In celebration of ten years of Narcos today, I thought it might be fun to make a bunch of NSFW headcanons for Javier — specifically sex position headcanons.
>> MDNI 18+ <<
Warnings: various mentions of sex positions and vulgar language.
Notes: HAD TO REPOST CAUSE TUMBLR IS ASS. i sped through this so sorry if there are errors!! all of these are with f!reader in mind but feel free to use your imagination with our lovely asshole DEA agent. <3
10 POSITIONS WITH JAVI — ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🍒
1. Descent — It’s the kind of position that leads straight to a quick, hard climax — the perfect choice for those “just take me now” moments or when you can’t wait until you’re home. You perch on the armrest of the sofa, fingers gripping the back as you let your upper body fall against the cushions, lying open and ready. Your legs stretch long and high, trembling with anticipation. Javier steps in close, positioning himself between your thighs. He lifts her legs effortlessly, settling them over his broad shoulders, his hands gripping tight around your thighs to hold you in place. With no hesitation, he drives into you — deep, unrelenting — his body pressing flush against yours. The angle makes every thrust hit harder, rougher, leaving no room for restraint.
2. Relaxation — This position doesn’t let you relax completely, but that’s part of what makes it so intoxicating — it’s designed to push you toward orgasm with every grind. Javier sits back in a sturdy chair, his posture firm, legs pressed close together. You climb onto his lap, lowering yourself onto his hips, your back pressing against his chest as you settle in. Your knees bend fully, spreading just enough to keep yourself open for him, your feet braced against the edges of the chair for leverage. Javier’s hands slide possessively onto your hips, holding you steady as you begin to move, slow at first, then grinding down with need. You cover his palms with her own, feeling the strength in his grip as his mouth finds her neck, urging you to ride him deeper, harder, until the chair itself creaks beneath you.
3. Spanish Sunset — Javier leans back in the armchair, broad shoulders sinking into the cushions, his legs bent and feet planted firmly on the floor. You straddle him with your back to his chest, sliding down onto his cock until your hips are flush against his. Your thighs spread wide, the edges of the chair framing your open and exposed as your legs dangle down. Javier’s palms close over your ass, squeezing, guiding you as you rock against him. But you capture his wrists and push his hands back onto the armrests, taking control, forcing him to grip the chair while you ride him deep. His jaw tightens, a groan tearing from his throat as your body moves against his with relentless rhythm.
4. Pretzel — This position is perfect for deep, toe-curling penetration — a position that lets Javier take his time and savor every second. With your leg hooked over his hip, the angle opens you up just right, letting him sink in deep while still keeping things slow and intimate. What makes it irresistible is how much control Javier has — his hands free to roam, his mouth close enough to tease, his eyes drinking in the way your body arches for him. From this view, he gets everything: the power, the closeness, and the chance to explore every inch of you while driving you wild.
5. Lotus (my favorite) — Sometimes, you want to slip into something more intimate, more sensual, more about connection than urgency — and that’s where the Lotus position comes in. With this position, Javier pulls you into his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist as he slides deep inside. The closeness means every thrust is slow and deliberate, your chests pressed together, your mouths finding each other in numerous heated kisses. His arms lock you in, strong yet tender, making you feel completely claimed while wrapped in his tender embrace. It’s not just about sex here. It’s about melting into Javier, body and soul, as the rhythm builds between you.
6. Lazy Evening — 6 a.m. sex or 11 p.m sex. No matter the hour, this position hits all the right spots. You’re lying back on the edge of the sofa, hands gripping the headrest, hips lifted, feet pressing into the floor, completely exposed and ready. Javier presses against you from behind, half-turned, one leg bent and braced on the armrest, the other planted firmly as he leans in close. He lifts your hips higher, sliding deep inside you with slow, deliberate thrusts that make you gasp. Every movement is measured, teasing, each inch of him stretching and filling you perfectly. His hands roam over your body, gripping your thighs, your waist, brushing over your back, pulling you flush against him. You can feel his cock sliding in and out, every stroke driving a hot, relentless ache straight to your core. Your breath catches as he leans closer, lips brushing your ear, whispering and groaning in ways that send shivers down your spine. There’s no rush, no acrobatics — just the raw, intoxicating rhythm of him inside you, your bodies moving together until you’re both gasping, trembling, and absolutely spent.
