath fanned across his cheek. 

“Dieter Bravo’s manager, right?” He said, registering the name. He pictured the last time he had met him, drunkenly waltzing around an afterparty with his arm around a woman who was definitely not you. “He’s… a character. At least you’re getting a free hotel room out of him.” 

You grinned.  “It’s a lovely hotel room, really. Spacious, especially when he’s out in meetings, or making calls to his ‘talent’.” You curled your fingers sarcastically. 

“You saying Dieter isn’t talented?” Javi chuckled. 

“Well, he’s not you.” 

The cans of coffee tumbled from within the vending machine, hitting the bottom with a loud thunk. 

You stooped down to grab them, handing one to Javi. The blue fluorescent square of light displaying the various canned drinks illuminated his profile, his honeyed brown eyes partially hidden by  shadow, his curls curving over his forehead in possibly the most endearing way known to man. 

“Do you get bored up there, when your soon-to-be-ex is out at meetings?” Javi asked, watching as you wicked condensation away from the can. He nodded toward your hotel from your spot in the parking lot. 

“Terribly.” You said, punctuating the word with the pop of the can’s tab as you cracked it open. 

“Give me your room number. If I’m ever going out, you can tag along. Translate for me.” He tried to disguise his nerves beneath a veneer of calm. 

“Hourly rate?” You smirked. 

“I could give you a cut of my ad campaign cash.” 

“10%?” 

“5%.”

“8%.” 

“5% and a lifetime supply of whiskey.” 

“Fuck it. Let’s make it pro bono.” 

“How kind.” He smirked, emboldened. “Now, what about that room number?”

You rifled through your bag, producing a marker from the cluttered depths. Plucking the cap off with your teeth, you scribbled the number on his palm.  

“1111.” He read aloud, cocking an eyebrow as he let out a chuckle. “You didn’t think I’d be able to remember that?” 

“I’ve just always wanted to do that. It’s like we’re in a movie.” 

The two of you laughed, the sound echoing into the quiet night. It was as if you were the only two people on earth. 

“1111.” He sighed, tracing a finger over your handwriting, etched into his skin. “An angel number.” 

“You believe in angels?” 

“‘Course I do. I’m talking to one right now.”

#i miss tokyo a lot. #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x you #pedro x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedrostories #javi gutierrez #javier gutierrez #javi g x you #javi g x reader #javi g fanfiction #the unbearable weight of massive talent

[grogusmum]

IRL

Part 2 : of festivals and food

JAVI X F!PLUS SIZE!READER

WORD COUNT: 2200ish

SUMMARY: Set before the events of The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent. Javi and Reader are friends online, and after a year of DMing, they decide to meet. (The only change is that Javi and Gabriela are just friends)

WARNINGS: Reader has insecurities about her size and appearance, Lucas continues to be a fatphobic jerk, and that's about it in this chapter. Worries about food and eating. Javi is adorable, be warned.

Part 1

Javi watches you closely after the encounter with Lucas. He got the feeling your translation was very basic, and on the surface, it might not seem rude. When you pull on an entirely unnecessary cardigan, he knows you know it was at your expense.

“Just in case the air conditioning is - um, you know too cold, or whatever,” you mumble.

He thinks you are just beautiful and not in spite of your size. Your ample curves and softness were just… all he can think about was running his hands up and down your plush arms.

Javi opens the car door for you when you reach the carport and comes around to the driver’s side.

Dropping into his seat, he fills the void-

“So along those lines, this is a 1955 Porsche 356 Pre-A Speedster, Nick-”

“Oh right Nick had one until he sold it because of his 'IRS problems',” releieved to have something else to talk about, you grab onto what feels like a lifeline, a conversation far from what you are thinking about, then your eyes widen.

“Wait-”

Javi smiles and nods animatedly, as you point just as emphatically at the car with your mouth hanging open.

“Is this his?!”

“I got it on auction! I was only too happy to help Nick with his financial difficulties.”

At the restaurant, the Materdi seats you and Javi in a ridiculously romantic alcove with an open window overlooking the beach. You carefully slide onto the semi-circle bench, and Javi slips in after you. There are faerie lights strung above you and a low candle in stained glass mosaic holder on the intimate table.

The server brings water and gives you the chef’s specials. When he returns for your order you do your best to order in Spanish.

Of course Javi knows he doesn’t know how you eat normally, but when you spoke online, you expressed a love of trying new things and experimenting with cooking, though you admitted you failed spectacularly on many occasions. But here you are in Spain for the first time and you order a salad. A side salad and some prawns.

“How would it be if I ordered for the both of us? Javi tries, “that way, you can try a just little of everything, if, you know, you are not very hungry. I would hate for you to miss out on the tapas Roberto’s is so famous for.”

He watches you nibble self-consciously at first, though Roberto’s tapas won the day. Soon, you are making yummy noises, and Javi can’t get enough of them.

“Have you tried this one?” Javi asks, getting a fork full of Patatas Bravas and guiding it toward your mouth. Your little smile just before opening your mouth gives Javi butterflies low in his stomach. Your lips close around it, followed by your eyes as you savor it. Then you give the cutest whine.

“Is that potato?”

“Mhmm,” Javi smiles, “with garlic, hot sauce, and- ”

“Smoked paprika!” You finish together.

“Oh it’s all so good, thank you Javi.”

“For what?”

“Not letting me just have a stupid salad and steamed shrimp.”

After dinner, Javi takes you for a walk along the beach. Wondering if he can take your hand again, when you try to stifle a yawn, the time difference is getting to you.

“To bed!” he declares, seizing the opportunity to take your hand under the guise of directing you toward his palatial home. “We have a big day at the festival.”

“I’m not really ready to say good night, Javi.” You give his hand a squeeze, “But you're probably right, I’d be mortified if I fell asleep during one of the movies.”

“Well, we will head back to the house slowly.”

But you find yourself in front of your bedroom door far too soon. Before you could overthink it, you give him a kiss on the cheek and a shy goodnight and disappear into your room. Javi leans on the door, his hand going slowly to his cheek. He’s brought back to reality and chuckles to himself until he realizes what or rather who pulled him out of his reverie.

“Cousin, you have a beautiful woman for an assistant, with an incredible body! How have you never-”

“Lucas, stop, will you? Gabriela and I are just friends.”

“And you prefer the heifer?”

All he wants to do is clock Lucas right across his smug and arrogant face more than he has ever wanted to before - and Lucas has a natural ability to pull this reaction from Javi- often. But that will only make things worse. He knows he needs to stand up to his cousin, for many things, but it’s frankly dangerous to do so, so he brushes past and enters his bedroom, just relieved that between the closed door and the rapid Spanish. You probably did not hear what was said.

Bzzzzt bzzzt

You look at your phone

JAVI: Good night. :)

YOU: lol Good night Javi

YOU: sweet dreams

JAVI: I have no doubt. ;)

You stare at the last text. With confused astonishment, your face heats up. But, maybe he’s joking or…

YOU: cheeky

YOU: see you in the morning

JAVI: See you.

Javi looks at his screen, not sure what to say next or if he should say anything next. After a few moments just staring at it, he puts his phone in the charging dock and his hand goes back to the place you kissed it, it was just a little kiss, but he could still feel your soft lips there. He undresses and slides between his cool, crisp sheets and clicks off the light. Laying in bed awake, he listens to the waves crashing on the beach below. Javi thinks of you listening to them, too. He’s glad he chose to put you in a guest room on the same side of the hall. His mind goes over the day, wandering to your arms again, then your hips… how he would explore you if you were to allow it. His imaginings switch over to dreams of you in his bed, tangled in his sheets, breathing heavily as he feasts on you.

You wake to the sounds of seabirds, making you smile. It makes you want to wrap yourself in the incredible sheets and snuggle down into the soft pillows, but you fully remember where you are and what today is, and you roll off the bed, with a little skip as you hop in the shower. You and Javi are spending an entire day at the film festival, you’ll get to nerd out together over favorite writers, actors, directors, and the films they’ve made before anyone else has seen them. Even though you’ve never gone to a fancy festival with film creators or anything you feel that maybe you will feel more in your element with Javi. Thinking less about what he thinks about you now that he’s seen you and just be the person he befriended because of your shared interests.

After showering and putting on the sleeveless summer dress, a light shrug of a sweater, and sandals you had picked out for the event. You put on a little lip stain, leaving your eyes make-up free (who knows how much crying you may do. It looks like there may be a tearjerker or two on the schedule). You look in the mirror a beat more, and give a sigh. Swinging your bag over your shoulder, you go to meet Javi for breakfast.

Following the delicious smell of coffee to the dining room, you find the table is ladened with a beautiful spread of fruit, toast with tomato and olive oil or jam and butter, churros, empanadas, juices, and the smell of fresh coffee, all making your stomach rumble. But it’s Javi that makes your mouth water, he is dressed simply in a white linen button-down shirt and a blue blazer, his hair a little more tamed brushed back away from his face, but still curling around his ears. How is it that the orange of yesterday's shirt looks so amazing and now the light blue too? His brows go up when he sees you, his mouth opening just a bit. Then he breaks into his wide warm smile distracting you from the desire to run your fingers through his hair, for a moment anyway.

“¡Buenos días, mi sol!” good morning, sunshine

“¡Buenos días, Javi!”

Javi brings over a carafe of coffee to the table and pulls out a chair for you. You smile and shake your head, murmuring a thank you as you sit.

“We can have omelets made or…”

“Javi, all of this looks amazing.”

You both tuck in and chat about the schedule, what you are looking forward to, and the things you don't want to miss. Finding yourselves mostly in alignment.

“Do you,” you fall quiet, biting your lip, “Do you think I’m dressed okay, I wasn't sure how dressy-”

“You look incredible!” Javi says instantly. Then he waves his hand dismissively, “You know celebrities are going to do what they do, but for the rest of us? Perfecto!”

You look down at the patterned dress and smile, as Javi adds quietly, “Plus I like sunflowers.”

