my masterlist | read on ao3 | capuccinodollupdates
summary: Trapped by a mountain storm and a sudden blackout, the lines between duty and desire blur. In the flickering firelight of a remote cabin, your stoic bodyguard, Javier, finally drops his guard; and you finally get what you’ve been craving for months. WC: 10.2K
A/N: Helloo. This one-shot was written as part of the PPCU Fandom Writing Challenge organized by @pedroscurls <3 The dialogue prompt I received was: "I'm supposed to be the one protecting you." I've been writing this since march, baby steps but we're here!
tags: alternate universe - modern setting / explicit content - smut / dirty talk / reader in peril (briefly) / no explicit violence
If you enjoyed it, please leave a comment and reblog! I really appreciate feedback<3
You hate that everyone here knows your name before they’ve even met you. The lingering looks, the whispers barely disguised. The stupid questions they already know the answer to.
Enzo Vandspell’s daughter, is that you? Yeah, that’s me. Not that it’s a mystery; of course they know. Everyone here has seen your father’s face on the news. Television, online, splashed across print. Someone even turned it into a cheap joke on an entertainment segment.
New York isn’t a great place to be when you’re caught in the middle of a storm. Even less so when it involves things as delicate as money laundering and a few other matters your father never dared to explain. And you didn’t ask. You already knew. Played the good daughter who keeps out of it, because it was enough to unlock your phone and read the first headline you found.
Senator Enzo Vandspell Discloses Alleged International Corruption Network, Prompting Federal Scrutiny
WASHINGTON — Senator Enzo Vandspell, a prominent advocate for anti-corruption measures in Congress, disclosed on Wednesday a series of documents he says point to the existence of a far-reaching network engaged in money laundering and narcotics trafficking, with alleged connections spanning Latin America, Europe, and the United States.
Speaking at a press conference on Capitol Hill, Vandspell stated that the findings stem from an investigation conducted by his office over the course of more than a year. According to the senator, the materials suggest the involvement of business executives, public officials, and financial intermediaries in schemes utilizing shell companies and offshore accounts to obscure substantial sums of illicit funds.
“This is not an isolated matter,” Vandspell said. “What we are seeing reflects a broader pattern of coordinated activity that has persisted for years, enabled in part by systemic gaps in oversight.”
The documents, portions of which were made available to federal authorities, outline mechanisms including the transfer of funds through jurisdictions with limited financial transparency and the use of inflated contracts tied to public infrastructure projects. Vandspell declined to identify specific individuals or entities during the briefing, citing the sensitivity of the information and the potential for ongoing legal proceedings.
A spokesperson for the Department of Justice confirmed receipt of the materials but declined to comment further, noting that it does not discuss potential or ongoing investigations.
Separately, Vandspell’s office reported an increase in security concerns following the disclosure. In a brief statement, staff confirmed that additional protective measures have been implemented in coordination with federal authorities, both in Washington and at the senator’s private residences. Officials have not released further details regarding the nature of the reported threats.
You should be home right now. No, out of New York entirely. But Celine had spent months working toward her gallery opening, and you couldn’t miss it. Not that anyone here particularly cared who you were. No, they cared who your father was. And anyway, you’d heard Leonardo DiCaprio was around somewhere, so the focus wasn’t exactly on you. Or not entirely.
“Miss Vandspell.”
You turned, already knowing the voice. Louis, one of your bodyguards. “Yes?”
“Your car will be here in ten minutes.”
You nodded, offering him a polite smile before shifting your gaze to the man beside him. The other one. Javier. He didn’t react. Not a single muscle in his face moved.
They worked as a team. Synergy, to keep you safe. You didn’t know where Louis had come from, he had simply appeared one day, ten years ago, when your father introduced him and explained that he would be with you from then on. He was serious, rigid, somewhere in his fifties. He’d escorted you to school, stood watch at every dance, always there, even at a distance. And you knew he was your father’s line straight to you. Everything you did, your father knew, courtesy of Louis. Years of living under quiet surveillance, all in the name of your safety.
Javier was different. He showed up a year and a half ago, right when your father’s investigation kicked off. You didn’t know much about him, and you didn’t ask too much, just the basics. You’d seen him working for your father a handful of times, and then one morning he was in your apartment next to Louis, just like that.
Early forties, maybe. Quiet and serious. He gave nothing away about who he really was. Though you had caught it; small signs of impatience, brief looks of weariness more than once when he had to accompany you in public.
His eyes were onyx black, gleaming within a face that gave away absolutely nothing, again. Pure, unadulterated vacancy. And you know what they say about blank spaces; they’re just waiting for you to fill in the blanks with whatever idea suits you best.
A mysterious man whose name you’d pried out of mutual contacts. You had the highlight reel: retired agent, occasional magnet for controversy, and a reliable asset to your father. Strong hands.
The ambiguity fed you in bursts. You told yourself it was only natural, this is what happens when someone is around for more than twelve hours a day, nearly every day. And at the end of it all, you were just a curious woman.
He gave the distinct impression of a man living under heavy restraint. His shoulders were permanently knotted, his brow perpetually furrowed, and there was always something clenched in his jaw. And on rare occasions, you would catch the sound of a weary exhale; sometimes while he stood just outside your hotel room door. In the profound hush of a still night, it carried as clearly as if he were standing right beside you: a heavy, drawn out breath. Even through the wood of the door, his physical tension was palpable.
You knew he had no wife, no children. That was the very first thing you noticed the day you met; your eyes had instinctively found his hand and noted the absence of a ring. Somehow, it fit. Men who did what he did didn’t exactly build lives that stayed still. Not when their job was tailing someone for hours on end, following them from city to city like a shadow with a gun.
Some days your curiosity barely registered. Other days, it itched at you badly enough to make you want to ask questions; about him, his life, who he’d been before all this. But you always caught yourself before you crossed the line. There wasn’t much point asking a man like him anything personal. He wasn’t the type to answer, anyway.
Now, he stepped forward and opened the gallery door for you.
Another thing that had always been part of your life. You grew up with doors opening before you could reach them, cars waiting with engines running, routes mapped out for you; detours decided without your knowledge. Men in suits surrounding you, steadying you, taking you where you wanted to go and where you didn’t.
Your car door was already open when you stepped outside.
“I need to stop by my apartment—”
“Give my regards to your daddy.”
You stopped short. The scream never made it past your throat. One second you were standing there and the next, your whole body was soaked. Your eyes snapped shut, burning instantly. It hit all at once; your mouth, your nose, the back of your throat.
Gasoline.
“Louis—” you choked, hands flying to your face, smearing it away as panic surged. You grabbed the man beside you, fingers digging into his shoulders as he forced you forward.
“Get in the car. Inside. Head down,” he barked. It wasn’t Louis. Javier.
He shoved you toward the car, already moving faster than your mind could catch up. Louis’s voice rang somewhere in the distance: “Go, go!”
Javier pushed you into the backseat, one hand shielding your head as he forced you down. The door slammed shut behind you, sealing you in as he shoved you sideways.
“Vandspell. Now,” he ordered the driver.
You almost argued; told him no, that you had to, that you wanted to go to your apartment, but the words never quite made it out.
Your eyes burned. Your throat, too. It didn’t matter how many times you swallowed or how hard you scrubbed at your face with gasoline-soaked hands, it only made it worse.
“Stay still.”
His hand closed around your jaw, firm enough to keep you in place. You obeyed and a second later, Javier was carefully wiping your face with a towel.
“Who was it?” you asked as he moved the cloth over your eyes, more gently this time. “What did he look like?”
“Louis has him. Don’t worry about that.”
“That’s not what I asked.” Your voice came out sharp. You didn’t feel particularly inclined to be polite. Not now. Not like this.
“A man,” Javier said. “Wearing a balaclava.”
“Where’s Louis?”
It was the second time you’d asked, and the second time Javier ignored you. The first had been in the car, while he drove in absolute silence down the highway, refusing to tell you where the hell you were going, too. The second was now, as he pulled your suitcase from the trunk and started toward the cabin.
“Javier, you have to tell me if he’s okay.”
He stopped just before the short steps leading up to the porch and turned to face you.
“He’s fine. Louis is fine.”
“Is he coming with us?”
“I don’t know.” He turned back around and kept walking. Up the stairs, through the front door; though he didn’t actually step inside. He stayed planted in the doorway and jerked his chin once. “Get in.”
You tightened your grip on your bag strap and hurried after him. Your hair was still messy from the rushed shower you’d taken back at your father’s house, barely towel dried, and your throat still burned faintly from the gasoline you’d swallowed earlier.
Five hours away from Manhattan, your father kept a cabin hidden among the dense timber of the Adirondack Mountains. It was a lush, cold, and hostile wilderness during the winter months, and through all three hundred and sixty five nights of the year. The jagged peaks were hidden from view, masked by the thick treeline surrounding you, and while the mist was thin for now, you knew it would only thicken as the night went on.
You’d been here once before, when you were around ten. Your father had tucked you and your mother away here for a week. You remembered board games, hot chocolate, and men stationed outside with weapons slung over their shoulders. Men who spoke into bulky cellphones or radios that had looked ancient to you back then. Now you understood why; the signal out here was complete shit. Practically nonexistent.
"Drop it, don't touch that," Javier’s voice materialized behind you a split second before he snatched the phone from your hand.
“What are you doing?” You turned to face him.
The two of you stood in the living room, where the windows stretched floor to ceiling, though the gray light outside still left the cabin dim. Javier crossed the room and switched on one of the lamps beside the couch before slipping your phone into his pocket.
Then he stepped toward you.
“You’re not to contact anyone while we’re here. You understand me?”
“How exactly would I do that?” You crossed your arms. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. There’s no signal.”
Javier turned away and headed toward the small open kitchen a few feet off the living room.
“Why don’t you go take a proper shower instead? There’s more stuff for you in the red suitcase. Erica packed it.”
Erica. Your father’s housekeeper.
“You’re still not going to tell me what’s happening?” You followed after him, catching his shoulder with your hand and forcing him to look at you. “You seriously expect to drag me all the way out here, say ten words total and think that’s enough?”
“What else do you need to know?” he asked evenly. “A lunatic doused you in gasoline with a lighter in his hand. He was trying to hurt you.”
“What about my family? Are they safe back there? I told him he should’ve gotten out of New York—”
“They’re not after him.” He moved closer, his eyes locking onto yours. “They’re after you. They want to stop him from exposing whatever he found, and right now, you’re the only leverage they’ve got. You understand?”
“Yes, I do. I’m not stupid.” Your voice sharpened. “They wanted to use me as a threat. Fine. But if that’s the case, why try to kill me on the first shot? Wouldn’t it make more sense to send a warning first?”
Javier’s jaw tightened as he took a step back. Your eyes swept over his face in a flash.
“So now you’re critiquing their methods?” he asked.
“I’m just saying. If they wanted to hurt me, going for it on the first try without even making a threat first feels pretty sloppy,” you said, folding your arms across your chest. “Why’d they do that?”
He gave a faint shake of his head, lips pressing into a thin line. Then he tipped his chin up just slightly.
“Listen, why don’t you go get settled in? I’ll check the property and finish unloading the car.”
“You’re letting me go to my room alone?”
Javier’s eyes flicked toward yours. “For a minute. You’re a big girl, aren’t you? I’m sure you can survive without me for a couple of minutes.”
You hummed softly and took a step back, uncrossing your arms.
“Alright. If I need you, I’ll call,” you said, turning around. “Unless, of course, they gag me first.”
Behind you, you heard him scoff.
From your bedroom window, you could watch night settling in for good. The view from where you stood was limited, but beautiful all the same; a long stretch of trees, and beyond them, just the faintest glimpse of water catching what little light remained. The mountains in the distance were barely visible now, their peaks rising behind the dark canopy of green.
The window was cracked open just enough for cool air to slip inside, fresh against your skin and enough to leave goosebumps trailing down your arms. Your body still held onto the heat from the shower.
You could still smell gasoline, though at this point you figured the scent had burned itself into your nose. You’d scrubbed yourself down with soap over and over again, brushed your teeth at least three times after getting out, then sprayed perfume through your hair before blow-drying it. Thank God Erica had packed one in the red suitcase.
Javier had knocked on the bathroom door ten minutes ago and walked away after you told him everything was fine. No intruder hiding in the shower with you, thankfully.
Now, as you adjusted your clean clothes against your skin and your stomach growled in protest, you glanced down at the watch on your wrist. Eight thirty at night.
You found Javier crouched in front of the fireplace when you came downstairs.
“I’m starving. Is there anything in the fridge?”
You knew he’d stopped at a gas station in the middle of some tiny town on the drive out here. You hadn’t seen what he bought or how much of it, only that he’d walked out carrying a massive box, shoved it into the trunk without explanation, then gone back inside for more.
“Yeah. Check the counter too,” he said.
