Javier Peña Narcos - Blog Posts

I’m sorry for not posting for 3 weeks here’s javier in a pink shirt

𝙥𝙚𝙙𝙧𝙤 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙮𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙨 :)

din: “𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘢𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥.” - mirrors by justin timberlake

javier: “𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵.” - getaway car by taylor swift

joel: “𝘙𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱. 𝘎𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘩, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯. 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.” - right where you left me by taylor swift

javi: “𝘐 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴, 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘨, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦.” - miss americana and the heartbreak prince by taylor swift

whiskey: “𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘐’𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶.” - if this was a movie by taylor swift

he is so getaway car and don’t blame me coded

desperately in need of a brown eyed mustached agent named javier

What Happened to Belen?

Thank you to @auteurdelabre for our beautiful coloring book! I so enjoyed reading Pedro Pascal's book recommendation "What Happened to Belen?" and found it particularly insightful. For those of us Joel girls in mourning I wrote a pivot fiction for Pena you might check out at Pedge's Bookshop! Pair it with Pena's Playlist for the full Narcos experience :)

“Two days from now will be the first anniversary of the date I effectively regained my freedom. How will I ever forget the day I set foot on the street again, with my angels! How will I ever forget how much they helped me! How will I ever forget all the women who spent hours waiting to welcome me outside! How will I forget my fellow inmates, police guards and the night we said goodbye! How will I ever forget my family, who was anxiously waiting for me! How will I ever forget that day! Everyone awaited my return after two and half years of unjust imprisonment. How will I ever forget that was the day…I WAS REBORN! How will I ever forget the day one of my angels put a pencil to paper and wrote down the words I couldn’t speak! A year after my release I can only give thanks to God and my angels. Who is it that said we don’t have angels? I can testify today that they exist. How will I ever forget that amidst all the anxiety and distress my angels were there with me, holding my hand and listening. I am eternally grateful. Thank you! Thanks to every woman and every organization, to the women’s movements and to all the people who did their part to help me, who put on their “Freedom For Belen” T-shirts and went into the street to fight for my freedom.”

"What Happened to Belen" is written by Ana Elena Correa

@littlemisspascal  @lizette50 @beefrobeefcal @sawymredfox @anelva @wordywarriorwrites @burntheedges @inept-the-magnificent @timelordfreya  @schnarfer @devineconjuring @mermaidgirl30 @galaxyedging @joelalorian @joelmillerisapunk @jennaispunk @sheepdogchick3 @marcus-is-my-muse @guiltyasdave  @copperhalfcent @bluesweaters15 @drewharrisonwriter @darkheartgatita @harriedandharassed @brittmb115 @confusedpuffin @yorksgirl @quicax3 @shaunasflannel @shinyanchorobject

What Happened to Belen? Part Two

Grab a Latte! Don't forget to check out Ana's Archive! The largest open library in human history, with millions of books and papers preserved forever!

Triggers: profanity, pornography, smoking, attempts at Spanish, contemporary canon for "Narcos" character, fainting, discussions of the book "What Happened to Belen" which involve topics of abortion, miscarriage, homicide, women's rights, medical malpractice, judicial injustice, menstruation, harassment etc...

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Words: 5k

“Take it outside” you muttered, standing quickly….too quickly, and nearly tripping over the base of the counter at your feet. Everything was so blindingly bright. Stars were beginning to enter your periphery once again, if you could just get some more Advil….Your thoughts started to slog slowly forward, as though on a malfunctioning assembly line, with your feet dragging haphazardly behind them.

“Maybe you should sit back down, hermosa…” Pena began, circling the counter to meet you. “Just get that out of my face!” you pushed your hand against Pena’s perspiration dotted chest, as a high pitched ringing sound drifted into your mind scape. What was happening? You couldn’t think straight, couldn’t see straight. “Hermosa, you’re white as a sheet” but Pena’s voice was nearly inaudible as you focused tightly on the mustache decorating his plump lips. They were moving slowly, SO slowly before the power went out, leaving everything pitch black and sedate....

“Hot as hell out there, hermosa” he huffed, coughing slightly and rushing to help you with the stack of books. “So perhaps you can now tell me, what DID happen to Belen?”…he jested, the smell of nicotine tickling your nose pungently. Your stomach lurched slightly at the fragrance sensitivity. This Advil didn’t seem to be doing much, and your hormones were still raging out of control. You swallowed hard to down the rising bile in your throat, wondering if you wanted to slap Pena across the face or the ass first. “Perhaps I have overstayed my welcome, hermosa?” a concerned look crossed his face as he gauged your unknowable expression. 

“No, not at all!” you rallied, wiping the sweat from your brow and attempting to regroup. Pena had been nothing but conciliatory; it was your body you seemed to be at war with. 

“Let’s put you to work, agent…” you teased, motioning to the display case and putting your apron back on. “One of my favorite parts of the book is the description of the many women and organizations that rallied for Belen’s aid” you encouraged, returning with your book to the display counter and starting to judiciously display your books of choice.

“Excellent” Pena quipped, taking a step back to admire your burgeoning handiwork.

“At first, the word ‘abortion’ wasn’t even used in legal contexts. It couldn’t be written. What isn’t written does not exist. When in doubt, they used the word ‘homicide’. This didn’t happen all that long ago. In 2016 when Belen’s case first came to light, omitting the existence of abortions was part of the lexicon. But with the inclusion of women’s rights groups like the National Campaign for Abortion, representatives from Pan y Rosas, CLADEM and empathetic journalists, Belen’s story started to gain a voice”.

Pena picked up the book and read from the back cover, “Freedom for Belen! Sex ed so we can decide! Contraceptives avoid abortions! Legalize abortion! Save lives!”. 

You gingerly kneeled down, stacking the books aesthetically, hopeful it might grab some attention. “You know, in Argentina, as in many places the world over, you have to make noise outside the country so that people at home will hear about it. A woman’s failure to choose motherhood, whatever the reason, instantly makes her a criminal. Women must reassert the right to say no to something unwanted, whether it’s a partner, a pregnancy, sex or a traditional way of life. They must reassert the right to say no to the social mandates of submission and obedience. And saying no to these things means saying yes to our bodies, our emotional lives, our sexuality, to our participation in society, work, politics and everywhere else” you wiped your hands on your apron admiring your work.

“Well done, hermosa” Pena observed, reading the rest of the book cover, “Belen, you’re not alone. Chin up, Belen we’re with you. We’re fighting for you and for women who’ve been unjustly incarcerated all over the world.” Pena paused to reflect momentarily. “I’m…embarrassed I didn’t know more…” he massaged the back of his neck awkwardly. “This isn’t just about women’s rights. It’s about justice, and I know a thing or two about that…” he placated.

You stood quickly and immediately realized your mistake as bright orbs of crackling energy drifted into your periphery and the smell of iron tickled your nose. Pena was at your side in an instant, hand lightly fixed at your waist, as you swayed unsteadily.  “Hermosa?” his voice seemed to be coming from quite a distance away, as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath through your nose. “S-sorry, s-stood up too fast!” you deflected, leaning against him securely for a millisecond before returning to the counter, shaking your head from side to side. It WAS hot in here, and you were more embarrassed then ever at your momentary lapse. Menstruation was SUCH a drag, but you didn’t want to let on about your recent diagnosis. As if womanhood didn’t feel debilitating enough, you had already experienced years of struggle with endometriosis and were newly considering a hysterectomy. You didn’t find yourself in Belen’s position, but it wasn’t hard to imagine the helplessness she might have felt, judged by the medical community, government, society at large…and maybe even…herself. This was a piece of information you were determined to keep clandestine. Javier Pena’s eyes swam before you as his image coalesced into focus. “Did you hear me?” he gently asked again.

“Uh…sure….yes!” you piped up, immediately unsure of your response. He nodded curtly bringing you a stool and placing it behind the counter for your respite. “Perhaps my endless questions have needlessly exhausted you”. Your cheeks reddened with the heat AND embarrassment as you chastised yourself for existing. “I’m fine…just overheated is all” you huffed as Pena cleared his throat and sat back down across from you. 

“So, what happened to Belen? How did she find redemption in such a storm of injustice?” he asked.

You sighed heavily, retrieving your book and flipping through the pages. “Well, at first she had to survive in the prison system. Family visits, challenging circumstances, holidays…This was an environment she had never been in before…”. You read, 

“I kept walking around the prison and talking to women who were there for reasons unknown to me. I realized some are doing time for murder and others for stealing, and that many are inside because they covered for a partner or family member. Soledad told Belen about a young woman called Maria Magdalena. The doctors who treated her at the hospital accused her of having an abortion. And that’s not right. medical staff have a duty of care”.

Pena dragged his thumb across his bottom lip pensively, starting to bite at the cuticles. “Seems like it all happened so fast. One minute she was living her life, the next…” his voice trailed off reflexively.

“There was no DNA evidence. The report mentioned more than one fetus, and none of them were preserved. There were no records showing Belen’s admission even. There is no evidence, there is simply none. The doctors who accused her were still living their lives. The men who convicted her continued like nothing happened.”

“And I’m still in here” Belen says. All I’m asking is for them to reevaluate the case. They don’t know what it’s like waking up in the same place every day, being away from your family ever day. They’re in their homes. They don’t know what it’s like to have to file a request just to see a friend. The judges are in their chambers, smoking, drinking coffee. And they have to live with the fact that they sentenced me to this place. What happened to me happened because I couldn’t get 20,000 pesos in less than forty eight hours. If I’d had the money, I could’ve defended myself. But I thought, why should I have to pay money when I did nothing wrong? Worse still, they tried to pass off a miscarriage as a murder, seemingly for political gain. ”

Pena had run out of words, reaching into his back pocket for another cigarette and rolling it between his fingers.

“In our society, when people wan to hide something, they find someone to blame. They point their fingers at those who can’t defend themselves, and they accuse them. They don’t listen to them. These people become guilty because of their faces, their clothes, because they’re poor or because they’re women.”

“Luckily, Soledad began to identify the discrepancies at Belen’s first trial, 

“The doctor has a legal obligation to maintain confidentiality unless expressly told otherwise by the patient. The patent’s silence can in no way be seen to provide a valid ad rational motive to breach the physician’s duty to professional confidentiality. All the evidence adduced in Belen’s case should have been inadmissible. The physician’s and midwives’ testimonies were in themselves a crime. She was convicted without valid evidence. In addition, no one can be compelled to testify against himself. It is a cruel, latent and ignoble violation of this precept to use the distress of a women who had an abortion to report her crime, whether wrenched via exploited confession or duress through a state of physical and spiritual helplessness. Moreover, public interest cannot justify so inhuman a dilemma; prison or death.”

“Finally, some common sense!” Pena exclaimed, dangling the cigarette in his mouth and immediately removing it under your scolding stare. “Lo siento, hermosa, continue por favor…” he returned to delicately fingering the unused smoke.

“At the time, Belen did not know she was pregnant, nor did she look pregnant. She never stopped menstruating and felt no movement in her belly, her body was normal and her breasts hadn’t grown. She and her mother went to the emergency room for the abdominal pain. A person who wants to commit homicide—a person who knows they’re going to have a baby and is determined to cause their death simply doesn’t go to a hospital”

“Obviously!” Pena retorted, grabbing for his lighter and subsequently tossing it on the counter impotently. 

You shook your head reprimandingly, “It was nearly two years of waiting and resolving before Belen had her second day in court, facing her original sentence, this time with Soledad at her side. Belen recounts, 

“First of all, I’d like to say I didn’t know I was pregnant, so you can’t tell me that I committed the atrocity that I’m being accused of. How can you say I cut the umbilical cord? Where is the DNA evidence that proves the discovered fetus of 36 weeks was mine? They gave me an intravenous sedative and when I awoke, I was covered in blood and police officers were examining my private parts. No one looked after me, before treating me like I was a murderer…”

These trials end up being more moral than legal, ironically enough as God is said to serve in the capital. The morning in court when the judges read her the grounds for her conviction, Belen cries again. Unlike the day her verdict was read the courthouse i packed because now people in Tucuman know what is happening. “Calm down, no one can see you anymore” a prison guard encourages. Now raise your head and look outside. All these people are here for you”. Belen sits up, at first fearfully. Finally, Belen relaxes. she cries, but this it’s different”. 

“Some of us can raise our voices and have the privilege of health care access. Others can afford to become mothers. Others experience the same troubles Belen did but are less formatted because their cases aren’t talked about, and so they are still in prison. Then there are others who aren’t here to tell their stories today, because they died trying, during miscarriage. This issue moves me. A great deal. I still don’t understand how it is that in the 21st century we women still have to relinquish our independence and our freedom to a society that imposes its way of life on us. Why do we have to be the talk of the town? Why do we have to air our most private decisions?”.

Pena gulped in silence, possibly reflecting on his own private decisions, playing with the lighter in front of him. You grabbed a tissue from your apron and wiped your brow profusely. The AC had been broken all week, but it was supposed to be getting cooler, not hotter. The words of the book began to blur and dance in front of you, as you put a wearied hand over your eyes.  “What time does your shift end?” Pena asked, already aware of how propositional his question sounded, but your countenance was pale and blanched as compared to the start of the day. Something was obviously wrong, but he didn’t want to leave you alone in whatever plight you found yourself. 

Unhearing, you sallied forth. “Where was I?” you blinked, squinting at the book with determination. “Eventually she has her day in court, and things start to change slowly but surely.

“Belen starts to receive support from everyone around her at the correctional facility, online and even abroad, The organizations put together an online campaign to denounce the press’ persecution of Belen and call for people to leave her alone. The campaign consisted of people taking selfies with a sign that says are you looking for Belen? I’m Belen. Men and women of all ages, some angry, others amused, some bearded, others very young, hold the same sign and post it online with a caption—‘They’re trying to infringe on her privacy, to see her face. But what they don’t realize is that Belen isn’t just one person. She thousands! Belen is all of us!’”

Pena leaned back against the stool beaming momentarily, before absentmindedly lighting the cigarette in front of him and taking a deep drag. “Victory” he puffed before viewing your incredulous face. His expression immediately fell with chagrin, considering how to snub out the cigarette, whilst desperately inhaling. “Lo siento, hermosa” he mumbled into the cigarette, possibly trying to inhale it in one draft. He looked towards the front door, considering an ill-timed exit before taking in your pained look. The fragrant aroma of the cigarette usually would have been fine, but your head was pounding and your abdomen was irritatingly alight with menstrual cramps and distress.

“Take it outside” you muttered, standing quickly….too quickly, and nearly tripping over the base of the counter at your feet. Everything was so blindingly bright. Stars were beginning to enter your periphery once again, if you could just get some more Advil….Your thoughts started to slog slowly forward, as though on a malfunctioning assembly line, with your feet dragging haphazardly behind them.

“Maybe you should sit back down, hermosa…” Pena began, circling the counter to meet you.

“Just get that out of my face!” you pushed your hand against Pena’s perspiration dotted chest, as a high pitched ringing sound drifted into your mind scape. Oh shit, what was happening? You couldn’t think straight, couldn’t see straight.

“Hermosa, you’re white as a sheet” but Pena’s voice was nearly inaudible as you focused tightly on the mustache decorating his plump lips. They were moving slowly, SO slowly before the power went out, leaving everything pitch black and sedate.

This was the WORST mattress you had ever been on, including the taut pillows. It felt hard as a rock. To say nothing of the nicotine infused fragrance of whatever hotel room you found yourself in. Your eyes blinked open hazily, taking in your surroundings. Why did this hotel room look exactly like a Barnes and Nobles?

“There she is” Pena’s voice was amplified to that of a megaphone as the tingling sensation in your arms and legs started to dissipate. You squinted up into the bright lights of the ceiling as Pena’s concerned expression drifted into your line of sight. You licked your lips to say something, but your mouth was as dry as cotton. Were you on the floor?

“Power outage?” you heard your voice rasp quietly, attempting to take stock of the situation.

“I guess you could say that” Pena chuckled softly, running a hand across your forehead. Oh my God, did you have your head on his thigh? You tried to sit up, but felt as heavy as an anvil, as he placed a hand behind your neck. “You sort of had a personal power outage, before fainting into my arms, hermosa” he smiled. “Had me worried, I nearly called the police”. You sank back down against his lap for a second, waiting for the disorientation to pass. “I’m a total ass, no more cigarettes this time, I promise” he apologized, placing a heavy hand on your forehead appraisingly before shrugging with helplessness. “This seemed preferable to books for pillows” he chuckled, the tinge of worry in his voice evident.

“Well this is embarrassing” you finally smirked, focused on breathing deeply and bringing your knees up slightly underneath you.

“Mierda…” he encouraged, leaning against the wall and finally relaxing. “It is your time of the month, no?”. You froze with apprehension at the intimacy of his observation, but quickly relaxed against his thigh once again.

“Guilty as charged” your cheeks blushed with a crimson hue. This had to be the strangest work day in the history of employment. You found yourself surprisingly grateful that you weren’t alone.

“You’re not the first woman I’ve made faint” Pena tried to tease as you scoffed good-naturedly. You took a look around at the smattering of books littering the floor. “You managed to bring down half the display case with you however” he noted, straining to reach for the copy of “What Happened to Belen” before settling back against the wall. You both sat in silence for a minute or two, thankful that no customers were entering the bookshop, as Pena thumbed through the book introspectively. You were surprised at the tenderness in his voice as he started to read Belen’s words to her supporters, 

“Greetings to all the women, to the warriors, and to everyone who’s stood by me until now. I want to thank you for making my fight your own. Thank you for standing up for me, for making sure my voice and truth were heard. I was silent for two years. I couldn’t bring myself to talk. I was scared. They told me I would get life. They convicted me on hearsay alone, for being poor, for going to a public hospital, for not having the money to to a private clinic and hire a good lawyer. I haven’t been home or seen my family March 21st, 2014. They robbed me of so much. All I wanted was help and instead I was detained, surrounded by police officers and accusatory fingers. Two years and three months away form home. They took away my life! Did any of them wonder how I felt that night? They accused me and asked if I’d induced an abortion. My mother was mistreated, too. No one cared about me. She’s ignorant, she doesn’t know anything, they probably told themselves. Even though I said I hadn’t done anything, that I hadn’t killed anyone. I didn’t even know I was pregnant. I cry because of the injustice I’m experiencing. But I’m also calm, because I know I will get justice. I am stronger now, calmer. I never hurt anyone, never stole, never killed, I don’ know drugs. I’ve worked my whole life. I always did everything I was supposed to. I will forever be grateful to every who’s helped my voice be heard. I’m sending you all my love. It makes me so happy not be alone. Thank you and thank you again to all you women. Let us all fight and be heard so that no woman is imprisoned for abortion again. ow your struggle is my struggle, too”.

Pena’s soft baritone voice hummed quietly as you heard the dull traffic sounds outside. Dusk was starting to descend as you looked up into his face. You could have sworn you saw the smallest of tears glistening at the corner of his eye before he brushed it away, clearing his throat.