After both a boat and car ride you arrive in Barcelona-Saint Jordi, you get your passes and people watch. But it seems as though Javi is elsewhere.

"Javi? Is, um,” you worry your bottom lip, “Is everything okay?”

With a sigh, Javi looks at you next to him on a small bench, then looks down.

“I am sorry for my cousin’s behavior. I am so embarrassed. He is the literal worst."

Your laugh turns to a little cough of discomfort-

“I- well, thank you Javi, I appreciate that. But I’m used to it. It, well…”

“That does not make me feel better. You should not be used to such poor treatment. I should have said something”

“Well,” you swallow, ”thank you Jav-”

“I want you to be used to hearing how beautiful you are.” Javi’s words come out in a rush, then his eyes widen slightly at his own daring. Finally, he gives you a sidelong look to assess the damage.

At this you laugh like it's joke and a little absurd, giving his arm a little hug.

“You are the sweetest.”

Javi looks at you again, wondering if you think he's just being a supportive friend. Your tone makes him think so, and it leaves him at war with himself. He's not sure how you feel. Part of him is relieved in a way, and part of him desprately wants you to know. He wants to be courageous, to take the plunge! But maybe now isn't the time. While he's thinking about courage and plunges, you start to pull at his sleeve. When he looks at you, you give a little nod with your eyes going to the right. Javi looks, and there was Randell Cobb. Javi’s eyes go comically wide, making you giggle, and he starts flipping through his program.

“I did not even know he was still acting, “Javi hisses. “He was in-”

“Raising Arizona, I know,” you say excitedly.

“Of course you do,” he squeezes your knee, which is bare since the skirt of your dress is slightly hiked from sitting. It sends a shot of warmth up your thigh. “I mean he’s done other things but that was by far the best…”

“Is he in one of the films? He must be, right?”

Javi dives back to his program, and you keep watching everyone arrive.

After the opening remarks and the first film, you head to lunch and just walk around taking everything in. Javi has an almost permanent blush from the amount of people wondering what movie he's in, if he is an actor or model.

“It is very complimentary, of course… but all I want to do is tell them, ‘no I am a screenplay writer, read my script!!! Please!’”

"Well, you look like you belong here, no doubt. Handsome, tan, beautifully tailored clothes…"

Javi tugs you into an alcove, warm hands running up and down your arms.

"You belong here. You are a wonderful writer, and fantastic film and character analyst. Your breakdowns are one point!"

"I am a chubby (at best) woman, in a fifty dollar dress and a haircut that cost about the same, and I was splurging…"

"You got this lovely dress for fifty dollars? Wow."

You purse a tight smile and then laugh.

"Yes you can get one at TJMaxx, at a strip mall near you!"

A pair of glamorous willowy actors pass your little hiding place.

"You could fit two of these actresses in one of them."

"I like the one who is filling it right now," Javi says shyly, "and how she is filling it."

His hands traverse your hips.

Javi feels the soft plush curve of them, and his sigh carries a small, pleased hmm with it.

"Is this alright?" He whispers.

Your brain's throwing up .exe errors.

Your breathless "yeah" is almost a gasp. Javi is touching you, and liking what he feels through the gauzy fabric.

"We've got two more movies and then we go back to the hotel… but um-"

You mouths crash together. You both do your level best to be quiet, as Javi crowds you into the corner of the alcove behind a palm of some kind.

Part 3

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[theywhowriteandknowthings]

Murder Daddy Kinktober 2023 Day 26 Somnophilia with Javi G

NSFW 18+ minors DNI. Warnings: Somnophilia, sleep sex, consensual somnophilia, Javi having dark thoughts, cnc, consensual non-consent (if you squint), Javi being a bad boy, dry humping/pillow humping, wet dreams, unprotected PiV (wrap it up folks). Let me know if I missed anything!

Thank you to @pastelnap and @beefrobeefcal for beta'ing this <3 You two are the best <3

Word count: 921

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Read on AO3

Javi is entranced; your bare ass is shoved right up against his painfully hard cock as he fights a dark urge forming in his mind, spurred on by the hard grind of your ass up his length as you move. You’ve got a pillow between your legs, which isn’t unusual, you’d once explained to Javi that you don’t like to feel the bones in your knees touch when you sleep. You’re so often such a light sleeper Javi is amazed you hadn’t woken yourself up.

No, what’s unusual is the way you’re using the pillow, grinding against it vigorously as you whine and moan freely into the night air. In the process, you woke Javi up, grinding sinfully against him as you used the pillow to get off in your sleep.

“Hermosa, are you awake?”

He breathes into your ear, he gets no answer as he resists the urge to act on his depraved desires. It’s like a sharp tingle at the base of his skull, willing him to just touch you, move his arm from around your waist to your thigh. Just a subtle shift from how you two always slept pressed to one another.

“Mi amor, you’re making this so difficult.” Javi’s voice is no more than a whisper, any illusion that he was trying to rouse you flimsy as if he wanted to stop, to wake you up and make sure you were ok he could do so. Just a simple shake of your shoulder or he could raise his voice.

But he doesn’t want you to wake up.

You’d always said he could wake you up with sex, or even fuck you while you slept if by some miracle you didn’t wake up, you were fine with it. If anything, it got you going far more than your staunchly feminist brain should allow. But here you are, unceremoniously dead to the world, and taunting him.

Just one touch, he convinces himself, will be enough. So, he slides his hand lower, rolling you a little more flat against him, spreading your thigh just enough so he can dip his thick middle finger through your wet folds. And he near comes on the spot as he feels the ample wetness between your perfect folds.

“¡Ay, Dios! Estáis tan mojado.”

He growls into your shoulder as he reaches your entrance. You’re soaked and he’s starting to care less and less about whether he should do this. He whines into your damp skin as he pushes two fingers into your willing, wet heat. You have to have come at least once with how wet you are, and that only spurs Javi on.

“Such a dirty girl.”

He mumbles as he slowly positions his tip between your parted folds, carefully removing the pillow as he hooks your left leg back over his own. He pulls you back onto his cock slowly, relishing the way you whine as he fills you up. Your walls clamp down on him at the intrusion and he has to stop himself from rutting into you like a man possessed.

He wants you to stay asleep for as long as he can. He feels guilty, there’s a delicious taboo to this, even if you have explicitly stated on many occasions that you want him to do this. He wants to bite you, such angry marks into your skin, but he can’t, not if you’re to stay asleep.

He sets a low, almost tender pace as he feels you clamp around him, walls fluttering with every stroke as he gently circles your clit.

“Come on mi amor, give me another, I know you can.” His voice is no more than a whisper as he knows he’s close. The whole scenario driving him insane as he pumps a little harder into you, panting in low groans as he’s almost there.

“Javi?” Your sleepy moan startles him and he whines in your ear as he comes hard inside you, the pressure of getting caught too much and he snaps his hips hard, pulling you down on his cock as he paints your insides with his spend. His fingers toy with your clit and you see stars as you come hard on his cock as he empties himself inside you.

“Fuck Javi!” You cry out as the realisation dawns on you, and you push back on his dick, letting him bury himself inside you as he pants meek apologies into your neck. Shame and guilt making him weak as he begs for your forgiveness.

“Ay, Papi?” You pull yourself off him, rolling over to cup his flushed cheeks with your hands, soothing him with quiet assurances as he refuses to open his eyes.

“I’m so sorry mi amor, I couldn’t help it.”

“Papi, you have nothing to apologise for, look at me.”

Javi reluctantly opens his eyes to see you grinning up at him like a Cheshire Cat.

“You’re not mad?”

“Of course not, that was so fucking hot, I’d only be mad,” You say with a sultry purr as you palm his softening cock, “If you weren’t going to treat me with round two.”

“Fuck.” Javi growls as you begin to pump his swiftly hardening length.

“You’re such a dirty girl.”

“Don’t you know it, now fuck me Javi, fuck me until I pass out, then fuck me again if you want.”

Javi responds only by rolling you onto your back, lining himself up at your entrance as the blood rushes to his cock at your command.

“As you wish, princesa.”

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[musings-of-a-rose]

I have a request. Im going deaf and use asl. Can you write a fanfic with Joel or Frankie or Javi or Marcus or Pedro being married to a deaf woman? Falling in love dating and marrying? Post outbreak? It can be trying at times for me to date. And I love the smut and fluff 😜 thanks

For You

Pairing: Javi G x ofc Ally

Word Count: 2700+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: I got a request from @jedi-in-crocs : I have a request. Im going deaf and use asl. Can you write a fanfic with  Joel or Frankie or Javi or Marcus or Pedro being married to a deaf woman? Falling in love dating and marrying? Post outbreak? It can be trying at times for me to date. And I love the smut and fluff 😜 thanks (Ally)

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**Reader is not described

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Javi G Masterlist 

Market day in Mallorca was always a beautiful affair. Rows and rows of tents adorned the streets, bursting with vibrant colors of fresh fruits and veggies, various paintings, clay jars and mugs, the smells of homemade snacks and treats filling the air as people bustled past each other, lightly bumping shoulders with each other as they set their eyes on something they want. 

But Javi's favorite row was for the flowers. Beautiful blooms and plants bursting from various pots and glass jars, some massive and sitting in large pots on the ground, other small and dangling in the air at the end of macrame chains. He stops to look at each and every one, touching some of the petals or leaves and smiling to himself before moving on to the next. 

But today is different. As he nears the middle of the row of tents and tables, he notices a new vendor. Her area was smaller than the others, but the plants and flowers she had were breathtaking. Bright colors and green leaves strategically placed on a couple of shelved hand carved wooden tables created this ambience of tranquility despite the bustling crowd. But this was nothing compared to the woman in front of him, straightening up from placing the last of her pots on the ground, gently dabbing at her brow to rid her skin of the few beads of sweat that had accumulated. She turns and jumps when she sees Javi staring at her. 

"Oh!I'm sorry I didn't see you. Welcome! Is there anything specifically you're looking for?"