7. Deck Chair — It’s a must-try for deep, commanding penetration, letting Javier take full control. You lie back, legs drawn up to your chest, hands clutching your hips, heart racing as he hovers over you. Javier positions himself perfectly, kneeling with his hips spread, feet together, every movement deliberate and measured. You lift your legs and drape them over his neck, wrapping him completely, giving him full access. His hands slide under your arms and shoulders, lifting your head gently but firmly, while his body presses down, perfectly aligned to sink deep into you. Every thrust is intense, every angle hitting exactly right. His eyes drink in your expression, the way your body quivers beneath him, and he takes full advantage — touching, lifting, and claiming every inch of you. The closeness, the power, the intimacy — it’s electrifying, a raw, relentless rhythm that leaves you gasping and trembling for more.
8. Low Doggy — You kneel over a pillow, face down, legs and arms spread, every inch of you exposed. Javier kneels between your thighs, one hand braced on the floor, the other gripping your hair, tugging you back onto him with a rough, deliberate precision. Each thrust is deep and scorching, filling you completely as he sets the pace and depth. You can squeeze your legs around him, increasing the friction, or push back with every stroke if you crave harder penetration. His body presses against yours, chest to back, every motion driving heat straight to your core. The sounds of skin slapping, moans escaping your lips, and Javier’s low, commanding groans fill the room, each moment building a tension that leaves you trembling and aching.
9. Sweet Pussy — Who doesn't love oral sex? Javier does. He'll lean back in the armchair, relaxed but commanding, as you kneel on the armrests, your pussy perfectly positioned for his attention. Your arms stretch back, bracing on the chair as you keep your upper body straight, giving him an irresistible view. Javier’s hands grip your hips and squeeze your ass, pulling you flush against his mouth. His lips, tongue, and mouth explore every inch of your clit, teasing, flicking, and licking with expert precision, while his fingers slip inside you, plunging deep in rhythm with his mouth. The sensations are overwhelming — his gaze locked on yours, hungry while the heat of his touch and the wet, pulsing friction of his tongue drive you wild, making you shiver and moan.
10. Missionary — Ah, the beloved position that is missionary. Javier is on top, taking full control of the penetration, but every thrust is slow, deliberate, and full of desire for you. His hands and arms press against the bed, holding himself steady as he sinks deep, letting you feel both his strength and his tenderness. From this position, he sets the pace and depth, not just to drive you crazy, but to show how much he loves you — every movement an intimate expression of his devotion. You lie back beneath him, legs spread wide or wrapped around his hips, completely open to his touch. Your hands roam his back, grip his ass, or thread through his hair, deepening the connection between you. The press of your bodies, the heat of his skin, and the way his lips brush against yours, whispering your name, making it clear: this position isn’t just about pleasure — it’s a language of love, raw, and utter intimacy.
I hope you all enjoyed that. Writing has been super hard lately but I couldn't pass up the opportunity to write something hot for my boy Peña. Please remember to reblog if you liked it! Your support is everything to me. ♡
Tagging (please inform me if you want to be removed and I'm sorry if I missed anyone):
@iamasaddie @pokayyto @perotovar @cassiuspascal @berryispunk @chasingthepoguelife @madpanda75 @lady-artemis27 @elvenhymntoelbereth @shivispunk @cosmickid-inmotion @beezusvreeland @eviispunk @glitterspark @crumbs-from-the-algonquin @decadent-hag1 @worhols @picketniffler @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @68saturnism @melmel-fandom @jadesmultifandom @anabdaniels @savedyounine @mani-pedro @javierpenaispunk @kirsteng42 @lemonadesociety
Pairing: Javier Peña x f!Reader
Warnings: (MDNI) dirty talk, fingering, loving degradation, inanimate object insertion, some praise, established relationship, firearms, kissing, begging, filth.
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Summary: Javier comes home after a long day. Things have been comfortably domesticated between you both. You attempt to heat things up but Javier decides he wants to show off his new toy.