“Can you stand, hermosa?” he asked, sitting upright, your head still atop his lap.

“Let’s find out” you parried, his solid hand easing you forward and massaging the back of your neck deftly. A small moan escaped your lips as you tucked your legs beneath you.

“Long day” Pena observed, allowing his hand to drift to your back in slow, methodical circles. “Is this okay, hermosa?” 

“More than okay” you realized, scratching at scalp and smiling tiredly. This work day had proven unexpectedly enjoyable, amidst an obstacle course of challenge. You leaned back towards him with a slightly dopey expression. “Thanks for your help, Pena”.

“We aim to please” the corner of Pena’s mouth drifted upwards, as he carefully stood to his feet, offering his hand once again in support. You felt a bit like Bambi at first, getting your legs beneath you and holding on to Pena’s steely grasp. Closing your eyes for clarity, you breathed in his warm fragrance of nicotine, cologne and sweat as Pena watched you intently.

“Nearly done with our story” you whispered, locking eyes with him and finally noticing his hand at your waist, moving in soothing circles.

“I almost don’t want it to end” he replied, licking his lips attentively. You looked towards the clock once again. What had started as a day of doldrums had nearly evaporated before you. One more hour before your shift was over. “Sit back down while I clear things up” he offered, setting you back on the stool definitively and collecting the books at your feet.

“I guess I can be grateful today that we didn’t defund the police” you tried to joke, but caught Pena’s apologetic visage.

“This story is a travesty” he grumbled, collecting the books and handing you the literature of the hour. “I’m as imperfect as the next man, but I joined the DEA to make a difference. Belen’s story is…an embarrassment. I wish I knew how to help”. He set the last of the books on the counter and leaned against it with dejection.

“It’s not all bad” you sighed, uncharacteristically reaching up to cup his face in the palm of your hand, and running a thumb against his five o’clock shadow. Pena’s eyes took on a new sheen of redemption as he took your hand in his. “Tell me” he agreed as you referenced the book once again.

“Finally after nearly three years, Belen is released from prison. She can now begin the long process of championing her government to make the necessary changes, 

“The warden insists before her release, ‘You need to understand that you’re not a criminal. You have no reason to hide.” In the evening the cellblock breaks into song and applause. The sounds travel over the wall and infect the women who have been waiting outside since morning. The activists from the  organizations form two lines to shield Belen from the cameras. They wear masks of white and green, but their expressions are the same; rigid, stern faces and masks featuring the words, “We are Belen”. Belen steps onto the street watching balloons float high in the sky. “This must be a dream” she wonders, but after two years, four months and twenty three days in prison, Belen gets back some of her freedom”.

Pena smiled, placing his hands on his hips defiantly, “Todo va bien”. He was looking resolutely at the ground and nodding definitively. 

“Justice for all” you agreed, feeling tears spring to your eyes at the end of a long day. Stupid hormones. “Thanks to events like ‘Green Action Day’ and the printing of this book, Belen’s government begins the arduous process of lawmaking, and she remains timidly at the forefront.

“It is difficult to conceive of a sphere more ‘private’ than an individual’s own body. The right of individuals to prevent others from invading or interfering with that body is an essential component of a private life, where personal autonomy is paramount…as listed in the Constitution.” The prospects might seem tenuous, but Belen’s case was gaining more and more steam. The majority of women were in favor of legalizing abortion, while a majority of men were against it. Belen says, 

“It’s been three years since I was released, and I feel enormously happy and grateful to everyone who helped me through the most difficult time of my life. Today, I am firm in my decision. I’m not the weak woman I was bak then, broken by a patriarchy that, 6 years ago, sentence me to 8 years in prison for a crime I didn’t commit. Now I am a strong woman pumping her arms in the air and calling for an end to the unjust imprisonment of women for abortions. It’s been three years since I was released and I am here, yelling at the top of my lungs; we can do it girls, the patriarch will fall!”

“Freedom fighter indeed” Pena observed, slamming a soft fist against the counter definitively. “It can’t be easy though…reclaiming her life after….everything….”

The fatigue was starting to catch up with you as you searched the book for your notes. “You’re right, the road to redemption is rarely an easy one” you acquiesced.

“She’s been having panic attacks. Then second she walks out of the house, she start shaking and feeling faint. Her heart races. She has regular fits of crying and rage. “It was like my body was still in prison, like it couldn’t get used to me being free. They told me to try therapy, but I could’t make it to the offices, because I got dizzy every time i tried to leave the house. My family helped me with that. And when I got frustrated they would be there to tell me everything was going to be alright. ‘You got out of prison, there’s no way you can’t get out of the house. Sometimes I wake up at night screaming “No, don’t take me! I didn’t do anything wrong!” When the Supreme Court finally issued the decision to exonerate she looks in the mirror and utters the words she would like to say to the whole world. Didn’t I tell you I was innocent?

Belen hasn’t been to a hospital in three years. She still has nightmares of physicians and police officers storming into the operating room. She still feels scared because of how she was treated that night, long ago. Yet she isn’t a fearful person. “One day I’ll probably have to tell people who I am, but I’m taking it slow for now”.

You took a deep breath, smiling at Pena in repose. “Belen has done so much to change the landscape of this discussion, not just in Argentina, but internationally as well. To know that there are other women, facing great struggle, but using their voices to take a stand…” you felt the emotion of the moment swirling within you, but decided to press on… “I know I already live such a privileged life, but you wouldn’t believe…”. Your voice cracked as it bent under the weight of recent challenge and a lump crept into your throat tightly. Pena grabbed your elbow firmly in solidarity.

“Steady, hermosa” he cautioned, stroking higher up to your shoulder with encouragement.

“It’s okay, I mean you’ve already seen me at my worst…Or my most unconscious!” a sound escaped from your lips somewhere between a cry and laugh as your body trembled in place. “The author even talks about the liberation of the women’s rights movement as it relates to women in the workplace. We’re no longer required to hide our sobs in the company bathroom” a big, fat tear rolled down your cheek as Pena lightly brushed it away. 

“Fine by me” he whispered. “We all must bear the weight of our burdens, but this isn’t something you have to carry alone”. Your eyes widened with realization at his beautifully articulated point. He was right. In as much as it is our responsibility to articulate the challenge, it is our continued privilege to accept the support. You sniffled quietly as Pena gazed up at the clock knowingly.

“Looks like I’m your only customer for today” he observed softly, turning towards you and pulling you in for a tentative hug. You were about to protest before reconciling to the desire, wrapping your arms lightly around his waist, and trembling in his grasp.

“I wouldn’t have thought you so eloquent when we first met” you mumbled into his shirt, relaxing against his solid frame. Pena rested his head quietly atop yours, swaying a bit from side to side.

“I keep telling everyone that I read Playboy primarily for the articles…” he teased, pulling back to gaze at you pensively. “Time to close up shop” he brushed a few stray tears from your face once again before kissing you lightly on the forehead. The surprise that registered on your face seemed to delight him as he headed to the front door. Turning the sign to the the “CLOSED” position he caught a straggler that was approaching from the sidewalk. “I’m sorry we’re closed for the night!” he shouted through the window as they dejectedly shrugged their shoulders and walked away. He turned back to you gesturing apologetically as you giggled from the counter.

Pena helped you tidy up a bit before you headed back to the locker room to discard your apron and grab your things. Holding the book lovingly in your hands you met him in the foyer before exiting. “I don’t know how to ask this without sounding somewhat brazen…” Pena actually looked embarrassed, rubbing his hand at the back of his neck awkwardly. “But…could I see you home?” he finally confessed, his eyes a deep brown of sincerity. “Just…to make sure you’re okay…or…” he tripped haltingly over his words. It was a strange dichotomy to see such a confident man, momentarily unravelling.

“I’d like that” you smiled tiredly, taking his hand in yours and locking up the bookshop. His hand swung easily in your grasp as you headed to his car.

“So, what finally happened to Belen? Did she get the freedom she so richly deserved?” Pena asked, opening the car door for you and seating you inside. 

“See for yourself”. You opened the book to the final chapter, referencing your favorite part;

“I woke up to a message that the Chamber of Deputies had approved the bill, legalizing abortion. I think it’ll become law because women’s suffering is finally out in the open. I learned to fight, little by little and from the bottom. Even though things weren’t easy for me when I moved to Buenos Aires, I began rebuilding my life from scratch, she told the journalist who interviewed her. I never imaged I’d be unjustly imprisoned for there years, for doing nothing, But wounds heal.”

“Two days from now will be the first anniversary of the date I effectively regained my freedom. How will I ever forget the day I set foot on the street again, with my angels! How will I ever forget how much they helped me! How will I ever forget all the women who spent hours waiting to welcome me outside! How will I forget my fellow inmates and the prison guards and the night we said goodbye! How will I ever forget my family, who was anxiously waiting for me! How will I ever forget that day! Everyone awaited my return after two and half years of unjust imprisonment. How will I ever forget that was the day…I WAS REBORN! How will I ever forget the day one of my angels put a pencil to paper and wrote down the words I couldn’t speak! A year after my release I can only give thanks to God and my angels. Who is it that said we don’t have angels? I can testify today that they exist. How will I ever forget that amidst all the anxiety and distress my angels were there with me, holding my hand and listening. I am eternally grateful. Thank you! Thanks to every woman and every organization, to the women’s movements and to all the people who did their part to help me, who put on their “Freedom For Belen” T-shirts and went into the street to fight for my freedom.”

“Excelente” Pena observed, starting the car and turning towards you. “Alright, hermosa, show me the way home” he smiled, tucking a stray hair behind your ear tenderly.

As the author states at the beginning of the book, “There are many people hiding stories we aren’t always prepared to hear.” But after spending the afternoon with Agent Pena and remembering the value of your own unique narrative, you at least were sure this was a story you wouldn’t soon forget.

What Happened to Belen? Part One

Grab a Latte! thanks @timelordfreya for this fun game to "Read Your Color". Enjoy a treat before heading into the Bookshop...

Triggers: profanity, pornography, smoking, attempts at Spanish, contemporary canon for "Narcos" character, Catholicism, discussions of the book "What Happened to Belen" which involve topics of abortion, miscarriage, homicide, women's rights, medical malpractice, judicial injustice, menstruation, harassment etc...

Series Masterlist

Words: 5k

This workday was taking forever.

You looked up at the clock for the umpteenth time on this lazy Wednesday. After several hours, the second hand had moved…5 minutes forward. You rolled your eyes with irritation. It didn’t help that you were on your period. You shifted behind the counter awkwardly, the summer heat already starting to drag across your perspiring skin. If it was already this hot at 11am, you could only imagine what the rest of today would hold. At least you had a good book to keep you company. Taking another perfunctory glance around the bookstore, you floated somewhere between annoyance and gratitude, thankful that more customers weren’t gracing your local Barnes and Nobles. You couldn’t complain. The pay was decent, and you had wanted to be close to your first love; books. Here you were, getting paid to read, drink coffee and mind the bookstore, even on this deplorably hot Wednesday….

The front bell rang abruptly as a customer entered the bookshop, just out of your peripheral sight. Shit. You chastised yourself for your bristling attitude. Were you here to work or not? You smiled with self-deprecation, setting down the book of the hour “What Happened to Belen”, by Ana Elea Correa. You were just PMSing, and already anxious to get back to your re-read of the thought provoking piece about the Women’s Rights Movement. Tucking the book behind the counter, you tightened the strings on your Barnes and Nobles apron and sauntered towards the front with curiosity. 

The newfound customer had already disappeared in the annals of the bookshop, so you took a precursory lap around the store, looking for dust mites and books out of place when you spotted the bright pink, silky top stretched across the broadest shoulders you had ever seen. He had his back to you, a pert ass nearly screaming to be pinched, a thin line of perspiration dotting through the flimsy fabric in a straight line down his spine. Hello hormones. Sometimes you really hated being a girl. You noticed the wallet sized protrusion in his back pocket, wondering if his front seam demonstrated a similar bulge. Not wanting to add the description of “lasciviously horny” to your resume, you cleared your throat tentatively to indicate your presence. The statuesque stranger remained undeterred, much like his jeans which were fitted tightly to his tall and lanky stature. Jerk. You neared his stoic posture, raising your eyebrows in judgement at the Playboy Magazine that was held delicately between his fingers. Good hands. Jesus. Get a grip, woman. You noticed a small twitch in his Burt Lancaster like mustache, as he shifted his weight with irritation.

“Can I help you with something, sir?” the sarcasm seemed to drip off of your tongue unintentionally, as you caught a wry smile flash across his countenance before returning to an icy cold demeanor.  The stranger grunted in acknowledgment, without removing his fixed stare from the centerfold, his tongue darting out surreptitiously, tinged with lust.

“We have a new section that favors Pulitzer Prize winners” your tone had all the syrup of a honeyed practice, but you were inwardly shocked at your bravado. What the hell were you doing? You didn’t know this guy from Adam, and here you were alone in a bookstore, baiting a complete stranger? The already stolid man seemed to momentarily freeze before casting a sideways glance in your direction as his pupils widened and re-focused. He turned his body towards yours, almost defiantly.

“What do you think, hermosa?” he seemed to taunt, turning the pages of the Playboy towards you as a buxom blonde nearly slapped you across the face with her breasts. “Do you think she reads Nobel Laureates?”. Your face reddened with embarrassment, though stubbornly refusing to back down. 

“Maybe…” you whispered, his face softening ever so slightly in response. The shift was incremental, but noted nonetheless. “You can’t always judge a book by its cover”, the words fell out of your mouth sloppily, but with sincerity nonetheless. He stood up slightly taller, considering your words and looking at the magazine centerfold once again. “Too true, hermosa, too true” he seemed to acquiesce. closing the magazine definitively and looking at you with a new appraisal. “What are YOU reading?” he pointedly asked, allowing his eyes to meander over the totality of your body, as though still looking at the magazine contents. You shifted with an annoying arousal that you couldn’t quite shake, noticing the buttons of his shirt dangling precariously open revealing a sun-kissed, tanned torso. Stupid PMS.

“Uh…” your brain stalled like a sputtering car as he smiled sweetly at your unravelling manner.

“Pena” he held his hand out, wiping it deftly across the backside of his jeans and extending it forwards into your halting grasp. “Javier Pena” he matter-a-factly stated, his Adam’s apple bobbing strongly in his throat as a small trickle of sweat cascaded down his sternum. Holy hell. It must be hotter in here than you realized.

“Oh you wouldn’t like me” your eyes widened with horror as he ticked his head to the side curiously. “The BOOK, you wouldn’t like the book…” you rallied, stepping back and nearly falling over, but for his steely grasp that was not releasing.

“Easy now” he teased, reaching into his back pocket and soon displaying a shiny metallic badge with the large letters of DEA printed across the front. “Your secret is safe with me” he lowly intoned, dangerously winking in your direction as you felt a new bout of crimson feather across your face. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your…reading…uh, officer?” you blurted out, apparently unable to string two sentences together with a flashlight as he kept shaking your hand slowly and maintaining eye contact.

“S’okay” he offered, gently releasing your hand and placing his on his hips mischievously. Who was this guy? “M’not on patrol or anything, just looking for a good read and a quick lunch. What’dya recommend, hermosa?” his tongue dragged across his lips seductively as he looked you up and down once again. 

Were you hallucinating? Geez, hormones were a drag. “Uhhhh…” your mind seemed to short circuit once again, as though on auto-pilot. “What Happened to Belen?” your voice floated out of your body and hovered above you both tentatively.

“I don’t know, what DID happen to Belen?” he quirked, one eyebrow skyrocketing upwards. “Is this a joke I should know?” he scoffed, straightening the magazine on the rack as you nearly scurried back to the front counter.

“Oh it’s just a book I’m reading about Women’s Rights!” you called over your shoulder, desperate to regain some composure, and hastening back to your isolated perch by the cash register. Safe. His intimidating stature came tentatively lumbering around the corner, as though placating a frightened animal. “I like women” he smiled drolly, nodding at the book in your hands as you looked around the shop haphazardly. I mean, he seemed to be an officer of the law. Other than your own adolescent insecurities, what were you so jittery about?

“I recognize the name from the news, but I don’t know much about this woman, Belen. What was she, some sort of freedom fighter?” he questioned, leaning broadly against the counter and sinking his weight against it. You somehow felt protected and caged in, whilst not entirely disgruntled about it.

“Maybe an accidental one?” you observed, leafing through your copy thoughtfully. “She found herself at the epicenter of the Argentinian discussion of abortion rights, after she was unjustly jailed following a miscarriage. Huh. Miscarriage of justice indeed” you muttered under your breath, watching Pena’s eyebrows furrow in consternation.

“Bullshit” he muttered, his eyes squinting into skeptical lines of incredulity.

Your breath hitched in your throat hesitantly. It sounded nearly implausible on the surface, as you back-pedaled quickly, “Well, like I said, it’s probably not for everyone, and we have some other books along the same themes. There’s ‘A Room of One’s Own’ by Virginia Woolf. Or even ‘Good Night Stories for Rebel Girls’” you started to slide the book behind the counter before Pena’s heavy hand layered on top of yours cautiously, locking eyes with you fixedly.

“More” he stated bluntly, holding your gaze determinedly with his. “Tell me more”.

You swallowed dryly re-opening the book hesitantly. “Well, it’s not surprising that you haven’t heard as much about her. She prefers to remain relatively anonymous, and most people don’t even know what she looks like. But the international ramifications of her story go far beyond Argentina. It triggered international discussions about poverty, women’s rights, abortion, misogyny and much more…” your voice trailed off insecurely, hoping that the DEA agent wasn’t harboring a chip on his shoulder. “There’s a documentary, too” you finished, humiliated at how small your voice had become. Geez, even feminism at the local Barnes and Nobles wasn’t easy. Pena seemed to sense your hesitancy, drawing back from the counter tentatively and looking off into the distance.

“The system is fucked up” he mumbled, kicking the base of the wooden counter and planting his hands once again on his hips defiantly. “Don’t have to tell me, hermosa. I battle the powers that be every damn day of my life. Money, drugs, death. It’s all a fucking nightmare” his words hung in the air heavily, like the humidity that threatened to oppress everything around it. He nodded curtly, drawing a nearby stool up to the counter and planting himself in front of it like a hungry schoolboy. “So, what actually happened to her?”. A momentary image of an interrogation room flitted across your mind, as you wondered how it would be to have this man opposite you in more threatening circumstances. But his demeanor seemed genuine, and you were starting to gain a little confidence in your presentation.

“Okay, well first she has a bout of peritonitis that requires surgery and causes physical complications leading to a dangerous episode of cramping and fatigue. So she goes to the nearby hospital for help, taking her mom with her for support.” You referenced the book in your hands,

“As in many other parts of the world, there are two kinds of hospitals. The clean ones with plenty of doctors and nurses to attend to patients, a clear view through the windows, labs, X-ray machines, ultrasound devices, gauze and emotional support. And then there are the other hospitals where people like Belen go. Two police officers handle her admission’”.