He's momentarily speechless, her green eyes shining up at him, her face framed by her auburn hair, the sun catching it at the right angle and making it glow. 

"I… I don't.." Why can't he speak? She's staring at him, a friendly smile on her face as she studies him. 

"That's ok. Are you looking for a gift for someone? Your mom or significant other?"

"Oh, no. My mother has passed and I am not… I mean, I don't have…" Javi sighs. "I am single."

Is he imagining the slight flush to her cheeks at his answer? Her eyes flick away from his for a brief moment before returning, her cheeks still a slight shade of pink. 

"Well then.. are you new to plants?" Javi nods, trying to regain his composure. "Ok great. Then may I recommend…" She looks around for a few moments before reaching for a plant with green oval shaped leaves cascading down vines out of a small hanging planter. She turns and holds it out for him, his breath catching in his throat when their fingers touch briefly at the exchange. She clears her throat a moment layer, shaking her head. 

"I uh… this is a pothos. Very easy to take care of. Water once a week or so and make sure they get some light. They're pretty sturdy."

"Th-thank you, miss…"

"Ally." She extends her hand and Javi shifts the pot into his left hand, extending his right to shake hers, his body nearly shaking when they touch. He hears her breath catch as well. Could she feel the same? 

"I-"

"Hey lady! Do you have any monstera?" A large man pushes his way past Javi, nearly knocking him over to stand in front of Ally. 

"I uh…yes. Right here." As she shows him the plants, he proceeds for tell her some long winded tale of his own garden, her eyes flicking back to Javi apologetically. After several minutes it becomes clear that he won't be leaving soon and Javi had to head home for a meeting. He sighs, pulling out some money and setting it on the table for her. At the last minute he decided to write a little note, taking the pen and paper she had set there to make notes about plant care for people. 

I hope this is enough. I'll be back next weekend to make sure.

Javi leaves the paper and makes eye contact with Ally, her small, sad smile and nod indicating she saw him leave the money. 

Javi can't stop thinking about her all week. 

—----

Javi returns every weekend for 2 months. At first, he makes up excuses for coming, looking for plants, what does a slight discoloration mean, anything he can think of to talk to her. He's never been very good at flirting or picking up signals, but she laughs at all of his jokes, blushing whenever he compliments her, and he swears he's caught her more than once checking him out. 

One weekend, Javi decides enough of enough- it's time to ask Ally out. Mayne just for coffee so if she says no, he can cover it up as a just as friends coffee. Or a thank you coffee. Something. 

Javi walks to her stand, waiting a moment to watch her, back to him as she moves about arranging her plants, her fingers lightly brushing against petals and Javi imagines what it must feel like to have those same fingers brush against his skin, digging into his arms as they meld their bodies together…

He shakes his head. Now isn't the time for lewd thoughts. It wouldn't help his nerves. Javi stops at the entrance to her booth, giving her space to move about. 

"Hi Ally. Got anything new today?"

She doesn't turn around, still moving about her plants. Javi clears his throat a little louder than he normally would. Still, she doesn't move. No turning to give him her brilliant smile that warms him up. Did he do something wrong? Say something wrong? His brain works fast, playing through all of their interactions. Nothing seemed amiss. Could he have misread something? 

"She can't hear you." The vendor next to Ally says as she comes to stand next to Javi. 

"What?"

"Her aids are being repaired so she doesn't have them today."

His eyebrows pull together. "Aids?"

"Hearing aids. Did you not see them?"

He hadn't. He was too taken in by her sweet words and gorgeous eyes, her obvious love for the plants she so lovingly cares for. When he doesn't reply, the woman turns more towards him. 

"She's losing her hearing. It'll be totally gone one day, I think. At least that's what she told me. She taught me some basic signs too in case she didn't have her aids. Lovely girl."

Javi watches the back of Ally, still tending the plants she loves so much. "I have to go. Can you tell her 'Javi has some work to do but he'll be back soon?'" 

The woman nods and Javi thanks her, turning promptly on his heel and heading straight for his car, pulling out his phone to call his assistant to help him with his task. 

—----

A month later, Javi nervously approaches Ally's booth. What if she's mad at me? I hope I did not distress her too much. He swallows hard, taking the last few steps to her booth, watching her brush dirt from her hands, fingers rubbing gently on the gardening apron she always wore. She turns and sees him, eyes locking on his as she freezes, her eyes studying him, her focus slightly upset. She opens her mouth to speak but before she can, Javi raises his hands, willing the nerves to leave him as he starts to move. 

[Signed]"I am sorry I have not come. Your neighbor-" He points to the lady in the next booth over. "- told me about your hearing and how you use ASL-"

Her eyes well up. [Signed] "You know ASL?"

Javi shakes his head. [Signed] "I didn't. I spent the last month starting to learn it for you."

Pure shock flashes across her face as she points to herself. [Signed] "For me? Why?"

Javi takes a few steps towards her, closing the distance between them. He brushes a short strand of her auburn hair from her face, the sunlight glinting slightly off of the tiny tube connecting her hearing aids to the ear mold and he smiles, meeting her eyes. 

[Signed] "Because I always want to be able to talk to you, hear your thoughts. Anything you have to say."

Their eyes lock onto each other and he glances down at her lips, slightly parted. He brings his hands up slowly to cup her cheeks, giving her every chance to pull back. Instead, she grips his shirt, pulling him closer as their lips meet, soft and wanting. He wraps an arm around her, pressing his tongue to her lips as she eagerly responds. After several seconds, the lady in the booth next to Ally clears her throat and Javi pulls back, glaring slightly at the woman. Ally follows his gaze and looks at the woman, who is now smirking. Javi puts his finger on Ally's cheek, turning her head back to his. 

[Signed] "Will you have dinner with me?"

Ally smiles wide, brightening the entire area and warming Javi up as she nods enthusiastically. "I'm free tonight?"

Javi chuckles. "I'll pick you up at 8 for dinner."

—-----

Javi thinks he's never seen someone more beautiful than her. The dress she wore fits her perfectly, enhancing her physical features, but it's more than that. As Javi listens to her talk about cross pollination, he watches her confidence grow with her excitement about her plants, a non stop stream of words and he drinks in every one, his chin leaning on his fist as he watches her, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

"And oh my God I've been talking the whole time, haven't I?" She blushes, hiding her face behind her hands, elbows propped on the table.

"No, no. Please continue. I love watching you talk."

She lowers her hands and looks at him. "Watching me talk?"

"Yes. The way your passion for what you do pours out of you, touching anyone near you." 

Her face heats up more and she fans herself for a moment. "You flatter me too much, Javi." 

He catches her eye and signs. "That's because I really like you."

As dinner continues, he learns more about her. Her childhood, how she ended up in Mallorca, how her illness is causing her to lose her hearing, eventually a total loss. So she wanted to spend time listening to the small sounds, the way the wind moves through pine needles, the way water splashes against the leaves, the way grass flows against the breeze. 

"Can I show you something?" Javi asks as he nervously offers his arm to Ally as they exit the restaurant. She takes it almost instantly, leaning into him and making his ears feel warm. 

"Of course. Anywhere you'd like to go, I'm there."

Javi helps her into his jeep, driving back towards the compound. The guards let him in and he drives down the winning dirt road, turning down a nearly hidden path. He follows it down until it clears a little, overlooking the water. He reaches behind him, grabbing a thick blanket from the backseat before getting out of the jeep, walking around to offer his hand to Ally, helping her out of the jeep. Their fingers lace together as she follows him towards a small, clear space where he puts the blanket down, spreading it out. He offers his hand again, grinning at Ally as she sits, laying down next to him when he lays down. 

"You see those stars there?" He points to the sky and Ally follows his fingers, squinting at the rapidly darkening sky. 

"Yeah I think so."

"That's the Scorpius constellation."

"Really?"

"No idea."

She laughs, turning her head to him and finding him already looking at her, a faint smile on his face. She watches him back, eyes roaming over his handsome face, with his prominent nose and curls you just want to touch. She leans in and Javi meets her halfway, their lips crashing together as she slides her fingers around his head, tugging at the curls at the back of his neck. Javi feels his pants tighten even more and he pulls back, his eyes moving between hers, his eyebrows raised in question. She replies by gripping his shirt, pulling him to her as she unbuttons his shirt, sliding it off his broad shoulders, only breaking the kiss for Javi to toss his shirt somewhere over his shoulder, both of them giggling as he lays her back, slotting himself between her spread legs. 

He holds himself above her, his soft lips pressing to hers as he grinds himself against her, feeling her heat beneath his pants. Then her fingers are at his pant line, fumbling to open his button and the kiss breaks, his forehead pressed to hers as she manages to open the button, sliding his pants down just enough for him to spring out, hard and wanting. He pulls his head back just enough to look at her, his own lust echoed in the depths of her eyes.

[Signed]”Are you sure?”

She nods. “Yes. Please, Javi, I need you.”

He slides his hand up her bare thigh, pressing his fingers between her thighs and moaning as he feels how wet she is for him, her own moan at his light touch mixing with his. She grips his hand, showing him how to touch her, his thick fingers sending jolts of pleasure out from where he touches her. But then he pushes her panties aside, Ally silently grateful for wearing a dress as he touches her, his skin on hers, sliding his fingers and touching her how she showed him. Her release comes from nowhere, a loud gasp and moan coming from her as her back arches, her body tensing with pleasure. Her back lowers, her chest heaving as she looks up at Javi, his eyes nearly black in the low light and she wraps her legs around him, trying to get him to move. He smiles and presses his hips forward, slowly pushing into her as he watches her face contort with pleasure at the feel of him stretching her open, small pants puffing out into his face until he bottoms out. Javi stays like that, pulling out only a little before pushing in, just to give her a moment, until he feels her hands grasping at his back, her heels digging into his ass and he gets the hint. He sets a comforting pace, not too rough and not too light, adding in his signature thrust that has her pulsing around him, his name tumbling from her lips as he comes with her, unable to resist the feel of her engulfing him. 