You turned on your heel and headed where he’d pointed. The cardboard box sat open on the counter: ground coffee, black tea, three different kinds of cookies, protein bars, several packs of pasta, salt, sugar, rye bread, every canned thing imaginable including beans, chickpeas, soups, giant jars of sauce, bags upon bags of beef jerky and mixed nuts, plus fruit like apples and oranges and a decent amount of vegetables. Off to the side sat two massive gallons of mineral water.
“How long are we staying here?” you asked as you moved toward the fridge.
When you opened it, you found trays of meat and four sandwiches wrapped tightly in plastic.
“I don’t know.” His voice sounded closer now; he was walking into the kitchen.
“That’s a lot of food.”
“Better too much than not enough, right?”
Without answering, you reached in and grabbed one of the sandwiches. It was huge. A sticker across the top listed the ingredients.
“Says it was made today. Think that’s actually true?”
You glanced over at him. Javier stepped closer and tilted his head slightly.
“If it’s not rotten, give it a shot.”
You pressed your tongue against the inside of your cheek. You weren’t in the mood to argue about food, and you definitely weren’t in the mood to cook for yourself.
“Want to eat with me?” you asked, leaning toward the fridge again. “Louis always eats with me.”
“I know. I stand by the door while he does, remember?” He crossed his arms, leaning back against the counter. “Nobody’s doing that for me now.”
“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” you said, pulling out another sandwich. “I think you can survive sitting down to eat with me.”
A minute after you dropped into one of the dining chairs, rain began tapping softly against the cabin roof. Outside, the fog had swallowed almost everything whole, turning the world beyond the windows into a blur of silver and black. Darkness stretched endlessly in every direction except for the moonlight; full tonight, huge and bright enough that its pale glow burst through the mist like scattered frost.
Javier (much against his better judgment, you suspected) sat across from you at the other end of the table, holding his brisket and vegetable sandwich with a faint frown as he took a bite.
Carefully, you peeled the lettuce from yours and set it on the wrapper. It smelled incredible; your mouth watered instantly. You took a bite and closed your eyes for a second at the taste.
“Oh my God, this is so good.”
Javier let out a quiet huff of laughter. It was brief and soft. “No lettuce?”
You waited until you swallowed. “Lettuce is the first thing that goes bad. Tomatoes too, but lettuce dies first.”
“It looked fresh enough.”
“I’m not risking it.”
He tilted his head slightly and took another bite.
Between you sat two glasses of water and an open bag of chips. Your gaze drifted through the glass in front of him, catching the warped image of his hand beneath the waterline; fingers distorted as they curled tightly, for some reason, around the handle of the butter knife resting beside his wrapper.
Your eyes traveled upward, past his watch, past the smooth skin of his forearm dusted with fine dark hair.
“Do you have a girl?”
The question came out so bluntly, stripped clean of the usual social cushioning, that he stopped chewing.
Honestly, it surprised you too.
The hand holding your sandwich lowered to the table little by little.
Javier looked at you with an unreadable expression, though you caught the slightest tightening near the corners of his eyes.
“That’s… none of your business.”
“So that’s a no?” Heat crawled into your cheeks. “A man like you—hard to believe you spend all your time alone when you’re not standing behind me.”
His jaw flexed as he chewed. One, two, three, four… five times before swallowing.
“Are you bored?”
You smiled faintly. “I’m asking a question. It’s been a long day, and we’re running out of things to talk about.”
Javier exhaled quietly and glanced toward the kitchen counter behind you.
“I move around too much for that. This kind of job doesn’t exactly leave room for domestic bliss.” His eyes flicked back to yours. “Now finish your sandwich and get some sleep.”
“You’re redirecting,” you pointed out with a small, knowing smile. “Is she in New York? Or back wherever you came from?”
That finally pulled his full attention back to you.
“You’re too curious for your own good, you know that?” he said. “Dangerous habit, sticking your nose into things that don’t concern you.”
“Maybe I am bored,” you teased, lifting one shoulder lightly. Your gaze wandered over the breadth of his shoulders before returning to his face. “Besides, you’ve spent an entire year following me around and learning every detail of my routine. I think I’m entitled to a few answers. Unless the truth’s just painfully boring.”
A crooked, amused smile tugged at his mouth.
“I don’t think you’re entitled to anything.”
Your brows lifted slightly.
“And boring isn’t the word I’d use anyway,” he added.
“Then what is the word?” You tilted your head, hair spilling over your shoulder. “Complicated? Or are you just rusty? I saw the way you looked at that girl at the gala last month — the one who tried to give you her number. Were you about to frisk her?”
Javier leaned forward, eyes narrowing, though there was a flicker of reluctant amusement buried beneath the irritation.
“Maybe she was a security risk.”
You smiled. “She was five two in four inch heels. The only thing she threatened was your peace of mind.” A soft laugh slipped out of you. “Admit it. You’re out of practice.”
A dry sound escaped him, and halfway to a laugh he swallowed it down behind a frown.
“Why don’t we try eating in silence instead, huh? Maybe you’re just hungry. And tired.”
You let the sandwich fall onto its wrapper.
“Don’t do that.”
His eyes locked onto yours.
“Don’t talk to me like I’m a child. I’m not.” You lifted your chin slightly. “I’m used to Louis acting like that because he’s been doing it for a decade, but you’re not Louis.” Your voice stayed even. “And I’m not tired.”
“How?” he asked, and you noticed the defensive edge had left his voice, settling into something quieter. “It’s been a long day. Longer than most. You should be exhausted.”
“I don’t sleep much, and you know that.” You reached for your glass of water. “Besides, it’s too quiet out here.”
You took another bite of your sandwich and ignored the way he kept watching you. His fingers tapped once against the wooden table.
“Well, you’re strangely calm considering what happened today. How are you feeling? Really.”
You swallowed your food. In the privacy of your own head, you thought about the smell of gasoline; the slick, half-thick texture of it soaked into your skin and clothes.
“I’m okay. I mean, my throat still burns a little, and I’ll probably smell gasoline in my sleep for the next week, but I’m okay.”
Javier’s jaw tightened. He looked down at his hands.
“Most people would be scared.”
“Maybe I’ve spent too much time around men like you and my father,” you said with a faint smile. “Eventually you learn how to compartmentalize. Or maybe I just haven’t processed how close it actually was because you were there.” You tilted your head slightly. “Give it a few days. Maybe the shock will catch up to me then.”
“Huh.” His eyes lifted back to yours. “You’re tougher than you look.”
Your ego swelled at that despite yourself.
“You think so?”
“Yeah. I figured that out a while ago.” One corner of his mouth twitched faintly. “That, combined with your invasive questions, makes it pretty hard to see you as some porcelain doll.”
Your fingers curled tighter around your glass, though you didn’t lift it. You kept your eyes fixed on him.
“Is that really what you think I am? A porcelain doll?”
Javier pressed his lips together and stayed perfectly still. His gaze didn’t leave yours.
He didn’t answer.
“You’re wrong,” you continued, leaning a little farther over the table. “Porcelain’s fragile. It cracks the second things get bad. I’ve spent my whole life in houses where the walls have ears and every move is planned before it happens. What other choice did I have?”
“I don’t think you’re made of porcelain,” he said quietly. “Not even close. That’s what I meant. But I've heard people talk about you when I first started working for your dad. That's all.”
You blinked once. “Then what do you think I am?”
You caught the way his eyes almost smiled, completely at odds with the rest of his expression. He was thinking something.
But what?
He lifted his chin slightly and tilted his head.
"You're more like… like the glass they use in those high-rise buildings in the city," he said, holding your eyes. "You know, looks delicate from the street, like you could put a fist through it if you tried. But it's reinforced. It's built to take the pressure of the wind and the heat without cracking." A faint smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. “You’re not fragile. You’re just used to being handled with gloves.”
The honesty in his voice made you go still. So did the smugness.
Javier looked calm, but the feeling was there in the smallest details; in the flicker of his expression, the confidence sitting quietly beneath every word.
“And what happens if you take the gloves off? Can you do that for me?”
He froze. His dark eyes locked onto your face and moved over it with maddening slowness, never losing intensity. The surprise wasn’t invisible this time. He started studying you with a heaviness that felt almost physical, like being touched.
A muscle jumped in his jaw. His gaze dropped briefly to your hand resting on the table before returning to your eyes. His pupils had blown wide.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he said.
Every trace of professionalism had vanished from his voice.
“Don’t I?”
“Of course not.”
“And how exactly would you know that?” you asked with a smile. “I wasn’t being very subtle, was I?”
Javier tilted his head, studying you a little more carefully now.
“Vandspell,” he said slowly, “what exactly are you trying to say?”
Oh, he could not ask you that while looking at you like that.
You’d spent a year and a half with him at your back, following you everywhere. Of course you’d noticed the way he looked at you sometimes; rare, but obvious when it happened. And maybe it was the aftershock finally kicking in, or maybe today had knocked something loose inside your head, because suddenly you felt very, very capable of saying exactly what you wanted.
What was he going to do? Run?
And honestly, Javier didn’t strike you as the type of man who’d go tattling to your father about your behavior. No; he seemed much more like the type who’d join in.
So, fuck it.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you said. “I’m curious.”
“Curious about what?”
“You.”
His brows lifted. “Me?”
You nodded.
“What useful thing could you possibly want to know about me?”
“Oh, a few things.”
You leaned farther onto the table. He swallowed.
“You know, I looked into you a little when my father first hired you.” You tilted your head. “Almost everything I found was about your professional life. That was disappointing.”
“My professional life disappointed you?”
“No. Not being able to find out anything about your personal life disappointed me.”
A quiet huff of laughter escaped him. “What could you possibly want to know about me? Let me ask again.”
“Do you have a girl?”
Javier hid the beginning of a smirk behind his hand. “No. I already told you that.”
“So nobody’s waiting for you back in the city?” you pressed, keeping your voice casual even as your heartbeat picked up against your ribs. “No one complaining about your hours or how impossible you are to deal with when you're tired after work?”
“No.” His eyes stayed fixed on yours. “No one’s waiting.”
“Good.” The word slipped out before you could stop it.
“Don’t say that.”
“Why not? It’s true.” You refused to look away. “I’m glad there’s nobody else. Is that so wrong?”
He let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh and shook his head, looking down at his sandwich.
“What?” you asked lightly. “I’m just curious.”
He leaned forward just slightly. Like standing one step from the edge of something steep.
“No. You aren’t.” His tone flattened again. “You’re bored. We’re trapped in a cabin with no TV, no signal, and you’ve spent your whole life being the center of attention. Now it’s just me, so you’re fishing for a reaction.” His eyes narrowed faintly. “You’re poking at me to see if the hired help has a pulse.” A pause. “Why don’t you save these games for your boyfriend?”
That made you smile.
“You can’t stand Wes.”
Javier lifted his brows and tipped his head to the side.
“I’ve seen the way you look at him,” you continued. “The eye rolls every time he opens his mouth. Those exhausted sighs you let out whenever you’re stuck standing next to us.” Your smile widened slightly. “You’re really not that good at pretending.”
“Oh yeah?” he said dryly. “Do tell.”
“Well, I think it’s only fair, don’t you?” you said. “If you get to spend almost two years watching me, then I get to spend almost two years watching you too.” You tilted your head slightly. “What’s it like? Spending hours every day just… waiting for me to finish dinner or for some meeting to finally end?”
“It’s part of the paycheck. You get used to it.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“Alright,” he said, his voice dropping lower. “Since you’re so curious, let’s flip it around. What exactly do you think you’re doing right now?” His eyes stayed pinned to yours. “Because I know for a fact you’re not this talkative in the city. Half the time you barely say two words to me in the car.”
You swallowed once.
“Maybe it’s the lack of an audience.”
“I don’t buy it.”
You shrugged and picked your sandwich back up, taking a small bite. Across from you, he kept watching.
“You’re not wrong, by the way,” he said after a moment. “About Wes.”
He shifted slightly, resting an arm along the back of the chair beside him. His eyes drifted toward the window to your left, the shadow of a grimace crossing his face.
“I find him incredibly childish,” he admitted, shaking his head. “The way he talks, the way he carries himself… I honestly thought you would’ve realized that by now. I figured someone as observant as you would’ve gotten tired of the performance months ago.”
You smiled, feeling a strange little victory in his honesty “He can be immature, but he’s not a bad guy.”
“It’s exhausting to watch, especially when I’m the one making sure his complete lack of situational awareness doesn’t get you both killed.” His jaw tightened. “Like at that party last week. The way he practically tried to drag you into that car? He was wasted.”
Your eyes flickered at the memory.
Yeah. Wes had been an idiot. He’d tried to get behind the wheel of his Lambo while drunk out of his mind and high on molly, then nearly thrown a tantrum when you told him you were going home alone. Javier had pulled you away by the arm before you even had the chance to argue.
“You’re a lot of things,” Javier continued, “but you’re not stupid. So yeah, it’s frustrating watching you settle for someone who doesn’t even know which direction the wind’s blowing.”
“A lot of things?” you repeated with a smile, brows pulling together slightly. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”
He shook his head once. “Nothing. You’re persistent. Extremely persistent.” He nodded toward your sandwich. “Come on, eat. You’re hungry, aren’t you? Let’s finish dinner so I can get back to doing my job.”