“That seems sketchy as fuck. Why are there police officers at a hospital?” Pena inquires, his stance still wide and foreboding, his arms stretching easily across the counter with control.

“That isn’t even the worst of it” you shake your head uncomprehendingly. “Here, let me read it to you….

‘When Belen finally comes to from the anesthesia she is surrounded by police officers. One of the men in uniform looks at her vagina. They ask where the fetus is. She is still adjusting to the news that she’d been pregnant and not known it, as well as to the news that she had miscarried, so she says nothing. Then a male nurse walks up to her with a small cardboard box. inside is something small and black. He shows it to her and says; “This is your son. Look what you did, bitch.” Belen cries and shouts that she didn’t do anything, so she doesn’t know what they’re talking about. They give her water to calm her down. It is day now and she is kept in the hospital under police custody. When she looks at the officer, she wishes she were dead’”.

Pena’s mouth falls open in disbelief, “The fuck…” he whispers, his eyes growing into a steely sheet of iron, grabbing the book out of your hands abruptly. Yeah, you definitely wouldn’t want to find this man behind the barrel of a gun. You pursed your lips thoughtfully as he rifled through the book, almost searching for redemptive clarity. Maybe you had judged him too harshly as per his proclivities. It seemed like he actually cared. You delicately retrieved the book from his open grasp. “Well, she’s safe now, right? They acquitted her, or issued a formal apology or something?” he asked, tightening his hands into two balls of fury pressed firmly against the wooden counter.

“I’m afraid it wasn’t quite that simple” you lamented. “They take her to prison for an interim period that lasts nearly three years” Pena’s lips tightened to a taut line of reproach. “And she has a string of deplorable lawyers before finally meeting Soledad” you brightened slightly with the first piece of good news in the narrative.

“Wait a damn minute, how can the court imprison someone for having a miscarriage? What about an abortion? I mean, THAT’S still legal, right?” his voice was tinged with incredulity, as you remained grateful that you were the only ones in attendance for your unexpected Ted Talk. This was going to be hard to explain, because it made little to no sense.

“Argentinian abortion laws only came into fruition four years ago, and the discussion of Belen’s story was a HUGE part of that. Prior to that time, most abortions were considered illegal. Even her lawyer Soledad talks about her personal experience, ‘I had an illegal abortion. The whole thing took me by surprise. This can happen to any woman. I went to the kind of place where no one on earth would feel safe. You can imagine what it was like. Suddenly, I was experiencing illegality and its many consequences. The moment when you feel you’ve lost your autonomy, then  all your rights, all of them, are suspended. I’ve never talked about it, you know? But my kids are all grown up now. That experience was a huge motivator. Why are women put through that? If it was awful for me, then what must it be like for women who don’t have the resources? Something inside me woke up. I might never get any rest, but I would do something for women’s rights. No one deserves to be treated that way’”.

You set the book down as Pena closed his eyes, attempting to quiet his breathing. He reached a hand behind his head drawing it across the back of his neck tensely and eventually dragging it down the front of his face. “Ay, Dios mio…I thought it was bad in Columbia”.

You paused quietly before offering, “It’s actually worse in Columbia”. Pena seemed to stop breathing momentarily as you continued. “I think Columbia only ratified their rulings in 2022, but don’t quote me on that”. The color drained from Pena’s face with embarrassment. He cleared his throat haltingly.

“LosientoDiostengapiedad” the words flew across his tongue fluidly as he rolled his eyes with chagrin. “I don’t….” he cleared his throat again for good measure, “I don’t generally associate with women who are in a…family way. Or want to be” his face contorted self-deprecatingly. “Maybe I just…didn’t ask….” his face gained a dull, graying quality. He looked like he was going to be sick.

You smirked knowingly. Okay, Playboy. Maybe you COULD teach this hot pendejo a thing or two. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a cigarette packet before offering you one.

“Oh, I’m sorry you can’t smoke in here…” you apologized, watching his eyes widen to saucer like imploring orbs of incredulity. Licking his lips dryly and eventually tucking the cigarette deftly behind his ear he gestured. “Dame mas…” he rasped, lowering his eyes to the ground and swallowing thickly.

“I know, it’s hard to believe such a thing actually occurred, but let me try to synopsize….

When Belen arrived at the hospital she was already mid-miscarriage. She went to the bathroom, and amidst pain meds and confusion, unbeknownst to her, expelled the fetus. Belen wakes up in the communal labor room surrounded by police and with forensic pathologists examining her vagina, and learns she was 15 weeks pregnant. She had two lawyers neither of which visited her, and was eventually held in reprimand for first degree murder. No one raised the issue of doctor-patient confidentiality. Her new lawyer does not have access to her legal docket before asking for a mistrial amidst Belen’s protestations to remain anonymous”.

“But people should know!” Pena nearly yelled full voice, gripping his knees placatingly and looking into your eyes. “I didn’t join law force to fuck around!” his cheeks reddened immediately under your scrutinizing gaze. “Well….not JUST to fuck around…” he whimpered, throwing his hands up in the air.

“Listening to her experience, it’s easy to see why she was reticent about sharing her personal story. It was nearly three years before she finally received the acknowledgement she deserved, and it wasn’t for lack of trying. She spoke with multiple people proclaiming her innocence. Look, the author recounts,

‘The following day she tries her best to get some sleep. She asks for a sleeping pill and prays it’s all a nightmare. When she wakes up, a priest is staring at her with a frighteningly serious expression and a Bible in his hand. What you’ve done is incredibly serious. God’s law cannot be broken. You murdered your son. God will punish you. You must repent” she recalls him saying. Belen tells him she didn’t do it, she’s innocent. For days, weeks, months, she will say the same thing. The priest is asked to vacate the room; the patient is under medical orders to rest. It’s a lie. The hospital no longer cares what happens to Belen. They just want her to leave as soon as possible. The priest continues his rounds”.

“Bastardo” Pena mutters before reacting to your intake of air. “Sorry” his hands drifted upwards as though cornered by his own law enforcement officers. “Would you believe—lapsing Catholic?” his impish smile disarmed you must faster than you anticipated, as you chuckled under your breath. Shifting your footing you winced slightly as a pang of cramps ricocheted through your body, nearly doubling over. “Are you okay, hermosa?” Pena stood to his feet, touching your elbow slightly with concern. Your skin crackled under his heated touch, as you locked eyes.

“Oh…yeah…I just…been on my feet, all day, probably have a headache or something” you deflected, though you thought you caught a knowing purse of his lips in acknowledgement. You must be imagining things again. Pena checked his watch. 

“It’s nearly noon, I’ve been commandeering all your time” he lamented, looking around the bookstore appraisingly. “Can you…take your lunch?” he shrugged mischievously, gesturing to the small counter behind him that doubled as a refreshment bar. You sighed with relief, recognizing the prudence of his observations. God you could use a break. Your mouth curled with chagrin as you began to remove your apron. “Wait right here” you instructed, rolling your eyes with faux indignation. Can’t argue with the long arm of the law, you internally jested, flipping the “OPEN” sign in the doorway and motioning him to the counter. You grabbed two pre-packaged sandwiches as Pena reached over the counter for two bottles of Jarritos before tossing a ten before him.

“Keep the change” he smirked, pulling out a chair for you and joining for your impromptu picnic. You placed the book on the table and began to unwrap the sandwiches, rolling your eyes.

“My hero” you winked, as his face began to beam with unadulterated pride. “Alright Pena, fess up. How much did you know about Belen before meeting me today?” you questioned, taking a quick bite of your sandwich and humming in approval.

“Guilty as charged” Pena agreed, now twiddling the cigarette between his fingers, as though toying with his actual hunger. “I saw her name in the papers and always wondered. I mean, it was obvious there was a story that needed to be told. But what province was she sentenced in? What happened to her supporters? How did she go from a murder conviction to a final acquittal? Where is Belen?” the questions rattled off of Pena’s tongue as he watched you closely. You had definitely ensnared his attention.

“Are you interrogating me, Officer Pena?” you smiled between bites, happy to see his veneer crumple with tinged embarrassment. “I think it’s important to note that this isn’t just Belen’s story. You should check out the documentary. It shows a part of the story a lot of people are in denial about; the fact that illegal abortions primarily affect women who are poor. In the movie, Belen is in shadow and her face isn’t viable per her request. All we get is her voice, which takes the form of a desperate cry. Most of the women interviewed in the documentary which delves into the underworld of clandestine abortions, appear again at the end of the film when they say with a smile; let it be law. But Belen doesn’t. her silhouette in the dark, her voice, her pain, and her story are all she agreed to share. And it’s plenty. But the bright side of her is missing. She’s more than her experiences, more than that cry”.

Pena nodded solemnly, finally taking a bite of his sandwich and sighing heavily. It was a lot to take in and easy to feel a fraction of the helplessness Belen must have experienced during her incarcerated time. You opened the book and proceeded,

“It’s Belen’s first day at the Special Investigations Unit, and she would rather not talk to anyone. But another detainee approaches her and asks what she’s in for. Belen says she’s been charged with inducing an abortion. The woman bursts out laughing and says that can’t be right. “If it was, then I’d be facing life, I’ve had three” she reassures her. Belen wants to explain that she didn’t induce anything, but the woman insists that even if that were the case, no one gets sent to prison for an abortion. It’s odd, but after a while Belen starts to feel safer in prison than she did at the Special Investigations Unit. Then again, there’s the shame. She doesn’t want anyone asking her why she is there. She has no interest in talking about happened. All she wants is to go home and wake up from this nightmare”.

“I don’t blame her” Pena muttered, wiping his mouth broadly and taking a quick drink. “Law enforcement is supposed to prevent situations like this, not make them worse” he sneered. “I’m surprised they didn’t release her…”.

“Oh, they tried”.

Pena nearly spit out his next sip of soda, sputtering slightly in surprise. “What do you mean?”  he coughed, grabbing a nearby napkin.

“Apparently it was clear to most of the correctional facility that Belen was being treated unjustly. One day, the guards endeavored to just…let her accidentally escape. Here, I highlighted this part,

‘Belen is on the sidewalk outside the correctional facility. She is un-handcuffed and unsupervised. The prison guards watch her from inside the prison and wonder if they will ever see her again. They can always make something up. They’re not worried. But Belen leaves the trash bags on the corner and walks back. She asks the guard to open the gate, then asks to be let back into the prison. The guards laugh, "You weren’t up to it. You looked like a cat that can’t be bothered to go outside” “I’ll go out when they prove my innocence. You’ll see.” Belen replies. She goes back to her book—How long can people live without air? How long? What is the measure of suffocation? And falls asleep”.

“No shit” Pena whispered, nodding in solidarity. “Speaks to her innocence” he curtly states, downing the rest of his soda in one gulp.

You nodded in agreement. “She and her lawyer, Soledad, never lost faith, but it wasn’t always easy.  Corea recounts Belen’s words,

‘No matter what happened to me, I never lost strength. I kept telling myself; I will not fall, I will keep going, because what they’re doing to me is unjust. Except for one time. There was a single time in my life when I thought I’d never recover, that I was falling and wouldn’t be able to get back on my feet. It was when I left the courthouse and my mom stayed behind. I didn’t think I’d get through it. It was hard, but here I am”.

“But where is here?” Pena opened his palms reflexively. “How did she escape? How did she prove her innocence? There must have been clues…” he propositioned, leaning forward in his chair, crumbs scattering the table before him. 

“Oh get this!” you exclaimed, rifling through the book as quickly as possible. “A social media post that Soledad noticed, ‘She felt a mix of relief and anger when she saw the last thing Belen had posted, five days before her hospital visit; a picture of her looking happy; with no belly. No one had bothered to notice that small detail before convicting her”.

“Jesus” Pena had started answering with one word responses, such was the force of his disbelief.

You continued,

“The way most of the media addresses this problem has to change. Too often, victims are blamed for their fates; they clothes, their friends, how they have fun. Deep down, the press fans the idea that “They brought it on themselves” . We need a news media that is committed to creating new protocols while adhering existing protocols and codes of ethics when covering cases like these. Television reproduces words and images that put women in situations of danger, inequality and dominance. It reproduces stereotypes. When women and girls who fall victim to violence are covered by the media, their private lives are trespassed”.

“The media is total shit” he spat. “Can’t trust ‘em for a goddam thing, unless it’s ratting out a source”.

“Tell me what you really think, Pena” you quipped, finishing your own soda and leaning back in your chair before gripping your abdomen tightly. Squinting your eyes shut, Javier reached across the table grabbing your hand tightly.

“I think that’s a little more than a headache” he softly intoned, squeezing your hand and beginning to clean up. “Why don’t you finish your lunch break and I’ll grab a smoke. I don’t want to leave Belen hanging for too long…” he begrudged, heading for the door and turning the door sign right side up. What an interesting customer, you reckoned, scouring your purse for that long awaited Advil and heading to the backroom. You decided to put together a display featuring some of the other books mentioned like “Jacque a Le Reina”, “Open the Door” by Ana Guillot, and “Bad Mothers, Abortion and Infanticide” by Julieta Di Corleto”. Belen may have achieved her freedom at a high cost, but there were still many women suffering under the injustices of an obsolete governmental system. You exhaled a steady sigh of exhaustion, heaving a new stack of books to the foyer and catching sight of your new, fast friend. His broad posture was pacing back and forth concernedly, a myriad of smoke mystically curling about him. As though hearing your unspoken thoughts, he turned abruptly to catch your stare, dropping the cigarette and stamping it into submission, flinging the door open decisively.

“Hot as hell out there, hermosa” he huffed, coughing slightly and rushing to help you with the stack of books. “So perhaps you can now tell me, what DID happen to Belen?”…

Part Two...

Pena's Pose

Thank you @auteurdelabre for our beautiful coloring book! I don't often like reposting my own work, because it messes up my dashboard. I guess Pedge and I run a tight ship, much like Pena himself, but occasionally he decides to let loose. Don't forget to check out our Afterglow Series that focuses specifically on intimate topics. Pena particularly enjoys "Workplace Benefits" and don't forget to listen to Pena's Playlist for the fully immersive experience. Narcos was absolutely amazing, definitely check it out if you haven't seen it yet....Pedge is heading to bed....

Pedge's Fave 2024 Things A Year of 1sts

@jolapeno Started a lovely end of the year wrap on some of our artistic contributions, and I want to play too! I mentor other artists, but I still have a hard time showcasing myself. Sometimes the whole thing feels so juvenile (#selfjudgement). But I get so much out of the writing process, and one of the big things I've been learning lately is the enjoyment of Love, that comes without entitlement or possession. Just experience :) So here it is! My first writing year on Tumblr, some of the projects that healed me, and the writers who inspired them. Let's keep expressin'! Baby's first...

Get to Know Me! (started writing so many fics I had to organize!) Make Your Own Kind of Music (fanart for The Unbearable Weight...) Pike's Place (we really popped the cherry on this one...1st collab.. 1st series, 1st trope challenge, 1st Christmas, 1st trailer...final episode New Year's Day, thanks @inept-the-magnificent) @burntheedges Summer Camp (Pedro Scouts was the bomb. These were my first Tumblr activities and I learned a ton...) @goodwithcheese My Darling Muse (Dieter Bravo combines art and poetry with his personal assistant, J...sparks ensue ) temporary hiatus...D is in rehab...again Over-Protective Mom (Bitmoji Mood Board) Afterglow Series (intimacy w/ Pike, Javi, Pena...who's next?) Pedge's Jukebox (writing inspo. for other writers, short fics about Pedro characters + music) Blood Sucking Witch (getting dark w/ Max Phillips for Halloween...) Unmasked (Christmas Disaster! w/ Din Djarin) @beefrobeefcal Thanksgiving Delights (praise kink w/ hubby Marcus Moreno) Pedge's Bookshop (Last of Us Canon, Joel and J deconstruct "Crime and Punishment"...with smut lol) Dead Dove December (SH and ideation w/ Joel, mature) @romana-after-dark

Pedge approves :)

PedgesJukebox

I think we're done with this trend, but Pedge and I still like it, and invite you to check out Pedge's Jukebox when you you get a chance!

I love combining reality with fantasy, and while I'm sure this isn't a new Tumblr concept, I'm going to be cataloguing our Pedro Boys as per Pedge's suggestions! All playlists will attempt to utilize music or groups that Pedro Pascal has referenced at some point. Get your headphones and enjoy! I also am secretly hoping writers might utilize this playlists for inspiration. I can't write with music in the background, but some people can. Every Spotify list comes with it's own triggers and literary short for our favorite characters interaction with the arts...

Series Masterlist

Pedge Tweets Afterglow

I love the throw down as much as the next gal, but I love the "Afterglow" even more. Excited to attempt this sexy time experimentation, writing for some of the Pedro Boys with variety in shorter snippets. Wanted a therapeutic outlet for our great and not so great "O"'s. Mostly self-indulgent intimacy writing, though Pedge is VERY excited...

Series Masterlist

*art by Vivek Gupta + Klimt

Pedge Tweets!

Thanks @inept-the-magnificent for the tag, I've been wanting to do some Instagram worthy characters for a while! I might occasionally incorporate real tweets or photos, but it's mostly just me....and Pedge...

PedgeIsPunk PikesPlace MyDarlingMuse AfterglowSeries PedgesBookshop PedgesJukebox NewYorkNewYork PinkiePiePedge PedgesCinema

Here's the template to try yourself!

Pedro-Tober #4

Inspired by @alyssamariag and @norththelemon I've decided to feature curated pics/art, juxtaposed with fics and AI inspired Bitmoji. So much artistry to celebrate this October, look at these amazing artists! Also, it's the last week to "Trick or Treat"! Hit me up!

20.) Frankie Morales IG: VanessaDraws, "Moody Frankie" @pedges-world

21.) Curls @norththelemon

22.) Gladiator @southparkpedro

23.) Din Jarin IG: Tealspy

24.) Sundance IG: Vanessa Draws

25.) Javier Pena IG: Junes.Pegasus, Afterglow Series @pedges-world

Series Masterlist

Pena's Playlist Spotify

I love combining reality with fantasy, and while I'm sure this isn't a new Tumblr concept, I'm going to be cataloguing our Pedro Boys as per Pedge's suggestions! All playlists will attempt to utilize music or groups that Pedro Pascal has referenced at some point. Get your headphones and enjoy!

Triggers: music may involve profanity and adult topics, short description of character's interactions with music, smut

Pedge's Jukebox

Pena's Playlist (Spotify)

*Pena who listens to music on the way to stressful DEA ops to distract himself *Rolls his eyes every time “La Bamba” comes on the radio, but mindlessly taps his foot regardless *Sits in the corner at the annual family potluck, listening to music and wishing he had someone to dance with *Endlessly annoyed with the elevator music playing at the DEA offices *Three whiskeys in at the bar, deluged with cigarette smoke and already horny *Favorite playlist for making love so he can sync his rhythm with song of choice *Blares the music loudly to cover sexy time sounds; NOT SUCCESSFUL *Can’t hold a melody to save his life, but can occasionally be found post coital in the shower, humming to himself in the steam *Loves hearing you sing under your breath in the kitchen as you prepare Ajaco. Secretly reminds him of his mother, but he will never say so

*thanks @strangergraphics-archive for the cool dividers!