They stay like that for several minutes, her fingers lightly tracing a mindless pattern across his sweaty, bare back, their breathing syncing together. Slowly, Javi pulls out, a hiss on his lips as he pats at the ground for his shirt, helping to clean her up with it before himself. He chucks the shirt on the ground again, laughing lightly with Ally before laying back down, pulling her close to him as he feels her hand on his chest. He presses a kiss to the top of her head as they watch the stars. 

6 months later, they get married, happy to spend the rest of their days with each other, thankful that Javi stopped in the market that day.

—----

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[absurdthirst]

What A Difference A Day Makes {Javi Gutierrez x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 8.4k

Warnings: Somnophilia, oral sex (male receiving), cum play, pregnancy, hormones, mentions of cheating, stalkers, kidnapping, angst, forced c-sections, mentions of murder, medical trauma, childbirth, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, vaginal sex

Comments: Life is fantastic. Your fiancé is incredibly sweet and his writing career has taken off. With a baby on the way, everything is perfect. Until him hiding a small secret from you alters life completely when an unhinged woman kidnaps you to take your baby, and your spot in Javi's life.

🚨🚨DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT - This story contains dark themes of kidnapping, attempted murder, forced c-sections🚨🚨

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Javi Gutierrez MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You smile as you admire your fiancé. The way the morning sun shines onto his face as he remains asleep. You woke up before him, needing to pee, and you noticed the way his cock is hard, laying on his tummy, and you couldn’t resist. He fucked you last night, leaving both of you to fall asleep naked, but you want more of him. You reach down, pushing the sheet lower so you can wrap your fingers around his cock. He grunts, making you smile, and you lean in to kiss along his neck. He groans, still asleep, and you love how he twitches in your grip.

Javi doesn’t want to wake up but he had to. The most wonderful feeling is wrapping around his cock and he knows what it is without even opening his eyes. “You are insatiable, my love.” He rasps out, his normally soft voice rough with sleep and he turns his head, seeking you out before he even looks at you. The curve of his lips is loving and he is always enchanted with how you look first thing in the morning. “Do you need me to fuck you again?” He asks. “Did I not do it right last night?” He is joking, you had screamed his name and nearly collapsed against him in pleasure but he likes you to admit that you just need him.

“You know you did it right last night.” You tease, kissing his jaw, “I need you again though. It’s the hormones. Have me horny for you all the damn time.” You chuckle softly, continuing to pump his cock. You love how he looks when he just wakes up, hair all over the place.

“Hmmm.” His eyes slip back closed and his head tilts back slightly, exposing his throat and the lines of his neck in pleasure. “Those hormones of yours do keep my cock busy.” He jokes. “Though it was my cock that made your hormones go crazy.”

You giggle, leaning in to kiss along his throat. “That too. It’s like an endless cycle.” You murmur against his skin and you can’t wait any longer. You let go of his cock, giggling when he whines and you straddle him, reaching down to notch him at your cunt so you can sink down onto his cock. “Fuck baby. Always so damn good inside of me.” You moan, placing your hands on his chest. Your bump makes it impossible for you to lean down and kiss him nowadays.

“Bonita.” Javi groans, reaching up to hold onto your thick waist, even thicker now that you are growing his child inside you. Life is perfect for him, the movie with Nic has led to two more movies. The last one, where he met you, was his favorite. It had brought the love of his life to him, a chance meeting on set by one of the actresses led to flirting, to dinner and now - eight months later - to this. “You look so good. Like an angel.”

You look down at him, knowing your hair must be a mess and your bump is huge but he’s looking at you like you hung the moon. You start to move, working your hips up and down so you sink down onto his cock, grinding him deeper inside of you. You’re addicted to him lately, unable to get enough, and it’s frustrating that he has to dedicate time to write his latest script. You’ve been out of work since you got pregnant, Javi insisting that you stay at home, and you’ve been nesting, turning his bachelor pad into a family home perfect for welcoming your son when he is born. “I love you.” You murmur, cupping his cheek and your heart flutters when he turns his head to kiss your palm. You start to pick up your pace, rocking your hips and you are close but you need his hands. “Can you rub my clit, babe? Just need a little more.”

“Whatever you need.” Javi promised, cock twitching deep inside your tight walls as he slides his hand across the roundness of your belly. He loves you like this. The ‘oops’ became his fondest joy when he realized you were not upset. He can take care of you while you are pregnant, he wants to take care of you. To keep you safe. His thumb presses against your soaked clit and he groans. “Someone is needy, amor. Do you want to scream my name again?”

You nod, loving how he expertly touches you, knowing exactly what you need. “Yes. Yes. Always do, my love. You - you are always so good to me.” You pant, rocking down and using his chest as the leverage you need to pick up the pace, his thumb pressing against your clit just right. “Fuck Jav. I - I’m gonna-” You choke as you clamp down on his cock, so easily worked up nowadays due to your pregnancy. Combined with the gorgeous man beneath you, you cry out his name as you cum around his cock.

Javi groans out your name, loving how you fall apart for him, he stops rubbing your clit, just holding his thumb against it while you quake with pleasure. Wanting you to ride it out completely before he moves. “Muy bonita, amor.” He hums, caressing your side.

You love how he’s looking at you and you shift off of his cock. “Want you to cum down my throat for me baby.” You shuffle down the bed between his thighs. You grip his cock, bending down on your knees to take him into your mouth. His groans of protest make you chuckle and you pull off of his cock to look up at him. “How do you wanna cum? Want me to jerk you off? Cum on my tits and bump? Or you want to fuck me?”

He bites his lip, pulling you up off his cock. “I want to cum on your tits and bump.” He confesses, knowing that it will be sexy to you. Since you’ve been pregnant he’s loved painting your skin with his seed. Marking you like he obviously has. He loves seeing you wear his cum. “Please baby, want to see you covered in it.”

You nod, shifting to lay down and he scrambles to kneel between your legs. You reach for his cock after you spit into your hand, pumping his length just how he likes. You love the way he’s looking down at you, his hungry eyes taking in your body. At first, you were worried he wouldn’t like the changes your body has gone through but he loves it, admitting he has discovered a pregnancy kink. “Cum for me Javi. Want you to cum on me.”

He owes you so fucking much. He had been so lonely here. Determined to make it in L.A. and not go back to Spain, he didn’t want to deal with the family business left in shambles. He wasn’t a violent or confrontational person. He just wanted to make movies. Coming here, meeting you, it has been amazing and he doesn’t regret it for a moment. You allow him to explore sexually too, being an amazing lover and not making him feel foolish for his want for affection. “So fucking beautiful.” He groans, brows furrowed and his toes start to curl. “I’m not- I’m gonna cum, baby.” He warns you, just like he always does. Groaning when he feels his balls pull tight and you smirk at him right before his cock explodes, coating your tits with the first hot rope of his cum.

You smile, watching him as more cum coats your tits and down to your bump. His jaw clenched as he cums and you work him through it until he’s gently batting your hand away. You are painted with his seed and you can’t resist swiping your finger through a streak to bring it to your mouth, sucking off the salty essence.

“Fuck, fuck you’re so good to me.” Javi pants, a dopey, happy grin on his face as he tries to catch his breath. It was an amazing wake up call. “Lay back, bonita. I will get the rag to clean you up. Are you hungry? Thirsty?” He wants to take care of you, to make sure you have everything you need while you are carrying his child and thankfully, you let him fuss.

“I’m always hungry.” You joke, “and thirsty. Your baby has me craving the Spanish omelet you make.” You bite your lip, watching him shuffle off of the bed to grab a rag for you. 

“I can make you that, amor. You want some tea?” He asks and you nod, heart fluttering when he tenderly cleans you up. He’s so sweet and yet he’s fiercely protective over you, especially since you’ve been pregnant. His popularity has grown exponentially since his second movie and he has fans now, especially since he went on Jimmy Fallon to promote his new movie with Nic. 

“Thank you.” You shift to stand up, waddling slightly since you’re nearly eight months. “I love you.” You murmur, kissing his jaw while you take the rag into the bathroom to put it in the laundry basket. You need to pee and brush your teeth before you get ready for the day.

“I love you too.” Javi grins at you before he turns to grab some boxers to throw on. He can’t remember if the housekeeper is coming today or tomorrow and he doesn’t want a repeat of three months ago when she walked in on him pouring you a bowl of cereal naked. “I will go get started on your tea and omelet, amor.” He calls out, smiling to himself. He can make you breakfast, get you set up and then work for the rest of the morning on his newest movie idea. 

Once you’re dressed, you head into the kitchen to find Javi just finishing up breakfast, and your stomach twists at how hot he looks cooking for you. “Thank you baby.” You kiss him softly when he sits down beside you at the kitchen counter. You take a bite of the omelet, groaning softly and the baby kicks his approval inside of you. When you have a few bites, you grab the mail sitting on the side, going through it and you see your name on an envelope with no address. You frown, opening it to see a piece of paper, blank except for “see you soon x” on it. “Javi. Do you know what this is about?” You don’t like it. A chill running down your spine and your instinct tells you it’s about Javi. Maybe he’s cheating on you.

Javi looks over at the letter and his eyes widen, quickly reaching out and snatching it from your hand. “Nothing, amor.” He stammers slightly. “Just something that I was thinking of. A surprise for you.” He shakes his head and laughs, grabbing the rest of the mail before you can look through it. “They must of been mistaken because I decided not to do it.” His lie is flimsy but he goes with it anyway. “You have your tea, so I need to get to work, okay?” He rushes around the counter and kisses your forehead before speeding out of the kitchen. 

You frown, watching him rush off, and immediately you’re suspicious. You had no reason to think that Javi is cheating on you until now. He’s sweet and kind and everything you have been searching for in L.A that seems impossible to find in most men. He’s handsome and successful and you realize that a lot of women would offer him her body for the chance to step up the ladder in the industry. You’re not stupid but you had hoped Javi wasn’t the type, especially when you’re pregnant. 