Word Count: 1.7k
The door shuts just as you sink into the couch. After finishing dinner, your entire body hums with exhaustion from being on your feet all day. New furniture had arrived, the second bedroom needed painting, and your bones ache from moving around nonstop. It wasn’t like you and Javier planned to stay in this house forever, but while he was still here chasing Escobar, you needed a place that felt truly yours.
A sanctuary.
Javier locks the front door and exhales sharply, his shoulders sagging as he slips off his shoes. Today was brutal. New security protocols, unfamiliar agents flooding in to help with Escobar, more air raid protection. Everyone at the division center received new guns and badges. An endless pressure clung to Javier’s skin like a fever, making him sweat behind his ears and grit his teeth.
He loosens his tie, tossing it carelessly onto the kitchen counter, then peels off his work jacket. His eyes flick over to you as you sit curled up on the couch, toes freshly painted a bold red. Something about the detail stirs a twitch beneath his mustache.
“Busy day for you?” you call out, your fingers lazily weaving through your hair as you rest your chin into your palm as you push your elbows into the back of the couch.
He doesn’t answer right away. He lets out a few grunts, his hands moving to unbuckle his gun holster as he pads across the floor, each step heavy with exhaustion.
“Yeah. New bullshit from the chain of command. Too many informants getting caught, jeopardizing everything.” His voice is raw, raspy, like he’s been breathing in smoke all day. As he finally drops into the cushion beside you and drapes his holster over the arm of the couch, the sharp scent of nicotine hits your nose. You could swear it clings to his very soul. Sometimes you wish he’d quit, just for you.
You stretch your foot toward him, pressing it into his lap, wiggling your toes in invitation. “Like ’em?” you tease, your voice light despite the dark undercurrent in the room.
A short, tired laugh bursts from him as he takes your foot in his hand, kneading his knuckles into the soft pad beneath your toes. “Yeah. They’re pretty.” he murmurs, his rough voice turning soft for a split second.
Silence stretches between you.
A silence filled with the strange warmth of domesticity. The past few months had been exactly this: quiet, simmering with something deeper than either of you dared to name. You think of how explosive you two once were, how you could hardly keep your hands off one another..
Javier finally releases your foot, leaving it draped across his lap. He exhales, this one deeper and more resigned than the first. You watch the way his gaze goes flat, drifting somewhere far beyond the walls of your living room.
Suddenly, you move. Hiking your dress up, the fabric slides across your thighs as you pull your leg back. Javier arches an eyebrow at your sudden shift. When you swing the same leg over him and straddle his denim-clad thighs, he lets out a surprised, breathless laugh. His hands float up and land on your waist. “What’s this?” he rumbles, his fingers bunching the fabric of your dress.
“Just changing things up,” you murmur, leaning in so close you can taste the cigarette on his breath. “Do you not like it?”
He swallows hard, his eyes sweeping your face, your lips. “W-What? No. I just… you cooked dinner, it’s been a long day…” His words start to unravel, tangling into each other as his gaze dips lower.
You nod slowly, your lips brushing against his. “Dinner can wait. You’re so tense, it feels like I’m sitting on stone.” You lean back slightly, scanning the couch, and your eyes lock onto his gun holster.
Your fingers creep toward it. Javier watches — a silent storm brewing in his gaze. You pull the belt closer and slip the heavy pistol from its leather holster.
“Cariño — what are you doing?” His voice is taut, almost trembling, as he grabs the pistol by the barrel from you.. There is a tension that vibrates in the air between you.
“I just wanted to look,” you whisper, your bottom lip trembling as you study the gleaming metal. “It’s heavy… the barrel’s longer. Not as thick and blunt as the other one.”
Javier’s fingers flex around the weapon as he tilts it slightly, studying the barrel like he’s seeing it for the first time too. His eyes flick up through his lashes, pinning you in place.
“Yeah… I guess it is,” he mutters. His wrist twists, and for a breathless moment, time seems to stall. Then he lowers the pistol, the cool metal brushing the hem of your dress. Your breath stutters.
“What? What are you doing?” Your voice cracks, but he doesn’t answer. He just watches your face, studying every flicker of fear, every spark of hunger.