Pedge's Juke Box

I love combining reality with fantasy, and while I'm sure this isn't a new Tumblr concept, I'm going to be cataloguing our Pedro Boys as per Pedge's suggestions! All playlists will attempt to utilize music or groups that Pedro Pascal has referenced at some point. Get your headphones and enjoy! I also am secretly hoping writers might utilize this playlists for inspiration. I can't write with music in the background, but some people can...

Pena's Playlist Max's Mix Joel's Jives Maxwell's Music J's Jams Frankie's Favorites Dieter's Deets Silva's Songs Pike's Playlist The General's Genre Baby's Beats

*Please keep singing darling, we LOVE It....(our DJ)

The Big Goodbye (NY, NY Series Finale)

This series was so healing for me. My writing is obviously self-indulgent, so please proceed at your own risk. I'm sad to bid these two farewell, BUT anytime I'm missing NY or need more Pedge in my life, I'm just gonna pop in for a short.

Triggers: RPF, profanity, Narcos audition, alcohol, friends with benefits, goodbyes, artistic rejection, smut...I wanted to explore intimacy and the ways we love on one another that are non-traditional (hope you enjoy as I did!)

Series Masterlist

The words were ringing in the air along with the heavy patter of hypnotic raindrops.

“It’s a no. I didn’t get it”.

Your mouth parted slightly in surprise. Juxtaposed by the surrealistic events of the day the echo of reality seemingly throbbed in your being, watching P’s chest rise and fall with a heavy melancholy.

He swallowed harshly, turning his back to you again and pocketing the cell phone. You suddenly felt the dripping weight of the rain, clinging to your clothes, squeaking in your shoes. The once fragrant heat of the greenhouse now mildewed in soiled oppression, anger starting to leak out of you. Motherfucking "Narcos". They can’t even see what is glaringly obvious in front of them. But you could. Pedge placed his hands on his hips, a ripple of anxiety cascading across his back and neck. You could almost feel the rising lump in his throat from where you stood. Trying to shrug off the familiar feeling of rejection. So many auditions. So much indecision. So much insecurity. This industry could be a fucking nightmare, but to have so many “maybes”. So many “almosts”. You could only go to brunch and coffees and wine tastings so many times before it caught up with you. How do people expect us to have a thick enough skin, surviving the many rejections, but also remaining transparently vulnerable enough to process the emotions of artistry and humanity? There’s always a breaking point, and you were looking at one small example of it, standing in front of you.

Your eyebrows creased in concern. Sigh. Now, what was your motivation? Some intimacy coach you were. Nurturing? Comic relief? Logic? Lots of ways to handle fragility, but what offers the best support? You bit your lower lip, still tasting the cinnamon flavors of his chapstick. All of your senses were heightened as you reached out for his shoulder tentatively.

“Pedge….”.

“S’okay” he muttered perfunctorily, swinging around a bit too quickly and plastering a mostly believable grin across his face. “It was a long shot anyways” he tilted his head with joviality, coaxing a wry smile. “Win some, you lose some” he voice cracked a little at the end as he shifted with discomfort, looking down at his shoes. “See! Even Mother Nature is pissed on my behalf!” he shouted, arms outstretched, trying to lighten the moment.

You chuckled, mostly for his benefit, feeling the sting of your own insecurities and rejections coming to the surface. “Idiots!” you yelled to the greenhouse ceiling, attempting to diffuse the newfound tension. 

“Cabrones!” he exclaimed, gesturing to heaven as a loud clap resounded authoritatively. He grinned back at you in supplication, shrinking down a bit, deferentially. “Come on, let’s get out of here…”. You took each others waist on the exit, ducking from the all-encompassing rain, running in short bursts all the way back to the subway entrance.

Teetering precariously on the humming subway, you held Pedge’s hand tightly in your own. You’d learned a lot from the Big Apple, as you braced your legs in a wide stance, hugging the subway pole territorially and glancing up at this countenance surreptitiously. There was no doubt in your mind Pedge was a great actor, but there were some things that didn’t need to be fabricated. You could feel the self doubt rolling in waves off of his shoulders, as he bit his lip with a worried repetition. Pulsing your hand in his, his eyes immediately shot up to yours with curiosity. “My place?” he squeaked, attempting to pull himself back into the real world.

“Mine” you intoned lightly, bringing his encased hand around your back supportively. He nodded quickly, slipping back into his tumultuous state of mind. You weren’t sure what Pedge needed in this moment, but whatever it was, you were determined to give it to him. He had given you so much during your time in New York, and this moment was about him. Your stomach flipped with anticipation, as you realized you were mostly packed for tomorrow’s exit. You didn’t know how to reconcile the many emotions coursing through your veins, as the city whirred past you in a blurry din of lights and streaking raindrops. Excitement, confusion, dread, concern, curiosity…it was a tumult of electricity moving through you much like the city itself. P sniffled forlornly, hugging your hip and offering you a tight smile. 

“Thanks” he offered matter of factly, unsure of how else to communicate the complexity of the moment. You turned your body towards his, caging him in and touching his face lightly. 

“Hey,” he locked eyes with you as you whispered “it’s going to be okay”. A flicker of pain flashed across his face for a millisecond before it quickly armored up in the buzzing atmosphere. Your voice caught in your throat, knowing EXACTLY how P felt in this uncertain situation, poised before an unknown adventure on the horizon.

The subway started to grind to a metallic stop as you teased Pedge with his earlier retort. “Gotta expect the unexpected”. He smiled with fatigue, his shoulders heavy with gravitas, as you approached your stop. Leading him wordlessly by the hand you exited the  subway and quietly made your way down the street. Gazing at the flickering lamplights, uproarious laughter and honking taxi cabs you wished you could forever house him in a cocoon of safety, but soon enough. Hitting the doorstep to your Airbnb, you double checked once more, “Come up for a night cap?”

Pedge nodded quietly, eyes gazing downward. You pursed your lips pensively, cupping his face in your hand and bringing his eyes up to meet your face. “I have wine” you offered forlornly, rubbing your thumb in a small circle across his cheek. 

“Perfect for whining” he almost whimpered, losing steam by the second.

Hand firmly clasped and trudging up the stairs you led him into the apartment, dropping your purse and rain soaked shoes at the door. You set about pouring two glasses of Pinot Noir and returned to the door finding Pedge unmoving, where you’d left him. He was shivering slightly with his arms folded tightly over his chest, looking downward. Somehow his broad shoulders and chest had collapsed further down, and he looked so small. Almost like a little boy, fretting about stolen candy.

“Drink up” you offered, placing the wine glass in his hand and toasting it with a clinking sound. He grinned with an air of melancholy, downing the glass in one fell swoop and breathing heavily. “I know this is the last thing you want to hear right now, but I’m toasting you. I’m toasting us…”. He rolled his eyes with self-annoyance, tightening his lips in a fine line to prevent himself from speaking. “You were fucking GREAT in that scene” you congratulated him, as he took a shuddering breath, playing with the slightly frayed edges of his now drying dress shirt. “I’m serious” you stepped directly under his chin, nosing the bristling patches of his beard and coaxing his eyes towards yours. “I’m a touring Broadway performer…and I KNOW talent when I see it” you chided self-deprecatingly as he smiled slyly, still not meeting your eyes completely. “It’s not everyone who gets to die on Game of Thrones” you teased, kicking his booted foot with your bare one.

“I’m pretty sure that’s the status quo” his voice cracked in defeat, trying to drain the dregs of his mostly empty wine glass and pouting slightly. “Seconds?” he quipped, handing the glass back to you. 

“Definitely” you encouraged, downing your glass quickly as well. You gazed over at the pumping radiator hissing angrily in the corner as Pedge removed his shoes and headed over to the couch, plopping down unceremoniously. Pouring two more glasses of wine you came to join him, setting the glasses down on the nearby coffee table. 

“You’re all wet” you reprimanded, running a tender hand through his hair and drawing it down his neck. 

Pedge smiled mischievously to himself, “What, are we doing our scene again?” he teased, tilting his head sideways on his elbow.

“We get better every time we practice” you drew your finger across his brow which had become furrowed in bitter recollection. 

“What I’m missing in my apartment is a woman” he sighed, placing his palm over your thigh and sliding his fingers ever so slightly under the rain soaked fabric.

“What are you doing this weekend?” you asked, your breath hitching cautiously in your chest and drawing your finger down the front of his dress shirt, popping one or two buttons, loosely.

Moving his thumb to the soft skin on the inside of your thigh delicately he jested, “Stuck in a depressive episode because my friend is abandoning me for career opportunities that I lack”. 

You paused, reprimanding his harsh evaluation with a stern look.

“Too soon? It’s too soon for joking…” he sighed, sinking into the couch and laying back to gaze at the ceiling.

“Ven aqui” you whispered, tentatively sliding across the couch and straddling his quads as he held you around the waist. “Dame un beso” you leaned closer, collapsing your weight to his body and nibbling at his neck. You felt him relax beneath you as you drew the fleshy part of your lower lip up his chiseled jaw, nestling in the patchy scratches of his beard. Feeling his fingers drifting lower over your backside you kept your eyes closed, and then connected with his lips passionately, breathing one another in and out. All thought left your mind completely, poised at the task of comforting him however you could. You were mindlessly circling your hips over his dress pants as he slid the shoulders of your sundress down to your waist.

Pressing your breasts up against his chest, you moved together in synchronicity, allowing the vibrating warmth of the wine to pulse inside you. After a few minutes, you pulled back to look at his sorrowful eyes, placing your hands lightly atop his stomach.

“What does it mean?” he whispered, looking into your eyes imploringly. You weren’t sure if he was referencing your connection, or the audition, or even life itself. Naturally drawn to the existential questions, you smiled, moved by his artistry and confusion. 

“It doesn’t have to mean anything” you repeated his words back to him from earlier. “It’s just a moment. And we can decide whatever we want”. His face crumpled slightly in recognition as you took his face in your hands sweetly. “What do you need?” you asked straightforwardly, trying to hone your skills of telepathy as he drew his arms lightly up and down your back.

“I don’t even know” he muttered, looking around the room for inspiration. “I’m all over the place” he dropped his hands to the side, laying back against the couch with resignation and pausing to consider his feelings.

You waited quietly, atop his lap, resting your hands against his chest, hearing the deafening tic-tock of the battery operated clock in the corner.

His face contorted quietly in a small whimper. “I really thought I had it” he cried softly, covering his face quickly with his hands in embarrassment.

You welled up, watching him doubt the artistry and talent he clearly possessed, and knowing all too well that sometimes that just wasn’t enough. “Hey” you gently took his hands away from his face as he turned his head to the side with chagrin. “YOU are enough” you laced your fingers through his own, bringing them up to your chest with abandon. He chuckled, feeling the edges of your exposed bra against his fingers, eyeing you from the side.

“You think so?” he teased dolefully, fingering at the delicate skin of your breasts and humming shyly.

“I DO think so!” you brought his chin back to center with a deft finger as he eyed your chest sacredly, slowly bringing his gaze up to yours. He shivered slightly, gulping back the tears, determined to offer a more resolute countenance. “There are just some moments in life you have to be…patient” you reasoned, realizing that your time was whittling down from hour to hour. “Timing is everything and sometimes…it’s not yet time” you looked at him appraisingly, realizing that perhaps he needed a different kind of release than the obvious one.

“Come on” you carefully slid off of his lap watching his melancholy gaze follow after you along with his outstretched hands. “We’re taking a shower, and then we’re going to bed” you stated matter-a-factly.

“We are?” his curiosity peaked as he stifled a small yawn of emotional fatigue.

“Yeah, mister, some of us have to get up early for our grand exit, and I’m not leaving you with a New York City sized cold” you rationalized, leaving the wine glasses on the table. “What you need is a hot shower and a cuddle” nodding your head firmly as Pedge shakily arose, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt en route. “You’ve bossed me around enough, now it’s my turn…”

“I haven’t been bossy!” Pedge called after you, unzipping his pants and hopping down the hallway awkwardly.

“You most certainly have!” your voice echoed from the bathroom as the shower roared to life, attempting to distract P from the tumultuous day’s events. You smiled to yourself, stripping off the clingy sundress and shimmying your underwear to the floor in a tangled bundle.

You wiggled your fingers through the lukewarm water, anticipating the vanilla scented body wash you’d discovered at the Airbnb. Pedge’s voice crescendoed as he rounded the corner in his boxer briefs, “Okayeeee California…” he stopped abruptly seeing your half naked figure in the bathroom. You turned your body towards him mischievously as you drank one another in. Pedge covered his crotch with one hand, blushing slightly, and then hiding back behind the doorframe. “Are we doing this?” he smirked, peaking out from the hallway.

“I’m taking a shower” you teased, unhooking your bra in one motion and dropping it to the floor along with Pedge’s jaw. “And I’m hoping you’re going to join me, Prince Dorne or whatever the hell your name is…” you clutched your hands around your chest stepping into the shower and immediately enjoying the hot streams of water pelting your skin.

“Don’t have to tell me twice, boss” he stepped out of his underwear, kicking it to the corner with yours and hopping in behind you, pulling the curtain shut. You laughed wryly, taking a quick glance at his nether regions with admiration.

“Okay, Prince…” your eyebrows shot up to the ceiling with curiosity. “Do we get to see you in all this splendor on the big screen, or is this a private showing?” you poked him in the belly button, watching his length pinken and swell slightly. He blushed again as the shower heated up in more ways than one.

“I’m not hearing any complaints” he rasped, drawing his body to yours and pulling your hair taut behind you. You shivered slightly with the changing temperature and feather light touch of his fingertips at your back.

“I’m proud of you” you nuzzled into his neck, trying to breathe around the billowing clouds of steam wafting over your bodies. He pulled his face back slightly, holding you around the waist loosely and looking into your eyes with intention.

“Thank you” he nodded, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Thanks for being here with me” he kissed you lightly on the lips for a long moment. You sighed contentedly, reaching haphazardly for the loofah sponge.

“Alright, any areas off-limits? How do we feel about vanilla?” you smiled, lathering your hands.

“Sky’s the limit” he laughed, slowly allowing his previous worries to wash away with the bubbling soap suds.

You drew the sponge across his chest moving in slow circles drifting lower and lower until you hit the tuft of hair at the base of his torso. Pedge hissed in quickly, twitching at your light touch. “This okay?” you intoned, watching his face for micro expressions. His eyes glazed over slightly, melting into your hand. “Yeeaaaa” he drawled, stepping an inch closer to your body magnetically. “My turn?”

You handed the sponge off to him, rotating in place, feeling the warm suds cascading down your back seductively. 

“Ticklish?” he teased landing a quick swath downward and cupping your backside, eliciting a myriad of giggles.

“Maybe?” you crumpled slightly, turning back to face him. He pecked at your lips tentatively as you wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling his length bump up in between your legs tantalizingly. You hummed into his mouth peacefully as you both swayed carefully in the sudsy, warm atmosphere. Enjoying one another until your fingertips were starting to prune, you broke away from the lengthy kiss to massage his shoulders comfortingly. “Any better?” you questioned watching his tranquil expression.

“I’ll be okay” he nodded, assembling his thoughts once again and sighing with relief. “Like somebody wise told me; not all who wander are lost” he acquiesced.

Toweling one another off to small kisses and quick tickles you ruffled his hair affectionately. “I think I’m ready for tomorrow. Any big advice before I head into the next adventure?” you asked, wrapping the towel around your body modestly and looking at Pedge in the steam coated mirror. He reached over your shoulder, swiping a clear path along the reflective surface and gazing back at your questioning expression. 

“Why? Do you want my acting advice?” he jested, before you elbowed him in the stomach jokingly. 

“Ouch” he rubbed his tummy slyly, pondering for a moment. “Just be good to yourself and be good to others” he rested his chin drolly on your shoulder looking at you in the mirror.

“Be good to yourself” you repeated to his reflection as he fluttered his eyelids comedically. “And be good to others” you turned to hug him affectionately, pressing your body against his. You stood that way for what felt like an eternity before Pedge chided,

“Is your towel gonna fall down if we stop hugging?” he laughed, before you pulled back tauntingly. 

“Wanna find out?” you teased, grasping your towel around the edge and scooting past Pedge before he swatted you on the ass.

You eyed your packed suitcase in the corner of the bedroom sadly before dropping the towel to the floor and throwing on a cozy pink sweater over your softened frame. Pedge appeared in the doorway, holding his towel at the waist. “Got one of those for me?” he quipped, looking around the room appraisingly. You grabbed one of your tourist purchases you had bought with Pedge in Time Square holding it up in front of his body with delight. 

“I heart New York” Pedge read, grabbing at the t-shirt and pulling it over his frame smoothly. “Works for me” he yawned, hitting the light switch as you both crawled into bed with exhaustion. There was lots of laughing and shifting as the bed creaked noisily over the hard wood floor. “Geez, is this futon gonna collapse under us both?” Pedge teased, finally pulling you in to his body and resting his head in the crook of your neck.

“Let’s hope not, I don’t wanna pay an extra Airbnb fee” you yawned, settling into the mattress and covering his arms with your own. “Thanks again for all of your help, Pedge, I couldn’t have done this without you” your words started to mumble slightly as you felt your body relax into his hold.

“I’m really excited for you and your tour” he breathed into your neck, kissing it slightly at the base. “I’m sorry I ruined everything with a lousy audition. I didn’t want today to be about me…”.

You turned in his embrace, desperately trying to locate the chocolate depths of his eyes in the darkened room. “You didn’t ruin a thing, Pedge” you began. “As artists, we get to experience all of this together, wherever we find ourselves. Our victories. Our defeats. It’s one big tapestry, and it’s nice to find ourselves knitted together.” Even in the dark, you could feel the intensity of his gaze pouring into you. “Was tonight okay? I mean…do you need more?” you stuttered, eager to show your support in whatever way you could. The silence stretched out before you as your heart fluttered nervously in your chest. Perhaps you had said too much…Had the intimacy of the day somehow threatened your easy friendship? You heard a single tear patter to the pillowcase as Pedge caught you in an unexpected and passionate kiss. You held each other, attempting to hold time further still.

“Today was everything I needed, and more” Pedge whispered. “Thank you for being my friend. I’m proud of you” he smiled, and your heart exploded in your chest with joy. 

“I’m proud of you, P” you whispered back, slowly starting to drift into a happy haze, feeling the hairs of his beard bristling at your neck and his arms wrapped firmly around your waist in comfort. “You’ve got a big day tomorrow, just rest” his voice echoed in the recesses of your mind before you fell asleep.