You push the omelet away, suddenly not hungry, and decide to go for a drive. You need to get out of the house and think. You scribble a note for Javi to find when he’s come out of his office and after cleaning up, you leave the house, needing to get some air. 

“Shit.” You huff when you see your tank is nearly empty so you drive to the nearest gas station, getting out to fill up when a woman approaches you. “Oh look at you. How far along are you?” She asks and you smile, caressing your bump. “Nearly eight months.” You tell her and her smile turns into a smirk, immediately making your smile fall. “Perfect. It’s time.” She announces and surges forward to push a needle into your neck. Your mouth opens to scream for help but it’s too late when you pass out in her arms.

****

“I am telling you it is a threat!” Javi hisses on the phone, angry that his manager is not taking him seriously. “It doesn’t have a post mark, it had to be from the same woman!” There is a secret that Javi has been keeping from you. There have been a series of disturbing letters being sent to his manager and his offices. Talking about how she loves him and they need to be together. That she is the perfect woman for him. Later expressing her extreme displeasure for learning that he was involved with you. There had been a vaguely threatening and ominous tone to the letters, so Javi hadn’t told you about it. Not wanting you to be stressed while you are carrying his baby. Now she’s putting letters in the box, which means she is close by. “I don’t like this at all!”

“Calm down Javi. It’s probably just someone trying to throw you off your game. We had this happen a few years ago with an actor. He was in line for an Oscar and his damn ‘arch nemesis’ was sending letters to his house and our offices.” His manager practically rolls his eyes at how childish it was. “It will stop. I promise you. It’s just a prank.” His manager assures him. “Now, get back to work. The producers need a new ending asap.”

Blowing out a breath in frustration, Javi disconnects the call and crumples the letter in his hand. He needs to talk to you. Tell you to stay inside and he will get more security around the house. “Amor!” He opens the office door and walks out, looking in the living room for you, normally around this time, you are watching one of your shows that you have been binging. “Amor? Where are you?” He moves through to the kitchen, heart dropping when he sees the note on the counter, “shit!”

Javi immediately rushes back to his phone, calling you, but it goes to voicemail. He tries again, and again, but you don’t answer. He’s panicking now, trying to remember the log in to the location tracking you had opted into, both of you trusting each other so you never check it but it’s good for emergencies. He curses, hating that he can never keep the same password, but eventually he logs in and sees you on the highway, heading out into the desert. He frowns, confused and he tries calling you again. This time, the phone is answered. 

“Hey baby. I wondered when you’d call.” A female voice answers but it’s not you.

Javi’s heart drops into his stomach, pulling his phone away to make sure he hadn’t misdialed but it’s your name on the screen. He says your name cautiously. “Where is she? Let me talk to her please.” He tries to keep his voice neutral, not wanting to upset whoever is on the other end.

“She’s currently asleep right now. Pregnant women need their naps.” She tuts, “don’t worry though. She won’t be a problem for much longer.” 

Javi’s blood runs cold. “What do you mean?” He asks, trying to remain calm. 

“Didn’t you read my notes? I’ve been wanting to talk to you for so long. You’re - your writing just speaks to me. I love it. I love you. I want to be with you Javier.”

“I- that sounds interesting.” He murmurs, searching around frantically and he finds his iPad on the kitchen counter and rushes towards it. He will text his manager. “I can meet you, where are you? I always love meeting fans.”

“I don’t want to be just your fan. I want to be your wife. She’s not good enough for you. She doesn’t love you as much as I do. I would die for you, baby. So I’m gonna solve your little problem. I’m gonna get rid of her but…I - I can’t have kids and I desperately want you to be a father so I’m going to cut the baby out of her. Now, I know you’re worried about your son but it’s okay. I’m a nurse. I can figure it out.” She promises Javi, making it clear that this has been planned out.

“Mierda.” Javi’s blood runs cold and he swallows harshly. “No, uh, don’t- I mean, our baby should be born at a hospital, no?” He asks, typing desperately to his manager to call the police now. “I always imagined being there for the birth of my son. I want to - to cut the cord.” He opens the tracking app on your phone and watches as the icon moves on a deserted road, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. “Let me be there, for our son.”

She sighs, “I don’t want you to change your mind about us, honey. She needs to be gone. I don’t want her to interfere with our new life. If you want to be here, you can, but only - only if you promise to let me do my job.” 

Javi nods, “I promise. I won’t change my mind. I just want to be there for the baby. Our baby.” He manages to push the words out of his mouth, to say what he needs to say to save you. 

She hums, “fine. I’ll text you an address to meet me at then I can bring you to the house. I have her drugged up so she won’t feel a thing. If anyone is with you though baby, I’ll know and I’ll drive away and they’re dead. Both her and the baby.”

The call disconnects and Javi starts to panic. “Shit! Shit!” His hands shake as he dials his manager. “The crazy bitch has my fiancée!” He shouts as soon as she picks up the phone. “She’s going to cut our baby out of her! She says she wants to be with me. But I can’t - tell me the police are on the way!” He had sent the manager the coordinates and the log in for the tracking app, giving her access to give to the police.

****

You wince, head throbbing as you try to open your eyes. You are on a bed and you groan when you try to sit up. “You’re awake.” 

Your eyes suddenly widen, looking over at the woman from the gas station. “Who the fuck are you?” You ask, heart hammering in your chest. 

“I’m Javier’s wife. Or I will be once I get you out of the picture. He’s gonna be mine and we will raise your baby as ours.” She says, like she isn’t insane. 

“You crazy bitch.” You bark out, shaking your head, “Javi doesn’t even know who you are.” 

She chuckles, almost mockingly, “oh he does. I’ve been sending him notes for months now. Didn’t you get my letter this morning?” She asks, tilting her head and you inhale sharply, remembering the note she sent. You thought Javier was having an affair. Turns out, he was being stalked. 

“I - he wouldn’t want to be with you. He loves me. Our baby.” You retort and she scoffs, “I can’t have kids. He’s used you to get pregnant. So we can have our family.” 

You shake your head, not believing her. You need to get out of her. “I, uh, I need to pee. The baby sits in my bladder.” 

She nods, walking over to unlock your wrist from the handcuff she had attached to the bed. “Any funny business and I’ll just kill you. I can get the baby out before he dies too.” She warns and you swallow down the sob that wants to work its way up your throat. You make your way to the bathroom, peeing while you check for any windows. There aren’t any. “Shit.” You hiss, wondering how you’re gonna get out of here.

***

“Yes, Javi- God I’m so- so sorry.” His manager chokes out, horrified that this is happening. It will put a fucking halt on the screenplay and they are locked into a contract. Plus there’s the not so little issue about Javi’s fiancée and baby. She’s not a heartless monster who only thinks of business. “I told you that-“ The phone beeps and Javi pulls the phone from his ear. 

“Fuck- she’s going to pick me up from the house.” He hisses, looking at the small dot on the map where your phone is. “Fuck, the police need to get there!”

****

You sob, the reality of this situation hitting you and you cover your mouth when she knocks on the door, telling you your time is up. There's no lock on the door so you open it up, stepping out into the house again and she's standing there waiting for you. 

"Come on." She grabs your arm and you don't struggle, knowing you need to be smart. 

"Can I get something to drink? I'm thirsty." You tell her and she shakes her head. 

"No. You can't eat or drink before the surgery." She says and you frown, "surgery?" With a chuckle, she looks over at you, "the c- section silly." 

Your eyes widen and you try to get out of her grip. "No. No. It's - I'm not even eight months. He isn't ready. I - I can't - you can't -" You choke, eyes darting around the room as you try to find an escape. You scream for help, "you can't have my baby. You - you fucking psycho." You shout at her and she shakes her head. 

"I can and I will. I have the equipment to keep him healthy. I've been watching you for months and I'm sick of waiting for my baby. For Javi. I'm impatient and I'm ready to start my life. I was going to kill you that day...the day you had the flat tire. It would've been so easy to kill you but then I watched you find out about the baby. I can't have kids, you see, and I so desperately want Javier to be a father. So here we are." She explains.

"Please don't do this. Please - not the baby." You sob

****

Javi is tearing his hair out, torn between racing to the safe to grab the guns there and driving like a maniac to the blip on the screen to save you himself, and staying put in case she still has you in the car. The police are on the phone with him, the urgency of the situation finally resonating and he’s on FaceTime with his manager and the police. “Hurry.” He chokes out, shaking his head. His phone is gripped in his hand and he presses the button to call your phone again. He needs to make sure you are okay. “Where is she?” He hisses when the phone goes to voicemail. “Are they there yet? What’s taking so long?” He demands frantically, nearly in tears. 

****

The woman, whose name you still don't know, has had enough of your shrieking, and she grabs you, sticking you with a needle again. "Fucking silly bitch." She huffs and decides to go ahead and prep you for surgery. She only has so much time and she doesn't have time to pick Javi up so he can be here. She has to get started. She works fast to prep you, washing herself up and doing what she has witnessed in surgeries she has attended but she's never done this before. Taking the scalpel, she cuts across your belly, eager to get to the baby with zero regard to your health.

****

“Mr. Gutierrez, we are two minutes from the location.” 

Javi barely hears the police officer in charge of keeping him appraised as he paces in the kitchen. “I should have warned her. I should have hired private security.” He had grown lax since he had come to America. In Spain, at his compound, you would have been safe. “GO FASTER!” He screams in frustration, terrified of having you ripped from his life like everything else.

****

The police are at his house and have the body cam footage on their iPad so Javi can see what is happening. The police break the door to get in and the first thing they hear is a baby squawking. “Police!” They shout and walk into the room that’s been used as an impromptu operating room. You’re on a table, cut open and blood is everywhere while she holds a tiny baby in her gloved hands.

“Oh god.” Javi feels like he’s about to throw up. “Help her.” He demands, his voice choking up as tears spill down his face at the violence of the scene in front of him. He’s never liked blood, even in movies, but this is horrific. “Help her!” He wails, collapsing into a torrent of broken and incoherent Spanish as the idea of losing you becomes his stark reality.