“Your job is watching me, Javier,” you reminded him softly. “And I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. So watch me all you want.”
Surrounded by darkness, pure cold air, and a room you didn’t fully recognize, your hand flew to your chest as your eyes snapped open wide with panic. A bolt of lightning had struck somewhere nearby, violent enough to rattle the windowpanes, but even then, you couldn’t tell whether it was the thunder that had dragged you awake, or the nightmare still clawing at the inside of your head.
Outside, the rain fell in a heavy torrent, its frantic galloping against the roof mimicking the rhythm in your chest. You grabbed your phone to check the time: 3:00 AM. No, 3:31. And for a fleeting second, your mind drifted back to the legends whispered by schoolmates years and years ago. They said that at 3:33 AM, the veil thins, and creatures lurking in the cracks of the day emerge; it was the hour when the impossible and unusual became reality.
The room felt cavernous, its high corners swallowing the light and casting long jagged shadows. And the door stood half open, revealing nothing but pitch black hallway beyond it.
You pushed the blankets aside and lowered your feet onto the floor. Freezing.
Phone clutched tightly in your hand, you stepped into the hallway and pushed the flashlight over it, casting a pale beam over every step as you followed it toward the staircase.
“Javier?”
BOOM.
Another crack of thunder jolted through the house, making you jump in place. Your head whipped around instantly… Had the floor creaked behind you?
Your heart raced at a frantic pace as you rushed down the stairs, ignoring the thudding in your chest and the biting chill crawling up your legs.
Below, the living room flickered to life every few seconds, caught in the pale erratic flashes of lightning. The fireplace offered a pulsing warm glow that bled across the rug and the couch across from it, and on the coffee table sat a pack of cigarettes and a handgun. But Javier was nowhere to be seen.
You scanned the room, searching for a flashlight or anything useful, but found nothing. You spun on your heel and—
"Shit!"
Just as another bolt of lightning tore through the sky, bathing the room in a ghostly white glare, Javier appeared right in front of you.
Drenched to the bone, with wet hair plastered to his forehead, he stood there holding a heavy flashlight and a set of keys.
"You... you scared the shit out of me," you mumbled, recoiling a step. You knit your brows together. "What happened?"
"The power’s out," he rasped.
"I know that."
"The storm must've taken out a line down the road. Go to the fireplace; I’ve got the fire going. It’s the only place that’ll stay warm."
He brushed past you and stopped by the couch. He reached down, took the weapon, and tucked it out of sight.
"Sit," he commanded.
Without a word, you obeyed; the cold was becoming unbearable and exhaustion weighed heavy on your eyelids. You walked over and sank into the soft cushions of the couch. You were wearing only an oversized t-shirt that left your thighs exposed to the air; instinctively, you pulled the hem of the fabric down with one hand to cover yourself.
He vanished from your sight then, and you flicked off your phone’s flashlight, tossing the device onto the coffee table like the useless piece of hardware it had become. Before you, the fire roared, flames dancing restlessly from side to side. The warmth helped, but barely.
“Here.”
At the sound of his voice, you turned your head toward him. Javier stood behind the couch.
Without a word, he draped a thick heavy blanket over your shoulders. His fingers were still wet and freezing, and they lingered briefly against the back of your neck; the touch made you shiver. A second later, he pulled away and moved around the couch, sinking onto the opposite end with enough distance between you to feel intentional. He barely moved after that.
Water continued dripping from his clothes, leaving dark stains across the upholstery as the storm raged outside.
“You’re soaked,” you said quietly, your eyes trailing over him. “Why were you even outside?”
“Checking the power lines.”
His gaze never left the fire.
You frowned, watching the fabric of his shirt cling to his skin like a second layer of cold.
“Why don’t you change?”
“Don’t have anything here.” His jaw tightened faintly. “Louis is bringing the rest of the stuff tomorrow. Clothes included.”
“I’m sorry.”
In the ensuing silence, the reality of the situation felt heavier than the wool on your shoulders. The entire trip had been so rushed that neither of you had stopped to consider that a storm of this magnitude could leave you trapped and empty handed.
What if Louis couldn't reach you tomorrow?
As was his custom, your father would surely send more than one man. Javier, Louis, maybe Renzo, and likely Nora, who usually accompanied you on matters like this. But if the downpour persisted and the roads became impassable, there was no telling if they’d make it.
"So you're just going to stay like that? Drenched?"
“Yes.”
“You could dry off, you know,” you insisted, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. “It’s not a big deal if you take the clothes off. But if you stay wet, you’re definitely gonna get sick.” You nodded toward the hallway. “There are towels in the closet.”
Javier seemed to process your words with a pause. For a moment, the only sound was the wind lashing against the windowpanes and the rumble of the sky.
His fingers brushed the edge of his sodden cuff, hesitating.
"Your hair is dripping," you added, as the final blow to his resistance.
A quiet sigh slipped out of him and he pushed himself to his feet. Grabbing the flashlight from the coffee table, he disappeared down the hallway without another word, as his silhouette was swallowed by darkness and the sound of his footsteps echoed across the wooden floorboards.
You took advantage of his absence to burrow deeper into the heavy blanket. Tucking your legs onto the couch, you leaned back, sinking into the cushions until only your eyes peered over the edge of the wool. The fire’s heat was finally taking hold, numbing your limbs and stilling the tremors in your body.
A moment later, Javier returned.
The jacket, shirt and jeans were gone. He walked with his torso completely bare, revealing a landscape of muscle and warm-toned skin. He wore only a towel wrapped low, clinging precariously to the line of his hips.
You fell silent, a sudden knot tightening in your throat. Your eyes betrayed you, tracing the breadth of his shoulders and the firmness of his chest, where traces of dampness still glistened. Your gaze drifted downward involuntarily, following the thin line of hair below his navel that disappeared beneath the waist of the towel.
A heat flared within you that had nothing to do with the hearth. You quickly averted your eyes toward the fire, hoping the dancing shadows on your cheeks would mask the unmistakable creep of a blush.
"Better," he said.
Javier sat back down, and the contrast was nearly unbearable. You remained motionless, your gaze fixed on the fire, though your eyes weren't truly seeing the flames. Internally, your mind was a chaotic mess of self-reproach; you thought this had to be some cruel joke, immediate karma for trying to toy with him during dinner. You had enjoyed every charged look and every double entendre, wanting to see if you could crack that stone mask he always wore. You wanted to provoke him, yes—but now that he was right there, half naked, the situation had spiraled out of your control.
A persistent tingle stirred in your lower abdomen, a pang of anticipation that you tried to ignore by pressing your legs together under the blanket. Your heart, ever the traitor, thrashed against your ribs with an erratic rhythm; you weren't worried about him hearing it, though, the thunder provided the perfect cover.
Javier let out a long exhale and leaned back against the cushions, stretching one arm across the top of the couch. His fingers came to rest mere inches from your back.
“You’re still shaking,” he observed. “You still cold?”
You turned your head just enough to see him out of the corner of your eye. He wasn't looking at you; his eyes were fixed on the ceiling, but his jaw was set tight.
"Yeah," you admitted in a whisper, clutching the edges of the blanket tighter against your chest. "I'm still a little cold."
You dared to turn fully to catch his profile. He remained there, letting the hearth’s warmth lick across his skin. He looked like a statue carved from only shadows and orange light.
"And you?" you asked. "Aren't you cold? You're almost... well, you aren't wearing much."
"A little. Did you get any sleep?"
"Just a bit," you confessed. "You?"
"No."
"Why?"
“Got a lot on my mind,” he muttered. And this time, he didn’t avoid your gaze.
He looked at you directly, with an intensity that made you feel strangely small and hyperaware of every inch of yourself all at once.
That tingle in your stomach flared again.
"A lot? Like what?"
Instead of an answer, a faint, arrogant smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. He remained silent, turning back toward the fire and running a finger over his mustache.
Oh, playing the mysterious type, are we?
Two could play that game.
Without a word, you let the blanket slide from your shoulders, allowing the chill of the room to bite at your skin. You rose from the couch and crossed to the fireplace, and felt his gaze searing into your back; you knew exactly how the hem of your shirt rode up with every step. You knew you were showing just the right amount of skin, and that as you leaned over to reach for the poker, your tights and ass were perfectly framed by the glow of the embers.
You gripped the iron tool and shifted the logs, moving with an unnecessary focus and tending to the fire while the heat enveloped you. When you finished, you set the poker back in its stand and turned around with excruciating patience.
You found him exactly as you expected: staring. His gaze was so heavy, so raw, it felt as though it could physically pin you against the wall. You didn't flinch. You held his stare and began to trace your own waist through the thin fabric of the shirt. You moved your fingers with a gentle touch, stroking upward, dragging the hem higher inch by inch, and stopped only when your fingers reached your naked waist, letting the garment hang dangerously high.
You stood still, waiting for him to make a move. But Javier didn't stop you, nor did he look away. Instead, he shifted his hips slightly forward on the couch, and you noted, with a silent surge of triumph, the way his breathing began to quicken.
"Do you want me to keep going... or do you want me to stop?" you asked.
He remained incredibly still. “How the hell am I supposed to look your daddy in the eye when I cash my paycheck?”
You offered a lopsided smile, feeling the power of the moment firmly in your grasp. You began to close the distance between you, step by step. When you were directly in front of him, you leaned down, resting your arms on the back of the couch just behind his head, trapping him within your space.
“Oh, come on,” you whispered, tilting closer. “You really wanna pretend you care?”
Your lips hovered dangerously near his.
“You’ll put on that good-man act,” you murmured. “Smile nice and polite while your eyes give absolutely nothing away.” Your gaze flicked briefly toward his mouth. “Such a good man. Always protecting me.”
Javier let out a low growl, and his hand clamped firmly around your wrist.
With a sudden, violent yank, he pulled you down onto him. You gasped as you collided with the heat of his bare chest, and your hands instinctively grasped his shoulders before sliding down over the hard ridges of his pectorals.
He wasted no time, hauling you up until you were straddling him, your bare thighs gripping his waist. One of his hands surged upward, locking his fingers around your jaw. He squeezed just enough to force your head back, and tilted your face toward his as he hauled you closer. His breath fanned across your lips.
"Does anyone know about this?" he rasped. "That you wanna go behind your daddy’s back and your rich little boyfriend just to get fucked by your bodyguard?"
Your heart hammered so violently against your ribs you thought it might shatter them. "No."
Javier’s eyes darkened, turning into two pits of black ink. "Tell me, how does that boy like to fuck you? I bet he’s so wasted half the time he can’t even get his dick hard enough to do the job. What a waste."
He dragged his thumb across your lower lip, pressing down and stretching your mouth open.
"He likes it on his back," you whispered, your voice trembling as you leaned into his touch. "Or doggy style, if he’s feeling adventurous."
You moved your mouth closer to his, so close your lips brushed his; his thumb was still hooked over your bottom lip.
"And what about you?" you challenged, your eyes locked onto his. "How would you fuck me?"
He leaned in, his lips brushing the soft skin of your ear. "I’m not really good with words, sweetheart."
In response, your hand traveled slowly up the expanse of his bare chest. "Then show me."
You pulled back just enough to catch his gaze before reaching for the hem of your shirt, and dragged the fabric upward and over your head, tossing it into the shadows. Javier fell into silence; his eyes tracked your movement, dropping to your bare breasts and devouring the sight of you in the amber firelight. Beneath you, you felt him surge; thick and rock hard, straining against the thin towel directly against you.
You reached up, cupping his face with one hand, and your thumb grazed his cheekbone. Slowly, you closed the distance, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that was deceptively tender. You parted your lips for him, your tongue sliding in to taste him.
As you deepened the kiss, your other hand wound into the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling firmly to tilt his head back. You caught his lower lip between your teeth and gave a playful tug.
He let out a growl, so animalistic and raw that vibrated from his chest straight into you. His hands slammed onto your backside and his fingers pressed deep into the flesh of your glutes. He jerked your hips forward, grinding you ruthlessly against his throbbing erection; the thin barrier of the towel did nothing to hide the fact that he was ready to snap.
And then, he broke the kiss.
"You have no idea what you’ve started," he rasped.
Javier didn’t wait for an answer. He attacked your neck, his teeth grazing your skin and his tongue swirling over the spot where your pulse was jumping. One of his hands slid from your hip, traveling up your ribcage until he captured your breast, squeezing it and flicking your nipple over and over with his thumb, watching as it peaked under his touch.
His other hand didn't stay still; he reached down between your bodies, his fingers hooking under the edge of your panties and shoving them aside. When he found you, he let out a whimper; Javier buried two fingers inside you with a sudden thrust, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing it with such a soft and heavy pressure that your back arched as soon as you felt him.
"Yes, fuck" you whimpered, your head falling back as the friction made you shiver.
He just watched you unravel, moving his fingers and letting them get wet. There was a triumphant smirk ghosting his lips.