The morning was filled with anticipation as Pedge returned to the apartment with coffee and bagels before your departure. Although the air was tinged with sadness it was also humming with the electricity of a new adventure, as you looked over at your small suitcases dotting the stoop and winter coat draped over the luggage.

Pedge’s easy smile had returned, despite the previous day’s apparent defeat and you marveled once again at the resiliency artists such as yourselves had to demonstrate day after day.

“You gonna watch me on tv next month?” Pedge asked sipping at his iced quad espresso jovially, having already inhaled his breakfast.

“What do you think Mr. Six Shots?” you laughed, nibbling cautiously at the everything bagel, too adrenaline fueled to consider your own latte.

“I did okay” he deflected, considering recent events. “Netflix-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named might be a dud, but somethings gotta be on the horizon…” he reasoned. “I think my agent mentioned something about Gotham coming up…”.

“I’m not gonna have to watch you die in that too, am I?” you jested, tossing your napkin deftly at his face. 

“Fine by me” he grumbled. “Currently I can’t get arrested, and I’m more than happy to die as many times as is necessary…”. 

You pouted placatingly. “See me off later?”

“You bet” he smiled. “I’ve got a meeting with my agent, but it might get pushed. They can’t drop me after GOT, right?” he pondered, inhaling the rest of his espresso nervously.

“They’d be INSANE if they did!” you argued, grasping his wrist. “I’m fairly certain any nervousness you’re feeling is fully caffeinated at this point…”. He smiled mischievously, wrapping his hand over yours. “I’m overthinking everything” he confessed. “Let’s head to the studio and get you on the road, chickadee” he teased, kissing you on the cheek and heading towards the door. “Adventures await!” he flung open the door to your Airbnb, attempting to grab ALL of your luggage in a bear hug, amidst your protestations and giggles. Goodbye New York City, and hello newfound adventure. It felt amazing to be taking Pedge’s encouragement right along with you.

The morning passed by in a blur. The company had assembled at Ripley Grier as P headed upstairs to the Equity offices for his meeting. You had already said your official goodbyes, but as the note session wrapped up, your heart plummeted slightly realizing this was it. The company was packing up, and Pedge was nowhere to be found. Better to rip the bandaid off, you reasoned, rolling your baggage into the elevator and heading downstairs to the awaiting tour bus. The atmosphere was tinged with anticipation, laughter and ambition as you all piled into the bus, heading to your out of town technical rehearsal in upstate New York. You marveled at the miracle your life had evolved into, and resolved to make every moment count in all the artistic relationships you had made and were going to enjoy for a lifetime. You just wished you could somehow wrap it all up in your little pink suitcase to take with you. Settling into your seat you nervously glanced at your phone.

Pedge must still be in his meeting, you thought, wondering why everything was taking so long. Would an agency really drop a star performer, just because they hadn’t landed the most recent audition? It was ludicrous to even consider, but you shook your head in disapproval. The artistic life wasn’t a predictable one, but P’s talent would sustain him in whatever situation he found himself. You were confident it was just a matter of time. Broadway, television, movies…Pedge could make it happen, and you would be able to watch him do it.

You waited expectantly, the seconds ticking by disappointingly. Damn. The production manager hopped on the bus mic, updating the company as you rolled out. You pressed your fingertips to the glass reticently. Bye, Pedge. Your lip wobbled with emotion as you heaved a heavy sigh of longing. Can’t be in two places at once, chica…Pedge’s voice seemed to tint your own imagination as you watched the cogs of the city slowly mechanizing forward. Swaths of bright yellow sunshine-colored cabs, elbowing one another for dominance. An array of humanity dotting the busy streets as the cumbersome bus angled awkwardly between cyclists, pedestrians and automobiles. Your phone buzzed loudly in your hand.

You pouted with discouragement, watching Ripley Grier fade into the background.

Sighing heavily you rested your head against the bus window. Geez, EVERYTHING was taking forever. NY wasn’t designed for bumbling busses. You inched forward at a glacial pace. At this rate, tech wasn’t gonna start until next week.

You parried, hoping to get a response, to no avail. Well this was anticlimactic. So much for the grand exit. You waited another five minutes, settling in for the lengthy drive. This was just the beginning of the adventure, so let’s all hurry up and wait, you surmised. New York City streets were a cornucopia of mankind. You smiled watching a woman in a mink, dragging a tea cup poodle behind her. A gaggle of school kids, obviously playing hooky on a Monday. Artistic graffiti. Piles of trash on the side of the road. What a town, you observed.

Your eyes shot up to your forehead in confusion. Huh?

I AM looking out my window, you chided, wondering if you were EVER going to exit the Big Apple. Hard to start the next adventure if you never finished the first one. You squinted begrudgingly at the sea of humanity before you. Pretzel cart. Check. The bus puttered a few more feet forward. Fire escape argument decorated with a laundry line backdrop. Check. Geez, New York was its own movie set. Pashminas, snow globes, tourist caricatures…What were you supposed to be looking for?

A bouncing balloon caught your eye as a beaming Pedge bounced playfully beside it. “Sorry For Your Loss” it read contradictorily, in opposition to the contagious light cascading out of P’s eyes. You goofball, you smiled, popping up in your seat and nearly banging your head on the luggage rack.

“Sit the f@ck down!” the driver congenially reprimanded, attempting to bulldoze over a school bus to the right. Pedge darted in and out of traffic, arriving at the molasses paced flow of traffic and banging on the side of the bus. “Get the f@ck outta the road!” the bus driver yelled, braking before he hit the taxicab in front of him. 

Pedge yelled back, “Hey, I’m WALKIN’ HERE!” unfazed by the onslaught of cars and apathetic onlookers. He skipped sideways, pointing to his phone as the balloon bobbed next to his head. Gazing down at your hand you immediately recognized his number and answered.

“You idiot, get out of the road before you’re flattened like a pancake. We don’t need another Dorne situation!” you laughed, stumbling to the front of the bus.

“I got it” he smiled, his voice a tinny, delayed echo on the phone in relation to his enthusiastic and Cheshire like grin.

You lumbered to the driver’s right, stopping abruptly at the front of the bus.

“What? I can’t hear you, Pedge!” you plugged one ear as the driver berated you for getting out of your seat.

“I got it. Narcos. I got it.” he wriggled around the front of the bus carefully, arriving at the bus entrance.

You froze in delight, watching his boyish expression through the somewhat dirtied glass.

“WHAT???” you shrieked, now eliciting curious giggles and questions from the company as the production manager attempted to regain control of the situation.

You watched his mouth as he pointed animatedly into the phone. “I’M. JAVIER. PENA! I got it!” he banged on the door again loudly as the bus inched forward another foot. You shymied down the stairwell, yelling back at the driver, “Open the door! Open the door!”

“Geeeeezus, actors!” the driver drawled, a thick New York accent spilling forward. “You’re way past the line, lady!”

One of your company friends shouted from the back, “Goddam open the door already! Open, open, open!” the bus started chanting with encouragement as traffic seemed to close up in support of your reunion.

You grabbed your stomach theatrically, “Man, I really gotta puke, you better open this door, if you don’t want a situation..” you bluffed, watching Pedge bang on the door repetitively.

“Bitchy actors” the driver finally acquiesced, punching a button as the door jettisoned opened towards you. Without hesitation you flung yourself into P’s arms as the bus erupted into applause.

“Well that was cinematic” Pedge exclaimed into your ear, sending an electric tickle down your spine. He pulled back to face you, beaming broadly from ear to ear. “Can I hang up on you now?” he joked, holding you around the waist and booping you on the nose.

“I don’t see any puking!” the driver stated matter-a-factly inching the bus another few feet forward.

Pedge carried you sideways as the company pressed their noses up against the windows in rapt anticipation. “You got it?” you questioned, pulled in by the magnetism of his joy and wonder.

“I got it” he repeated, nodding his head in affirmation. “They didn’t know if GOT was going to be a scheduling conflict, and then something fell through..and…I got it!”. You were completely speechless, feet dangling off the ground and heart dangling in your chest with effervescence.

“Puking!” the driver abruptly interrupted, moving the bus a solid ten feet forward as traffic eased up slightly.

Pedge hopped sideways to keep up with the shifting traffic as you gripped him tightly around the neck. “We’re going to start shooting in Columbia in the next few weeks, I’ve gotta lease my apartment, my agents have already set up a meet with the FBI, it’s all f@cking happening, J!” you both laughed maniacally as the information spilled out of him joyfully. “It’s happening!”

“I knew it!” you exclaimed as he set you down, gripping your hands in front of you. You both started jumping up and down like little kids, as the balloon bobbed in acknowledgement along side you both. “I’m so proud of you Pedge!” you grinned.

“I’m kind of proud of me too” he agreed. “Looks like you could be a GREAT intimacy coach if this whole acting thing doesn’t work out” he joked, stepping forward into your personal space and hooking his fingers through your belt loops.

“Kiss her, kiss her, kiss her!” the company started chanting repetitively as the sounds of the city began to fade around you. Even the bus driver’s reprimands dulled in comparison to the light shining in Pedge’s eyes. You wrapped your arms around his neck, magnetically pulled into a passionate kiss. The world slowed…much like the current traffic…while you enjoyed your Big Goodbye, New York style. After what seemed like an eternity, the sounds of the city came rushing back in a torrent of sound and fury, as the company uttered a communal, juvenile “Awwwwww”.

“Give ‘em what they want” Pedge teased, brushing that pesky hair out of your face, and tucking it behind your ear.

“Looks like they want YOU” you returned, clasping his face in your palm, and circling the small heart shaped patch in his beard affectionately.

“Lady, either you’re in or out!” the driver finally smiled, juxtaposed by the production manager who looked like they were ACTUALLY going to be sick.

You turned back towards Pedge and quickly exclaimed, “I love you!” gasping slightly at your bizarre, somewhat ill-timed confession.

Somehow P’s smile broadened even more as he leaned in for a final peck on your lips. He set you back on the stair-stoop of the bus, comedically yelling at the taxicab that was precariously perched behind him, and slapping the hood of it theatrically. The doors whooshed closed as traffic finally eased up, allowing the bus to slowly advance. Pedge’s silhouette began to shrink as the bus continued its formative journey, and the company returned to their seats amidst the exhortations of the production manager. You gripped the handrails as Pedge waved dramatically, the small balloon escaping his grasp and dotting the horizon… “Sorry For Your Loss”. He jumped after it helplessly, finally shrugging his shoulders and waving extravagantly, seeing you off for a New York Goodbye that was truly cinema worthy.

Sorry For Your Loss, you whispered to yourself, plopping back down in your seat and smiling warmly. Every loss was a newfound gain. Every ending, a new beginning. And realizing that some journeys had only just begun. Not all who wander are lost, you reminded yourself, gazing down at your buzzing phone that was still in your hand.

You sat back contentedly in your seat watching New York City blur around you. I’m ready, you mused. I’m ready.

Afterglow Series Workplace Benefits

*thank you @almostfoxglove for the sexy moodboard, I'm inspired!

The Afterglow Series is more focused on intimacy and unexpected situations, so please imbibe accordingly. Javier Pena is so voracious, I wanted to explore what would happen if he met his match.

Triggers: Prostitute POV, empowered woman in a safe transactional relationship w/ Javier Pena that evolves into more vulnerability, a little physical aggression, profanity, alcohol use, aftercare, crying (there's always crying), P in V, a little more smutty than most of my stuff, more valiant attempts at Spanish however inaccurate...

Series Masterlist

You loved your job. It wasn’t the type of thing you could easily discuss with your sister and the futbol moms. But you felt empowered as fuck, and prostitutes were more protected than ever. To be honest, you didn’t really think of yourself in those terms. What you thought of was the money and the sense of power you felt, holding important men, quite literally by the balls. And Javier Pena was one of them.

You’re not sure when, but at some point, things had begun to shift. At first, he came over for a quick whiskey and a fuck. And then one time, he arrived on your doorstep, already drunk and cuddly as a teddy bear. You don’t think he even remembered, leaving $100 bucks on your nightstand and thanking you for a “good time”. There was a routine of sorts, and sometimes he was flat out aggressive, but you never had a problem with that. As long as he paid, you were happy to incur a few bumps and bruises, and knowing he left happy, your income was relatively secure. But last week, he came by, perfectly sober and ready…to talk? It wasn’t a DTR, that would be ludicrous. He just wanted to talk. You kept trying to lure him to bed, but he endlessly deflected, making you laugh till you nearly snorted iced tea out of your nose, ordering  tacos from the seedy joint downstairs, and still leaving $100 bucks on the nightstand after you fell asleep watching tv. What the non-fuck was going on?

Today seemed like the routine as per usual. He’d shown up on your doorstep, raring to go, whiskey in hand and lust pouring from his steely gaze. Several breaks in, he’d enjoyed himself profusely and you found yourself being pounded from the back, as his sweaty hips thrashed against you loudly. Until….you had a problem. You were cumming.

The day had been fine, you’d already had several clients and were looking forward to seeing Javier in the evening. Feeling relaxed and unfocused you hadn’t realized your body was careening out of your control until this very moment. A quick surprising breath caught in your throat as you attempted to stifle a low moan…

“Que?” Javier questioned, as though telepathically linked to every nerve in your body.

You tried to play it off as one of your many performances, “Oh Javi more! So wet, so wet…” until you realized those statements weren’t a fabrication. Your legs were already trembling and the room was starting to spin around you.

“You like that, pobrecita?” he kept a relentless pace, jack hammering into you from behind. “You never tell me what you like…” he grunted appraisingly.

Your eyelids fluttered shut of their own volition as the silvery thread of arousal coursed through your veins fluidly. This can’t be happening, your mind stuttered, attempting to divorce yourself from the powerful sensations ebbing through your body. You prided yourself on your professionalism, but quite honestly, you didn’t get into this career for…sex. Most of the men that came to you were escaping a disappointing home life or were otherwise sexually unsuccessful, so their last concern was your pleasure, and that was fine for you. No reason you needed to be vulnerable in the workplace. The money was compensation enough and you could pleasure yourself on your own time. But Javier Pena wasn’t a regular guy, and when it came to sex, he was actually good at it. He came for his own pleasure, but that included yours, and he was down to try anything. Honestly, it was just a matter of time, but you had remained irresolute and focused up until now. And now, you were cumming.

The harder you tried to swat the idea away, the stronger the impulse grew. Small tendrils of pleasure that pulsed at your core, stuttered breaths that caught in your throat, whimpers of ecstasy that escaped from your mouth; Javier was devouring it like a man starved.

“There she is…” he drawled, grabbing you by the throat and hoisting you backwards until your back was pressed against his sweat glistened chest. “Are you going to cum for me, hermosa?” he panted into your ear, as you shook your head slowly.

“No, no, no” you had dropped all pretense of performance, realizing your body seemed to be acting of its own accord. You dropped your hands to your clit, rubbing in quick circles now desperate to get off.

“Mine” Javier growled into your ear, grabbing your wrists and yanking them around his neck as he angled up into you, harder still. You cried out in anguished ecstasy, confused at the unbidden sensations tingling throughout your being.

“M-m-more…” you began to mumble incoherently, no longer concerned with the loss of control, and only focused on your pleasure and nothing else.

Javi tipped you forward violently, re-situating himself in a seated position, and then abruptly pulled you back onto his lap, pistoning up into you at the most  delectable angle. Your entire body seized up in a pre-orgasmic throb. He gripped you tightly, calloused fingers palming your breasts, kneading and pinching as all thought left your mind completely. You were a ray of light, pleasure itself, his heat sheathed inside you, piercing the darkness and eradicating everything else. You’re not even sure if you spoke out loud, but the primal awareness that you were cumming, clouded time itself, until there was no denying it anymore. You threw your head back against his shoulder and cried in a silent scream, softening into a guttural moan of euphoria. Your body was fluid, liquid gold, dripping and melting over his hard figure. He worked you through your release until you pulled at the nape of his neck, weak with overstimulation. He drew his palm down the front of your salt soaked body and then flipped you around in a tangle of arms and legs, nearly collapsing on top of you, lowering you to the bed.

In the dull recesses of your mind you felt the throb of embarrassment, but not yet cognizant enough to grasp it with any enthusiasm. Holding onto your cloud of your contentment, you were vaguely aware of Javi’s absence, assuming he had left the appropriate amount of money on the bed stand and made a quick exit. You felt your heat twitching and throbbing with the loss of his presence, but thankful he had left you to your own mortification. It had been so long since you felt comfortable enough to enjoy yourself with someone else, you were nearly shocked it was still possible. You swallowed dryly, blinking away the tears. Damn endorphins, you sniffled, freezing as a figure appeared in the doorway with a washcloth and water.

“Drink, hermosa” he commanded as your eyes widened to saucer shape. He was still here. Was he angry? Did you just lose your best customer, and this was the swan song? Appraising your silence he brought the glass of water up to your parched lips tentatively, eyeing you with slight concern. You started shivering slightly as your body attempted to regulate itself into normalcy. “Are you hurt?” he demanded, sitting on the edge of the bed and lifting you to a seated position so you could drink.

You shook your head slowly, devoid of intelligence as the tears began to dry on your cheeks stickily. You flinched with surprise as he began rubbing down your legs and mid-section with the washcloth. “Shh, shh…” he shushed, as though coddling a small child as your body relaxed with relief and exhaustion.

“You don’t have to do that, Javi” you muttered softly, grabbing his wrist gently, but as yet unable to meet his eyes.

“Porque, eso cuesta mas?” he pondered, a small smirk shadowing his countenance.

“I’m not charging you for tonight” you murmured, turning your head away from him in defeat, until you felt him reach around and draw your chin back towards him.

He drew his thumb across your lower lip, not saying a word, a pained expression pinching at his eyebrows unexpectedly. “Inestimable” he whispered, almost to himself, kissing you lightly on the lips and withdrawing to the bathroom. You sunk down on the bed, unsure of what might happen next. Your ears were still ringing from the high, and your body felt like a heavy weight drawing you further into the mattress. You heard the soft click as Javier shut off the lights and crawled into bed with you tentatively.

“Puedo quedarme un poco mas?” he paused, his body hovering above yours.

You bit your lower lip in the dark, pondering the uncharted territory. No one ever asked to stay. Should you charge for that? Your thoughts were becoming more muddled and your eyelids heavier still, as you wordlessly tucked your body into the crook of his side, huffing a small sigh of defeat. No more thinking. Just sleeping. Javi wrapped his arms around you, breathing deeply at the crown of your forehead. 

“Smell good” he mumbled into your hair, as you started to drift into darkened oblivion. He was rocking you ever so slightly, and you didn’t have the energy to make any arguments whatsoever. You hadn’t felt this content in a very long time.

Swallowing dryly, your eyes blinked into the sunlight, hearing the motorcycles putter to life in the streets, and the vendors selling Cafe Caribe for the morning commuters. You sat up abruptly, reaching sideways to feel the cool sheets under your fingertips, noticing the hundred dollar bill grinning at you from the bed side table. Next to it, you saw the small cardboard cup, steaming with the chocolate aroma of your morning cafecito, note scribbled hastily across it…

“Thanks for the f@ck, hermosa. See you next week”. The small heart drawn in the corner winked at you as you smiled to yourself.