His other hand slides up, pushing your dress higher. You feel the hot weight of his gaze as he exposes your panties. His cock twitches under you, a sharp gasp slipping from his lips like he’s seeing you for the first time.
Silence smothers the room, punctuated only by your heavy, uneven breaths.
His fingers hook your panties aside. The moment your slick folds meet the air, his throat tightens, his tongue darting out to wet his drying lips. Without warning, he drags his index finger through your slit, testing your wetness. Unsatisfied, he presses his fingertip to your clit, rolling slow, torturous circles making your shoulders jerk and drop, huffs of air exploding from you as your body ignites, nerves crackling to life.
“Javi…” you whimper, confusion tangling with need in your voice. But his gaze is ravenous now, wild and starved.
“I almost forgot what she felt like…” Javier groans, his voice low and reverent as he moves from your clit and pushes a finger inside you, curling it up, mapping the slick velvety walls all over again. A second finger slides in, stretching you wider. You feel your hips twitch forward, an involuntary pulse of need.
He pulls his fingers out, slick with you, and brings the pistol to your center. The cold muzzle meets your throbbing clit, and you shudder, a strangled moan breaking free.
“You like my new toy, baby?” His words are a husky growl, the dangerous edge of a man unraveling.
You swallow, terrified and aroused beyond reason, and nod shakily. “Y-Yes… J-Javi.”
He pushes your thigh away, opening you even more. “Lift your hips,” he murmurs. “Move up.” he orders, voice suddenly rough and commanding. Your breath catches in your throat as you obey, hovering just above the barrel.
“Sink down on it.” No kindness, no softness — just a dark, hungry command. You start to protest, but he shakes his head.
“Down. Now.”
Your hands move to his shoulders, gripping them like a lifeline. The metal is ice-cold as you lower yourself, the barrel stretching you inch by inch. You jolt, gasping as Javier keeps you steady, his hand braced against your hip.
You take a deep breath, your entire body trembling as the steel invades you, slow and deliberate. His eyes burn into you, pupils blown wide with primal hunger.
“Fuck. Oh fuck, look at you,” he rasps, his voice barely human. When the barrel finally bottoms out inside you, he meets your gaze, his eyes shining with a manic devotion. “Oh baby… oh god. Keep going.”
Your entire body trembles, your walls clenching around the foreign object. The rush of humiliation, the thrill of danger makes you gush around the cold barrel, soaking it.
“Ride it,” he barks.
There’s no softness left, just raw, urgent demand. You freeze, your breath catching painfully, but his wrist shifts under you, nudging the gun deeper.
“Ride it, baby girl.” This time, it’s almost a plea, his voice low and cracking. You nod, tears threaten to slip down your cheeks as you begin to move, hips rolling slowly at first. The barrel rubs inside you, sliding against every tender spot.
A moan echoes from your throat, and Javier groans, his jaw clenched as his hand anchors you by your hip. His gaze never moves as he watches every shiver, every twitch.
You start moving faster, your body abandoning fear for the mounting wave of pleasure. Your breathing becomes ragged, your thighs start to quake. You cling to him, nails digging into his shoulders as if you might split apart.
That tight, burning coil in your belly threatens to snap. Your eyes lock onto his, wide and desperate.
He watches you like a predator, his hand leaving your anchored hip and sliding his thumb down to your clit again, rubbing harsh, perfect circles.
“Come on. Come on, corazón.” he whispers, his words tender and obscene all at once, his mouth pressing hot kisses along your chest at the deep neck of your dress then leaving and moving up to your lips. He moans into your mouth, swallowing every gasp, every sob as he searches for your tongue.
Your hips stutter. The climax rushes up your spine like wildfire. You buck against him, hands dropping down to his chest as your nails claw at his shirt, your head thrown back as a scream rips from you.
He keeps working you through it, thumb relentless, barrel still lodged inside, coaxing every last pulse.
You collapse forward, trembling, breathless, as the final waves roll through you. You lean your forehead against his, panting, and then — CLICK.
A cruel grin instantly slices across his face.
“Oops,” he mocks, having pulled the trigger while the gun is still buried inside you.
Your blood runs cold, and you slap him hard across the face in a quick reflex. “What the fuck!” you shrill, eyes wide with terror and rage.