A moment later, he withdrew his fingers; glistening and wet, he brought them to his mouth, tasting you without breaking eye contact. It was so filthy; no one had ever looked at you this way. Or at least, it had never felt this natural and raw before.
He gripped your waist again, his knuckles white with the effort of holding back.
"Not here," he gritted out. "Get on the rug. Lay down in front of the fire."
Obediently, you slid off his lap as Javier stood with you. You turned away, dropping to all fours on the rug and crawling toward the hearth. Every muscle in your back and hips flexed under the orange glow, your skin prickling as the intense heat of the flames washed over you and your body moved with a deliberate sway of your hips, feeling his eyes burning a hole in your spine, before settling onto your backside in the center of the rug.
Standing right over you, he reached for the knot of the towel at his waist and jerked it free, tossing it carelessly onto the couch.
There he was, fully exposed in the flickering light. He was massive; his cock thick, angry and fully erect, pulsing with every thud of his heart. A single glistening bead of pre-cum clung to the tip, reflecting the fire. It watered your mouth. A second later, he wrapped a large hand around the base of his shaft, grazing the dark curls of hair at his groin, and began to slowly pump himself.
The sight of him doing that just for you made your breath hitch. The payoff to every thought you’d had about this hard quiet man over the past year couldn’t be sweeter.
Without breaking eye contact, you hooked your fingers into the lace of your panties and dragged them down your legs, kicking them aside. You lay back on the rug, spreading your legs wide until you were completely open to him.
The heat of the fire was nothing compared to the ache between your thighs. You slid your hand down and your fingers disappeared into your own wetness. You began to stroke yourself, circling your clit with a slick pressure while watching him stroke himself right above you.
"Look at you," Javier rasped. His hand moved faster now. "Open like a gift for me. Soaked and desperate."
You let out a broken moan, arching your back as your fingers worked harder, slicking your folds with your own cream. "Don't make me wait."
He stopped mid-stroke, his chest heaving as he stared down at the way you were touching yourself. His face was full of pure delicious lust.
Javier dropped to his knees between your thighs a second later, the heat from the hearth making his shoulders glisten like oil. But he didn't rush; he started by dragging his fingertips along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, teasing the edges of your wetness until you were squirming beneath him. Then, he pressed his palm flat against your mound, grinding in a slow circle that forced a jagged breath from your lungs.
He slid two thick fingers into you, pushing deep until he hit hilt, and started a slow soft pump; in and out, stretching you, letting you feel the sheer size of him through his hands. Then, he hooked his fingers upward, findind that one delicious spot that always made your toes curl.
In the privacy of your own company, you’d driven yourself to the edge with this exact motion more times than you could count. Half the time, Javier had been right on the other side of the door, completely unaware; you knew how to stay quiet. But your fingers were nothing like his. Not in the way they moved, not in their size, and definitely not because this time, it was him doing it. It was enough to make stars burst behind your eyes.
The sound was so filthy, so wet.
"You hear that?" he muttered. "You're so fucking wet for me, baby, aren't you?"
You threw your head back, your cheeks burning with a feverish flush. Every time he curled his fingers, a hot jolt shot through your spine. When you opened your eyes for a fleeting second, all you could see was the orange roar of the fire, blurring into a haze of pleasure.
Suddenly, he leaned down, burying his face between your legs. When his tongue lashed against your clit, you let out a strangled sob, your fingers instinctively diving into his thick hair, clutching him against you. He was destroying you, his mouth working with punishing hunger that pushed you right to the edge of unraveling.
You began to toss your head, your hips bucking uselessly as you tried to find friction. You were so close.
But then, he pulled away abruptly. His fingers vanished, his mouth left your skin, and the sudden cold made you whimper in protest.
"What do you want?" he gritted out through clenched teeth. His chest was heaving, his face was inches from yours.
You ran a trembling hand through your hair, staring up at him with blown out pupils as your breasts were rising and falling frantically.
Javier reached down, his large hand sliding under your hip to give your ass a stinging slap that made you jump.
"I just asked you a question," he growled. "What do you want?"
You pushed yourself up onto your elbows; your hair was a mess around your shoulders.
"I want you to fuck me," you breathed. "So fucking hard and deep, Javier. Can you do that for me?"
A dark, dangerous shadow crossed his face. Slowly, he nodded, his gaze locked onto yours with a promise of total ruin.
"Yeah," he rasped, reaching for his cock. "I can do that."
Javier gripped his shaft and guided the head to your entrance, which was already dripping and swollen. He didn't ease in; with a low grunt, he lunged forward, burying his entire length inside you in one deep soul shattering thrust.
The air left your lungs in a wheeze. You were stretched to the absolute limit, your internal muscles spasming around him as he bottomed out. He stayed there for a moment, buried deep, as his forehead rested against yours.
"You're so fucking tight," he choked out.
You smiled, suddenly cock-drunk. And he began to hammer into you with a raw intensity, his hips hitting yours with a slap so loud it echoed over the crackling fire and your heartbeat. He reached down and yanked one of your knees upward, pinning it against your chest so he could drive even deeper.
"Yes, please," you sobbed, your head thrashing against the rug. "Please, don't stop... oh god, don't stop."
He leaned down, his mouth crashing against yours in a kiss for a moment before his attention shifted to your neck, his teeth sinking into the delicate cord of your throat. You screamed into him, your own teeth catching his shoulder, biting down hard enough to leave marks as the pleasure became too much to bear. It felt like your nervous system was short-circuiting, every nerve ending screaming under the friction of him filling you.
Javier let out a loud, pained moan and his pace became frantic. He reached up, and his large hand wrapped around your throat; not to choke, but to pin you, to claim you. He forced you to look at him.
"Mirame a los ojos," he rasped. "Mira como estás. You think that rich boy could ever make you cry like this? You think he knows how to break you open?"
He slammed into you again, harder this time, harder and harder, his thumb stroking your jaw while his fingers tightened slightly on your neck. Your breath was completely destroyed, coming in tiny pathetic hitches.
"You’re mine tonight," he growled. "Mine. Just my cock stretching you out until you can't think of anyone else. Say it. Tell me who's fucking you. Say it."
"You," you gasped, your vision blurring as you neared the ledge. "You are... Javier... please…"
He let out another groan, his muscles coiling like a spring as he prepared to lose the last of his control.
The sound was absolute filth and you loved it. You could feel yourself overflowing, your own heat and cream coating his shaft and dripping down the curve of your ass, slicking the insides of your thighs until every thrust felt like sliding through hot velvet.
Javier let out a ragged uneven breath. He reached down, hooking his forearms under your pits and hauling your upper body off the rug until you were arched toward him.
"Look at you," he commanded. "Look how well you're taking me."
You forced your eyes open, glancing down through a haze of sweat and pleasure to see the primal sight of his thick cock disappearing into you and pulling out glistening with your nectar, over and over.
"See how sweet you are for me?" he growled. "How you take every inch like you were made for it?"
Before you could even gasp, he shifted his grip; his hand buried deep into the hair at the nape of your neck and jerking your head back. He crashed his mouth against yours in a desperate kiss.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him flush against you as your breasts crushed into his damp chest, and hooked your legs high around his waist, locking your ankles behind his back.
"Please... yes, right there, Javi," you sobbed into his mouth, your internal muscles clenching around him. "I'm so close... I’m right there."
"I know, baby," he gritted out.
He was losing it too; the measured man was gone, replaced by a one driven by pure lust. His skin was scorching, slick with sweat that acted like a lubricant between your bodies, and for the first time all night, you were no longer cold.
His movements became desperate. "Don't you move," he hissed. "Take all of it. Take it, take it, you're such a fucking good girl."
The climax hit you hard and soft at the same time; your entire body spasmed, your back arching off the rug in a messy line as the first wave of the orgasm tore through you. Debilitating, high-pitched whimpers escaped your throat and got lost in the roar of the fire. You were unraveling, every muscle in your cunt clenching around him in a desperate pulse that seemed to have no end.
Javier didn't let up; his movements became erratic and frantic as he felt you shattering beneath him. His fingers dug into your waist with bruising force, his knuckles white as he anchored himself inside of you; you reached for him blindly, your hands roaming over his sweat slicked shoulders, his heaving chest, his jaw.
You pulled him down, kissing him, your teeth catching his lip and drawing a metallic tang of blood. And as you finally broke apart for air, a thin, silver thread of saliva lingered between your mouths.
He let out a broken moan, his face contorting into a pained beautiful expression that looked almost like he was weeping. He pressed his forehead hard against yours, his eyes squeezed shut as he fought to stay upright.
"Come inside me," you choked out, your voice a wrecked whisper against his lips. "Come inside me, Javi... please…"
With three more violent thrusts, his entire frame went rigid. A low sob erupted from his lungs as he finally surrendered, and you felt the scorching heat of him flooding you, wave after wave of his release pumping deep into your womb, filling the space he’d spent the last minutes claiming.
He went still then, buried to the hilt, his weight collapsing forward as he trembled against you, savoring the dying echoes of the friction and the absolute chaos of the storm outside.
Slowly, he let his forehead fall against yours, and your hands slid up his broad shoulders until they curled around the back of his neck.
You smiled softly. “Where’s the serious man who wouldn’t even look me in the eye during the drive?” you teased. “You look different now.”
Javier lifted his head just enough to meet your gaze. His hand brushed gently along your cheek before he gave a faint shake of his head.
“He’s gone. You buried him the second you took that shirt off. I’m supposed to be the one protecting you, but God help me… I’d do it all over again just to hear you fall apart like that one more time.”
His words felt like a victory; they sent a thrill through your stomach.
“Well,” you murmured, your fingers tracing lightly along the back of his neck, “it’s just gonna be you and me until tomorrow.”
x reader she's like Barbie. she can be anything. she can be everything. she can do whatever I'm not dare to do in rl and she can choose her man. *sigh* Life've never been better.
Rebound | Javier Peña x F!Reader x Frankie Morales | ~3.7k wc | Explicit.
Summary: After your ex literally dumps you, two handsome strangers become your rebound.
Tags: No use of y/n, reader is afab and able-bodied, reader is a woman of color yet everyone is encouraged to read, no physical descriptions except that she has hair than be pulled/tugged/threaded through, smut smut smut, mfm threesome, porn no plot, oral sex (f!receiving; m!receiving), spit roasting, unprotected p-in-v sex, two guys eating pussy at the same damn time, creampie, sorry for any stray typos/grammatical mistakes, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay, thanks!
A/N: this has been rotting in my wip graveyard for some time, but after working on it intermittently for a while, i finally got the inspiration i needed to finish it. yippee! dedicated to steph ( @cowboy-like-m3 ) who is always so supportive of my works and literally the sweetest person everrrrr. love ya, bb! hope you enjoy this. reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated, thank you 🖤
You stand on the side of the road, clothes drenched from the downpour that’s literally making this already bad day worse.
This reason exactly is why you broke up with your ain’t shit boyfriend. He’d always leave you in the worst predicaments then act like it was all your fault.
So when you two got into a routine argument while on the way to your place, you decided then and there that you didn’t want to put up with it anymore. So you dumped his ass.
And what did he do? Dumped your ass too, in a literal sense.
That asshole pulled over and told you to get out of his car. You were honestly a little surprised that he would stoop as low as to leave you deserted on the side of the road.
Now here you are with a dead phone and wet clothes, teeth chattering as you stick your thumb out in hopes that any of the cars that drive by see your request for assistance and have it in them to stop and help you out.
You feel like you’re in the beginning of some thriller movie or some shit, knowing that the odds of something bad happening to you are increasing by the second on this fairly deserted stretch of road.
Just as you’re about to give up hope, headlights cut through the rain and you see a pick up truck slowing down until it’s right where you are.
The window rolls down and possibly the most handsome man you’ve ever seen is looking directly at you.
“Where you headed?”
You’re struck momentarily. The passenger has a cap pulled low over messy curls, while the driver sports a perfectly trimmed mustache and intense brown eyes. They’re both stupidly attractive.
“J-Just into town. Or if you have a phone I can call a ride.”
“It’s pouring out. We’ll drive you. Only if you’re comfortable with that.”
He gives you a suave once over, gaze lingering on your exposed thighs from your mini skirt, then trailing up to your hard nipples that show through the thin material of your top.
His gaze on you feels good and it has heat pooling at your cheeks.
You bite your lip, weighing your options. The smart choice would be to just call your best friend and have them pick you up.
However, how often is it that you have not one but two hot guys offering to help you out?
Throwing caution into the wind, you say fuck it and take them up on their offer to drive you home.
“That’d actually be super helpful. If you don’t mind…”
“It’s no problem.” He smiles kindly at you, opening the door and slipping out, offering you the middle spot on the bench seat of the truck.
Oh fuck.
You politely return the smile and get in, giving him a good view of your ass as your skirt rides up when you climb into your spot.
His eyes linger but he doesn’t make it weird, getting in next to you. Now you’re in between these two and it has your breath catching, senses overwhelmed with their presence and smell of their colognes.
“It’s a tight fit in here. Sorry,” the driver murmurs, shifting slightly so you have a little more room. Still, your thigh presses firmly against his, and your arm brushes the other man’s.