The police tell the woman to put the baby down and hold her hands up. She shakes her head, “no! You can’t take my baby from me! He’s mine. My husband will be here soon. Please, listen to me. She stole my husband. She deserves to die.” She says and the police move fast. Careful of the baby in her hands, one officer takes the baby while 3 others restrain her. 

“Get the paramedics in here now.” The officer orders, having had an ambulance on arrival. She is screaming, begging Javi to help her and the paramedics rush in as she is taken away. The baby is carefully carried away for immediate medical care and the other paramedics work on helping you. All while Javi watches helplessly and unable to do anything.

“Please, please help her.” Javi sobs, dropping to his knees in front of the iPad and watches in horror. “Please.” He doesn’t pray but he is praying now for a miracle. “Where-“ he chokes out when the screen shows them swiftly lifting you onto the gurney and immediately starting to roll you out of the room. “Where are you going?” The police officer responds with the hospital they are taking you to and Javi scrambles to get to his keys, needing to meet you there.

When Javi arrives at the hospital, the nurses tell him you are in surgery. The baby is in the NICU for monitoring. “Would you like to see your son?” The nurse offers, trying to calm Javier down after he came sprinting into the hospital. Javi nods, swallowing harshly and his eyes sting from the tears he’s cried. He follows her through the hallways until she opens the door and points to the incubator. “You have a son, congratulations.”

Javi stumbles forwards. Sobbing at the sight of his son covered in tubes and attached in wires. Unable to hold him because he was ripped out of your body in such a cruel way. “Mi hijo.”he murmurs, frowning and shaking his head. It’s not right that you aren’t here, that you aren’t cooing over him. 

“Mr. Gutierrez, what do you want us to put the baby’s name-“ 

Javi shakes his head. “No. We- I won’t name him until she can be there.” He chokes out, remembering how you said you wanted to decide after seeing his sweet face. “He needs to be with her.” He demands suddenly, turning back to the nurse. “As soon as she’s out of surgery. He needs to be in the room with her. Their own private room.”

The nurse nods, knowing that she shouldn’t allow that but you’ve been through enough. Javi reaches into the side to touch his son’s tiny hand and he chokes when the baby grips his finger. He doesn’t know how long he stands there until the doctor finds him. “Mr. Gutierrez, your fiancée is out of surgery. She’s in recovery. She lost a lot of blood so we did a transfusion and she - the woman who cut her - did it too deep and with the wrong tools. We tried to repair but…but in the end we had to perform a hysterectomy. She will not be able to have any more children.”

Javi closes his eyes, Devastated that you have lost the ability to have more kids. It was a joke that you would have ten more. Not that he cared about it as long as you were alive, but he hates that you don’t have the choice anymore. “I want to see her. Now.” He demands when he opens his eyes again. “The baby too. Both of them. I need them together. Please.” He begs the doctor, feeling like he has to be able to have both of you where he can keep an eye on you. He almost lost you at the hands of a madwoman.

The doctor agrees, knowing better than to argue with a man who nearly lost everything. He is escorted to your room, the baby pushed alongside him and situated in the room where you are unconscious still. “They are alive, there is still a long road ahead but they are here.” The nurse reassures him after she checks on you and leaves, letting Javier walk over to you.

“Shit.” Javi drops into the chair beside your bed and picks up your hand, limp in his. “This is my fault, amor.” He moans, hating himself for not protecting you. You are so still and he knows you will be wrecked when you learn what happened. “I should have warned you. I thought she just- she wanted me. They told me it wasn’t unusual to have obsessive fans. That our security we had was enough.”

Javier sits there for another twenty minutes, just silent except for the baby’s oxygen going and your machines beep as you wake up. Blinking and wincing are the harsh hospital lights. “Ja-” You try to croak out his name but your throat is so dry. 

“I’m here, hermosa. I’m here.” He says, inhaling deeply as he stands to hover over you. 

You try to figure out what’s going on, your hands shaky as they find your stomach. It’s now flat and you start to panic, your machines going crazy. “Baby.” You choke out as it comes back to you. The psycho woman and how she was going to cut your baby out of you.

“He’s safe.” Javi rushes out to assure you. “He’s safe, he’s right here!” The machines start to alarm as your pulse and blood pressure sky rocket with anxiety and panic. Alerting the nurses who come pouring into the room and push him out of the way so they can see to you. “I’m here, amor!” Javi promises, looking over their shoulders and trying to catch sight of you as you start to struggle and fight against him. “Our son is safe! You are safe!”

You hear his words and force yourself to calm down, not wanting to be sedated again. You pant, your entire body feels like it’s been hit by a truck and you slump back onto the bed. “Javi.” You call, needing him when the nurses tell you to keep calm, you need to relax. You inhale deeply, gripping Javier’s hand when he comes to stand beside you. “Where is he?” You ask, your heart in agony when you think of your son. 

“He’s here. He’s in an incubator and he’s healthy but they are monitoring him since he’s early. He’s so beautiful, amor. He’s perfect. She didn’t hurt him.” Javier promises and you tilt your head, wanting to see the baby. 

Javi watches you cry as you look over at the baby, his own tears a product of guilt and relief that both of you are okay. “He is here, amor. He won’t be taken from this room. I made them put you together.” The doctors had been understanding and assured him that the baby would be tested here if need be. Javi chokes out a small sound. “I am so sorry, amor. I should have protected you.”

You shake your head, squeezing his hand. "You didn't know." You choke, "how could you - you have known?" You sniff, feeling Javier wipe your tears with his free hand. 

"I - the letter you got this morning...it was from her. I've been receiving them at the office and I - I didn't think she knew where we lived until you opened the one at the house." You stare at him, mouth open in shock that he knew about her to some extent. You let go of his hand, feeling a little betrayed that he didn't tell you.

Javi reaches for your hand again, his heart cracking when you pull away from his touch. “Sweetheart, I didn’t - I didn’t want to worry you.” He rushes out to explain. “You were carrying the baby. They said it was probably nothing, I didn’t want you to worry.” His eyes are pleading with you to understand but you won’t even look at him. “I didn’t know. I just - she was obsessed with me. I didn’t know she would attack you.”

"You didn't tell me, Jav. How - what else haven't you told me?" You choke, wondering if he's been keeping more secrets from you. 

He sits down, inhaling deeply, and he's trying to accept that you will hate him after this next thing. "The doctors...she didn't cut you open properly and they - they tried to fix it but they couldn't so they...they had to give you a hysterectomy." 

You inhale deeply, barely even able to process the news before you burst into tears, sobbing again. That woman has taken so much from you. “Go away.” 

The words freeze Javi’s heart and he immediately starts to tear up again, knowing he’s going to lose you and his son over a woman who he hadn’t even known. “Amor-“ 

“Go away!” You scream through your tears, making his face scrunch up to try to stop the wall of tears that start flooding out of his eyes. “I don’t want you here.” 

Javi lurches out of his chair, unable to say anything and he knows it won’t make any difference. This morning he had woken up with the perfect life and now it’s destroyed. He pushes out of the door and stumbles down the hall to collapse against the hospital wall, sobbing as he sinks down to the ground. 

You sob, mourning the children you can never have and you know, deep down, that Javi couldn't control this woman giving you a botched c-section but he could've told you so you were aware. 

The baby starts to cry and you stop yourself sobbing, pushing yourself to get out of bed despite the absolute agony you are in, barely able to move but you make it to the incubator and look down at your son for the first time. He looks just like his daddy. "Hey, my little love." You coo, tears still running down your cheeks as you reach in to caress his tiny hand, sobbing when he grabs your finger. You wish Javi was here but he's gone and you don't know if he will come back. You shouldn't have sent him away but you need time to process.

Javi sits outside the door, broken but unable to leave the hospital. He can’t, he can’t leave you. Not after everything that happened. He knows you are inside that room, safe with his son. Tears dried, and he could do nothing but just sit on the floor, staring at the door to your room in hollow eyed agony. He’s fucked up more than he ever had before and you hate him.

You sit there staring at your son for as long as you can until the nurses come in to offer you food and check on you and the baby. The doctor comes in and tells you that tomorrow they will take the baby off of oxygen to see how he does. If he’s breathing on his own, you can hold him. “What do you want to name him?” She asks and you bite your lip. 

“I was going to name him with Javi. We were going to decide together.” 

The nurse comes over to you and lays her hand on your shoulder, “he’s been sitting outside for hours. He hasn’t left you.” She announces and your heart flutters, knowing he could’ve gone home. 

“Can you send him in?” You ask and she nods. The medical staff leave you and you watch as the door opens, Javi standing in the doorway. 

“Hi.” He murmurs and you pat the spot beside you on the bed. 

“Come here. We need to name our son.”

Javi slowly moves over towards the two of you. His eyes fluttering between you and the baby, longing so deep in his eyes. Gently sitting down, he tucks his hands together between his thighs and looks over at you hesitantly. “What do you want to name him, am-“ He stops himself from calling you ‘amor’, sure that you don’t want that. You are angry at him and you have every right to be. You almost died because of him.

You had discussed some names but decided to wait. You thought you’d have another six weeks to decide. “I…I know we discussed the name Nicolas. After Nic. I think it suits him. Plus, his entry into the world was like a goddamn horror movie. Nicolas…Alejandro…after your grandfather?” You suggest, looking at Javier. His maternal grandfather was his favorite, shaking his love of cinema. You are still grieving the loss of your future children but you can’t fully blame Javier, he was doing what he thought was best.

If it had been any other time, Javi would have lit up at naming his son after his favorite actor. But he can’t muster the energy, too heartbroken. “If that is what you wish to name him.” He agrees softly, looking at the baby as he sleeps inside the incubator and wishes he could hold him. “It is your choice.” Javi can be a bit morose at times and right now he is spiraling inside, only able to ground himself by looking at his son.