Laughter erupts from him, echoing off the walls. He doesn’t even flinch from your warranted strike. He slides the gun out of you, the barrel glistening with your wetness, and waves it teasingly. “No bullets. Safety’s on, baby.”
Your body still shakes as you scramble off him, yanking your panties back up and pulling your dress down. You stomp into the kitchen, seething. So much for a sweet, and erotically spontaneous moment.
Javier watches you disappear, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. He sighs, as he looks down at the pistol — slick and dripping with juices as it trickles down to the trigger just above his finger.
“Guess I’ll need to clean it after all.” he murmurs, a wicked, toothy grin splitting his face.
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Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed and I plan to write more one shots and other small fics like this on my tumblr. If you want to read longer and/or chapter fics, check out my Ao3 account.
Hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to like and reblog! ♡
just wishing javier peña was giving me forehead kisses right now while one of his hands pushes on my stomach, as he says “can you feel me here?”… meanwhile his cock is buried deep inside me.
So I am asking you to write whatever character and how they feel about rain ? Maybe it’s been raining all day/week and I wanna know how they feel about it. (Ofc Peña is also allowed 🤭) Go all inner monologue or poetic on me or however you like. Just go with the flow
lots of love 💕
Berry, I love you to the moon and back.
Thank you for this baby.
𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝑯𝒊𝒎 𝑭𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 ☔︎︎
for @berryispunk (oops I wrote Javi) | divider by: strangergraphics
The jungle had been unrelenting. Hot, unforgiving.
Four days of cracked boots, sleepless nights, and radio static cutting through the stillness like a blade. Four days of chasing shadows between trees that whispered cartel names and buried secrets. The humidity felt alive — thick and oppressive, crawling down the back of his neck like sweat-soaked nails.
Javier was tired in a way that sleep wouldn’t touch.
Every breath was work. Every sound a potential gunshot. He hadn’t eaten in almost a day and hadn’t truly slept in more. Just brief stretches of unconsciousness, cigarette smoke, and adrenaline-fueled motion keeping him stitched together.
But even the longest thread frays.
He slipped away from the others under the pretense of a piss break — too proud to admit he needed a second to breathe. He walked far enough to be alone, far enough that the chatter in the distance faded, replaced by the insect-thick hum of the jungle. Trees towered around him, their roots gnarled and wet. Vines hung heavy from the branches like nooses.
And then it hit.
Not a bullet. Not a trap.
A panic attack.
He didn’t even know what it was at first — just the sudden snap of something inside him, like a rubber band stretched too tight for too long. His chest cinched shut. His vision blurred, breath hiccuping in his throat. He dropped to his knees in the mud, fingers digging into the earth, trembling like a man with a fever.
He thought, for a terrifying moment, that he was dying. Maybe he should call out to Steve. That this was how it ended — not in gunfire, but in shameful silence. Heart racing out of control. Alone. Gripping dirt like it could anchor him to reality.
Then the sky cracked open.
It started with a single, fat drop on his brow, then another. And then— release. A torrential downpour, sudden and violent, drumming against the canopy of leaves before slamming into him. Rain poured through as if the jungle was weeping with him.
It was cold. Relentless. Cleansing.
The sounds in his head dulled beneath the cascade. His gasping slowed, breath syncing with the rhythm of water slapping against foliage, skin, soil. His shoulders sagged, and he let the jungle swallow him whole. Mud stained his knees. Rain matted his hair, poured down his face like tears he refused to shed.
And still he didn’t move.
Because for the first time in days, the noise stopped.
No gunfire. No orders. No screaming guilt.
Just rain.
The jungle held its breath with him and eventually, his hands relaxed in the soil. His chest opened just enough. He sat back against the base of a tree, soaked and shaking, but present. Alive.
The storm didn’t ask him to be strong. Didn’t demand his badge or his blood. It didn’t care who he was.
It just came.
And for five precious minutes, it reminded him he was still human.
Still breathing.
Still here.
Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this.
I haven't wrote a vulnerable Javi before, but lately I've been feeling a bit more vulnerable myself so it seemed fitting. ♡♡♡
If you like please — consider reblogging or liking!
#lana del rey
#cats of tumblr
#horror movies
#photography