“It’s fine,” you breathe, heart racing. “Thank you. I’ve been out there for what feels like forever.”
“You having car trouble or something?” the passenger asks, taking off his cap to run a hand through his curls before putting it back on.
You scoff, staring at the road ahead as the truck pulls forward. “I wish. My stupid fucking boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend, ditched me out here when I dumped his ass for being a piece of shit.”
Both men chuckle and it has a thrill shooting up your spine.
“What kinda man leaves a pretty little thing like you stranded out on the road like that?”
“Not a real one.”
Your heart thuds in your chest and you shift in your spot, which they both notice immediately and it has them smirking in their own way.
“I’m Frankie, by the way.” Says the one with the cap (who’s been doing most of the talking) while the hot one with the mustache drives silently, occasionally his eyes meet yours in the mirror and the tension there makes your pussy throb.
“Javier.” He introduces himself and you do the same, telling them your name.
“Where in town do you want us to drop you off at?”
You give Javier loose directions and he gives you a tilt of his chin in acknowledgement.
“Feel free to tell us to fuck off, but I own a bar not far from where you’re going—if you wanted to stop for a drink. On the house, considering what a shitty day you’ve had.” Frankie tells you, very boldly resting his calloused hand on your wet thigh.
Almost lightheaded from the action, you can’t give him an answer right away, especially when Javier mirrors it and places his free hand on your other thigh.
You’d be an idiot to pass this up.
You don’t even remember how many drinks it took to get you making out with Javier as sloppily as you are now.
His lips taste of whiskey as they trail down your jaw and latch onto your neck. Strong hands slide up your thighs, fingers digging into soft flesh with bruising force, yanking you flush against him. The scrape of his stubble against your sensitive skin sends sparks racing down your spine.
Whimpers spill from your throat as you tilt your head back, grateful the bar is closed and empty except for the three of you.
Frankie lounges on a nearby barstool, casually sipping his beer, dark eyes hooded with lust as he watches the way you and Javier devour each other. Your hands fist into Javi’s broad shoulders, nails biting into hard muscle when he sinks his teeth into that perfect spot on your neck.
You spread your thighs wider to accommodate his frame, grinding against the rough denim at his crotch. He grumbles into your neck at the feeling of it.
“You gonna let me fuck you baby, or have you just been a tease all night?”
You’re wordless and out of breath, bucking your hips up into his to chase more of that amazing friction.
Displeased with your lack of a reply, Javier wraps one hand around your throat and pulls back to look at you directly, squeezing softly. “Talk to me.”
You’ve never been more exhilarated, eyes glassed over in lust as you make direct eye contact. “Yes, fuck, yes I want you to fuck me.”
He smirks at how wrecked he’s got you, and it’s as irritating as it is enticing.
Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, body humming in anticipation as his fingers move dexterously, pulling your panties down your legs and off you, throwing them over his shoulder. Frankie reaches over to catch them, rubbing the damp lace between his fingers before tucking the pretty fabric into his back pocket.
Javier makes quick work of his jeans, pushing them down enough to release himself, his hard length making your breath hitch then whine desperately as he drags the underside between your folds, coating himself in your arousal, teasing your clit with every slow pass.
“How wet is she?” Frankie’s raspy voice somehow manages to reach your ears.
“Soaked. Bet I’ll be able to just slide right in.”
He does just that, pushing his cock inside you with maddening ease.
You fall back flat against the table top, moaning pathetically as you take everything he’s giving you.
The burning stretch is oddly pleasurable. He’s so thick, filling you so completely that you unrealistically feel him in your stomach.
You’ve never hooked up with someone with both size and girth as glorious as this man’s, and it probably explains why you suddenly feel like you can’t breathe, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he begins to fuck into you.
“Oh my god… oh fuck,” you chant breathlessly, fingers scrambling for purchase on the edge of the table. Your thighs tense with every thrust. Javi seems to be more amused by your reaction rather than the fact that your body is gripping him so tight.
He groans, eyes locked on where his cock disappears into your tight cunt. “Holy shit, she’s fuckin’ tight.”
The way they talk about you like you’re not even there makes you wetter. Your back arches off the surface when he hits that specific spot inside you, drawing a loud, needy sob from your lips.
“Bet she tastes sweet too,” suddenly Frankie’s voice is closer, as he’s standing behind you, dark eyes assessing the way your body moves with each thrust.
You are unable to say anything comprehensible, instead babbling out more moans and cries—especially when you feel Javier’s thumb press down against your clit, his cock coated in your buttery wetness.
Frankie leans over you, roughly pulling the neckline of your tank top down (you can hear the fabric rip slightly from the force of it), exposing your tits to both of their lecherous gazes. He caresses the soft skin before pinching your tight nipples between his calloused fingers, relishing in the yelp you make.
One of your hands comes up to wrap around his wrist, pleading him wordlessly to do it again.
He does, licking his lips lowly, his cock throbbing in anticipation of getting to fuck you. Whether that be your mouth or your pussy, he doesn’t really give a fuck. It’s not often that a pretty thing like you comes across him and Javier, so he won’t get greedy with whatever you give him.
Javi, on the other hand, is being the most indulgent bastard, pulling out of your cunt and slapping his dick against your puffy folds a few times before slamming back in, growling at the way your pussy flutters around him.
“You love this, don’t you?” he taunts. “Getting used by two strangers who picked you up on the side of the road like a desperate little slut.”
The degrading words make you squeeze harder around him.
The dirty talk coming from Javier almost surprises Frankie, since the man is basically mute in his day to day, unless he’s pissed off about something. Hearing him so vocal and degrading towards you spurs Francisco to be just as indulgent, pulling his touch from your breasts so that he can free himself from the confines of his jeans, his heavy cock flushed and hovering over your parted lips.
Sweat beads along your temple, eyes watering in pure ecstacy. “I love it. Needed it so bad,” your lips pout up at Frankie, another wordless request.
I want to taste you.
“I’m going to be dreamin’ about these eyes every night baby, holy shit.” He says with a heavy sigh, breaching your mouth, the salty taste of his cock dizzying you further as he slides in until the tip nudges the back of your throat, making you gag lewdly all over him.
Both men groan in unison at the sound. Your cunt clenches violently around Javier’s cock in response, earning you another deep, appreciative thrust.
Your body burns—full, stretched, and completely used in the best possible way. You’ve never wanted anything more.
Frankie grips your hair tight to keep your head right where he wants it, feeding you more of his thick cock as he rocks his hips, fucking your throat in shallow, greedy thrusts.
Saliva drips messily down your chin, coating his heavy balls every time they tap against your face. The lewd sucking sounds fill the empty bar as he takes your mouth.
At the same time, Javier pounds into your pussy. Your juices coat his shaft and drip down to your asshole, making everything feel so filthy.
Every thrust from Javier forces you further onto Frankie’s dick, making you choke and drool even more.
“Her throat’s even better than I imagined… so fucking warm and tight.”
You’re lost in the sex, moaning and whimpering around Frankie as your orgasm builds violently.
Your pussy continues to flutter rhythmically around Javier’s length, sucking him deeper, until you come hard. A muffled scream vibrates around Frankie’s length as your whole body convulses, spewing around Javier.
Both men groan at the feeling, but they don’t stop, not until you feel Javi’s warm release pulsing inside you.
They ease out of you, leaving you gasping, pussy spasming and drooling onto the table.
Before you can catch your breath, they manhandle you further up the table so your ass rests right where they want you. Javier drops to his knees between your spread thighs, while Frankie does the same. You spread your thighs even wider, seeing double as you take in what’s being done to you.
Two ravenous mouths descend on your soaked and used sex at the same time.
Javier licks a broad, filthy stripe from your entrance up to your clit, while Frankie sucks your swollen folds into his mouth.
Their tongues battle over your pussy—lapping, sucking, and fighting for every drop of your sweet arousal, mixed with the creamy release of the orgasm you gave Javier.
The sounds of them devouring you wholly are louder than your own desperate sobs.
Javier pushes his tongue deep inside you, fucking you with it while Frankie sucks hard on your clit. Then they switch—Frankie’s thicker tongue spearing into your cunt as Javier flicks the tip of his tongue mercilessly against your sensitive pearl. The constant shifting, the competition between them has your body twitching as if you’ve just been electrocuted.
They get so lost in it that their tongues occasionally meet, sliding against each other over your clit. They don’t pull away. Instead, they kiss sloppily right there—tongues tangling hotly, sharing your taste between them while their lips grind against your dripping pussy.
The filthy sight alone nearly makes you come again. You don’t even notice the way they’re both stroking their cocks vigorously as they kneel before you.
You’re on cloud nine, floating out of your body. Nothing else exists except the relentless pleasure of two capable men devouring your cunt. Their facial hair scrapes deliciously against your skin.
Javier groans deeply as he moves over to kiss and nip at your inner thigh, the vibration traveling straight into you. Frankie hums in approval when another gush of your tangy arousal coats his tongue.
“Oh my fucking god—” you weep, fingers threading desperately through their soft hair, not sure whether you’re trying to pull them closer or push them away from the intense sensation.
They switch tactics then. Javier seals his lips around your clit and sucks hard while Frankie pushes two thick fingers inside you, curling them perfectly against your g-spot. Then Javier adds his own fingers, stretching you wider as their tongues continue to lap and swirl and battle over your throbbing clit.
The pressure builds powerfully fast. Your thighs quiver around their heads, back arching clean off the table as another piercing orgasm rips through you. You finish hard, coming all over their tongues and chins, crying out their names in a wrecked wail.
They lick you through every tremble, drinking every ounce until you’re a shaky, oversensitive puddle of a woman.
Only then do they finally pull back, lips shiny and swollen, chins glistening with your release. They look at each other, then at your ruined body, both of them breathing hard with wicked hunger in their eyes.
They still haven’t had enough of you.
Taking their respective positions, you’re moved again, this time flipped onto your stomach, loose tits pressing against the sticky table top as Frankie positions himself behind you, hiking up your skirt over your hips.
His large hands lift your waist up so that your spine is bowed exactly how he wants it, thighs pressed together, your pussy enticing him to slip in again.
“Gorgeous…” you hear him mutter, a miracle really since you’re panting hard as fuck right now. He gropes your ass, spreading your cheeks, taking some of your pussy lip too so that he can get a good look at your needy sex.
Javier is in front of you, his cock rock hard again as he strokes it in front of your face, licking his lips to taste more of your sweet cunt.
“Fuck her for a bit. I want to see her face while you’re inside her.” Javi’s tone is gravelly and deep, it makes you squirm, tongue hanging out of your mouth like a bitch in heat to try and get his dick in your mouth.
There’s a smug smile on Francisco’s face as he does exactly as his friend directed, taking his cock in palm and notching it at the mouth of your pussy before slamming in.
You sharply exhale his name, squeezing your eyes shut as he starts to fuck you at a quick yet gratifying pace.
A heavy hand taps at your cheek firmly, making you flutter your blurry eyes open to gaze up at Javier.
“Keep those pretty eyes open.” He tells you, his shaft bobbing in front of your face, the faint smell of your pussy clinging to him.
He just watches the way your expression twists and pinches in absolute bliss, head tilting in a mocking gesture as you two keep eye contact while Frankie plows into you, his hands now pawing at your luscious hips. He’s biting at his lower lip, brows pulled together in concentration as he relishes in the way your cunt swallows him whole then spits him out covered in your arousal.
Darkly satisfied by the carnal sight of you and Frankie fucking, Javier finally gives in to his horniness and slides his cock along the length of your hanging tongue, tipping his head back and clenching his jaw at the feel of your wet mouth around him
Your moan is muffled as Javi’s thick cock fills your throat. You struggle to keep your eyes open, tears trekking down your cheeks as both men continue to use your body for their own pleasure.
“Fuck her pussy is so damn good. Might have to keep you around for longer than a night, pretty girl.” Francisco grunts behind you, his own breath labored as he feels his balls tightening, his own orgasm looming over him.
“Bet you’d like that. Getting fucked whenever. Taken care of properly.”
The idea of being the orbit of these two is very, very appealing. Your pussy tingles at the prospect of getting to fuck them together like this again—or seperatley—you do not mind either outcome.
Javier cups your jaw with both hands, keeping you still as he starts to enthusiastically fuck your mouth, getting off on the tight constrict of your throat and gargling sound of you choking and drooling all over him.
Your brain has been thoroughly fucked out of your skull. You’ve been reduced to this mindless person that’s been conquered by avaricious men who have somehow learned your body and everything that unravels you in the short amount of time you’ve been in their presence.
The three of you move and fuck in sync, hitting flow state, pornagraphic noises rattling around the open space of the empty bar.
You tap on Javi’s thigh when you feel like you can’t breathe, your nose clogged up and throat full of his cock blocking your airway. He pulls out in a sloppy, wet mess as you gasp in air to fill your lungs. You bring one shaky hand up to wrap around the base, stroking him in time with the backshots Frankie is still delivering.
His grip on your waist tightens, nails breaking the soft skin, no doubt leaving marks that you don’t ever want to fade.
“I’m about to c-come,” you stutter out, using your tongue to lick around the bulbous tip of Javi’s length, flicking it all over before lathering every inch with devout attention.
They both fucking cuckle at you, picking up the pace of their ministations.
“C’mon baby, give it to us. Just one more.”
“Doin’ so good, looking so fucking hot while you’re taking two cocks.”
Blood roars in your ears as your body locks up and your final orgasm shocks your system. In that moment, you deep throat Javi as deep as you can, nose flush against his pelvis as you burst all around Frankie’s cock.
Javier grips your hair as he spills down your throat, which you swallow down eagerly. Frankie spanks your ass in a harsh sting before burying himself to the root, squirting his cum into your engorged pussy.
You blackout. Like… seriously… falling limp between them as you doze off, feeling sensations you’ve never experienced before.
When you come to again, you’re lying on one of the booth seats in the corner, a leather jacket that reeks of cigarette smoke and cologne blanketing your body.
You sit up slowly, wincing, bringing a hand up to rub at your eye, the flakes of your mascara rubbing off on your palm. Your throat feels scratchy, the lower half of your body sore from the strenuous coital activities you’d been part of.
“She’s awake.”
Frankie approaches you with a glass of water and two ibuprofen pills, handing them over. You take them without hesitation, popping the painkillers and swallowing down the glass of water. You hadn’t realized how thirsty you were.
“You okay?’ His sweet brown eyes meet yours, sitting at your side but giving you your personal space.
Nodding, you flash him a warm smile. “Better than okay. Where’s Javi?”
“Had to run out to handle something. That’s his jacket you were sleeping with.”
Your fingers curl around the leather. “How long was I out?”
“Not long. Maybe half an hour. Guess we worked you pretty hard.”
You see the ghost of a smirk threatening to show itself on his soft lips.
“It was fun,” your eyes sparkle mischievously, the smudged mascara tangible evidence of how messily satisfied you’ve been left.
Frankie slides in closer, arm thrown across the back of the booth, staring down at you, suggestion coating his intense stare. “Wanna stick around? My place isn’t far from here… Jav should be back soon…” he trails off.
Your pussy tingles, literally, at the invitation. What do you have to lose? Not a boyfriend, that’s for damn sure.
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Summary: Failed mission, tiny plane, tension so thick you could choke on it… and Javier Peña looking at you like that. It was supposed to be a quiet flight back to bogotá. It wasn’t.
Warnings: 18+ minors dni, explicit sexual content, p in v sex, unprotected sex, public sex (kinda), airplane sex, dirty talk, cock worship, size kink because javier and his huge cargo, javier peña ruining lives as usual, he holds you / he fucks you / same man
w/c: 3.4k • javi fic masterlist • taglist form
You and Javier are flying back to Bogotá after a failed mission. Cali was a fucking mess. You really thought you were gonna get Gilberto Rodriguez. You had him. Like actually had him. And then? Nothing. Gone. Just like that. At this point it feels like the whole Cali cartel is cursed or something. Nothing ever goes how it’s supposed to.
You’re sitting across from Javier. Small plane, just you two and the pilot up front. There’s barely any space here. Maybe one more seat if you’d actually managed to bring Gilberto back. But yeah. That didn’t happen.
The plane takes off and your stomach drops like it always does. That familiar feeling. Except now you’re not even sure it’s just the flying. It’s probably everything mixed together. The shitty mission. The fact you hate flying. And also… Javier sitting right there.
Like. Right in front of you. In those gray pants that already show way too much even on a normal day. And now he’s sitting there with his legs spread like that.
Usually that shit annoys you. Like why do men always sit like that, taking up space for no reason… but with Javier it kinda makes sense. Because… yeah. It probably wouldn’t be very comfortable for him otherwise.
And you know that. Very well.
It wasn’t even that long ago you found out exactly why. When he had you bent over in that storage room with the classified files, pretending he was looking for something. Yeah. Sure. Only thing he was actually looking for was a way into your panties.
Not that you cared. If anything, you’d been waiting for it since the first time you saw him. Pathetic? Maybe. But whatever. You can’t exactly resist him.
And just the thought of how big he felt inside you not that long ago makes your stomach flip harder than the plane does.
The plane finally levels out and you relax a little… and then you realize. You’ve been straight up staring at his crotch. Fuck. You swallow and quickly look up, trying to play it off, maybe look out the window or something, anything…
But the second you do, you catch Javier already looking at you. And yeah. He definitely knows exactly where you were looking. Shit.
“I’m glad you’re having fun,” he mutters, almost pissed.
“What?” Jesus, what’s your problem?
“Nothing, just… we fucked it up and your only concern is staring at my dick, huh…”
“Hey,” you snap, shooting him a look. “I get that you’re pissed, but you don’t have to take it out on me, okay?!” It actually stings. You don’t know him like this.
He’s never taken his frustration out on you before. You just look at each other for a second, like some silent challenge over who’s gonna look away first.
“Sorry,” Javier says quietly, dropping his gaze. “Sorry, fuck… that was out of line… it’s just… everything’s fucked.” He doesn’t seem like he wants to keep talking.
But you still poke at him a little. Because yeah, he pissed you off, but that comment about his dick? It stuck. Because yeah. You were staring. And thinking about things a DEA agent probably shouldn’t be thinking about right after a failed mission. “Hm… maybe I was staring because…”
Before you can finish, Javier looks up at you again, suddenly paying attention.
“Maybe I was staring because I thought you might appreciate something to take your mind off things,” you raise an eyebrow. You’re not even sure you look that convincing after a whole day like this, but apparently it works.
Javier swallows, his throat moving, and his eyes go darker. Like they always do when the blood stops being in his head and starts going somewhere else.
You don’t wait for him to say anything. You unclip your seatbelt and slowly start getting up. Trying to ignore the fact you just unbuckled mid-flight and are about to climb into someone’s lap in a tiny plane. You can’t even stand up fully, the cabin’s too low.
Javier watches you. Something flickers in his eyes for a second. Concern… or something softer? Fuck, probably not. Still, he looks caught off guard by what you’re doing. “Hey, you probably shouldn’t…” He doesn’t even get to finish before you move.
You just go for it. No thinking. You climb into his lap, straddling him. To keep your balance, you grab onto his shoulders.
Javier catches you instantly, his big hands sliding down to your ass, pulling you closer like he’s making sure you don’t fall. Or maybe he just knows you hate flying. Whatever. It feels good.
You can feel the heat of his body. His breathing’s a little heavier now, probably because you’re sitting right there, way too close to his crotch. He’s staring at you, lips slightly parted. That lower lip of his pushed out just a bit, like when he’s surprised. You love that look. His hair’s still messy from outside, a few strands falling over his forehead. He’s so fucking handsome it’s almost stupid. It never stops hitting you.
“What are you doing?” he whispers, but his grip on your ass tightens a little.
You smile, because right now Javier is somehow both a little stupid and way too hot. “Shh,” you whisper back.
You don’t wait. You unclip his seatbelt. Your fingers brush against his shirt as you move, your hand sliding over his stomach, soft and warm. You trace over it, slow. You love that part of him. He’s not some gym-obsessed asshole with abs, and he’s still the hottest man you’ve ever seen.
Javier’s chest rises as he takes a deep breath. “You shouldn’t…” he tries again, but you know he’s not actually stopping you. He’s just waiting to see what you do next. Like he’s already letting you.
You shut him up with a kiss. He reacts instantly, his lips moving with yours, his tongue pushing into your mouth right away. Fuck, you love it. It sends a shiver through your whole body, straight down between your legs. Your fingers slide into his hair and pull him closer.
For a moment you’re just kissing. Tongues, messy, a little impatient. Javier tastes like cigarettes and mint gum. You can smell his cheap cologne, almost faded, and then something that’s just him. It’s a mix that goes straight to your head, fucks with all your senses. Like he doesn’t even have to try and he still gets full control over you. Even when you try to take the lead, you end up giving in anyway, just because of how he tastes, how he smells.
Still, he lets you set the pace. Like he’s giving it up to you. Like he just wants to shut his brain off and forget the fucked up mission. Like you’re the one in charge now. “You’re trouble, you know that?” he breathes out.
“Mhm,” you mumble, not really answering. Your hands leave his hair and move down, straight to the bulge in his pants. You press against it, slow, testing. Fuck. These pants, and what’s under them…
He’s not even fully hard yet and it’s already this big. You love it. You love his cock, you can’t help it.
You tease him for a bit, just dragging your hand over the fabric, squeezing lightly now and then. And you can feel it. He’s reacting. His stomach starts rising faster with his breathing and yeah… it’s not gonna take long before he’s fully hard.
Your fingers move to the front of his pants. Button, zipper, all of it. You undo it like it’s muscle memory, like you do this every day. Which you don’t. Not really. Ever since he fucked you in that storage room a few weeks ago, nothing much has happened between you. Actually… nothing at all. And it’s been driving you insane.
Javier digs his fingers harder into your ass. You feel the heat of his touch even through the fabric.
That’s it. You’re done waiting. You slide your hand into his pants, expecting fabric, but there’s nothing. Your palm lands straight on his skin. On his cock. Already hard. You look up at him. “Agent Peña… no underwear?” you raise an eyebrow. Of course he doesn’t always wear any. Of course he doesn’t. It’s ridiculous. And hot as fuck.
Javier doesn’t say anything. He just lifts his hips slightly, like he’s pushing himself into your hand.
And you give it to him. You wrap your hand around him as much as the space in his pants allows and squeeze. And yeah, he reacts instantly. He’s fully hard now, pulsing in your hand. Hot. Ready. Big. Fuck. You love how big and thick he is. It shoots straight down into your stomach, into your core. You can already feel how wet you are and you’ve barely even started.
You run your thumb over the tip of his cock. Javier lets out a low sound. You can hear it even over the noise of the plane. And then it hits you. You’re not alone. There’s a pilot. Right there. But he’s got headphones on, doesn’t seem to be paying attention. There’s a thin plastic divider anyway.
And honestly… the fact he could still see something? That just makes it worse. Better. And you know one thing for sure. You need Javier’s cock inside you. Right now.
Without warning, you let go of his cock. Javier lets out a low, annoyed sound, and you get up off his lap. Careful not to hit your head, careful not to lose your balance because this tiny plane is anything but steady. But honestly, you don’t care.
You quickly undo your jeans and push them down, taking your panties with them. You don’t even care how it looks. Probably not sexy at all. But you don’t look away from Javier. Not for a second.
He’s watching you just as closely, his cock still in his hand. He strokes it a few times, like he’s making sure he doesn’t lose it.
Fuck. You want him so bad.
You kick your jeans off your ankles and leave them on the floor. Step back toward him. Grab his chin and tilt his face up. Then you lean in and kiss him.
Javier’s free hand grabs your bare ass from behind, a low growl against your mouth as he pulls you closer.
You gasp softly and pull back just enough. You’re done waiting. “Javi?”
He looks at you, fully focused now. His chest rising fast, like you can almost see his heartbeat under that thin shirt.
“I want… I want you to look at me. Look me in the eyes when your cock disappears inside me.”
His pupils blow wide. That clearly hits him. Maybe it even surprises him a little, hearing you say something like that. But he listens. Doesn’t take his eyes off you. His big hands stay on your ass, holding you steady. Keeping you in place. Like even like this, he’s still making sure you don’t fall.
Slowly. So fucking slowly it almost hurts, you lower yourself onto him. Javier’s so hard his cock is already lined up, you barely even have to guide it. Still, before you actually take him, you drag the tip through your folds, over your clit, slow and teasing.
You’re watching him. He’s watching you. Eye contact, locked in. And you can see it in his face.
He wants to snap his hips up into you so bad. But he doesn’t. He lets you take control. “Cariño,” Javier growls. “You’re driving me fucking crazy.”
Yeah. Same.
You stop dragging it out. You drop your hips down onto him. Feel him push inside you. Filling you up. Every inch, pressing against your walls, stretching you. You both let out a sound at the same time. You lean forward, head dropping to his shoulder, and take him all the way. Fully.
He’s all the way inside you. Every inch of him. Thick, heavy, perfect. The same cock you haven’t been able to stop thinking about since that day in the storage room.
Javier lets out a breath right into your ear and it sends another rush through your body. You love that. You love when men actually make noise, don’t hold it back. And Javier… yeah. The sounds he makes hit you just as hard as the way he feels inside you.
You start moving against him. Rolling your hips, lifting up and dropping back down. Up. Down. Again. Grinding into him while his hands grip your ass like he needs it to stay alive.
“Cariño… look at me,” he growls, breath uneven against your ear. “I wanna see you. Wanna see your face when you take me.”
That makes you lift your head. You look at each other again. His eyes half-lidded, yours probably the same.
You can feel how wet it is between you now. You don’t even know if it’s more you or him at this point. Probably both.
For a second, you glance toward the cockpit. The pilot isn’t paying attention at all. Has no idea what’s happening right behind him.
Javier clearly doesn’t like that. His hand comes up, grabs your chin, turns your face back to him. “I’m right here,” he growls. “And I wanna see you. Wanna see it on your face. Wanna see how much you like having my cock inside you. Wanna see what it does to you, knowing how much control you’ve got over me.”
Fuck. His words hit you hard. Your body reacts on its own, your muscles tightening around him.
Javier feels it. Of course he does. A small smirk pulls at his lips. “Good girl… so good. Show me what else you can do to me.”
You clench around him again, this time on purpose, watching him. Watching how he looks under you. Almost helpless. Completely at your pace. You see the way his breath catches every time you drop down on him, and you drag it out on purpose, pausing for a few seconds just to mess with him. You’re just about to speed up, get both of you there…
But then… the plane jerks. Hard. Fuck. Turbulence. The whole thing shakes, worse than before. Not unusual, this happens all the time, DEA pilots know what they’re doing… but you?
You hate flying. Your whole body goes stiff. Every muscle locks up. Your nails dig into his shoulders.
Javier doesn’t flinch. Instead, his hands slide to your back, pulling you down against his chest, holding you there. “Focus on me,” he says, firm. Like he’s trying to snap you out of it, out of that freeze your body just dropped into as the plane dips for a second.
You try to focus on him, not on the window, not on how tilted the plane feels. But it’s impossible to ignore. You feel it everywhere, even inside you, because the angle of his cock in you right now would usually drive you insane… but now your body’s just tense, your muscles tight, and you’re trying to convince yourself this plane isn’t about to go down.
Javier must be reading your mind. He pulls you closer, his hands moving over your back, slow, steady. You feel the warmth of his touch even through your shirt. You’re still frozen, stuck in it.
But under you, he starts moving. Not soft. Not slow. Deep. Steady. Intentional. Like he’s trying to pull you out of it. Ground you. Make you focus on him and nothing else.
And it works.
Just a little at first, but you feel it. Your body starts loosening up again. Your pulse picks up, faster now, not just from the turbulence but from him. From the way he’s moving inside you, the way you’re pressed against him. You feel him everywhere. His smell, right there, close to your face. Fuck. You try not to think about the fact that you might actually crash.
The plane steadies for a second.
Then drops again. Hard.
You lift your head fast, a sound almost breaking out of you, but Javier cuts it off with a kiss. His tongue pushes into your mouth, firm, not gentle. He kisses you like he’s trying to take the fear out of you, piece by piece.
His hips keep moving. He grips your ass, lifting you slightly, guiding you. Like he’s pulling you back into it. Like every thrust is him telling you: ‘I’ve got you, you’re okay.’
He keeps kissing you. Keeps moving inside you.
You don’t even know how much time has passed. You’re caught somewhere between pleasure and fear. Between adrenaline and the way Javier’s cock inside you is pulling you right back into it.
You start moving again. Slow at first, rolling your hips.
But every time the plane jerks, you stop. Your whole body locks up. Every muscle. Yeah. Every single one.
Javier feels it.
Feels the way you clamp down around him every time, and from the way his heart starts pounding harder against you, you know he’s getting close. And you don’t even know if it’s that, or everything mixed together, but you feel it too. Building.
He grips your ass tighter, pulls you down onto him, then snaps his hips up into you…
And at the exact same moment, the plane drops again, tilting hard.
You let out a broken sound. You don’t even know if it’s fear or pleasure anymore.
The plane’s shaking around you, and somehow you still find it in you to move. To grind against him. Faster. And faster.
You’re both moaning now.
And then the plane drops again, hard, and your body tightens around him… Javier growls into your ear, and then you feel it. His cock twitching inside you as he comes, filling you.
And that’s what pushes you over too. Right there, in the middle of turbulence, with the plane shaking around you, you come harder than you ever have. Your body shaking, everything hitting at once. You bury your face into his shirt, trying to muffle the sound that tears out of you.
You’re pressed together, still connected, his cock still twitching inside you, your body still clenching around him. You can feel his heartbeat, fast against you, his fingers digging into your ass while he breathes hard.
You don’t know how long you stay like that. Stuck together. Sweaty. Sticky. Wet.
But after a while, everything starts to calm down. The plane. The turbulence. You. Him. All that’s left is this. And your breathing.
Javier nudges you a little until you lift your head. You look at him. You already know how you probably look. Messy, fucked, sweaty. Not exactly your best moment. Okay maybe the ‘just got fucked’ part is kinda hot. The rest? Probably not.
But Javier’s looking at you like none of that matters. Like all he sees is something he likes. His expression’s softer now. A little curious. His eyes… gentle. Yeah, there’s still that ‘yeah I just fucked you’ look, but there’s something else there too. Something softer. Maybe a bit of concern. Like he’s checking you’re okay.
You can’t help it. You reach up and fix the damp strands of hair on his forehead, brushing them back. Your fingers linger for a second, soft. Like you wanna say thank you. For holding you. But the words don’t come out.
Javier gives you a small smile. “Better?” he asks, tilting his head slightly.
Your chest tightens. Maybe it’s everything. The adrenaline, the come down, all of it. But it hits you that he’s not just the guy who fucked you in a storage room. Not just the guy you were supposed to hook up with on a plane.
He’s the guy who held you. Who kept you steady. Even when he knew there was nothing actually dangerous about it. Even when he’s probably been through this a hundred times. He didn’t laugh. Didn’t brush it off.
He just… gave you something to hold onto. The way he knows how. The way he’s good at.
But you can tell that’s not all he is. Not even close. Maybe you just didn’t see it before. Not like this.
You nod, just a small one. I’m okay. It’s fine.
Javier reaches up and tucks a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “Well… if every bit of turbulence scares you like that,” he says, a hint of a smirk, “maybe we should fly together more often.”
You can’t help it. You smile. Because that idea? Yeah. You don’t hate it at all.
»»—— ⍟ ——««
Thank you so much for reading ♡ Likes, comments and reblogs always make me happy and help the story find more people ♡
summary: you and your ex husband are forced to see each other every week since you share custody of your daughter. arguments are the only thing left between the two of you, but is that enough to let him back in?
contents/warnings: mature - former established relationship, Chucho appearance, shared custody, arguments, insecurities, angst, buried feelings, 'the one that got away', first and last love, strong language, they're doing their best, drinking, dreaming, open ended, no description of reader, no uses on y/n. Apologies if I missed anything.
wc: 4100+
song: loml by taylor swift - "should've let it stay buried"
a/n: got this idea when this gif set was posted (i have a problem) but idk what possessed me while writing this bc it was just supposed to be a word vomit, but here we are 😀
᯽ part 2 | read on ao3
“Usa la espalda, hijo. (Use your back, son.)” Chucho’s voice ringed in Javier’s ears. The two men putting back up a fence that fell during a recent storm.
“Lo entendí, papá. (I got it, dad.)” Javier replies, making sure the wooden post is secure in the dirt.
“Thank you,” Chucho breathes out, placing his hands on his hips to admire their handiwork.
Just then, a familiar car pulls up, the gravel driveway crunching under the wheels before the car is parked. Javier lifts his head, taking off his yellow aviators to watch you get out of the car. You don’t look in his general direction, too focused on getting your daughter and her stuff out of the car.
He can hear you speaking cheerfully to her, both in Spanish and English. It reminds him of the good times the two of you had before the messy divorce. Neither of you necessarily did anything wrong, you just weren’t meant for each other in the end, and decided to go your separate ways.
For the sake of your daughter, you and Javier have shared custody over her. You get her one week and he gets her the next. The two of you have been doing fine with co-parenting. As well as two exes can be, that is.
A bead of sweat rolls down Javier’s temple, and he removes his gloves to wipe it.
“Intenta no enfurruñarte demasiado. (Try not to sulk too much.)” Chucho says, earning a huff from Javier before his daughter starts running up the driveway.
“Papá!” the girl yells, wrapping her chubby little arms around Javier’s leg.
Javier grunts as he bends over to pick her up, “Hola, dulce niña. (Hi, sweet girl.)”
She wraps her limbs around him as best as she can, giving him a big hug. “Me and mamá brought crafts!”
A grin spreads across Javier’s face, “Yeah?” he asks, watching her nod eagerly. “Why don’t you show your abuelo while I talk to your mom, okay?”
Reluctantly, she agrees, planting her feet on the ground before she’s running towards Chucho, giving him the same amount of love. Slowly, you walk up to Javier, your arms crossed over your chest, your daughter’s backpack hung over your shoulder.
“Llegas tarde de nuevo. (You’re late again.)” Javier states, narrowing his eyes just a fraction.
“Hello to you, too, Javier,” you spit out.
“I thought we agreed to have her with me by noon. It’s almost 2.”
“She wanted to go to the store to buy arts and crafts so she could have fun with her father. What the fuck was I supposed to do? Tell her no?”
Javier sighs deeply, placing his hands on his hips, “No.”
“Okay then. Don’t act like that with me.”
His lips press into a fine line before he hooks his aviators into his shirt. For a moment, your gaze drifts down to his chest—golden skin with sweat dripping down from his neck into the purple fabric stretched across his broad frame.
Your mind flashes back to the passionate nights the two of you had before everything fell apart. The whispered promises, the nail marks you’d leave on his back, the hickies he’d leave on your inner thighs. Ultimately ending with the two of you wrapped up in each other like there was no escaping. An unfamiliar pang stabs at your heart, your thighs involuntarily pressing together before you look away from him.
“How’s she been?” Javier breaks the silence, his voice soft and quiet.
“How do you think she’s been? She misses her father.”
“And what about you, huh?” he suddenly asks, taking a step closer to you.
“What about me, Javier?” you don’t back down—you never did, which is why your arguments almost always escalated without fail.
“Do you miss me? Or you still hate me for all the shit that you caused?”
“Me?” you ask with raised eyebrows, pointing at yourself. “You are so goddamn full of yourself,” you scoff, turning around to walk back to your car.
The gravel crunches under Javier’s boots as he follows after you, suppressed anger starting to rise to the surface after so long. “You believed the bullshit that your friends told you, over me!”
“You didn’t give me much of a choice, Javier,” you turn around, his body nearly colliding into yours. “Where were you when I needed you?” you don’t wait for his answer, “Oh, that’s right, you were out getting drunk instead of coming home.”
“To avoid this,” he points between your two bodies, “It was always an argument with you.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have given me a reason to argue with you.”
Briefly your gaze travels behind him to make sure your daughter and Chucho are inside before you take a step closer, crowding his space. His musky scent travels to your nostrils, the smell of wood, nicotine, whiskey, and sweat making your head a little fuzzy.
“You stopped coming home at night,” you pause, watching him avert your gaze, “And that was well before I even gave birth.”
It was easy for the two of you to fall back into this pattern again. It’s all you’ve known for the last six years now. Pain and suffering. Not knowing if he was dead in a ditch somewhere because he got too drunk and couldn’t drive himself home.
Javier was your first love. You’ll always love him, but you can’t go through that again. Having a child changed everything, and she’ll continue to be the only thing holding you and Javier together.
“We’ve gone through this plenty of times before, Jav,” you hand him your daughter’s backpack. “I’ll see you next week.”
He takes the bag, not meeting your eyes again before you get back into your car. You don’t see it, but his eyes don’t leave your car until you’re well down the road. Somehow his soul feeling like a piece of it was being taken away from him.
Biting the inside of his cheek, he turns around to go inside the ranch, the door creaking from overuse. His daughter’s laughter echoes within the walls, filling him with a sense of warmth as he drops her bag on the couch.
She’s sitting at the dining table with Chucho, her art supplies scattered across the table as she colors on a piece of paper.
“Look daddy!” she says once she spots him in the doorway, holding up her drawing.
Javier smiles softly, stepping into the room and dropping down on one knee to take the paper. As he studies it, he feels his throat tightening. It’s a drawing of all four of you standing in front of the ranch, little animals drawn in the background.
Her smile falters for a moment when she sees Javier’s teary eyes, a small frown forming on her face. “Did mama leave already?”
He looks over at her, placing the drawing on the table, and picking her up so he can sit in the chair with her in his lap. “Yeah, mi vida. But she’ll be back next week,” he pauses, pushing her unruly curls back, “She always comes back.”
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she murmurs, “She misses you.”
Javier’s breath stutters, his hand rubbing soothing circles on his daughter’s back. He looks over at his dad, who gives him a sad smile in return.
“I miss her, too,” Javier whispers after a moment.
Around 8PM, Javier takes his bundle of joy to his own house. After the divorce, you ended up moving out and getting your own apartment in town, leaving Javier alone in a big empty house. It would’ve been the house the both of you were going to build your family in, but now it’s just where Javier showers and sleeps.
His daughter is sleeping soundly against him, the day’s activities catching up to her finally. He unlocks the door, carefully holding his girl and her things as he walks through the threshold. Leaving the door open with his foot, he reaches to turn on a small lamp on the entryway table.
He’s left the house untouched since the split, the place still nicely decorated with your touch. The lamp fills the small space with warm light, Javier closing the door with a soft click and locking it. Carefully, he takes his daughter and everything upstairs to her bedroom. He’d worry about giving her a bath in the morning since she’s completely slumped against him right now.
Automatically, she curls up against her teddy bear when he tucks her in, the one that has both yours and his voice in it telling her how much you love her. A long while ago, Javier sprayed a bit of both his cologne and your perfume on it, so in a sense, the both of you were always with her.
He turns on her skylight and white noise machine, and leaves the door open three inches before he heads back downstairs. His feet heavily carry him to the kitchen, his body itching for a glass of whiskey to wash away his sorrows.
It’s not clear when exactly the shift in your relationship happened, but he knows that it went on for far too long before either of you built up the courage to ask for a divorce. It was better to hold onto it rather than face the world without you on his side. He feels like a teenager again, aimlessly wandering the world, and hoping that someone else picks up the pieces he’s left behind.
But dating has been the last thing on his mind. You’re the only person he’s ever given his heart and soul to, and he’s afraid of even thinking about giving it to someone else. Growing up, all he knew was his parents’ love for one another. They had their first everything with each other, and that’s what Javier had with you. He just didn’t know that it also included a first divorce.
Neither of you were perfect–he knew that–but you were perfect for him. If this was the only way to keep you in his life, then so be it. He’ll handle it as best as he can for the sake of your daughter.
The brown liquor stings his throat as it goes down, him automatically pouring another two fingers of whiskey, and downing it in one go. Two glasses was his limit, so he placed the glass in the sink and put the bottle away before plopping onto the couch with a heavy sigh.
He allowed himself to close his eyes momentarily, and dream of how different life could’ve been if the two of you knew how to communicate properly.
“I’m home!” Javier calls out, tossing his keys into the ceramic bowl you demanded to have on the entryway table.
The smell of Fricase de Pollo filling his nostrils before he hears tiny little feet padding on the hardwood floor. “Daddy!” his daughter yells out, popping out from the living room archway.
“Hola, mi amor,” Javier beams, picking her up easily and blowing raspberries on her clothed stomach.
Her giggles fill the house as he walks deeper inside, finding you in the kitchen hovering over the stove. Soft Spanish music plays on the radio, filling him with a sense of contentment.
You glance over your shoulder at your two loves, a soft smile on your face while you take your attention off the food momentarily. “Hi,” you greet him softly, quietly.
He greets you just the same, leaning down to press his lips to yours for a long moment. Just kissing you spreads warmth throughout his body, his mind getting lost in the sensation of your body against his as he deepens the kiss.
“Yuck!”
Only when your daughter makes a comment do you both pull apart, laughing. “What do you mean ‘yuck’?” he feigns offense.
She giggles, wrapping her arms tighter around Javier’s neck. “Kissing is gross,” she scrunches up her face in the most adorable way, shaking her head.
Javier smirks faintly, “Is that what you think?”
Your daughter nods, standing on her opinion.
“Well then,” Javier starts, “I guess you don’t mind if I do this–”
He covers her face in kisses, her giggles growing more obnoxious by the second.
Javier’s phone ringing jolts him out of his thoughts, exhaling slowly before he sits up. Without looking at his phone, he answers. “Hello?”
It’s quiet on the other side of the line for a long moment, and he almost debates hanging up.
“I don’t even know why I’m callin’ you,” you murmur, grabbing Javier’s attention.
“Hey,” he says gently, sitting up straighter. He can hear your tone of voice, it’s that quiet, distant tone you get when you’ve been thinking about something too hard. “You okay?”
He’s not sure if it’s still his place to check up on you, but the question comes out before he really thinks about it.
You huff softly, “Am I okay?” you pause, “I’ve never been okay, Javier.”
“Have you been drinking?” he asks quietly, biting the inside of his cheek.
Chuckling softly, you respond with your free hand up in mock surrender, “You caught me.”
Javier sighs deeply, “Where are you? I’ll come get you.”
“No, I’m fine,” you claim, “You still keep that stupid skylight on for her. Y’know, she’ll never sleep in the dark if you keep doin’ that.”
He furrows his brows at that, his gaze lifting to the curtain covered windows. The small southern accent you suddenly have isn’t lost on him, but he’s more worried about where you are. Slowly, he walks over to the window, peeking out the curtain to find your car sitting idly by the curb.
“How long have you been sitting outside?” he asks as he’s actively making his way to the front door.
“Not that long,” you murmur, watching the front door open.
Just seeing his silhouette causes your heartbeat to pick up a bit, buried feelings starting to rise to the surface. Your emotions were always heightened when you were drunk, and there’s no exception tonight. You hang up the phone, rolling down the passenger's side window.
Javier pockets his own phone, leaning into your car to speak to you. “Do you wanna come in?”
You shake your head slowly, a sluggish smile on your lips. “Just wanted to stop by ‘fore I went home.”
He frowns deeply, reaching in to unlock the doors. You watch, amused as he rounds your car and opens the driver’s side door. He pulls your car keys out of the ignition and unbuckles your seatbelt. “Out.”
“No–”
“Don’t make me drag you inside.”
You huff quietly, grumbling under your breath as you stumble out of the car. Before you walk up to the door, you watch him pocket your car keys. “Can I just–”
“No,” he cuts you off, crowding your space to urge you to move. “Go.”
Reluctantly, you walk towards the front door after staring him down. You guess you’re not as threatening or convincing when you’re drunk, because Javier walks right past you to go to the kitchen. You hear glasses clinking, water running, and then his boots on the hardwood floor as he walks back towards the living room.
“Drink,” he hands you the glass, eyeing you like a hawk.
“I don’t need the one word commands, Javier.” You take small sips of the water, letting the cool liquid put out the fire burning beneath your skin.
He huffs, shaking his head slowly before he turns around. “Unbelievable,” he mutters under his breath, sitting down on the couch.
Silence washes over the two of you. You’re not sure how long you’ve been standing and drinking your water, but Javier’s gaze is elsewhere. Like he can’t even stand the thought of looking at you right now.
You press your lips into a fine line before you down the rest of the glass. “Can I have my keys back?” you ask, holding out your hand.
Javier finally looks at you again, studying your mannerisms to see how drunk you still are. “Why should you get them back?”
“Javier,” you sigh, “you don’t want me here, and I don’t want to be here. So why don’t we just skip the theatrics so I can go home and get some sleep.”
“I can’t keep an eye on you if you go,” he states, earning an eye roll from you.
“Jesus–”
“You’re a mother. You have responsibilities–”
“I know that!” you exclaim, but he keeps going.
“and our daughter expects you to be there 100% of the time. Why the fuck would you go out and get drunk on a weekday?”
“No,” you point at him, “you don’t get to judge me. You coming home with the stench of alcohol on your clothes was constant–”
“Oh, here we go again–”
“No, you let me fucking finish. You had responsibilities when we were together. You disappeared on me the second you saw those two pink lines, and what did I do? I stayed and dealt with your fucking bullshit because you were the only thing that I knew.”
Javier stands, towering over you. “Maybe I shouldn’t have been. I know damn well that you wouldn’t have wanted to see me drunk out of my mind every night.”
“I have loved you since we were 16,” you shake your head slowly, “You don’t think I’ve seen every side of you?”
“I didn’t know what you wanted from me–”
“I wanted you to want me again!” You burst out, sniffling while trying to gain your bearings again, “That’s what I’ve always been trying to fucking tell you.”
“What?” Javier asks, bewildered.
“Do you know what it feels like to not be desired by your husband anymore? After carrying his baby for nine months, only to become a second thought afterwards.” You take a deep breath, barely able to hold the tears threatening to spill over.
“Is that what you think of me?” he asks, almost hesitantly.
“You don’t look at me the same anymore. You look at me like I’m some sort of monster for tearing our family apart—“ you choke back a sob, the tears you were trying so hard to fight finally spilling over.
You turn around, but Javier immediately pulls you back into his chest. The moment he does that, it’s nothing beautiful about your crying anymore. It’s all loud sobs, snot, and coughs as you soak the front of his shirt.
But Javier doesn’t complain. He just holds you protectively. One hand in your hair while the other one rubs soothing circles on your back. Your body shakes with the force of your sobs, your hands clutching desperately at the man you once tried so hard to push away.
He presses his lips against the top of your head, breathing you in but also pressing you closer against his body. Trying to give you as much comfort as possible.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers against your hair, “I’m so fucking sorry, cariño.”
There it is. The name you’ve longed to hear since the divorce. Just hearing it makes you sob harder against him, your breathing getting a little difficult to maintain.
“Breathe, baby,” Javier murmurs, “I’m right here.”
Suddenly, you shove at him, nearly knocking the air from his lungs. “No!”
You weakly swing at him, letting out hushed curses while streams of tears still tumble down your face. “You were never there for me then!”
Javier stands still, letting you get everything out, letting you beat on his chest like a bongo until exhaustion takes over your body again, and you slump against him.
Wrecked sobs still escape you, along with a few hiccups every now and then. He keeps his hand in your hair, his lips pressed against the top of your head, your temple, your forehead–anywhere he can reach to soothe you.
Only when your grip on his shirt weakens does he exhale, feeling your arms wrap around his waist. He doesn’t even think to let you go, only holding you closer, pressing your ear right against his chest so his heartbeat can soothe you.
Immediately, you melt into him. Too casually. Too normal for this to be happening between two exes.
But it feels so right.
Neither of you pull away. Neither of you say anything. He just holds you, protectively – like his life depends on it.
One of you should back away eventually, but Javier can’t find the guts to when you hold him tighter, the exact same way you used to. He strokes your hair gently, murmuring against it, “I’m sorry, cariño. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there. I’m sorry that you think I don’t love you anymore.”
You finally pull back, wiping your face before you glare up at him. He can see the familiar fire beginning to burn behind your eyes again in real time.
“It’s a little too late for sorries now, isn’t it?”
Before Javier can even get another word in, another voice cuts in.
“Mama?”
Both of you look down at your daughter, neither of you even heard her come down the stairs, and she was clutching her teddy bear in her arms.
“Hey, mi amor,” you say gently, kneeling down to speak to her. “What are you still doing up?”
Her little hand comes up to wipe under your eye, “You were crying,” she murmurs.
You smile faintly, wrapping your hand around her wrist to press your lips against it. “I’m fine, honey. I need to speak to your daddy, though. So you need to go back to your room, okay?”
She frowns deeply, looking up at Javier. “Are you guys going to make up?”
Her innocent question nearly crushes your heart, but you somehow manage to keep it together for the time being. “We’re talking, yeah.”
“Abuelo Chucho says that the proper way to make up with our loved ones is to hug and kiss, papá. Did you and mama do that?”
You glance up at Javier, watching him bite the inside of his cheek.
“Did he now?” he quietly asks, earning a nod from your daughter.
“And he said that you and mama will always love each other no matter what.”
You hum in acknowledgement, smiling faintly while you brush her unruly curls back. “Guess I need to have a little chat with Chucho then, huh?”
She crosses her arms over her chest, holding her bear close to her heart. “No!” she suddenly bursts out, “Abuelo is right!”
Javier says her name once, warning her. “Is that any way to speak to your mother?”
She pouts, “I’m sorry. I just don’t like when you guys are fighting.”
And she didn’t even know half of it.
You slowly stand up, Javier watching you intentionally putting distance between the two of you. That alone feels like a stab to the heart. You’re standing so close, and yet, you feel so far away from him. He has to resist the urge to pull you right back into his chest again.
Your daughter looks up at you, anticipation filling her big brown eyes. It’s almost enough to make you give in to her pleading.
“Mi amor,” you say quietly, gently, “your dad and I have a lot to work out–”
“Just one kiss, mama,” she cuts you off, pleading, “Please.”
You exhale slowly, your gaze drifting towards Javier. Just looking at him after everything that’s happened has your heart feeling heavy. Like it’s ready to escape from your chest just to avoid being broken again.
He doesn’t move. Not until he sees or hears you give your consent. When you nod slowly, the both of you close the space between you cautiously. Your daughter watches with bated breath as you and Javier press your lips against one another’s after so long.
It steals all the air from your lungs for a second, then it’s warm and familiar. It almost feels like home.
Javier’s hands come up to cup your face gently, breathing in deep because this might be the very last time the two of you ever do this. He wants to savour it. Keep it locked away in his memories like it’s something sacred.
And to him, it is something sacred.
You’re something sacred.
The love you feel for Javier rises to the surface quickly. Nearly suffocating your heart to the point where it hurts to beat. And yet, you don’t pull back from him.
When Javier’s lips leave yours, you nearly chase them, but he doesn’t go very far as he presses his forehead to yours. Your breathing is in sync. Both of you breathing heavily while the feelings settle–or try to, at least.
Even your daughter is eerily quiet. Maybe she’s smiling, you don’t know, but when Javier opens his mouth to speak, you almost smile.
“If you’ll have me,” he whispers, “I’ll do better, I promise. I miss you, cariño, and I want to fix things. I want to go back to the way that we were.”