“Javi.” You murmur and he doesn’t look at you. “Javi, look at me.” You request and he turns his head to meet your eyes, his are full of guilt and sorrow. “Please…I can’t - I’ve already lost so much. I don’t want to lose you too. I love you Javi. Did you mess up by not telling me? Yes. Did you make that psycho kidnap me and give me a botched c-section? No. You didn’t directly cause this and I- I’m gonna be hard to handle through the coming weeks as I process this. I’m still in shock to be honest, but please don’t make me go through it alone. Don’t let her win. I love you, even after everything, I still love you. I can’t lose you too. Our son needs you. I need you.”

“I would never leave you.” Javi’s voice wavers slightly and he blinks back a new set of tears. “I- I don’t - I thought I was going to lose you. Terrified of it. And then you-“ he shakes his head, knowing that it won’t do any good to blame you when you had told him to go. “I would never leave you.” He reiterates, his voice firmer.

You reach for his hand, squeezing it and you lean in to press your forehead against his. “I love you Javier, always have, always will. I’m so sorry I can’t give you the big family you wanted.” You choke, tears stinging in your eyes.

“I don’t care.” Javi promises you, reaching up and wiping away your tears as they spill over your lashes. “If you ever wanted to expand our family beyond our son, we could look into it.” He would never be opposed to that, “but I will be happy to just have you and Nicolas for the rest of my life.”

You lean in to press your lips to his, soft but loving, and you know the weeks ahead are going to be hard but you can do it if you have him beside you. Javier and Nicolas are all you care about right now. Your perfect morning turned into a nightmare but you still have the man you love and your baby. The future is going to be bright, you’ll make damn sure it is. You won’t let that psycho win.

****

To say that Javi hadn’t slept is an understatement. Propped up on his elbow, he watches your stead breathe as you still get your rest. Eyes soft with love and protective as your brow creases slightly. He can only hope you aren’t dreaming right now, the nightmares always get bad leading up today. Leaning in, he drops a soft kiss on your shoulder and the sunlight starts to filter in from the curtains.

You wake with a gasp, sensing Javier’s kiss on your shoulder, and you smile when you see him looking down at you. “Morning baby, did you sleep?” Your smile turns into a frown when you see the dark circles under his eyes and you trace them softly until he grabs your hand and gently kisses your fingertips. 

“I was watching you sleep.” He admits and you slide your hand down his chest. 

“That’s not creepy.” You joke, leaning in to kiss his jaw. “I didn’t have any nightmares.” You reveal, relieved that you didn’t dream about the night Nicolas was cruelly brought into this world. Therapy has been a great tool for you to process, even three years later.

“That’s good, amor.” Javi ducks his head down to press his lips against yours softly. “I wanted to be awake if you needed me.” He admits, slowly winding his arms around your sleep-warm body and pulls you closer. “I also checked on Nicolas every hour.” He admits, knowing that his need to protect you may border on obsession. He had moved you from the house that anyone had known and put you up in a home that had a secure wall around it for his own peace of mind.

You smile, kissing him again. He makes you feel so protected, maybe overly so, but since that night, you and Nicolas have been under the security of Javier. Especially since he’s become even more well known for his screenplays. “My protective husband.” You coo, kissing his jaw, “Nicolas won’t be up for another hour. I need you baby.”

“Are you sure?” Javi pulls back and looks into your eyes seriously. You had been ashamed of your scars for a long time, despite Javi assuring you that he found you as sexy as he always had. Leaving the decision to try to have them fixed up to you. But he always wants to make sure you don’t feel like he’s pressuring you. “We don’t have to, amor.”

“Yes. I’m sure.” You’ve been working through it with your therapist and you decided to not have the scars fixed. They are a reminder of what you went through and you know Javier loves you, you have slept with him, of course you have, since that night but it’s mainly been when you’ve got a dress or shirt on. You haven’t let him see you without the scars covered and you want to change that.

Javi moves, turning away and climbing out of the bed to remove his boxers. Since Nicolas, both of you have started sleeping in clothes and he never wants you to feel like you’re doing something wrong by wearing a nightgown. “I will make you feel good, amor.” He promises, sliding back into bed and shuffling under the covers so he can work his way between your thighs to eat your cunt in the dark.

“No. I want to see you.” You tell him, pushing the covers down. You bring his hands to grip the edge of your nightgown. 

“Are you sure, amor?” He asks, frowning, and you nod. “I’m sure. I want to do this. I need to do this. I want you to see all of me.” You insist, heart pounding in your chest.

Javi nods, smiling up at you before he starts to kiss his way down your body, paying special attention to the scars that had both given him Nicolas and nearly taken you from him. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, tears stinging your eyes when he presses kisses all along the scarred skin. “Javi.” You sigh, running your fingers through his hair as you fall even deeper in love with him in that moment, the way he just accepts you completely.

“So impatient.” He teases, grinning up at you even though he knows you aren’t pushing him to move on. He kisses down your stomach and the top of your mound. “Spread your legs wider, bonita.” He urges you. “I want to see the gorgeous cunt I get to eat.”

You oblige, spreading your legs wider, and his groan sends a shiver up your spine. You haven’t let him see you during the daylight for so long. To look down and see his hungry gaze…it already has you on edge. You whimper when his breath fans over your cunt and you moan his name when his tongue slides through your folds. “Oh shit, my love. That - that feels good.”

Javi is ravenous. Loving that he gets to see you, all of you, while he eats you out. One hand reaches up, squeezing your breast gently while the other tangles his fingers with yours, holding onto your hand. This is what he needs, what you need today. A reminder that you are here, Nicolas is safe and that woman will never touch you again. He flicks his tongue over your clit and sucks it into his mouth, watching your expressions as you get closer.

“Oh fuck, baby.” You pant, “always so good to me.” You squeeze his hand, closing your eyes and tilting your head into the pillow as his tongue lathes over your clit, sensing how close you are. You pant, thighs starting to shake when he sucks your clit into his mouth and you can’t help but cum with a soft cry of his name.

He moans into your flesh, loving how you are still so responsive to him. Working you through your pleasure with gradually softening sucks and then languid licks so that he doesn’t miss a drop of your juices. Smirking proudly to himself as your chest heaves. “Good, amor?” He asks, kissing your clit gently before turning his head and kissing one thigh and then the other. 

“Always so good. Come here baby. Want you inside of me.” You reach for him to drag him up your body. He obliges, shifting to hover over you and you reach between you to stroke his cock while his lips press against yours. “I love you.” You murmur, stroking his cock and he shifts to position himself between your thighs.

Javi pauses, giving you a soft smile and he leans down to brush his nose against yours. “I love you, bonita.” He coos as he rolls his hips forward and sinks into you until he is bottomed out and groaning your name.

You gasp when he pushes deep, never getting tired of how he feels inside of you. You whimper and caress his shoulders, letting him take a moment until he starts moving inside of you. “Baby. I- fuck - you feel so good. Always so good. Ever since the first time.” You tilt your head up to kiss along his jaw.

Javi groans, lowering himself to your body and holds you close. “I love you baby. So fucking much.” He turns his head and presses his lips to yours. “You feel amazing, like heaven.” He promises, slowly starting to roll his hips, wanting to stay as close to you as possible.

There’s no rush. Nicolas won’t be up yet and you love how Javier feels inside of you. Taking his time to roll his hips just right and you love the skin to skin contact. Wrapping your legs around him to pull him closer, you kiss along his jaw. God knows what you did to have a man like this love you, no matter what. He adjusts his hips and you moan softly, enjoying the way he grinds against your clit.

“Still so beautiful.” Javi murmurs, rocking his hips. He kisses along your jaw, wanting to draw this out and make you feel like the goddess you are. You are everything to him. Even more now that you were when you were carrying Nicolas. “All mine. My bonita esposa.�� You hadn’t gotten married yet but he feels like you are. He’s in it forever.

Hearing him call you his wife, even though it’s not official, sends you over the edge. He grinds into you just right and you pant out his name as you cum, clamping down around his cock. Nails digging into his arms as you cling to him, shaking beneath him.

Javi moans, loving how you squeeze him tight. His pace picks up, rocking his hips faster as he fucks you through it. Chasing his own release and he starts scattering kisses across your lips and down your neck. “Te amo, te amo.” He whines, thinking of nothing but you before he finally stiffens and pushes deep, painting your walls with his seed.

Like he said, it’s heaven. The soft morning light comes through your curtains and you breathe Javier in, enjoying the way he pants to catch his breath. “So good, my love. I love you. Love you so much.” You declare breathily, knowing today, you will both need to reassure each other as you always do when you remember what happened.

Javi smiles against your lip. “Always, mi amor.” He promises you. He nearly lost you three years ago and it’s something that he’s vowed will never happen again. You and Nicolas, you are all that matters. He honestly knows now why Nic was willing to do anything to keep his family safe.

#pedro pascal #javi gutierrez #javi g x you #javi g x reader #javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez x you #javi gutierrez x f!reader #javi gutierrez fanfiction #javi g smut #javi g fanfiction #javi g fic #dead dove fic #dead dove do not eat #dddne

[tightjeansjavi]

Little Notebook

A/N: this idea came to me when I was having a lovely conversation with @kedsandtubesocks which started off talking about Dieter and somehow we ended up on Javi G and I was like I’m thinking…personal assistant reader and Javi, being the sweetheart he is, befriends the reader, crushes hard, and treats you so well, it’s hard to not fall for him 😵‍💫 through our brain rot, Erika helped come up with the readers nickname ‘Little Notebook’ because you’re always taking notes, and he can’t go anywhere without you 🥺 thank you Erika for the brain rot and feels, I will be screaming at you about this, just so you know!