You loved your job.

*thanks @samspenandsword for the dividers!

Pedro Boys

Pedge and I have FINALLY started writing fics for the Pedro Boys and we wanted to have a spot where they could all catch up! Check out the masterlist below!

Pedro Pascal Pedge Cuddle Couch New York, New York Series Baby's Beats (short) Javi Gutierrez Afterglow: Phoenix Rising Marcus Pike Charcuterie Challenge A Different Happy Ending Pike's Place Pike's Playlist (short)

Frankie Morales Moody Frankie Frankie's Favorites (short) Joel Miller Moody Joel Peach and Apple Pie Crime and Punishment Joel's Jives (short) Max Phillips Blood Sucking Witch Max's Mix (short) Javier Pena Afterglow Series Pena's Playlist (short) Dieter Bravo Yes Chef! My Darling Muse Dieter's Deets (short) Marcus Moreno Thanksgiving Delights Din Djarin Unmasked Platonic Love

Happy Birthday!

Ah, our beloved Joel just had a little birthday on the 26th and Tumblr is alight with his beautiful gifties! Pedge wants to give something back, does anyone need a little special attention from Joel Miller?

Pick your color scheme and occasion and Pedge and I are going to craft you a special greeting card! As always, Pedge is a self made man (if you count Bitmoji...). I'm going to keep this request open for the rest of the year for anyone who needs it!

Don't forget to include your color scheme and what occasion we are recognizing. It doesn't have to be one of celebration if you are experiencing a loss, or a bad day or just want a quickie (#ahem encouragement). Pedge is not opposed to sexy exhortations either. Ope, Pedge has already dusted off the crayons and scissors I better get back! PM me for a little pick me up!

Afterglow Series

I love the throw down as much as the next gal, but I love the "Afterglow" even more. Excited to attempt this sexy time experimentation, writing for some of the Pedro Boys with variety in shorter snippets. Wanted a therapeutic outlet for our great and not so great "O"'s. Mostly self-indulgent intimacy writing, though Pedge is VERY excited...

Phoenix Rising (Javi Edition) A Different Happy Ending (Marcus Pike Edition) Workplace Benefits (Javier Pena Edition)

The Audition:

This is Part Two of the New York, New York Series where I thought it would be fun to explore a realistic jaunt into the past. It's mostly self indulgent fluff, although just to be safe...

Triggers: fluff, lite smut at the end, saccharin sweet hand holding, alcohol consumption, descriptions of athletic (f) body, slight profanity, description of cigarettes, RPF re: Narcos audition

Lazily, you stretched your body like a cat, noticing your bedmate sprawled out next to you. Their pink button nose twitched with sensitivity as the morning light streamed in from the crusty window. You twisted your feet against the multi-colored quilt, blinking sleepily into the daylight. New York, New York. What a wonderful town.

Giving one final stretch you nuzzled your furry bedmate to happy purrs and biscuits and placed your feet on the cold wooden floor, padding down the hallway of your Airbnb. Standing at the kitchen counter you prepared the small metal espresso pot, cracking your joints noisily. Rehearsals had been a dream, but the wear and tear of New York foot traffic was nothing to scoff at. You’d met your creative team, perused the show sketches, started choreography, fell in love with your cast mates and moved into Ripley Grier. You’d even memorized the sketchy subway patterns and Thai Food take out locations, but you hadn’t done one thing.

Bumped into Mr. New York.

You licked your lips in anticipation as the espresso pot boiled in front of you. Pedro.

Pedge.

He seemed like more of a Pedge. Your guardian angel. That bumpy landing followed by a whirlwind arrival had almost completely derailed you in a New York minute, but something about those swirling orbs of chocolate-eyed concern had stuck with you. In a city that never sleeps it seemed almost ludicrous that you’d bump into him again. The cat delicately wrangled itself through your poised ankles as you poured a steaming cup of liquid energy into a chipped cup. But in the Big Apple, you smirked, anything can happen.

After two weeks of rehearsals things were going well, but they’d sent you further downtown for your final costume fitting and you had NO idea where you were going. The bustling underbelly of the New York subway system still had a certain romanticized grime, but WHY were you always lost? You nearly tripped over a discarded scarf and elbowed your way to the approaching train as your hair blew back in surprise at its gust of wind. Allowing the sea of humanity to exit you merged with the entering crowd and took your place, eyeing the suspiciously sticky puddle to the left of your feet. Assume the position; wide stance. Gripping the pole with one hand you took a deep breath and…there he was.

Face contorted in focused concentration and holding a nearly empty Venti Iced Starbucks Cup, along with loose leaflet pages, an iPod, phone and wallet. You smiled nervously, attempting to hone your skills of telepathy. If New York had taught you one thing it was to immediately seize every opportunity that presented itself, because the Big Apple waits for no one. You slid your way through a barrage of annoyed faces till your belly button was positioned nearly in front of his nose. You cleared your throat, but he remained buried in his concentration amidst the metallic, humming atmosphere. A busker began singing “Falling Slowly” and for one horrifying moment you considered disappearing into the masses, but noticing the large print on his cup, your curiosity got the better of you.

“Brown Eyes???!!!!” you exclaimed as his eyes darted up to your face with surprise. Dropping his pages on the subway floor, you nearly bumped heads trying to pick them up as a headphone now dangled unceremoniously, twisting in the air.

“J!” he smiled, brightening up the entire car as it slowed to a halt with a grinding crash. Having forgotten your wide stance, you nearly fell over backwards as he grabbed you by the front of your shirt and awkwardly pulled you onto his lap.

“Oops!” he blushed, pulling the other headphone out and beaming. “I wondered when I would see you again, how are rehearsals?”

Having temporarily forgotten your name and all manner of information you took quick note of the stubble dotting his chin and scent of something woodsy. Clearing your throat you stood up shakily, attempting to press your shirt down unsuccessfully. “It’s going great Pedge!”

…oops…

“Er…can I call you Pedge?” New York City: One, J: Zero.

“Of course!” he shouted patting the open seat next to him. Plopping down, your eyes took in the sides he was holding in his hand.

“Narcos” you nodded “intriguing”.

“Oh” he deflated a bit, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, I got a callback for tomorrow, but I can’t even get arrested, even after the…thing..” he lowered his voice conspiratorially, whispering into your ear, eliciting a small shiver.

“Well good, Narcos are supposed to arrest people, not the other way around” you joked. “Unless you’re playing a bad guy? What’s the scene?”

He chuckled light-heartedly handing over the pages, “It’s not the dialogue I’m worried about.”

Your eyes widened like saucers reading the lurid description:

Javier Pena and Helena are fucking on the living room couch. Liquor bottles and cigarettes sit in the foreground as the camera pans to their naked bodies. Javier finishes quickly, and eventually lays back on the couch to light a cigarette.

YOU nearly dropped the pages this time, reddening in embarrassment. “Are you playing Helena?” you coughed, watching his eyes sparkle before you.

“No, they said my tits were too small” he pouted, taking the pages back and smirking mischievously. You pursed your lips, attempting to hold back a laugh. Saucy devil.

“I mean, this is probably nothing compared to..the thing…” you repeated, referencing his recent GOT gig.

“It’s true, we had lots of nudity in that one” he agreed. “I’m pretty okay with it as long as I check with my scene partner, but this feels different somehow…” he trailed off.

“It feels more intimate” you surmised.

He winked, rolling the pages into a funnel and chewing his lip.

“They really should have somebody on-site to consult for intimacy scenes” you pondered. “I know I'm preaching to the choir here, but it’s about a lot more than just stripping and calling ‘action’! I’m never quite sure how to handle those auditions myself…”.

He nodded, bumping your knee with his and sipping down the final dregs of his espresso.

“Particularly with coffee…no wonder you’re so wired!” you pinched his knee sardonically as he crumpled with embarrassment.

“A man’s gotta eat” he huffed, pausing to think. “Wanna grab lunch?”

You’d never played hooky in NY, but your costume fitting wasn’t for another hour and Pedro pulled you through the epicenter of Times Square as you dodged a mostly Naked Cowboy and a dubious looking…Elmo? You tilted your head upwards, taking in the large marquis signs and towering hotels. “God, I hate Times Square” he muttered under his breath, weaving precariously through the tourists and tchotchke shops featuring every manner of “I Heart NY”.

“Shake Shack okay?” he nearly shouted into your face, gripping your hand tightly and moving forward at a breakneck pace.

“Sure!” you exclaimed, unsure of its significance, but excited to feel the vibe of the city. You could feel the pulse of his hand gripping yours, noticing a small tattoo in the crook by his thumb.

“It’s like “In and Out!” he retorted, “but even better! I know….sacrilege. You’ll thank me later, I promise…” whisking the door open and nearly shoving you inside. The rest of the day was a blur as one hour became two and two became four. You both raced into the costume fitting, still holding hands and giggling like kids. The repetition of the sewing machines and office talk immediately silenced you, as you made bee line for the fabulous individual wrapped in measuring tape and bright pink feathers.

“Darling, you’re 30 minutes late” they dead panned, eyeing you up and down suspiciously.

“I know I’m so sorry! I get lost everywhere I go! Is there still time for the fitting?” you panted, biting your lip apologetically.

“Come with me to the dressing room” they breezed past you with newfound amibition. “Your boyfriend can sit in the waiting area…”.

You gulped loudly, dropping Pedge’s hand with embarrassment. You looked over at him as he made a funny face. “Looks like I got the part” he chided, bopping you on the head with the Narcos sides and placing his hand on your lower back.

You felt your body temperature raise slightly as you headed into the backroom. Stepping into the curtained area you gawked at the gorgeous, red sequined dress hanging in front of you. Running your hands over the material you quickly ascertained its functionality. Breathable. Moveable. Wait, a minute. This plunging neckline was a bit too…plunging, as in, all the way downtown. Hmmm…Unable to reach the zipper in the back your eyes widened in concern.

“Move it or lose it honey!” the seamstress yelled, drawing the curtains back theatrically. “Let’s see what God gave ya!”. They pulled you into the center of the room as Pedge’s mouth dropped open in surprise.

Your black laced bra was fully visible through the non-existent front panel, and that one freckle on your butt cheek peeked out from the unzipped back portion.

“Sold” Pedge whispered with a graveled undertone, as the the seamstress arched a well manicured eyebrow to high heaven.

“Well that’s one way to sell tickets” they joked, yanking the zipper closed in the back as Pedge’s eyes darkened seductively. He cleared his throat, shifting with discomfort in the seat, and readjusting his pants with one hand.

“Looks good to me” he piped up, giving you a wink and twisting his mouth comedically.

“Thanks, boyfriend” you smirked, hoping your tits weren’t pointing directly through the fabric.

You floated through the rest of the afternoon in a dreamy hazy. They had released you from the day of rehearsal and Pedge convinced you to take a stroll in Central Park. Cyclists and kids dotted the hillside, and you couldn’t help but notice your hands seemed to brush together a lot in passing. Grabbing some ice cream from a nearby cart you found yourself uptown near the Metropolitan Museum of Art. About to step foot into the crosswalk a horse drawn carriage nearly bulldozed over you, as Pedge grabbed you around the waist protectively.

“We’re walking here!” he shouted, flipping the man off, and holding on to you a bit longer than was necessary. “You okay?” he asked, reaching up to wipe the ice cream remnants from the corner of your mouth.

“Never better” you smiled, lifting one foot slightly off the ground.

Meg Ryan, eat your heart out.

Pedge grabbed your hand as you walked into the massive, echoing chambers of the Met, grabbing your audio guide and museum map. “I prefer the Guggenheim, but the Met is unreal” Pedge beamed, ushering you into the Egyptian room with pride.

“I have decided…dat for the rest of the day…we are going to talk like dis” he whispered to you in front of the ceiling high paneled windows. “Waiter…”

“Waiter…” you smiled with acknowledgement.

“There is too much pepper on my paprikash…”.

You started giggling with delight until you both blurted out:

“But I would proud to partake of your pecan piiiiiiie!!!!”

Dissolving into fits of laughter you noticed a security guard clear their throat noisily in response.

“What, are we going to Katz's next?” you whispered clandestinely.

“I’ll have what she’s having” his voice dropped about an octave, grabbing you by the jean pocket and pulling every so slightly. Your breath hitched in your throat, noticing your close proximity. He didn’t break eye contact for so long you thought he might kiss you, but then he sighed heavily, dragging his hand across your abdomen. “Told you it was beautiful” he grinned, grabbing one of your fingers lightly and leading you through the open hall.

Sharing an audio guide, you were joined at the head, giggling in hushed overtones and pondering some of the classic art pieces. Walking into a room filled with ornate insignia and full bodied armor, Pedro twirled impressively, lunging forward with athleticism.

You took an embarrassed look around to make sure you weren’t catching unnecessary attention.

“I haven’t even told you anything about Croatia for GOT!” he exclaimed, a bit too loudly as you shushed him clandestinely. “There’s this scene for this MAJOR character that drives everyone nuts, and there’s an assassination attempt…” you covered his mouth with mouth hands smiling up into his face.

“Stawp!” I don’t even know the characters and you’re probably not allowed to talk about those details ya big goof!” you whispered, as he kept speaking in muffled tones into your hand. Darting his tongue across your palm you yelped with surprise. “Stawp!”

He grabbed your hand back and blew a stream of air over your fingers. “Do you want me to do a palm reading?” he asked, suddenly serious.

“Um, sure? Can you do that sort of thing?”

“Verrrrrry convincingly…” he joked, rubbing one finger down the epicenter of your hand. You shifted your weight tensely.

“I see an…interesting stranger in your future” he cocked one eyebrow up, bemused.

You rolled your eyes, poking him in the sternum as he chuckled. “What about money?” you pointedly asked, placing your other hand on your hip.

He closed his eyes dramatically, humming under his breath. You waited with anticipation, moving slightly closer, feeling the heat emanating off of his body. He brought your hand up to his forehead with bravado, “Zoltarrrr sayssss….actors never make…moneeeeeey” he chanted, opening his eyes to find you mere inches from his face. “Hi” he whispered, pressing his thumb into your palm and bringing it down to your side.

“I suppose there are things worth more than money” you mused, completely transfixed by his pouty lower lip. Watching his Adam’s Apple bob in his throat hungrily, you reached up and placed a hand to his neck feeling his feathery pulse intensify with the closeness.

“Nah” he broke the tension with a wide smile, giving you a quick peck at the corner of your mouth and running away like a kid in a candy store.

You stood with your mouth agape, beaming from ear to ear. Ah, the culture of art.

“Sick of me yet?” he questioned, caging you in against the vibrating subway door.

“Hardly” you yelled, covering your mouth in immediate embarrassment. “But what about your callback?”

His face registered slight shock for a millisecond, remembering the day’s events, and then shrugging his shoulders. “Eh, I’ll probably call my agent and bail. I don’t think I’ve got a shot in hell…” he reasoned.

“Nonsense!” you retorted. “I’m putting you to work immediately! You’re still in Brooklyn, right? We can grab some Thai and run your lines.” you tipped forward slightly with an unexpected bump, nearly brushing lips.

Pedge’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “You’re not gonna give me a line-reading are you?” he teased, pinching your chin lightly.

“Only if you suck” you wrapped your fingers around his wrist playfully. “I generally ask for compensation via foot massages”. Pedge glanced down at your feet with curiosity. “I think that can be arranged.”

“I haven’t…laughed this hard in years…” you wheezed, attempting to balance the Thai Food, wine and Pedge up four flights of stairs. Pedro dropped the keys in front of his apartment as you finally doubled over in laughter, tears streaming down your face.

“Stawp, stawp!” you pleaded, holding your stomach. “You’re gonna make me peeeee….”.

“Absolutely not!” he bellowed. “My landlord will fine me for that!” he burst into the apartment, trying to drag you over the threshold amidst your gasps for air.

“We haven’t even started drinking yet…” you barely managed to get out, crawling down the hallway to what seemed like the bathroom. Returning to the kitchen a few moments later, Pedge had grabbed some paper plates and opened the two buck chuck.

“Bon appetite!” he smiled gesturing broadly to the delightful spread as you took in the meager New York residence.

“Very bachelor pad” you teased, poking him in the ribs and gazing at the futon, clothes rack and piled books. “Okay Mr. Bibliophile” you observed, catching the titles of “The Color Purple”, “Meisner On Acting” and an art book on Rousseau.

“It’s no Versailles, but it’s home” he grinned, taking a large bite out of the crab rangoon.

Inhaling your Thai Food, you were already two glasses of red wine in, and had to remind yourself to slow down. You were just having so much fun, talking about character development and fighting over the last spring roll.

“Do I have to goooo tomorrow?” he whined, plopping down on the couch with faux theatrics. “Couldn’t we just…go to another museum? Oooh, have you ever been to Lincoln Center? Or Sardis?”

“No, no, no” you laughed, sitting opposite him on the couch and gazing intently into his eyes. “Do you think you have it memorized yet?”.

He turned his body to face yours, returning the intensity of your focus. “It’s not like there was a lot of dialogue” he reminded, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear tenderly. You swallowed dryly, feeling the happy effects of the wine buzzing around in your head. Curling your legs underneath you and resting your hands definitively on his quads you lectured.

“As you know, film and television has a much more intimate intensity than the performative styles of the theater…”

His eyes widened with acknowledgement “Thank you Professor J…”.

“Shuddup!” you giggled, continuing. “The most important thing you can do to maintain emotional intimacy for the camera is body language, communication and eye contact…” you informed, licking your lips and concentrating on his.

“Is that so?” he leaned in, returning your gaze and starting the scene.

“We get better every time we practice” he placed his arms on either side of your legs, moving in closer.

“You’re amazing Javier” you drolled, smirking sardonically.

“Well, don’t go overboard” his eyes darted down to your wine stained lips as you tipped backwards onto the couch.

“What you’re missing in this apartment is a woman” you teased, pulling him gently forward and straddling his torso with your knees.

“It’s fine the way it is” he rasped moving his head down to your sternum and placing a small chaste kiss across your midriff.

“Good…blocking” you managed to whisper. “Improvisation is…essential” you ran your fingers through his hair gently.

“What are you doing this weekend?” he intoned into your chest, now nibbling at your solar plexus.

Your breath came in shallow bursts, as you tried to remember your lines. “Uh….work or play?” you muttered, as the lines between lines blurred hazily.

“Ven aqui” he looked up, drawing his hands up the sides of your body slowly and pausing to cup the back of your neck.

“What?”

“Dame un beso” he drew one finger across your lower lip seductively, resting his body weight carefully atop you.

“I think that’s my line” you sighed.

Time seemed to stand still as you both held the moment, intently.

“I think tomorrow…you have a very good chance…” you smiled.

Moody Pedge

Mood Boards are something new I'm trying for those literary moments I want to do a shout out or a quick vibe of Pedro Fun! Pedge is obviously a self-made man but I haven't had the heart to tell him that Bitmoji is also involved. He might be moody, but chocolate chip cookies always seem to regulate him...

Rainy Day Moody Dieter Moody Pena Moody Joel Moody Javi Moody Frankie Moody Marcus Moody Max Moody Dave Moody Silva Moody Acacius Moody Moreno Moody Mom Moody Oberyn Moody Maxwell Moody Dio Moody Lucien Moody Bi Moody Whiskey Moody SNL Moody Met Moody Rockford Moody Thespian Moody SAG Awards Moody Fall Moody Witch Moody Ricky Moody Gladiator Moody Nathan Moody Zodiac (Dieter style) Moody Pirate Pedge (Halloween short) Moody Thanksgiving Moody Fink Moody Theater Moody Superbowl

Writers, please feel free to use any of these mood boards for inspiration! Just give me a tag so I can read your AMAZING fics! Let's get writing!

Hey beauties! Welcome to Pedge's World, our little corner of the digital universe where healing, freedom and chocolate chip cookies reign supreme! Pedge helps me sort through all of my sad, sexy, angry, euphoric, hungry, cranky, spiritual, creative moods! I hope you will join us! 18+, no minors!

Sexy Series Masterlist (RPF)

Let's Stick Together!

Art Projects Dieter's Art Studio; My Darling Muse

Afterglow Series Dead Dove December; The Deepest Cut

Pedge's Campsite

Fun With Mood Boards!

Pedro Boys

Pedro Posts, Polls and Prompts

Pedge's Juke Box

Pedge Tweets!

Pedge's Bookshop

Pedge's Cinema

Good Girl Gone Bad (Javier Peña x Reader)

A/N: Heyyy, another Javier Peña thristy fanfiction for you!!! Now heads up for initial details I noted people appreciate:

Word count: 4.3K

Disclaimers: it’s a female Reader x Javier story, +18 (very explicit scenes ahead guys) 🌶️🔥👄💦, unprotected p in v, tinges of sub Javi and breeding kink!!!

When you see this “-0-”, I recommend you to put “Ride or Die, Pt. 2” by Sevdaliza, Villano Antillano and Tokischa for ambiance purpose!!!

Please let me know if you enjoyed it, likes and reblogs are very much appreciated and also encourage me to keep writing (if you like my writing ofc 😅)

Enough said: Enjoy your reading!!!

Javier seized the burning sensation from the freshly brewed coffee down his throat as he took a big gulp from his mug, as if the bitter liquid was going to turn off his mind from all the work he had to do for at least a few seconds. His eyes scanned the big piles of files around him, the full ashtray almost falling off the front border of his table and next to the telephone he’d left off the receiver on purpose.

DEA staff ran up and down their office talking on the phone, receiving and printing new information from loud fax machines, typewriters keys clicking annoyingly loud, both English and Spanish being spoken all the time. For an ordinary person who wasn’t used to such a busy dynamic it was a maddening environment itself, not to mention the main part of their job, which was chasing after narcos.

Javier knew all their faces and names, but he was under such stress he just didn’t care to engage in any kind of small talk conversations with his coworkers anymore, and day after day he understood the wallflower that sat in the farthest corner of the office, just doing her job like a horse on a winker.

He knew she worked there for a while now, but all the knowledge he had about her was her name and that she was a great investigator. She was so quiet the only times he’d heard her voice was when someone greeted her and she greeted them back. At first Javier thought she was a weirdo, but now not only he admired her invisibility and discretion, but also understood why she wanted to be left in peace in a corner just doing her job.

The fact that she was a beautiful woman didn’t go unnoticed by him of course, even without ever seeing her smile, but she kept herself shut to any contact with anyone in that place he just didn’t dare to bother the peace she seemed to hold and he envied so much.

Sadly his position in the DEA didn’t allow him to have that luxury, after all, he was The Javier Peña.

Hours flew by and by the time Javier broke his attention away from the files in front of him, he realized it was dark outside and he was alone in the building again.

He knew he still had endless work to do for the day, but he’d had enough, his head would explode if he spent another night in that office, he needed to leave and blow off some steam.

“Fuck this shit”

-0-

Grabbing his car keys, Javier left the empty DEA office and drove mindlessly around the city looking for the first place that would grab his attention enough to drag him inside.

Tonight he wasn’t looking for a hooker to spend a few hours by his side, if he wanted that he’d just head home and call one of his contacts and get it over with.

He wanted something different, something cheerful and with heavy drinks, he desperately needed to forget his job and all the shit he had to deal with everyday just for a few hours.

A club with big pink neon lights adorning its name caught his attention as he parked his vehicle on the side of the street, the loud reggaeton beats coming from the inside drawing him in as he made his way to the entrance.

Just as he stepped inside he was swallowed by a sea of sweaty and drunken people dancing, twerking, grinding on each other, hands all over the place, allowing the sensual and captivating beat to take over their bodies and desires.

It was perfect for what Javier needed at that moment.

He made his way through the crowd to one of the bars, checking out a few asses on his way there, feeling more comfortable and confident as he received some flirtatious glances in his direction.

With an ice cold beer in hand he checked out the dance floor in front of him once again, but this time a woman in a dark pink skin tight dress caught his attention. He hadn’t seen her face yet as she had her back turned in his direction, but the way she swayed her hips and how that tantalizingly short dress hugged her body in all the right places made his mouth water at the sight. He couldn’t help but wonder how she would look like moving like that on his dick, riding him in a reverse cowgirl position with that juicy ass and bouncy hips. The thought alone made his jeans feel tighter on himself.

Javier took a larger gulp of his beer as he got ready to approach her, ready to use all of his charm and unfailing game with women in hopes to be the one to take her home tonight.

But as soon as she turned in his direction, his jaw dropped when he realized the woman he was lusting on was the wallflower from the DEA, the one that no one knew nothing about other than her name and the info on her files, held a naughty smile on her face as she danced in the most provocative way possible, dragging not only Javier’s but many other men’s attention, and she knew it, she meant it.

Every now and then men tried to approach her to dance with her and maybe get a little taste, but she ditched them all gracefully. She didn’t want them. She wanted to feel desired and lusted on, but for her the real fun was in taking the candy out of their mouths, which was drawing them in like a mermaid, to then ditch them off like nothing.

The new discovery only encouraged Javier to take his shot with her. He was well aware that working with her could be both a leverage or a weakness, and there was only way he could find out.

She hadn’t seen him yet, the dim and colorful flickering lights over her didn’t allow her to see faces clearly from a certain distance, so he used that to watch her, waiting for the perfect window to go after her.

And just as she left the dance floor to the bar at the other side of the club the window was open.

“Good girl only during business hours?” Javier purred in her right ear just as she rested her forearms on the counter.

He didn’t miss the way his low voice caused goosebumps on her skin, the thin hairs on her arms standing immediately as he got by her side on the counter, waiting for her answer as she displayed a sly smirk on her plush lips.

“What makes you think I’m not a good girl full time?” She batted her eyelashes, a challenging glimmer in her orbs as her eyes traveled from his brown ones to his mouth, watching him lick his lips for a second as he seemed to get lost in his sinful thoughts for a moment.

Taking him off guard, she rested her right hand on his chest and slid her index finger over the first sets of buttons of his cream shirt, opening the them skillfully in a swift motion, revelaving part of his tanned and smooth chest, the light touch of her fingertip being enough to make his heart race.

“I like you better that way” The playful smirk never leaving her lips “Charming”

“Charming enough to buy you a drink?”

“I like shots better”

Javier was now by her side, right elbow propped on the counter as he signaled the bartender for two shots of tequila. He put two shot glasses in front of them along with a salt cellar and served them a small plate with pieces of lime, producing the bottle containing the golden liquid for last.

“Leave the bottle” He demanded just as the bartender finished filling the glasses.

They put salt on their hands, licked it and downed their first shot, the section of lime coming right after to soothe the bitter oaky punch, the alcohol instantly warming up their bodies.

“How did you find me here?” She asked, running her thumb in the corner of her lips to clean off the excess of lime juice.

“Are you upset about that, cariño?”

He faked a pout.

“Well…” She paused, pretending to be thinking deeply about the answer “I’m actually glad you found me”

“Is that so? Mind telling me why?”

“If you play my cards right, might as well show you” She teased him, pouring them another round of tequila.

“Then teach me how to play them”

They took their second round of tequila, but this time their eyes never broke their contact, a silent dispute of power between them, hunters hunting one another, testing each other to see how far their teasing would go, who would lose the battle and give in first.

Javier was both amused and tempted.

Amused because he still couldn’t believe that in front of him, challenging him, was the shy reserved woman from the DEA, claws out and ready to attack.

Tempted because she was the temptation herself. But Javier was a competitive man and he wasn’t going down without a fight.

“Do you dance, Mr. Peña?”

“Javi” He corrected “You’ll have to find out by yourself”

“I’ll take my chances”

She winked and handed him another shot, both of them sinking it fast, the spicy-woody liquid didn’t even burn their throats anymore as their bodies already felt like in flames, not only from the alcohol, but also from the heated exchange between them as every second, every word, every glance felt like electric shocks, like adding fuel to the fire.

Javier waited for her to give the next move as she sized him up, the smug look on her face making clear she had nothing but bad intentions in her mind, and oh boy how he wanted to get into her trouble.

“Come on”

She hooked her index finger in one of his pant’s belt loops and pulled him, the sudden move making Javier jolt forward, his body halting less than an inch away from hers, a dangerously short distance separating them as she watched amused his surprised reaction over her small stunt.

Colorful lights beamed over them as they were now in the middle of the dance floor, a loud song with heavily provocative beats and lyrics guiding their bodies, her arms resting loosely around his neck and one of his hands keeping her close by the end of her back as they danced together, their hips moving in sync, up close, almost intimate, but never brushing against each other, one of his legs strategically positioned between hers as they swayed sensually.

She slid one of her hands down his chest seductively, but this time, he was the one in control.

The hand on her back slid to her waist and spun her around, his hands now keeping her in place and practically locked against his body by her lower belly and waist, her ass now rolling irresistibly close to his crotch.

Javier loved how her skin reacted to the way he manhandled her, goosebumps all over as she bit her bottom lip and threw her head back, leaning against his shoulder as she let herself get lost in her own lustful thoughts for a moment, the suggestive lyrics only adding to her imagination.

Taking advantage of her exposed neck, Javier got intoxicated by her smell, the jasmine and warm notes of cocoa overpowered his senses as his lips traced the sensitive skin towards her ear, the light touch of his lips along with his mustache intensifying the goosebumps she still hadn’t recovered from yet.

“Am I up to your expectations?” He whispered in her ear, his lips moving just above her lobe. His teasing affected her more than she’d like to admit.

They lost track of the time they spent dancing together, teasingly of course, but also having a great time singing, laughing and smiling at each other.

Javier, who'd never seen her smile before that night, couldn’t take his eyes off her lips every time they curved upwards, revealing not only her beautiful lined teeth, but also the dimples on her glowing cheeks, lighting up her already cheerful face.

And again he caught himself admiring her, as they were now outside of the club. Javier stood leaning his back on his truck’s passenger door while she stood on his opposite side, leaning herself on the wall behind her.

A comfortable silence hung between them as he lit up a cigarette and she drank the last bottle of beer she got on their way out. Javier inhaled the smoke, enjoying the feel of the nicotine kicking in his system as he watched her take a gulp from the bottle, her lips wrapping around it softly as she reciprocated his gaze.

He wondered what her lips felt like, not only against his lips, but all over his body, plump and soft kissing him, caressing him, marking him, sucking him, the thought alone making his pants feel tight once again.

The sound of her heels clicking on the pavement took him out of his reverie as he now realized she was coming to him, slow and steady steps. She left the half empty bottle on his truck’s roof behind his head and then took the cigarette from his hands, bringing it to her own lips as she held it between her manicured nails.

And just as she leant on his vehicle by his side, he took his cue to leave his position and imprison her between his body and the truck, his arms hovering on each side of her head, the smug smile indicating she had him right where she wanted him to be: his body inches away from hers, the muscles on his arms twitching with the force he held onto the truck’s roof ledge, trying not to lose the last bit of restraint he still had.

She puffed the smoke out of her lips towards his, the simple yet enticing gesture making him snap and take the cigarette off her hands in a swift motion, throwing it away just as he crashed his lips against hers.

Their tongues met right away initiating an erotic dance, devouring each other, euphoria rushing through their veins as their teasing had finally reached its goal.

Javier cupped her jaw and pressed his body against hers urgently, the jolt against the truck making the beer bottle fall and shatter on the ground, the loud noise and green glass on the pavement not bothering them at all as she pulled the soft curls on his nape and grazed her teeth against his lower lip.

His big hands slid down her waist behind her and grabbed her ass cheeks, pulling her up and making her wrap her legs around him for support, her short dress rolling up to her hips leaving her almost half naked on the street.

Using the leverage he had with the position, Javier ground his raging erection trapped inside his jeans against her core, covered only by already drenched black lace panties, earning a strangled whimper from her.

Part of him wanted to just pull her panties aside and take her right there on the street against his truck, raw and rough. But the other part wanted to take his time with her, after all it would be a shame to just resume the last few hours of teasing in just a few minutes. And also, he didn’t know if he’d had another shot with her after they got back to their professional facades.

“Are we getting inside your truck or you want to give our audience explicit content?” She tilted her head, indicating the group of people next to the club’s door, a few curious eyes lingering, waiting for their next step “Either way I’m in”

“You’re mine only, at least for tonight” His teeth dug on the soft flesh of her neck as he fished the car keys in his back pocket “But as long as I can fuck you I’m into anything you want, bonita”

Javier put her down and opened the truck’s back door, revealing the brown leather cushion dimly illuminated by the street lights.

He let her in first and watched with hungry eyes the way she crawled inside the vehicle and then rolled her body upwards, resting her back on the other door only to then slide her panties down and off her legs, spreading them open in a seductive way, offering herself to Javier, who hurriedly got inside the truck and closed the door behind him.

He pulled her by her ankle and hovered over her, his gaze connecting deeply to hers as he fished the panties she’d dropped on the car floor and put them in his back pocket, the simple yet unexpected action arousing her even more.

Javier’s hand made its way to her nape, bringing her head up for a breathtaking and passionate kiss, their hungry tongues invading and exploring each other's mouth as her fingers slid down the buttons of his shirt, undoing them without breaking their kiss.

As they devoured each other frantically, her hands explored his broad chest and abs, enjoying the feeling of his soft golden skin under her digits and the way his muscles flexed with the thrusting movements he made every now and then, purposely grinding his clothed erection against her exposed core.

Their kiss got sloppy as Javier’s hand found its way down her body, feeling her soft breasts, the curve of her hips then down the smooth skin of her thigh and leg, hooking it on his back before his hand slid up her body again but this time, skipping no beat towards her intimacy.

Javier growled when he finally felt how wet she really was for him, her arousal coating his fingers sliding up and down her pussy in feather-like touches just to tease her.

Whimpering, she rolled her eyes and clawed his back under his shirt when he increased the pressure with his digits and traced tight circles against her needy clit, her whole body melting under him as it got overpowered by shameless waves of pleasure.

Drinking in her sexed expression, Javier slid a finger inside her wanting a bigger dose of satisfaction out of the intoxicating woman under him. The unexpected invasion of his thick

finger made her moan louder and arch her back against his body, which only encouraged him to add another one right after, stretching her further, her slick pussy clenching around his fingers in response.

She bit his shoulder as he finger fucked her, his fingers massaging the magic spongy spot inside her as his thumb roled lazy circles on her clit, making her nails drag angry scratch marks down his back while her other hand pressed hard on the leather backrest, nails desperately digging in it.

Javier trailed small nips and kisses along her collarbone and neck while his fingers kepting working on her, all of it adding to the building pleasure in her lower stomach, getting her closer and closer to bursting at each expert rub of his rough digits against her clit and g-spot.

But she didn’t want to come yet, much less in that submissive condition.

Fighting against her own urges, she pulled his hand out of her, bringing it to her lips to lick her own juices off his fingers, her dark orbs drawing him in as she sucked his fingers suggestively, swirling her tongue around them.

“Now sit” She commanded, cheeks still red and heart racing from his finger fucking “And take of your shirt”

She didn’t need to ask Javier twice for him to comply, he knew she was close on his fingers, and now he wanted to see and feel what she had in mind.

Just as he took his shirt off and straightened his back against the seat, she straddled him and pulled down the top half of her dress, exposing her breasts, hard perky nipples at his mouth’s level and he couldn’t help but to dive in.

Javier fondled and squeezed them hard with both hands before he took a mouthful of one of them, teeth grazing the hard bundle of nerves, then rolling and sucking in with his flat tongue, and then repeated the same stimulation on the other one, feasting on the soft mounds before him as she unfastened his belt and unbuttoned his jeans.

Catching up with her intentions, Javier lifted his hips from the seat, enough to take both pieces of clothes off, allowing her to undress him completely, all while he still delved into her breasts.

With his thick and hard manhood free, she spread his leaking precum over his tip with her thumb, tantalizing him before she finally took it and held it against her clit, rocking her hips back and forth, arching her back towards the front seat behind her and getting herself off against his shaft, her slick blending with his precum.

Javier broke apart from her chest to gaze down between them, his cock sliding easy against her drenched folds, teasing him shamelessly.

“Condom?” He asked, but only out of politeness.

“No” She leaned in, foreheads touching as she whispered against his lips “I wanna feel all of you”

Her answer got his cock impossibly harder and dying to feel her, and for his luck, she was also getting impatient.

Javier held his breath the moment she stopped her motions right when his tip was lined to her entrance, the thrill of anticipation of finally having her making his heart race faster as his hands flattened on her thighs.

“Tell me what you want” She demanded seductively, teasing his tip pressed against her opening, torturing him with slow rolls of her hips, threatening to slide down on him at any second.

“I want you, cariño” He gasped, chest heaving up and down.

“Yeah? And what do you want me to do with you?” One of her hands cupped his jaw and brought his lips close to hers, close enough to feel his ragged breath against hers.

“Ride me, bonita, I’m yours”

She placed a soft kiss against his lips before she leaned back between the front seats and placed her hand over her mound, fingers spreading her folds apart allowing him to have a full view of where his tip met her pussy, until she finally sank on his cock, her opening slowly welcoming and swallowing him in, his thickness stretching her walls each inch as his name came out of her lips in the sexiest moan he’d ever heard, and he swore that that scene alone was enough to make him cum.

But he needed to last, he needed to feel more of her, see her, have her, every detail in front of and on him, getting him terribly pussy drunk on her at each second as he felt their bodies merging and watched his cock disappear inside of her, her walls tightening around him in a slippery and warm embrace.

He threw his head back and rolled his eyes as she started to ride him at a deeply addictive pace, his fingertips digging in the flesh of her hips, pulling her harder down on him at each thrust forward.

“Eyes on me, Javi” Her command came out as a needy whine as her hand slid down his neck towards his shoulder, the skin slapping sounds getting louder as her bounces got harder.

Javier moved one of his hands to the back of her head, fingers tangling in the roots of her hair as he now thrusted his hips up to meet hers, the new and unexpected angle made her cry out his name again and dig her nails onto his shoulders, looking for an extra leverage.

He hooked his other arm on her lower back keeping her body against his, and the way she melted in his arms only made him keep on, thrusting harder and faster against her while she held onto him for her dear life.

Without disconnecting their bodies, Javier laid her on the backseat, eager to be the one fully in charge, especially because holding his release back was being a lot harder than usual.

One of his hands took support in the car’s windows, which was completely humid and foggy and entrentched with sex as he fucked her hard, her back arching and her walls tightening around him with her climax right around the corner.

She closed her eyes and moaned even louder as he put one of her legs over his shoulder, the new angle allowing him to go even further, deeper and drive her into oblivion in record speed.

“Look at me when I’m fucking you” He demanded, bossy as the Javier Peña she was used to watch on duty, and that was the line for her to feel the knot on her lower belly snap hard, strong waves of white hot pleasure through her veins, making her cum hard and milk his cock looking deeply in his dark eyes.

The mesmerizing scene together with the clenching from her climax on his shaft also made him cum seconds after her, exploding inside her, his hot seed filling her in long spurts, the feeling of his dick throbbing inside her riding her high for a few extra seconds before they collapsed, the hand on the car window leaving a wet trail as it lazily slid down.

She moaned when he finally pulled out, instantly missing him inside her as he carefully took her in his arms and laid next to her, nestling her body against his, both their breathings and heart beats still racing fast.

“We have a problem now” He muttered looking at the car’s ceiling.

“What?” Her answer was low and unconcerned, too fucked out to care about anything at that moment.

“Office hours are gonna be challenging from now on.”

Blue Jeans (Javier Peña x Reader)

“I’m leaving, Javi”

It was all you said when he picked up the phone. You didn’t give him the chance to say anything, you hung up and felt two warm tears roll down your cheeks as you admired the city view for the last time from the bedroom’s balcony.

Drying your tears, you finished packing your suitcase, not bothering with how crumpled your clothes would look like when you unpacked, just wanting to get everything over with before you lost your strength to leave him once and for all.

You still remember the night you met him, how your whole body shivered when your eyes connected to his while he smoked one of his cigarettes, checking you out shamelessly as you looked terribly hot for a night out with your friends.

And from that day on, you just couldn’t keep your hands off each other. You just got terribly addicted to how his lips kissed yours, how he pulled your hair making you look at your sexed faces in his bathroom’s mirror while he drove you to oblivion, how his hips moved to meet yours when you were riding him, how he filled you completely giving you the best orgasms you could ever dream of, how his big, rough fingers sank on the sensitive flesh on your hips.

But that’s the only aspect of your relationship that actually worked.

When you were together, if you were not devouring each other, you were fighting each other. Heated fights and arguments, insulting each other with words that couldn’t be taken back, breaking your heart and his.

It was no mystery to you, Javier, and the people around you, that you were a disaster as a couple, the definition of toxic, and yet, you just couldn’t give an end to it. You couldn’t leave him and he couldn’t leave you. Despite everything, you loved each other deeply, intensely, and it wasn't just because of the amazing sex.

For some reason you didn’t work. Maybe in another life you could meet each other again and make it work in a healthy way, but you were just so deep in all the shit you’ve been through you just couldn’t fix it anymore, it was eating you alive.

And after another night of heated fights you decided to finally grab your stuff from his house and leave him, leave the city, leave Colombia. Everything there reminded you of him, and you knew you couldn’t bear to live without him having to be reminded 24/7 by everything around you how happy (and miserable) you were with him.

The beautiful sunsets you watched together, the bars and clubs you used to go on wild nights out with him, the dark alleys he used to take you to after one of those nights because he wanted you so bad he couldn’t wait a few blocks walk to his place.

You felt a lump forming on your throat as you zipped your suitcase with trembling fingers, tears falling heavily now with the realization that it was really the end of the road for the two of you.

“Don’t do this to me, nena”

Your whole body froze as you heard his low voice behind you. You turned to look at him, only to meet a pair of defeated and tired brown eyes, hands on his hips, eyes darting from you to your suitcase and back.

He couldn’t let you go. Not when you were the only moments of happiness among all the traumatizing events he had to live everyday on his job. You were his love, his favorite, his warm safe place, his motivation to survive and go home at one piece everyday. Yes, he was well aware about the train wreck you two were, but he would rather live a daily train wreck than live with no train at all in his life.

“Bonita, please” He closed the space between you, cupping your cheeks with his big hands, his fingers drying the tears away as his desperate eyes connected with yours.

“We can’t do this anymore, Javi” You tried in vain to swallow the lump in your throat “We’re too intense and too toxic to work”

The mixture of longing, hurt and despair in his brown eyes felt like you’d been stabbed on the stomach. It hurt you to see how much you were hurting him.

“Do you love me?” His question came out softly in a whisper.

“I love you so much it hurts… The moment I laid my eyes on you I knew you were the love of my life, Javier”

“You’re the love of my life too, mi amor” He brought your lips to meet his in a soft kiss “Don’t do this to us, don’t leave me, please” He pleaded softly, whispering against your lips “We’ll fix this, I promise”

“Javi…” You tried to protest, but you knew you couldn’t leave him, you couldn’t live anywhere else if you left your heart in Colombia with the most charming and handsome agent who had stolen your heart and rocked your world from day one.

“Listen to me, you’ll unpack your things, we’re gonna talk about how we’re working on fixing our issues, we’ll probably argue at some point but I don’t care and we’ll finish up our night with the most amazing make up sex we’ve ever dreamed of, you hear me?” The demanding tone on his voice sparkled something you knew all too well in your core. You loved when he was bossy and suddenly you forgot you were just having a moment.

“Yes”

“Good” He took a step back to give you some space to unpack. But you stopped him, keeping him in place by the dark tie he was wearing, making him look incredibly hotter than usual. Fucking irresistable.

“How about we skip to the last part first?” Your fingers strummed up the tie, pulling it a little harder when you reached close to his neck, like you were holding him on a leash, Javier hissing with the unexpected move.

“Thirsty already?” He teased, his index finger traced your jaw until it reached under your chin, where he pushed up slightly, shortening the distance between your lips, but never connecting them.

“For you? Siempre”

Without breaking eye contact with him, you started to unbutton his shirt in a slowly tantalizing way, your fingers brushing ever so lightly on his chest and abdomen, watching the hunger and the urgency grow in his brown orbs.

Once you were done with the buttons, you kept the tie on his neck as you slid the white shirt off his broad shoulders and down his arms, reveling in the sight in front of you, his muscles well defined under that perfectly soft and sun kissed skin.

Javier kept perfectly still, watching you as he let you explore and cherish his body at your own will, shivering under your fingertips as they traced their way down his belt, while your tongue now licked its way up his neck from his collarbone, sucking the skin right under his earlobe.

Your hands slipped past his leather belt and palmed the thick, hard erection strained by his dark blue pants, making him jerk in your hands searching for more stimulation.

“Shhh… I’ll decide when to touch it, okay?” You whispered against his neck, but he chuckled devilishly in response.

“You know that in just a few I’ll make you regret the teasing, don’t you?”

“So the more I tease the more you’ll punish me?” You asked, looking him in the eye as you squeezed his length in defiance.

“You’re walking on thin ice here, bonita…” He snarled as you unbuckled his belt and trailed wet kisses down his chest and abs, your teeth scraping on the sensitive skin below his navel, your fingers hooking on the hemline of his pants and underwear as you got on your knees and looked him deeply in the eye.

You pulled down his underwear along with his pants, his dick springing free in its full glory in front you, your mouth watering at the sight.

You held his manhood with your dominant hand lifting it slightly upwards as you licked a straight line, tong flattened, from the base of his shaft to the tip, swirling lazily your tongue around it, the tip of your tongue playing in the sensitive spot right below the tip, making him hiss and thrust his hips, the tantalizing stimulation driving him insane.

Taking him in your mouth, you bobbed your head still agonizingly slowly, taking him deeper at each bob, sucking him, the friction caused by the suction of your cheeks causing him to grit his teeth and throw his head back in a failed attempt to keep the beautiful sound of a moan to come out of his mouth, only to turn it into a grunt that encouraged you to keep on doing your own teasing.

Straining against your gag reflex you took him deeper into your throat, your nose now touching his pubic area as he now watched you again, eyes dark with lust as you managed to fit all his length.

“You look so pretty with your lips around my dick” He ran his fingers between your hair, until he came to a stop in your nape, where he tangled his fingers in the hair in the back of your head and kept you in place, making you choke on his manhood, the sound of your choking throat sending strong electric waves through his body.

Javier pulled your head back slowly, watching his dick slide out of your mouth, all slick and wet, two thin strings of saliva still connecting your lips to his head as he was now completely out of you.

“So. Fucking. Beautiful” He admired your face as his thumb traced your swollen lips also slick with saliva. You were still kneeled before him, like a slave before their master, your eyes glimmering at the sight of him, his hard manhood, his perfectly chiseled body, damp strands sticking on the sweat on his forehead.

“Now get up and take your clothes off” He commanded, his voice leaving no room for sassiness.

He stepped out of his underwear and pants and loosened his tie as you turned your back to him and let the straps of your dress slide down your arms, then proceeded to bend forwards as you shimmied in a seductive way to take off the rest of the dress along with your underwear.

You looked back at him over your shoulders, taking a last step closer to the bed while he walked towards you slowly, a devilish grin on his lips as he toyed with the tie in his hands.

You turned back and kept your head straight ahead as you positioned your hands behind your back thinking he was about to tie you.

However, Javier had other plans.

Ignoring the hands you’d offered him with a low chuckle, Javier passed his arms over your head and put the tie over your lips.

“Open your mouth”

You did as he instructed and he proceeded to gag you with the tie, tying it in the back of your head. The saliva that came through your inner cheeks and tongue instantly wetting the fabric between your teeth.

“Turn” He commanded once again, you obeyed immediately, meeting the smirk on his face, satisfied with the work he’d done gagging you “Good girl… Now get on the bed”

You heard the clinking sound of his belt’s buckle as you climbed and layed on the bed, your back resting on the pile of white pillows by the wooden headboard, your eyes trained on him, curious to see what he would do with the belt on his hands.

Javier took both your wrists and brought them towards the headboard, fastening them together with one of the wooden poles on the headboard with the belt, its leather lightly biting on the thin skin of your wrists.

Gagged and tied up. The realization got you even more aroused than you were before, making you squeeze your thighs against each other in a vain attempt to feel the slightest relief on your needy core.

“No no” He held you by one of your calves, stopping your useless movements “You’ll be given pleasure only when I decide to, you understand?”

Since you couldn’t speak, all you did was nod in agreement as he got on the bed hovering over you. Javier caressed your cheeks lovingly as your eyes connected once again, making you feel hypnotized by the intensity in his dark orbs.

His lips met the sensitive skin of your neck with love bites and tickles from his mustache, leaving light bruises from under your earlobe to your clavicles, while his hands ran up and down your body, splitting your legs open but never touching where you wanted him the most, now fully positioning his body over yours.

He grind his hips against yours, creating a delicious friction on your core while he coated his cock in your arousal, making sure he’d tease you with each grind, the head of his shaft smearing your clit and our entrance, but never giving you what you craved for, which was his dick deep inside of you.

You thrust your hip, trying to angle it in a position in which he’d finally penetrate you, but well aware of your intent Javier bit your collarbone and held your hips down with just one of his hands.

“What did I just say, bonita?”

Your complaint sounded like a muffled whine with the tie between your teeth. You wanted him so badly.

He soothed the angry bite mark on your collarbone with his tongue, then trailed his kisses down the valley of your breasts. He scraped his teeth on one of your nipples earning a yelp of pleasure out of your gagged mouth, the sound encouraging him to revel in your breasts, nipping, licking, sucking, squeezing them in his hands.

You writhed under his work on your boobs, trying in vain to get free from his makeshift shackles, the sound of the buckle against the wooden pole shrieking loud, the skin of your wrists getting angrier due to the friction against the leather, and yet you didn’t care, every detail got you even more riled up as you arched your back, offering more of your already very exposed and explored chest.

Javier loved to see you like that, whining in pleasure, writhing under him, eyes closed shut as he watched you try uselessly to get more of him, to get the release you wanted so desperately.

His right hand traveled down your body, feeling every inch of soft skin from your waist to your calves, making sure to sink his digits into your thighs and ass in the process as he now nipped his way down your torso towards your heated center, his hands spreading your legs further apart, exposing the wet mess you’ve become, the slick already dripping on the white blanket underneath you.

“So wet you’re gonna make me drown, babe”

He spoke, his lips just inches away from your pussy, his hot breath against your core causing you to stir once again.

“I have one last thing to say before I start…” Javier brushed his index and middle fingers on your slit, collecting your juices around them “You won’t cum until I say so, si?”

He drew circles on your clit with his fingers, white hot pleasure running through your veins at the stimulation, your eyes rolled back as the knot on your lower stomach threatened to snap already.

“Won’t answer me?” He added pressure on his movements, forcing a reaction from you.

All you could do was let out a strangled moan since you couldn’t speak, but you both knew very well how hard it would be for you to follow that specific order. Javier loved to put you on edge, he was a master at doing so, and was already doing that.

“Good”

He withdrew his fingers and blew against your pussy, the hot air sending goosebumps through your body, and before you could recover from that, he ran his flat tongue over your intimacy, from your opening to your clit, swirling it with the tip of his tongue and then sucking it between his lips.

You struggled with the belt around your wrists, desperate to get free and to hold onto something, especially his soft hair as he reveled in your pussy, eating you out as a starved animal.

Javier put both your legs over his shoulders, pressing your hips down on the mattress to hold you in place and keep you from struggling.

“Tranquila, tranquila” He purred, his left hand now resting on your lower belly as his right one held your thigh.

He intensified his work on your pussy, his mustache tickling your clit as he tongue-fucked you, making the knot on your stomach barely impossible to keep from bursting.

Your toes curled and a loud whine left your lips as you bit the tie, trying to hold back your orgasm from snapping for as long as you could, but the final flick of his tongue on your clit made you melt on his mouth, your legs quivering over his shoulder as you felt those white hot electric waves of pleasure blind you.

And despite the order not to cum before he allowed you to, he kept drinking and eating out your high.

“Fuck baby, what did I tell you?” His voice was husky with lust as he licked your cum from his mustache.

Javier put his middle finger inside you, his digit immediately finding the squishy spot of pleasure that almost got you seeing stars again.

He added a second finger and started to thrust them in a “come here” motion, never neglecting the spongy spot, all while his thumb drew small circles on your clit.

You were still sensitive from your high and now, with the extra and new stimulation in such a short time, you were sure you’d die.

You were so numb and drunk on his work on you, you didn’t realize that he’d hovered over you again, one of his hands working on untying and taking the gag from your mouth while the other still worked on your pussy, and you could feel the knot on your stomach growing fast again.

“Javi!”

Was the first thing you screamed when he took the tie from your lips, the sound earning a low grunt from him as he now kissed your lips passionately.

You tasted yourself as your tongues swirled in an erotic dance, one of your hands tangled in his hair as the other slid down his body to palm his rock hard cock, spreading the precum leaking on his head over his length, making him moan against your lips and thrust into your hand.

The hand that was on your pussy held your wrist, keeping you from pumping him and put it over your head on the pillow as he positioned his body between your legs, the tip of his manhood now lining with your opening.

“Te amo tanto, no me dejes jamás…” He caressed your cheeks looking deep into your eyes, his lips brushing lightly over yours.

“También te amo…” Your confession was cut by the deep moan that came from your lips as he sunk his cock in you slowly, but deeply, filling you and stretching your walls completely as you rolled your eyes and sank your painted nails on his broad shoulders “Javi!”

Javier’s thrusts were hard and deep and rough, your nails clawed their way down his back as you became a moaning mess underneath him and one of his hands held you by the side of your neck to keep the eye contact between the two of you.

The knot on your lower stomach threatened to explode again and he didn’t miss the signs of your body, your back arching, the way you held onto him like your life depended on it, and mainly: the way your walls were squeezing around him, making it hard for himself to hold back. But he didn’t want it to be over just yet, he wanted more, more of you.

So he pulled himself out of you and manhandled you putting you on fours, giving you no time to adjust to the new position as he penetrated you again, sinking his fingers on your ass cheeks holding you in place as he pounded in and out of you, the position allowing him to go impossibly deeper at each thrust.

He slowed the rhythm of his thrusts as he leaned over you, trailing kisses from your back to your shoulders, his right hand sliding from your ass, then across your back towards your nape, to then tangle and lock his fingers in your hair, pulling you back harshly, getting you on your knees just like him, your back pressed against his chest and abs.

Javier increased the intensity of is thrusts again, holding you in place with one hand on your breasts and the other on your neck, forcing you to turn your face to the side so he could kiss you while he fucked you.

“Javi-” You called him, your voice coming out sluttier than you intended as you were terribly close to cumming once again, earning you a bite on your shoulder “Javi I’m…”

“No, not yet!” He pulled out of you again, leaving you on the edge of the abyss of your climax, torturing you, making you whine in frustration “I wanna see it”

He sat on the bed and brought you to his lap, kissing your lips lovingly as you straddled him and rocked your hips back and forth over his shaft teasing both of you like you weren’t to the point of collapsing already.

You snaked your arms around his neck as he held you by your hips and sank you on his cock, strangled moans coming from both of you as you rolled your hips against his, his dick rubbing against all the perfect spots inside you, making you clench around him as you sped up your pace since you were about to explode for a long while now and also that he was holding himself back for long enough.

Feeling your thighs start to tremble, Javier snaked an arm around your back and helped you keep your rhythm, also thrusting his hips upwards to meet yours, gathering all of his self control to wait for you to cum first, he wanted to watch you melt in his arms again and revel in every millisecond of it.

“Come on baby, cum for me…” His plea was more than enough to make the knot on your stomach snap, blinding you in one of the strongest climaxes you’d ever had, your body instantly feeling like jelly under his firm grip, keeping you from collapsing on the bed.

Watching you unravel like that on his dick, the way his name came out of your mouth over and over as your pussy clenched hard around him made him cum hard inside you as you still rode your high, the feeling of his on orgasm just seconds after making yours last longer as you felt him twitching and spilling inside you.

Javier took care of laying your weary body on the bed softly as he pulled himself out of you and laid by your side, cuddling you in his arms as both of you tried to catch your breaths.

“Fuck, Javi…”

“What?” He asked curiously at your amused face, grabbing a cigarette and a lighter from the nightstand next to him. You stared at him, drinking in his beautiful features and all the details you loved about him as he lit up his cigar.

“Nothing, just love you”