Pairing | Javi Gutierrez x f!personal assistant reader

Summary: You’re Javier Gutierrez’s personal assistant after he makes it big in Hollywood. He’s a sweetheart, and would do anything to be your man. After getting to know Javi on a personal level, you begin to fall head over heels for him the same way he has for you.

and to that anon a couple weeks ago that told me I should really finish a WIP before starting a new one..this one is for you baby 💋

I’ll start working on this whenever the inspiration begins to flourish 🤍

Chapters: TBA

#javi gutierrez #javi g x reader #javi g x you #javi gutierrez fanfiction #javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez x you #another Pedro boy added to the masterlist #pedro pascal characters #javi gutierrez x f!reader

[lincolndjarin]

sparrow's spectacles

a series of horror one shots based around different pedro characters. be warned, the dead doves are going to be remarkably inedible. installments will be tagged accordingly, all stories will be 18+ and dddne.

Installments (not in order of release dates) :

Music Box - Joel Miller x Reader

Fine Art - Javi Gutierrez x MovieStar!Reader

Avoir Elle Est Avoir Les Etoiles - Din Djarin x Bounty!Reader

The Greater Good - Ezra x Reader

Until That Boy is Mine - Dieter Bravo x Paparazzi!Reader

more information below the cut!

so so so, basically i've been working on this during my hiatus lol, most of these have outlines and drafts already written, they're all varying in length from little mini fics to longer one offs. i've been wanting to do this for ages, i offered it as like a follower celebration and nobody seemed super into it lol but i really wanted to write it so here it is lol. each photo is for one of the fics ;) but we won't know which is which until their released.

anyways this has been in the works for a while now so i really hope y'all enjoy it!! also spent several days trying to come up with alteration for that name. have i said that ro is short for sparrow on here?? god i hope so lol

dividers by @saradika-graphics !!!!

(hoping to have the first installment posted within the week)

#lincolndjarin #pedro pascal fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #joel tlou #tlou fic #joel x reader #joel x you #javi gutierrez #javi g x reader #javi g x you #javi g fanfiction #javi gutierrez x reader #javier gutierrez #din djarin x you #din djarin #din dijarin fanfiction #din dijarin x reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect #ezra prospect smut #ezra prospect x reader #ezra x reader #dieter bravo fic #dieter x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo #dark fic

[morallyinept]

A list of all my favourite JAVI GUTIERREZ Fic Recs, with the writers tagged. Includes fics I am currently reading/want to read.

PART 1

Please show some love to the writers by re-blogging and commenting on their work. 🖤

⚠️ Please ensure you check the triggers/warnings etc... on the stories themselves as some of them may not be suitable to your own particular tastes.

Watch You Watch Him Fuck His Wife - @toxicanonymity Wife!Reader Cuck!NickCage

Through Me, Dark Light, Cinema, Beautiful Boy, Killing Flowers, & Advanced Politics Of Human Sexuality Series - @psychedelic-ink

On The Right Flight - @prolix-yuy

What A Difference A Day Makes, Barista To Sugar Baby & Kinktober 22 Deep Throating - @absurdthirst

Play - @atinylittlepain

Amor De Mi Vida - @whiskeynwriting

The King's Queen Series - @wardenparker

Javi G Masterlist - @musings-of-a-rose Couldn't choose just one!

Inappropriate Waving & That Was Good - @wheresarizona

First Time's The Charm Series - @theywhowriteandknowthings

To Your Rescue, Feels Good To Be With You & La Estrella De Mi Vida Series - @flightlessangelwings

A Little Facetime - @stardustandskycrystals

Skinny Dipping - @second-axis-point M!Reader

Attention - @babydin

IRL Series - @grogusmum PlusSize!Reader

Cross My Heart Series - @din-jarhead

Fix Me Up, Buttercup - @pedros-husband M!Reader

Javi Drabble - @grogusmum

Yes - @theewokingdead

Hot Knife - @ezras--moon

Messy Annotations Series - @mirasantidotes

Take What You Need - @babykangaemoji

A Night At Javi's - @winchestershiresauce

Swimming & Show Off - @heyhilana

Kinktober Day 24 Edge Play/Praise Kink - @youvebeenlivingfictional

Insatiable - @javierpinme

Something To Eat & Beach Day - @odetodilfs M!Reader

Pegging Request - @forever-rogue

When You Were Mine Series - @ezrasbirdie

A Tale Of Two Javi's Series - @musings-of-a-rose Featuring Javier Peña

I Have To Go - @bugichor

The Beach & Movie Night - @laureliciousdefinition

Villa With A View - @starlightmornings

Is That All Mr Gutierrez? Series - @popcornforone

Let Me - @rebel-held GN!Reader

Kinktober Somnophilia - @flightlessangelwings

The Last Blockbuster - @blueeyesatnight

Kinktober Overstimulation/Bondage - @odetodilfs M!Reader

Forgotten Love - @absurdthirst

A Gift Of Light & Joy - @prolix-yuy

The Haunted Toaster - @sirowsky-stories

Formula 101 - @littlemisspascal

Their Greatest Performance - @absurdthirst Featuring Dieter Bravo MMF

Simply Javier Series - @farawayfromwanting

Snowball Fight - @ladamedusoif

Las Mañanas Contigo - @sinpathyforthedevilish

#pedro pascal characters #fic recs #javier gutierrez #javi gutierrez #javi g #javi g x you #javi g x reader #the unbearable weight of massive talent #javi g the unbearable weight of massive talent #pedro pascal fan fics #pedro pascal character stories #pedro pascal universe #sweet javi g

[psychedelic-ink]

Ooohh maybe the unresolved sexual tension trope with a bookstore au featuring Javi G?

I LOVED WRITING THIS-- thank you so much for requesting babes!!!

𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

pairing: javi gutierrez x fem!reader

genre: bookshop AU + unresolved sexual tension

word count: 901 i'm still counting this as a drabble lmao

summary: as perfect as working at a bookshop might be, things are always hard when you have a crush on your boss.

warnings: the only description for reader is that she's short--at least shorter than Javi, unresolved sexual tension

a/n: unrelated to the fic but I've been staring at this gif for so long, look at his hands, I'm going to die

For almost all your life it’s been a fantasy of yours to work at a bookshop. 

And honestly, who could blame you? The chocolate scent of books, the dark, candle lit ambiance, the rustic tables set around for those who want to stay and read in peace—all of it prove to be the ideal working environment. It was even better when it rained, the drops so thick that you couldn’t see into the street until the door chimed signaling someone had arrived. 

The only issue, if it was an issue at all, is your ridiculously handsome boss. 

You remember Javi hiring you in a heartbeat, seeing your miserable state and need to belong. He was kind to you. His soft coffee eyes and tender smile burrowing into your heart as the days passed you by. You were the only employee, other than Nicolas Cage the black cat (you called him Nico for short), so the two of you end up spending a lot of time together. Obviously, you had no complaint. 

Now, months later, your heart is heavy with undisclosed emotions as you attempt to do your job. The boxes are heavy, and you have a bad habit of not asking for help. You rise up on your toes, gripping the box tightly and lifting it over your head. With the tips of your fingers, you try to gain leverage to slide the box onto the top shelf. Your shirt slides up, exposing the softness of your stomach, the uncharacteristically cold air making you shudder. You grunt, sweat beading at your temples. 

Cold fear rakes down your spine when you feel the box’s weight shift, pulling you off balance. You try to regain your footing, but gravity proves too strong. The world around you slows, the box slips from your grasp and begins to fall.  You reach out, your fingers outstretched, hoping to catch the falling box before it's too late. Your fingertips graze the edge of the box, but it's not enough. 

Then you feel him behind you. 

Javi is there, his strong arms wrapping around your waist in a fleeting moment, pulling you close. You watch  wide-eyed as he reaches over your head, his large hands covering your own, and steadies the heavy box. 

His touch sends shivers down your spine, and you feel the heat of his body pressed against your back. Relief washes over you, the weight of the box lifting off your shoulders. His eyes are fixed on the box. The muscles in his arms tense as he carefully sets the box on the shelf, taking care to ensure it's secure. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, his breath hot on your neck.

You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat. He doesn’t move away and rests his hands against the shelf across from you, caging you in. Your heart is beating a mile a minute. He’s so close. Too close. In the distance, you hear the soft paws of Nico moving around. Then, with uncertainty, you turn, your back against the millions of books as you look up to face him. 

The air is knocked from your lungs. He’s gorgeous. The fading sunlight streams through the bookshelf behind him, his hair a luscious honey brown. You want to dive your fingers into it. Your gaze drops to his neck, the color of his skin a shade darker. You swallow and lick your lips. He’s so broad—towering. His eyes flit across your face, stopping at your lips that glisten. Javi’s mouth forms a tight line. You want nothing more than for him to close the distance, kiss you stupid, but you know he won’t. 

And you’re too much of a coward to do it yourself. 

“Thank you,” you say, verbalizing what the nod meant. Your voice cracks at the end. His gaze gradually travels up and locks with yours. You might be imagining it, but you swear his arms move closer, his warm skin ghosting over your cheeks. 

“You need to be more careful, mi pequeña ayudante. I do not want you getting hurt.” 

He always calls you that. My little helper. At first, you thought he was mocking your height, but you’ve grown fond of the endearment. 

You don’t answer him. The air crackling as liquid heat rolls down your spine. You have the constant need to wet your lips and fight against the urge. His breathing grows heavy, his body seemingly closer. You think he’s leaning in. Your heart flutters, arousal pooling between your legs. His knee gently nudges your thigh apart, a sigh leaving your lips as soon as you feel his knee against your sex. You can almost taste him—the coffee from morning, the pie he ate…

You both jump and part away with the bell chiming, the damn thing louder than usual. Javi holds your gaze until the customer calls out, then, with a look between regret and relief, he makes his way to the shop's entrance.

Clumsily, you collect yourself. You pull down your sweater and shift from one leg to the other, ignoring the sharp jolt of pleasure rolling over you with the friction. Then you touch your bottom lip. The taste was so vivid in the seconds that passed. You have half the mind to believe that he did, in fact, kiss you. The sensation lingered on your lips and the back of your tongue, as if he had left a physical mark on you.

But he hadn’t. 

#javi gutierrez x fem!reader #javi gutierrez x f!reader #javi gutierrez x you #javi gutierrez x reader #javi g x you #javi g x reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters