#Javier peña x fem!reader
Text
The Pause
Pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader
Summary: You and your colleague Javier Peña have never gotten along, but with just a simple proposition that started off as a joke, it turns out you do work well together in some areas.
Warnings: smut| fingering, oral sex (f receiving), squirting, protected p in v sex (ik me writing that they use a condom? Incredible), praising, size-kink, and reader is not shaved (bc lets be honest now yo girl is so over that)
A roll of the eyes and a loud enough huff... the usual warm greeting reserved for your colleague.
"Good morning to you too" he mocked, raising his head as you sat at the desk in front of him.
"had a rough night?" he continued, wanting nothing more than to see that look on your face when he poked you just enough.
"Well I had a great one" he informed you like you cared, as he lit a cigarette.
"I'm sure you did" you finally spoke "Which one was it tonight? My money’s on Vanessa, you have a sweet spot for her"
He let out a small chuckle, knowing he had gotten exactly what he wanted.
He would have never admitted it out loud, but he loved your daily banter, and even more, he loved your smart mouth.
"Is that Jealousy I hear?"
Now was your turn to laugh "You wish, Peña" you smirked, "the day I'll start being jealous of you and your special friends I'll have officially gone insane"
His eyes slowly analyzed your face, making you feel more uncomfortable than you liked to admit
" I think it wouldn't hurt you, you know?"
"what?" you sighed, organizing some files somebody had left on your desk during the night.
"a good fuck"
Your eyes shot up to his, a mix of disappointment and annoyance firing out of them.
"Unlike you, I'm not really into paying for it" you tilted your head, watching his hazel eyes closely "and not that it's any of your business, but I'm fine in that department"
"How long has it been?" he asked, like he knew, like he knew he was annoyingly right.
It had been a dry month, hell, a dry year.
"why, are you offering?" you raised an eyebrow, not backing off.
"why... are you refusing?" he mirrored your expression, a smug grin tugging at his lips.
Your breathing slowed, and time stopped for an infinite instant, all the office's noises blurred in the background as wrong, wrong images filled your brain.
like the one where that same mouth draped around that cigarette crashed with your own... or the one where his big, strong hand wrapped around your neck as his breath fanned against your lips, or the one where...
"good morning"
A whimper left your mouth, and as quickly as you tried turning away from Javier, you didn't miss the smug smile growing on his lips, or the way his eyes searched every inch of your face.
Fuck
"Hi Steve" you cleared your throat, praying to whoever was listening that the crimson painting your cheeks would be blamed on the heat.
The blonde nodded at you with a genuine smile as you willed your breathing to even out.
"Messina said two of us gotta go check out something"
"something?" Peña asked
"Yeah apparently there's a guy that might be able to give us some information" Steve shrugged
He said two, didn't he?
The look on Javier's face certainly cleared out any doubts you might have had.
Oh no. no way in hell I'm spending the whole day with him after what happened not even a minute ago.
"I'll stay behind" you blurted out, earning a frown from Steve and an amused grin from Peña.
You weren't fooling him
You were never one to back down on these things. You wanted to go on the field as much as possible, and they both knew that.
"I just-" you muttered, trying to come up with a believable excuse "I have some things I need to finish up here anyway"
If Steve wasn't convinced, he didn't show it, but Javier on the other hand... Javier was looking at you like he could read every single thought crossing your mind.
"alright" Murphy sighed "Let's go then, Peña," he said, giving you a farewell nod before starting down the elevator
Javier lingered for a moment longer, bending much closer than he needed to as he put out his cigarette in the ashtray between your desks.
"Goodbye y/n" he spoke lowly "I'll be back"
and to anyone that would have sounded like a normal thing to say, but to you... to you, it sounded only like a threat.
__ __ __
Turns out you didn't need to lie, turns out that there actually was a lot of shit to do at the office.
The hotline had been buzzing all day, and being that you were the only dea agent available, most calls had to go through you, plus all the reports to go over and the forms to fill... you didn't even realize how much time had passed before Messina startled you as she walked out of her office.
"Goodnight agent" she called, making you glance up from your desk for the first time in the past two hours.
"goodnight" you called absentmindedly, as you took in the office... it was deserted, not one single soul at their desk.
What time is it?
You glanced at the clock hanging on the wall to your right
9:30 pm
9:30 pm?
When the fuck did that happen?
the elevator dinged in the distance as your boss stepped into it.
You must be seeing things, because there's no way in hell... nope, the clock was still telling the same exact time.
"fuck" you exhaled into the empty room, running a hand down the length of your face.
Ok, it's definitely time to go home.
You glanced at the papers on your desk and divided them into two piles, one of them going into your drawer, and the other in Messina's office.
You sighed heavily as you got up, the old chair creaking under your weight.
The click of your heels against the tiles echoed off the walls as you made your way to the Messina's door.
She's not gonna be happy about how many papers she's gonna have to look over in the morning...
You turned the doorknob and the door emanated a soft shriek as you pushed it open.
You walked to the desk and just when you were about to drop those papers on it, a voice rumbled from beside you
"You waited"
You gasped, turning around immediately in shock
"Jesus Christ!" you breathed, realizing who it was "You scared me"
"I'm sorry sweetheart" Javier spoke softly
sweetheart? When did that happen? And when did my body get permission to react this way?
He was leaning on the doorframe, his arm crossed over his broad chest.
"what are you doing here?" you asked, retracting your hand from your hammering heart and finally setting the files on the desk.
"I told you I'd be back" he put simply "We never got to finish our talk this morning"
You swallowed what felt like sand in your mouth,
A part of you, a naive, stupid part of you, was hoping he would have already forgotten about that, but of course, it's Javier F. Peña we're talking about, and when it's about torturing you... you can be sure he'll never forget anything.
"what talk?" you lied through your teeth
maybe miracles are real, maybe he'll just let it go.
He didn't respond, he didn't need to, he saw right through you.
He smirked instead, uncrossing his arms and taking a step towards you.
Now your heart wasn't racing from the scare, this was all him.
You were the only people in the office, hell, the building probably, and he was right there in front of you, looking at you like he could see right through your clothes.
"You paused" he murmured, now towering over you
"What are you talking about?"
Fake it until you make it, right?
"You paused this morning"
You frowned, pretending not to know exactly what he was talking about “Listen Peña I gotta go home, so if you-“ you moved out of his way, starting towards the door, but before you could actually exit the room, his hand on your wrist stopped you, making you turn around
“Do you want me to fuck you, agent y/l/n?”
To say heat rushed to your face was an understatement
“What the fuck?”
“Oh don’t look so surprised, I saw how you looked at me before” he cooed, wetting his lips
“And how did I look at you?” you shook your arm out of his hold, just for him to get even closer to you, his body now inches away from your own
“Like you wanted me to say just that” he murmured “like you wanted me to bend you over your desk and take you right there in the middle of the office”
A breath got caught in your throat, and as much as you wanted to get out of his penetrating gaze, you couldn't do anything but stare at those endless wells of brown.
I don't know what to say, What the fuck could I say?
The same pleased grin was adorning his lips, and for a moment you pondered whether you wanted to smack or kiss it off of him.
"I don't know what you're talking about" you managed to say, praying you sounded more confident than you actually felt
"c'mon sweetheart" he chuckled "I know you want it" he breathed, ducking closer so he could whisper in your ear as he moved some hair out of your face "A good fuck wouldn't hurt you... you're always so tense"
He drawled out his words like spells
"You're confident for a man who needs to pay women to fuck them"
he smiled amusedly at that
"Is that a challenge?"
"most definitely not" You ignored the shiver running up your spine
he raised his head again so that he could look at you
"There's nothing to be ashamed of, y'know," he said "It would just be two friends helping each other out"
"since when are we friends?"
"fine then" he agreed "Two colleagues"
Was he being serious?
Did I fall asleep at my desk and this is just some fucked up lucid dream?
"c'mon baby" he persisted, his hands finding your waist "I can make you feel real good"
"Peña..." you breathed, trying to get your mind to collaborate and realize what a fucking mistake you were about to make
"yes, sweetheart?" the bastard asked, his voice dropping an octave.
You gulped, cursing yourself internally
There was no turning back, your mind was already made up... and he knew it too.
You glanced out the door.
No one was here,
No one would ever have to know about this.
"If I agree... we'll never speak of this again ok?" you stated "This never happened"
The widest grin you'd ever seen split his face
"You sure about that, baby?" he murmured, "that way..." he brought his right thumb to your mouth, slowly tracing its shape "How will you be able to beg me to do it again?"
You snorted "please"
"Ok, how about this" he proposed then "I promise to never speak of it again, if after we're done... You can sincerely tell me that that wasn't the best sex of your life"
You laughed again, "fine"
"You can't lie" he reminded you, his mouth now ghosting yours
"I won't" you repeated "Now can you please just-"
"Gladly" he muttered, but before you had time to respond or think of any other rules to impose, his lips were already on yours, and his tongue had slipped into your mouth
He was...hungry
Both his hands wrapped around your waist and he picked you up like you weighed less than a feather.
The squeak you let out was muffled by his mouth, but you somehow managed to wrap your legs and arms around him in the haze.
his hands were on your ass, and the groan he let out didn't even try to hide just how much he liked them there.
You could feel his mustache, taste his cigarettes, and his scent was wrapped around you like a mantel, and god you hated admitting it but it felt good, he felt good
And you were so caught up in everything that your body was feeling for the first time in so long, that you didn't even realize he hadn't stayed still, but in fact, had walked you right in front of Messina's desk and was now sitting you on it.
Oh god
Why did it now just tick that you were in your boss' office?
"changed your mind yet?"
Javier on the other hand, couldn't have cared less
"From just a kiss?" you teased, cocking an eyebrow
He snickered, parting your legs so he could fit in between them.
His mouth trailed away from yours until it found your ear "Well I am very talented with my mouth" he murmured, before biting your lobe.
You wouldn't have even realized you had moaned if it wasn't for that smug smirk on his face.
"Oh don't worry" he cooed, his mouth now lowering to kiss your neck "I'll show you in a minute"
His lips started a slow, torturous trail down your neck, each peck sending a ripple of warmth to your core, and when his teeth grazed your collarbones, then you couldn't do anything but whimper, as you threw your head back.
You couldn't see him, but you sure as hell could feel that smile on his lips.
Next was your blouse, he took his time gently undoing each button, reserving a kiss for every new inch of skin he uncovered, until the fabric wasn't doing anything to cover up your bra, and all he needed, and hence did, was to get rid of your shirt.
"fuck" he muttered mostly to himself, all his eagerness showing for a moment as he removed your black bra like his life was on the line "Where have you been hiding all this?"
"I haven't been hiding anything, and you know it" you scoffed "I catch you staring at least twice a day"
A soft chuckle fled his throat "Can you blame me?" he asked, his eyes focused on your body "I mean look at you" his hands traveled up your belly until they were cupping your tits "You belong in a museum"
And you knew he had probably said that same line to more girls than you could ever imagine, but the blush on your cheeks rose nonetheless.
But before you had time to lie and ask just how many those girls were, he had ducked and sucked your left nipple into his mouth.
"oh shit" you whispered, hypnotized by the image in front of you.
He caught you staring as he opened his eyes, and just when you were expecting a snarky comment, he only smirked before taking your other nipple into your mouth.
This time you closed your eyes as you moaned just to be safe.
He let go of your skin with a pop, making you whimper.
"Can I take off your skirt sweetheart?"
What is this, a joke?
"mh-mh" you hummed
"All the sudden you don't wanna talk?" he mocked "Use your words baby"
You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes
"Yes, Javier, you can take off my skirt"
A smirk pulled at his lips
"Good girl"
If you were wet before, those two words had now rendered you completely drenched, and that look on his face told you he knew exactly what he was doing
His fingers quickly slipped under your skirt, and before you knew it, you were sitting in front of him in only a pair of black panties, and your work heels.
You were breathing as if you'd just run a marathon once he started peeling your panties off of you.
"wait" you suddenly remembered
"What is it sweetheart?" he stopped
"I-" all the sudden you were embarrassed "I didn't shave"
he looked at you like you'd just told him to go fuck himself
"Baby girl, you're insulting me" he cooed, stoking your sides "You take me for a man who cares about that sort of thing?"
"Oh," you breathed "I just-"
"You got me all wrong sweetheart" he shook his head, slowly kneeling between your knees and gradually taking off your panties in the process.
"god, you're beautiful" he breathed, once you were entirely bare before him.
And again, red crept up your cheeks.
He picked one of your legs up and unhurriedly bent down to kiss you just above your ankle, and then your calves, and then your knee, and then all the way to your inner thigh, until you were screaming internally and your heart was beating faster than you thought humanly possible.
he took his time placing your foot on the chair next to him, so you were spread wide for him, and then did the same thing all over again to your other leg, only changing his routine when he placed your leg on his shoulder instead of the chair.
You were close to hyperventilating.
"Javier..."
"What sweetheart?" he teased, his lips now inches from where your body was begging him to be "You're already desperate?"
"You-You wish" you lied
He chuckled, and the vibrations of his voice went straight to your core, making you whimper
"no?" he taunted, kissing you even closer to your cunt
"no- just-" you swallowed
"what? Tell me what you want baby"
"You know what I want" you begged
"I do, but I wanna hear you say it" he murmured, kissing you just above your pussy "I want to hear you begging me to lick this pretty pussy of yours"
"That's not going to happen" you breathed
He grinned "You sure?" his lips lowered to kiss your clit
"fuck" you moaned with a thread of voice
"You sure you don't want me to?" he asked again, his lips now finding your hole "'cause that would be a damn shame..." he continued, the tip of his tongue now finding your core for just a second "You look fucking delicious baby"
"I-" you stuttered, shutting your eyes "Javier c'mon"
"I want to hear you say it, princess" he smirked, "What's the magic word?"
And fuck him, but you were desperate
"Please" you surrendered "Please Javier just-"
The rest of your sentence died in your throat as he finally dove down, taking your pussy into his mouth.
"Javi" you whimpered, clutching his head to your body with one hand and gripping the desk with the other.
You had never called him Javi a day in your life, but this seemed as good a time as any.
He sucked on your clit first, stretching it into his mouth and going back again and again making you squirm and desperate to come, before starting to devour every other inch of you, licking up and down and swirling his tongue over your nub, getting drunk on your taste.
"Shit- oh my fucking god" you panted, losing every bit of decency you had and grinding against him.
His mustache was tickling your skin, only making you want to moan louder.
Good thing you were the only people left in the office.
And just when you thought it couldn't get any better, two of his thick, long fingers plunged inside of you.
"Fuck-javi!" you screamed
he curled them inside you while he didn't even dream about stopping his work on your clit, and you couldn't do anything but arch your back as a series of obscenities left your mouth.
his other hand came up to palm your breasts and again, a shock of pleasure coursed through you as he added a third finger.
"Oh god- that's-" you moaned "Javi"
You didn't even know what to say, you just knew that you hadn't felt this good or full in far too much, if not ever.
Three fingers of his didn't even compare to the two of yours you had spent months using as some sort of relief.
"I love it when you say my name like that baby" he leaned away for just a moment to say, before resuming his work of art.
"f-fuck" you cried "Javi please"
"What is it sweetheart?" he asked, his fingers pushing in and out of you filling the room with an obscene sound.
You were soaked.
"Javi I think-" You felt your stomach start to shake as the orgasm was about to take hold but... but something wasn't right.
"fuck javi something's wrong I-" you moaned,
You had never felt like this, it felt like... it felt like you were about to pee.
"I think I'm gonna-"
And before you had time to finish, he pitched your left nipple and a tsunami of pleasure washed you all the way to the shore as your vision went white.
You were sure your moans could be heard from outside of the building.
"Goddamit sweetheart" his deep voice brought you back to reality
You opened your eyes, and he was... he was glistening, and- and that wet spot on his shirt wasn't there before, was it?
"Did I-" Your eyes widened
You...squirted? You didn't even know you were capable of something like that
"That was the hottest thing I've ever seen baby," he said, looking at you as if you'd just turned water to wine "Was this your first time?"
"yeah" you nodded
A smile spread on his lips as he stood up again
"You still sure you aren't gonna beg me to do that again?"
"God, I hate you" you breathed
"yeah? Enough to let me fuck you apparently" he murmured, before crashing his lips with yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.
"Shut up" you mustered, before he kissed you once again.
You racked your hands down his chest, fumbling to undo his shirt's buttons.
thank god he didn't wear a tie today
Once his shirt was off with his help, you let your hands move down his body until they found the bulge in his tight jeans.
"fuck" he groaned, as you palmed him through the fabric.
His belt was even harder to take off.
"Eager sweetheart?" he cooed, undoing his belt for you, and while he was at it, unzipping his pants.
"Shut up"
He smirked that same smug smirk he seemed to have stapled to his lips "We'll see who'll be the one who won't be able to talk in a minute"
"I'm not sucking your dick, Peña"
"That's not what I'm talking about baby" he murmured, getting rid of his pants and boxers at the same time.
Your gaze lowered and- oh shit
"fuck" you muttered, not even realizing you had
He chuckled, his chest raising with his voice "What? Too big for you?" he mocked, kissing your cheek before trailing his mouth to your ear "Don't worry, I'll go slow just for you, sweetheart"
Your mouth was still agape, but you were finally able to tear your glare from his member.
"Do you-" you swallowed "Do you have a condom?" you remembered.
In no time he materialized one from the pocket of the jeans pooling at his feet.
"Of course" you huffed out a laugh.
He didn't pay you any mind you as he rolled on the condom, and you watched the motion, mesmerized by... well, by how big he was.
He caught you red-handed, and his grin only widened.
"Open your legs for me sweetheart" he ordered, and something in his tone made you oblige immediately.
He positioned himself at your entrance, taking his dick in his hand and sliding it between your folds.
"fuck" you moaned softly, closing your eyes
"I want you to look at me" he stopped you, "You look at me when I'm inside you, baby"
You hesitated a moment before doing as told, looking into his lust-filled eyes.
"Good girl" he praised you, before finally entering you.
"Oh my god" you moaned at the stretch.
"That was just the tip sweetheart" he smirked, pushing himself even deeper.
Just the tip?
You looked to where your bodies were meeting and, to your dismay... he was right
How is that all gonna fit?
"It's gonna fit" he read your mind, retracting his hips just to thrust himself deeper "You're gonna take it all like a good girl y/n" he murmured against your mouth, as his fingers found your clit "and then when I'm done with you" he forced his cock into you again making you quite literally scream "you're gonna feel so sore you're gonna remember me every time you take a step"
And with that, he drove his whole dick into you, making you bite your own lip so hard you could almost taste blood.
"God you feel good" he groaned, starting to find a slow pace "so fucking tight for me sweetheart"
"fuckfuckfuckfuck" was all you could cry out into the air
it was so big
and so deep
"I know" he cooed, kissing your neck, before fastening his pace.
"Javi!" you screamed, one of your hands going to grip his shoulder to keep you anchored to this world.
It was nothing like anything you'd ever felt. You could feel him everywhere, taking hold of every single part of your being.
"Look at you" he murmured, kissing ur lips again, even if they were parted as you gasped for air "Taking it so well" he cooed, his fingers resuming their work on your clit "Being such a good girl for me" he continued, his breath fanning against your mouth "letting me use this pretty pussy of yours" he groaned, as you sucked him right in "drenching me with all your juices" he growled "so so good"
"javi please" you moaned
"do you even know what you're begging for?" he asked "Or are you so cock drunk that brain of yours has stopped working?"
"I-" You tried to come up with a comeback, but all you could do was whine and whine and then whine again.
"fuck" was now his turn to moan "babygirl you feel so fucking good"
"Javi"
"Yes say my name sweetheart" he thrust into you more harshly now, more deeply even somehow "Scream it"
"Fuck-javi!"
"just like that" he nodded, looking you right in your eyes as he split you in fucking half "Just like that baby"
"Javi I'm-" you whimpered, not able to find the words
"You're coming sweetheart?" he found them for you "You gonna drench me again?" he asked mostly himself "No you need to have it licked to do that, don't you?" he realized "fuck I can't wait 'till you'll let me have a taste again"
"oh my god" you moaned, as pure ecstasy ran through your body "Fuck I'm-"
"come all over me baby" he urged, grunting with every one of his deep fucking thrusts "Be a good girl and come on my cock"
And that was all you needed, that's all you heard before you were screaming his name as loud as you could, letting him drill you into another earth-shattering orgasm.
"fuck" he groaned, just after you were done, "fuck-y/n" was all he could muster before he too, had the best orgasm of his life.
it took a moment before any of you got enough breath in your lungs to do anything but stare into each other's blown-out pupils.
"So?" he asked, not even bothering to pull out
Part of you was still wondering if this was a dream, and the fact you couldn't feel most of your body certainly didn't help
"You know" you rolled your eyes
He smirked "I do know, but I wanna hear you say it"
"Yes, alright?" you admitted
"Yes, what?"
fuck. me.
"Fine" you sighed "Yes, Javier, it was the best sex of my life"
And again, his grin only got wider "Good" he said "'cause it was mine too" he gave your lips another quick peck "and there's no way we're not doing it again"
#javier peña#narcos#javier peña x reader#javier peña x fem!reader#javier pena narcos#javier peña x y/n#javier peña x you#javier peña smut#narcos x reader#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x female reader#javier peña x female reader#javier pena#javier pena smut#javier pena x reader#smut#joel miller#the last of us#tlou hbo#the last of us hbo
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ㅤㅤㅤ❤︎ 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍
ㅤjavier peña x plus size f!reader
genre: smut, strangers to lovers/fwb, minors dni
word count: 4.5k
summary: it's the 80s. when the dig you've been working at has to take a short break due to escobar and politics, you decide to wait it out at medellín. while hitchhiking, a charming stranger pulls up.
warnings: mild weed usage (reader), car sex, nipple play, dirty talk, dry humping, age gap, piv, creampie, unprotected sex, brat taming if you squint, some weight-related insecurities if you squint but mostly she's just vibing and living her life
a/n: i would really consider writing more of this so please let me know what you think! a special shoutout to @inklore because i feel like i wouldn't think about hitchhiker smut on the bus if it wasn't for her fic roadside delight which all of you should go and read rn because it's amazing, ily bby 💗
**dividers by the amazing @saradika xx
Raindrops land sparsely over your skin, most of the wetness caught over your cheeks. Sliding down your neck, they sneak beneath the sweetheart neckline of your olive green dress. The skirt dances with the wind, teasing the inner curves of your thighs as it playfully flutters in your wake. Despite the rain, it’s still warm. However, that doesn’t stop the chill of the gray clouds from settling over your skin. With a deep sigh, you lift your thumb once more.
You have no idea how long you’ve had your thumb sticking up; maybe it’s been only ten minutes or an hour, regardless, you’re frustrated and want the wait to end.
Some cars had slowed down but upon seeing the men that were driving, you had quickly hidden your thumb away. You knew what they were thinking. Thanks to the rain, there was only little left to the imagination. The dress that already hugged your breasts and hips hugged you even tighter now, the fabric almost sheer as it exposed your tight nipples. You should’ve brought a jacket with you but honestly, how were you supposed to know it was going to rain today?
“Fucking hell,” you mutter, pushing your wet hair away from your neck in frustration. Not a single car in sight after what you thought had been at least ten minutes of waiting. Clicking your tongue, you reach into your bag, retrieving a lighter and a joint thoughtfully rolled by one of your colleagues at the excavation site. It was greatly appreciated since you weren’t the best at rolling.
Taking a drag, you sigh, the smoke mingling with the misty air. The excavation site had declared a short break due to some unforeseen issue related to the escalating Escobar problem in the region. It's hush-hush among the team, but you've caught snippets of worried conversations about increased security concerns and the need to lay low for a while.
Your shoulders relax as the smoke swirls in your lungs, your body now feeling rejuvenated instead of cold under the rain. In the distance, you hear the soft hum of a car approaching and narrow your eyes as you look at the distance. Your eyes light up when you see a car approaching and this time, no matter who’s in it, you promise yourself you’ll just get in.
The cigarette still between your lips, you lift your thumb with enthusiasm, taking a step further into the road, you giggle slightly thinking you might just as well jump in front of it to make it stop. You want to get out of the rain, want warm clothes and blankets.
The car comes to a smooth halt.
You lean towards the already open window, you quickly pluck the join away from your lips and smile broadly at the dark-haired stranger.
“Hola,” you say, hoping your accent is decent enough. “¿podrías darme un aventón?”
The stranger gives you a curious look, his lips curl upward, eyes dropping to your cleavage before lifting them back up to meet your gaze. Your breath catches in your throat, chest heaving at the sight of him. He’s beautiful. Dark hair, dark eyes, plump lips. Blinking, you swallow and press your legs together, thankful he can’t see it.
“Where you headed?” he asks.
“Medellín,” A timid chuckle escapes your lips. “Did my accent give it away?”
“A little,” he jerks his head to the side. “Hop in. You must be freezing like that.”
Grateful, you open the car and slide yourself inside. Warmth immediately envelops you like a cozy blanket and you sigh happily, leaning into the comfort of the seat. “Thanks,” you say, offering your name along with it. “What’s your name?”
“My name’s Javier. But you can call me Javi.”
“I think I’ll stick to Javier, I like the way it hits my tongue.”
He grins, “Do you, now?”
It takes you everything to ignore the delicious roll of his tongue and how it would feel on your skin. You lift your hand suddenly, the joint visible between your fingers.
“Is it okay if I smoke this in your car?”
He looks confused for a brief moment. You notice him taking in deep breaths, sniffing the air, his eyes go slightly wide with realization but then the surprise in his eyes molds into amusement.
“Go ahead,” he says. “You’re awfully bold to ask that without knowing who I am or what I do. What if I was a cop?”
“Cops don’t look as good as you do.”
Shit.
“I look good?”
You hear the mirth in his voice and quickly change the subject, “You want one?”
“No,” he answers firmly. Confusion furrows your brow and his tone quickly softens. “Let’s just say I’m not a fan. And it’s illegal.”
“Oh, sorry. I can put it out, you don’t have to be nice about it.”
He thinks about it for a while but shakes his head. “You don’t have much of it left anyway,” The car starts moving and you look at the spot you’ve been waiting at for god knows how long one last time. Good riddance. “So, Medellín, what business do you have there?”
“No business,” you answer promptly, taking another drag. You blow the smoke out the window, the wind whisking it away. “I’m studying archeology. I was doing research at Ciudad Perdida but we had to take a break for safety reasons. We might still go on so until I get a firm ‘go back home’ I was thinking to wait it out there.”
“It’s not really safe there either, you know. You gotta be careful when you get there,” he gives you a side glance, eyes moving up and down your curves. Your heart rate escalates and when you press your legs together once more, it doesn’t go unnoticed. “You’re awfully squirmy there,” he says, voice low and all gravel. “You okay?”
Your veins buzzing, you throw the remainder of the joint out the window. Your head is swimming pleasantly, the smoke loosening your tongue and making you eager to confess all the dirty things you want to do with him. But along with that, uncertainty creeps in. You don’t even know if he wants you that way. He seems older than you. He might’ve just been looking after you and the lust you heard in his deep voice might’ve just been in your imagination.
“I’m not squirming,” you say quickly. He doesn’t look convinced by your answer, hands tightening around the steering wheel. “How long until we get there?”
“A couple of hours,” his eyes catch your lingering gaze and he smiles. “There’s a gas station a little ahead so I suggest you go to the bathroom, sweetheart. If you have to go.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“You hungry?”
Your hand wanders to your stomach, you can’t tell if he’s asking because of your appearance or if it’s a genuine question. He speaks up before you can decide. “I’m starving,” he says. “I also need to buy a pack so if you want anything just tell me. I’ll pay.”
“I have money.”
He laughs at that, and laughs even harder at your pout, “You’re a student in Colombia, hitchhiking. I doubt you have much,” he shrugs. “Besides, you’re a guest in this country, let me treat you.”
“You’re being awfully nice.”
“Am I? I don’t think so.” You see the gas station coming into view. “But mamá always did say I had a soft spot for pretty girls.”
“You think I’m pretty?” you answer, hoping to have more a sultry tone but your words come out breathless. Excited.
The car slows, his eyes are glued to your neck, he slowly moves them down. His dark gaze eating you up. You can almost feel it caressing your skin, heating you, and licking over the waterdrops that stubbornly remains on your skin.
“Don’t say it like you don’t already know.” The car stops along with your breath. He pulls the keys out and leans close, lips almost touching your pulse. You feel his breath on your ear, warm, it coaxes goosebumps to rise across your skin. His eyes trail over the curve of your lips. “Do I make you uncomfortable?”
You shake your head, “No.”
His lips touch your cheek. It happens so quickly that you feel you might’ve imagined it. The rough hairs above his lip tickle your skin and you instinctively chase the heat of him as he moves away.
Before you know it he’s out of the car, the patch of skin where his lips touched still burning with delight. Stunned, you touch your cheek with the tips of your fingers.
Maybe waiting in the rain for someone like him wasn’t so bad after all.
You should’ve known it would end up like this.
Him, to park the car in a semi-remote spot.
You, to cradle his lap, your dress pushed up all the way up exposing your soft thighs with his hands all over you.
You should’ve known.
The soft pitter patters of rain hit the top of the car, you’re too occupied by his mouth to realize the sun had slowly started to peek through the clouds, warming the damp concrete. Javier’s tongue is awfully skillful. He slips his tongue between your lips, licking himself deeper into your mouth, his hands pull at your neckline, exposing your bare breasts. He flattens his palms against them, your nipples tighten against the heat of his palm.
He breaks away with a groan, “I knew you were braless,” he rasps, dipping to your neck. “I fucking knew it.”
“And I knew you were staring,” you tease and expose more of your neck. He nips at the tender skin playfully, a shiver runs up your spine. “Here I thought you picked me up out of the goodness of your heart.”
“Tell me to stop and I will.”
“No—god, no. I don’t ever want you to stop.”
And that’s all he needs to hear as he lifts your breasts towards his mouth. He dips his head, swirling his tongue over the pebbled flesh. Your body seizes. Your breath caught in your lungs, burning like wildfire. He twists the other with his finger and you moan loudly. The fabric of your underwear grows damp, sticking to your skin. He sucks harder. The thick outline of his cock rubs against your core, a feeling like electricity shooting up your spine, your head falls and he bites.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” you whimper, grinding down. Another wave of arousal washes over you, the effect of the weed you inhaled pounding between your thighs.
Javier glares up at you, “Such a dirty mouth,” he grunts and holds your tongue between two fingers. Your brows furrow with pleasure, the hard denim of his pants growing damp thanks to you. “I don’t like bad girls. And you seem to be walking on the edge of it, sweetheart.”
“I–I’m not bad,” you whimper, your words slurring thanks to his hold on your tongue. He lifts a brow, unconvinced. You don’t know why you’re hurt by him calling you bad, but you want to make it up to him—why you do, you have no idea. “I’ll. . . I’ll be good.”
“Promise?”
You only nod and he pinches your tongue, pain blossoms over the soft muscle.
“Promise,” you slur. “I’ll be your good girl.”
Satisfied for now, he releases your tongue and brings his hand back to your aching nipples. He sucks on one while pinching the other, both sensations making your mind whirl.
“You like it when I play with your tits, hermosa?” he groans at the way you rolls your hips, pulling away his lips, he starts playing with both with his fingers. Twisting, pinching, and pulling. You’re trembling. A sopping, wet mess. “So sensitive. You think you can come like this?”
You only moan, your lids fluttering like a butterfly’s wings as you look at him. He smiles, something dark crossing over his handsome features. “I think you can,” he says. “Because you’re my good girl, aren’t you?”
Slack-jawed, you answer, “Y–Yes.”
Javier guides the sloppy roll of your hips. His mouth on your neck, he teases the flesh there while mercilessly playing with your tits however he sees fit. Your nipples are so hard from stimulation it almost hurts, Every twist of his fingers prompts a fresh wave of arousal seep into your underwear. Your body is out of control. Burning from the inside out. You’ve never felt it this intense before, never felt your orgasm nearing so viciously.
His lips hover an inch away from yours, you part your mouth for a kiss but he smiles cruelly, you can smell the hints of tobacco when he speaks, “I can feel how soaked you are, baby. So wet and all for a stranger you just met,” he nips at your chin, gives your nipples a hard pinch that makes you see white. “I wonder if you’d do this with all the others who would’ve stopped for you?”
“Others did slow down,” you say followed up by an elongated whine. Javier thrusts his hips, the rough denim of his pants catching against your clothed clit. He licks your bottom lip. “But they gave me a weird feeling so I hid away my hand. So. . . I wouldn’t do this with just anyone.”
“Fuck, preciosa, you’re saying all the right things,” with one hand, he slides your dress up further, fingers teasing your slit. “It’s an honor to have this cunt all to myself.”
Only then does he kiss you. It’s hungry, depraved. He sucks on your tongue, presses his lips hard into yours. The hand toying with your core moves to your hip, he squeezes your love handle, tugs you down as he thrusts his hips into the air. You cry out and he swallows the wanton sounds that rattle your throat.
“That’s it, come for me,” he purrs, his hips pressing into yours. You grind down helplessly, aching to feel the hardness of him. Your ears begin to ring. Your body tingling and tensing while the taste of your nearing release stains your tongue. Your eyelids flutter closed, his lips once again drawing an aching nipple into his mouth. He sucks and sucks and sucks—and you finally break down, gushing and squeezing around nothing. You feel the wetness bleeding into the fabric, your legs shaking around where they frame his narrow hips, your head falls over and the soft locks of his hair soothe your burning cheeks.
Javier is still moving against you. His cock painfully strained against his zipper, coated in your slick. Both his hands drop to your waist, squeezing as he finds your lips, giving you a tender kiss.
He doesn’t say a word, his hand sneaking between your legs, he slips them under the elastic and pushes two between your folds. You swear you feel his cock throb when he realizes how wet you truly are.
“Shit,” he breathes out. “Fuck, you really did come. Such a good girl,” he lifts your head by the chin and stares into your eyes, your pulse races again. “Good girl,” he repeats, watching as your lips tighten and eyes go wide. “You feel so good on top of me, making a mess out of these shitty pants. You come so pretty, querida.”
“Javier,” you moan, your nipples tightening again.
He pulls his fingers out out and tastes you in earnest, he moans around his fingers, “So sweet.”
You moan again, the fire between your legs roaring to life. He cups your breasts and pushes them towards you, watching the way your eyes roll, “Let me fuck you in the backseat,” he says, as if you would ever say no to that. “I wanna see this ass bouncing on my cock.”
No one ever mentions how awkward car sex can be, especially when you need to move around.
You try not to show it to Javier but you have a sneaking suspicion your face is basically an open book. He slides to the back first, moving between the middle of the front seats. Moving around in a car already makes you awkward, it’s even worse when your tits are out in the open, moving side to side.
But you guess it can’t be too bad since Javier is staring at them instead of you.
“Is it bad that I want to play with them some more?” he chuckles.
“Definitely not,” you smile back, the light-hearted conversation gives you the courage to finally move between the seats. He quickly slides to the side, his lips on yours before you can even sit. He strokes his cock through his jeans, tongue dancing along yours, he sucks the air from your lungs.
“Take off your dress,” he orders, watching, he unbuttons his jeans. You strip quickly, your body already aching to feel him deep inside you. He hums with approval when you’re bare to him, he doesn’t bother taking off his clothes, instead, he slightly pushes down his pants and frees his cock.
A bead of precome glistens at the head, the head of his cock swollen, a hint of red adding color. He’s thick enough to have your pussy already throbbing. Your mouth waters. Javier wraps a hand around his length and pumps it under your lustful gaze, more precome gathers at the slit, slowly trickling down the side. Your breath hitches when you notice him smiling.
“You want a taste?”
You immediately lean down with your tongue out, sucking the tip, you clean him and push yourself further down. Your lips stretch around him deliciously.
Javier doesn’t allow you to taste him further though, with his hand on your nape, he squeezes, “If you do that I’ll come in seconds.” You look up to him between lowered lashes. “And I’d rather come somewhere else, preciosa.”
“How do you want me?” you ask, voice horse.
“On all fours.”
Again, a bit tricky because you have the constant fear your leg is going to slip and you’re going to fall, but the backseat is comfortable enough for that not to happen. His hands slide up your back and he holds you by the shoulders, bringing you close. His cock pushes between your thighs, parting your folds, your slick wets his cock, making the glide easier.
“You know,” he says, his voice dropping dangerously. “Anyone could see us right now. Anyone who decides to drive by is gonna see us fucking.”
You don’t expect yourself to clench at his words but you do, a soft whimper echoing from your lips. You can’t see it, but you know he’s smiling from ear to ear. “Does that turn you on, hermosa?” When you don’t answer, he leans closer, breath tickling the shell of your ear. “Don’t worry, it turns me on too.”
Pushing the tip of his cock into you, your chest begins to move with labored breaths. He buries himself to the hilt with ease. A loud moan escapes his lips as his hips are snug over your ass. Your elbows give way, your head dropping to the leather sheets. It feels too good, too full, too intense. Your body breaks in sweat, your body fluttering around and clamping desperately around his cock. His hands follow the curve of your back, laying on top of each ass cheek.
“Love this ass,” he mutters. “Are you alright? Can I move?”
“Y–Yeah,” you choke out, desperate. Javier begins to move. Slowly pulling back his hips, he slams into you, ripping a moan from your chest. The leather seats creak as he thrusts into you, his pace gradually picking up. Each time he snaps his hips forward, you feel like your world is spinning. He grips onto your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he pounds into you.
“Come on, sweetheart, push those hips back. Prove to me how good you’re feeling on my cock.”
All coherent thoughts leave your mind as you surrender yourself to the sensations. You meet his thrusts halfway, your body screaming at how deep he is. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull, your hard nipples grazing against the leather, it adds to your pleasure. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes throughout the car. He leans forward, his lips brushing against your neck as he groans your name.
You can feel the tension building up inside you, your body on fire. The coil in your stomach tightens, your legs starting to quiver, you gasp his name, barely able to breathe. “Come on my cock,” he commands, licking the start of your spine. Arousal pours between your legs, slick trickling down his cock. “Show me how good you are—”
You cry out as your orgasm crashes over you, your walls clenching around him. Your breathing is caught in your throat. You roll your hips desperately, begging him to fuck you harder, god deeper—he does. He hammers into you, groaning over and over about how much of a good girl you are. His praise short circuits your brain and another orgasm washes over you, softer this time, but still powerful, enough to have you dripping over the seats.
Javier continues to thrust into you, chasing his own release. With one final deep thrust, he spills himself inside you, his body shuddering. He grinds his hips, pushing himself deeper until he’s dripping from where he stretches you. You moan his name, your lips moving against the leather.
Both of you collapse onto the seats, panting heavily as you try to catch your breath. Javier hugs you tight and pulls you up until you’re draped over his chest. You feel pleasantly lifeless, your lids heavy. He strokes your damp hair, fingers grazing over your cheek, he kisses your forehead. The gesture makes your heart swell.
“Mi preciosa, eso fue increíble, fuiste increíble.”
His words were said heavily as if he was barely keeping himself from falling asleep. You smile, burrowing yourself into his neck, you focus on the sweetness of the fleeting moment and not the come dripping out from between your legs.
“You were the one that was incredible,” you sigh happily. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt that good in my life.”
“Let’s just say it was a team effort then,” he grins but his smile quickly falters. “How the hell am I supposed to drive now, I need a nap.”
“We could. . .”
He sighs, “Sadly, I have work I need to get to.”
“You never did tell me what you did for a living,” you muse. “Care to share?”
His grin is back, lips curling mischievously, he looks you up and down. Your body shudders at the heat of his gaze.
“We were busy doing other things,” he quickly gives you a peck on the cheek and reaches for your dress. “I’ll tell you later.”
You pout a bit but shrug it off quickly as you take your dress. To each his own. If he wants to keep his job a secret, that’s fine. You just met him after all. And you’ll probably never see him again after you reach Medellín.
The thought sours your mood. Turns your stomach. You don’t want to think about that. You don’t want to think about the end. You always did get attached too easily.
With a sigh, you put on your dress and watch as Javier slides back to the front. You still have a couple more hours with him, you might as well make the best of it.
The ride had been a pleasant one. You’re pretty sure you talked the poor man’s ear off but he talked a bunch too, telling you about his father, his hobbies—which weren’t a lot—and his dislikes about the city. You had listened with rapt attention, eating up every last detail. But still, you had no idea what he did for a living and refused to ask, not wanting to pry.
Almost at Medellín, you notice a checkpoint ahead. Your eyes narrow for a better look and groan, these guys meant business, especially when cartels were on the rise. No matter how many times you batted your eyes, you know your bag is going to get checked along with Javier’s belongings.
“Oh no,” you mutter, prompting Javier’s eyes to shift from the highway to you.
“What’s wrong?”
“I still have a couple of joints in my bag. If they search it I’m toast. They won’t let me go back.”
You’re not sure why but he smiles, did he know the checkpoint would be here? Your heart drops and stomach lurches.
“You’ll be fine,” he says, then he winks for good measure. “Trust me, querida. You won’t get into trouble.”
You have your doubts but nod and lean back anyway. The car slows down as you approach the checkpoint, and you can feel the tension building up inside you. Javier pulls the car to a stop, and a stern-looking man walks up to Javier. The officer’s gaze lingers on you before turning to Javier.
“Documentos e identificación.”
“Hola,” he greets along with a short nod. “Soy Javier Peña, de la DEA. Estamos de paso.”
Your eyes grow wide when Javier shows his badge to the officer, your jaw nearly drops, blood rushing to your ears. You desperately have the urge to shake your head and yank the badge out of the officer’s hands to inspect it yourself. To feel it under your fingers.
The officer nods and motions to the others to let you through, “Adelante, buen viaje.”
The car starts to move again and finally—finally, you allow your jaw to drop.
“You’re DEA?” you ask, upper body rising up from your seat, your tone shrill. Javier doesn’t say anything but he does nod, eyes never leaving the road. “Oh my god,” you say. “Oh my god—why. . why didn’t you tell me? I—I smoked weed in your car! You could’ve arrested me at any given point—I. . . I—” I fucked a DEA agent.
You drop back down, defeated.
“You don’t need to worry about me arresting you,” he answers, smiling. “I would’ve if you were a threat but. . . I think we established that you aren’t.”
“A bunch of criminals fuck with agents you know,” you snap, weirdly offended. “Just because we did it doesn’t mean I’m not dangerous.”
“Do you want me to arrest you, hermosa?”
Cuffs do sound tempting but you aren’t playing that game right now, “No. . .”
“Good, we’re on the same page then,” he drums his thumbs against the steering wheel. “My intention wasn’t to trick you or anything. You already seemed miserable under the rain, waiting for that long. I didn’t want to stress you further. And you can’t really blame me for thinking like that when the second sentence you said was ‘do you want a joint’ you would’ve freaked out. Am I wrong?”
“No,” you say, clearer this time. “I still feel embarrassed though.”
“You’ll live.” Finally entering the city, he turns to you, meeting your gaze. It’s a bit ill-advised since he’s driving but you appreciate having his full attention. “Where should I drop you off?”
Oh.
“I. . actually don’t know. Do you know any good places to stay? A room I can book on short notice?”
“You don’t have a place to stay?”
“I’m a girl who was hitchhiking through a country I don’t know. Do I look like someone with a plan?”
“Fair enough,” he says, eyes turning back to the road. “Well, this is going to sound weird but you can stay with me if you want to.” Before you can answer, he adds. “I have a spare room.”
Saying yes is easier than you thought.
#javier peña x reader#javier peña x you#javier peña x f!reader#javier peña x fem!reader#javier peña smut#javier peña fanfic#narcos fanfic#narcos x reader#javier pena x reader#javier pena x you#javier pena smut#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal character fanfiction
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𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 - Javier Peña
pedro pascal has me in a chokehold and i'm not gonna apologize for it. take this smut. also, this is basically just a self insert cause i couldn't help myself
Summary: All alone at a bar after being stood up by a blind date, you catch Javier's lustful eye.
Warnings: self insert basically (I'm half Mexican so...yeah, I made reader Mexican too. sue me), alcohol and drug consumption, dancing and leaving no room for Jesus (grinding), SMUT (MINORS DNI), one night stand, fingering, oral (m!receiving), spanking, kinda mean dom!Javi
word count | 4.3k🤙🏻
You didn’t think your night could get any worse.
First, you get all dolled up just to be stood up by your date, then the friend you came to the club with abandoned you to hook up with some random guy. You hoped you’d at least meet someone here to soothe your bruised ego, but there weren’t any takers or anyone that met your standards. Yeah, tonight seemed like it would be a bust.
Unbeknownst to you, across the bar, Javier Peña couldn’t keep his eyes off you. After a rough day on the job, his partner encouraged him to come to this club to blow off some steam. He was content just hanging out with Murphy, until he saw you. The expression on your face is what caught his eye first, the way you had a permanent frown and look of disappointment. He instantly knew you must’ve gotten stood up, or broken up with. Why would anyone stand up someone as gorgeous as you? He’d never know. He really thought you were. Gorgeous. The way your eyes sparkled in the club lights, the way your lips wrapped around the rim of your margarita glass, leaving a subtle red stain with your lipgloss. Of course, he couldn’t help but notice your attire; a dress just above knee length lined with lace, hugging the form of your torso but flowing around your hips. He followed the curve of your ass down your legs until he got to your freshly pedicured feet that sported wedges that matched the dress. He hated knowing that you must’ve gotten dressed up for nothing.
You were such a stunner, Javier didn’t even register Steve was even talking to him. “Sorry, what?” He tried speaking over the music blaring over the speakers.
Steve only laughed, shaking his head as he took a swig of his beer. “You’ve been eyeing that bird ever since we got here. Just go talk to her, man.”
Javier shook his head, turning back around to face his partner. “Nah, I came here with you. It’s fine.”
Steve gave him an unimpressed look, totally not believing him. “You’re so full of shit. Right now, I know the last thing you wanna be doing is spending time with little ol’ me when you could be chatting up a beautiful woman. I’m alright, thinking about heading home to my woman actually.” He finished his drink and started to get up before Javier could even respond. “Enjoy yourself, you’ve earned it after the day we’ve had. See ya on Monday.”
“But, I-” Javi’s voice trailed out the farther Steve walked away, leaving him alone and slightly buzzed. He looked back over at you, somehow looking even more pitiful and on the verge of completely giving up on fun. He sighed heavily before chugging the rest of his beer. “Fuck it.”
You didn’t hear the approaching footsteps over the music, getting startled out of your thoughts when you heard a voice from beside you. “Te ves como si te estuvieras divirtiendo.” The man beside you said, his voice straining a little so you could be able to hear him. At first glance, you thought about leaving right away, but once you got another look, this man was actually pretty attractive. He was tall, gruff looking, but his smile was sweet.
You smiled apologetically. “Lo siento, no hablo español.” You cursed yourself for never learning Spanish.
“Oh, no problem. I’m originally from the States, so. You’re not Colombian?”
“Mexican, actually.”
“Ah, muy bien.”
You giggled, taking a sip of your margarita to calm your nerves in front of this very handsome man. “Spent my whole life around Hispanics and never seemed to pick it up. My father is very disappointed in me.” His laugh made a blush bloom across your cheeks, but thankfully the lights in the club were dim enough to make sure he couldn’t notice.
“What are you doing in Colombia?”
“Holiday, invited by a friend.”
“And what brings you to this club tonight? Got a hot date?” He teased, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.
You huffed. “Well, I was supposed to meet someone here, but he was a no show. I came here with my friend too, but said friend has ditched me tonight.”
His eyebrows furrowed into a frown. “They left you after you got stood up?”
“Oh, no, she wouldn’t do that. I told her she could, but that was before I was ghosted. She’s probably back at our hotel getting dicked down right now. So, I figured I’d stay here a while to give her some privacy or snag someone here for myself.”
“Any takers?” Javier already knew the answer to that, but he wanted to hear it from your mouth.
You sighed with a sad smile. “Nope. I’m completely alone here.”
He leaned in closer to you, resting his forearms on the bar stand. “Well, not anymore. Can I buy you a drink?”
You smirked. “I don’t even know your name.”
He reached out his hand. “Javier Peña.” You closed the gap, taking his course, warm hand in yours. He grinned as you told him your name, as if you just told him the secret of life. “Bonita. Two whiskeys, por favor.” He spoke to the bartender. Oh, this guy was good.
“You’re a bold one, aren’t you?” You giggled.
He shrugged. “Have to be in my line of work. Plus, if I wasn’t, I’d never get laid.” You almost spat out your drink. Well, bold was an understatement.
“And what line of work would that be?”
Javier seemed to hesitate at that, scrunching his face in a frown for a brief second. “DEA Agent.” You nodded in acknowledgement, your expression plain so he couldn’t guess what your stance was. You weren’t running away immediately, so that was a good sign.
Throughout the next hour or so, you both talked each other’s heads off. Each of you telling each other about your work, hobbies, likes and dislikes, even some political stances (the alcohol may have loosen your tongues).
Then, your eyes lit up as a popular Spanish song sounded through the speakers. “Oh my god, I love this song!” You beamed, your body instantly swaying to the beat in your chair.
Javier smiled, stepping away from the bar and extending his hand. “Dance with me?”
“You’re just gonna assume I know how to dance?”
“You’re Mexican, aren’t you?”
“Half.” You chuckled nervously.
He shrugged, grabbing your hand and pulling you off the stool you were sitting on. “You’ll be able to keep up. Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle. Promise.” He purred, bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles. Oh, he was trouble.
You let out a surprised squeal as Javier spinned you around with his hand before getting into the dance. The song was more fast paced, so you both settled on a messy salsa. Javier led you well, laughing off whenever you accidentally stomped on his foot. You had taken a salsa class before, so you weren’t too terrible. But you could tell Javier could’ve looked much better with a more experienced partner. But he didn’t choose someone else, he chose you. “See? You’re not that bad!” He shouted over the music, causing you to grin.
“Well, you’re an excellent dance partner.”
As the energy died down and a slower song came on, you and Javier stepped closer together, wrapping each other’s arm around the other as you started to sway to the music. Your heart thumped in your chest as he looked down on you with those dark, mysterious eyes. He didn’t even try to hide every glance down to your lips or your chest that was pressed up against his. Taking a look around, all the other couples on the dance floor were in similar positions, most making out which caused a blush to form on your cheeks. Javi seemed to notice as he smirked, stepping back to twirl you around, pulling your back against his chest, still keeping up with the beat.
“And what about this song? Is this another favorite?” He spoke against your ear, eliciting a shiver down your spine as you felt his breath fan across your skin.
You shook your head. “I’ve never heard it before.”
“Oh, it’s a great song. It’s about getting to know a woman’s body for the first time.” Your eyes widened. “What she likes, how she likes to be touched, learning if she likes it slow…or rough.” You silently gasped as Javi gripped your hips tightly, pulling your ass against his pelvis, bringing one hand to press against your lower stomach. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the music or maybe it was just you, but you subtly smirked as you grinded back against him, a soft groan escaping from his lips as he tightened his hold against you.
“That does sound like a great song. I bet you know all about that, hm?”
“I am a fast learner.” He growled, running his tongue up the side of your neck, instinctively allowing your head to loll back to rest against his shoulder. You bit your bottom lip to keep in a moan that threatened to escape as his teeth dug in gently. You smiled as you felt Javier’s bulge against your ass, the music allowing you to grind against him without raising any brows.
“Should I guess what you like?”
He hummed. “If you come back to my apartment with me, you won’t have to.”
You turned back to face him, a bright smile on your face. “Will you be gentle?”
He smirked darkly. “I don’t think that’s what you want, querida.”
The both of you didn’t waste any more time in that dance club. You felt your arousal pool in your underwear as Javier all but dragged you outside to slam you against his car, his lips already brushing against every piece of exposed skin he could find before kissing you roughly, his mustache tickling. You moaned at the intensity of it, not having been laid in a long, long time. But you couldn't get too ahead of yourself, you weren’t at his apartment and you were still in public, but by how handsy Javier was being, you figured it didn’t bother him. “Are we going to your place or should I just take off my panties right now?” You giggled as you gently pushed him away, keeping him at arm's length.
“Sorry. I don’t normally take my time…” He whispered breathlessly, placing a feather light kiss on your cheek.
You smirked. “I have some weed if that’ll make you relax.”
Javier narrowed his eyes and pinched your side playfully, making you wince. “You know, I could arrest you for that.”
“Yeah. But from the hard on that pressing against me right now, you really want to get in my pants. Can’t fuck me when I’m in a jail cell.”
“I can be creative.” You let out a whimper as he smacked your ass hard, groping the fatty flesh through your dress before reaching behind you to open the passenger side door of his truck. “Get in.”
You chuckled at his demanding tone, clearly worked up, but you didn’t have the heart to tease him anymore so you obeyed. You almost flinched as he slammed the door shut, speed walking to the other side of the car and starting the engine as soon as he got in. On the road, Javier extended his hand towards you, palm facing it. You raised a brow in confusion. “The drugs.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Seriously? It was a joke. I don’t have any weed.”
Javier looked you up and down with a glance before a smirk came to his face. “So you wouldn't mind if I search you?”
“Where would I ever hide it? My bra? My cunt?”
“Scared I’ll find some?”
You bit your lip to keep yourself from smiling, shifting in your seat to slightly face him, leaning up against the door as you removed your underwear but keeping your dress covering your modesty. “I’ve got nothing to hide, sir.”
Javier’s eyes darkened as he glanced between you and the road. There wasn’t much traffic, so he figured he could get away with it. He reached his hand over and patted your torso down, reaching further and further until he got to your breasts, kneading the flesh softly until his fingers dipped in past your dress and bra. You sighed out as he roamed your tits, pinching your nipples until they hardened. “All clear?” You teased, squeezing your thighs together to get some friction.
“Not yet. I have one more place to check.” You tried not to shiver as his hand trailed down your body, lifting the hem of your dress out of the way and pushing your legs apart to lay his eyes on your glistening pussy. You could hear a soft growl from him as he slid one of his fingers through your slit, your wetness gathering at your entrance quickly. “Been a while, has it?” You gasped as his middle finger started to press against your clit, heat rushing to your face and neck, contrasting against the cold window your head rested against.
“A bit, yeah.” You exhaled shakily.
Stopping at a red light, Javier’s eyes were fixed on your face as he inserted two of his fingers inside you, watching the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head briefly as your lips parted in a moan. He groaned, curling his fingers rhythmically and trying to stretch you out preemptively. “So fuckin’ tight, babygirl. Squeezing my fingers so hard.” Well, it was hard not to when his fingers were so thick and long. He definitely was an expert in this field, finding that place inside you that always had you panting and whining, which is exactly what you were doing as he paired the thrusts of his fingers with his thumb circling your clit.
“Fuck, that feels so good Javier.” You moaned, holding on to the dash for dear life as you tried not to squirm too much.
“Call me Javi.” A sudden honk of a horn jerked you and Javier out of the moment, the spotlight turned red minutes ago, causing the car behind to lose their patience. You giggled as he cursed in Spanish as he sped off, faster than before, anxious to feel all of you. With his fingers still inside you, Javi hastily parked his vehicle on the street outside his apartment, ripping off his seatbelt to lean over to kiss you sloppily. “You were close before, weren’t you?”
You nodded with a whine, the windows starting to fog with your panting breaths. You held onto his shoulder as he forced you to that peak once more, just the right move to push you over the edge. “Javi, fuck-!” You whimpered, the wet squelching of his fingers moving in and out of you echoing in the truck.
“So wet.” He chuckled darkly. “Gonna come on my fingers, querida?”
“Yes. Yes, Javi!” You moaned loudly, heat taking over your whole body as you rode out that wave of ecstasy on his fingers. Javier groaned as he watched your face contort in pleasure, it almost making him come in his jeans untouched. He grinned as he watched your slick coat his fingers and pool into his palm, pulling his hand away to see your cunt make stringy cobwebs of cum. “All clear on those drugs, agent Peña?” You joked when you noticed his oblivious fixation.
He chuckled softly. “I don’t know. I think you’ll need to join me in my apartment for a further evaluation.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Your hands shook as Javier led you up the stairs to his apartment with heavy and hot gazes towards you, almost to make sure you were following him. Like you’d ever want to leave with the promise of getting laid. He seemed to be antsy like you, fumbling with his keys and having to take a deep breath before unlocking his door. But once you stepped over the threshold, all possible nerves promptly left his body as he pinned you to his wall and kissed you passionately. You whined as his hands wandered until they gripped onto your ass, grinding his clothed erection against you.
“God, I can’t wait to fuck you, hermosa.” He growled before latching onto the crook of your neck with his teeth.
“Then don’t.” You whispered shakily, palming his bulge which elicited a low, deep groan from him, the noise causing a pang of arousal to resonate through your entire body. You wanted to hear more, but Javi grabbed your wrist.
“So eager, babygirl. Want me to make you come again that badly?” He chuckled mockingly when you nodded. He led you to his bedroom, sitting you down on the edge of his bed with his lips latched onto yours. “Wanna feel those pretty lips around my cock.” He hummed as he unbuttoned his jeans. Your eyes widened and mouth watered as Javier took his cock out, thick and long. Obviously his jeans had hidden its actual size, you didn’t know if you’d be able to fit it inside. “Think you’ll be able to take it?”
“I’ve just never had someone as big as you, Javi.” That seemed to make him smirk with pride.
“Don’t you worry. I’ll go easy on you. First, at least.” Javier gently grabbed your chin, tilting your head up to look at him, suddenly feeling intimidated by his domineering stature; but it only turned you on even more. “You wanna suck my cock, princess?” You smiled in reply, licking your lips and leaning forwards to lick up the small bead of precum gathered on his slit, the action making him hiss softly. Making sure to keep eye contact with him, you licked the underside of his cock from base to tip, wrapping your lips around the head and suckling on it gently. “Oh, you’re a tease, huh?” You yelped as Javi grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled harshly, taking advantage of your surprise and shoving his cock in your mouth. You instantly tried to relax, sucking on him until he let out a lovely moan. “That’s it. That’s it…good girl.”
His praises and moans went straight to your core, making you even needier than before. He sounded so pretty. Even if your jaw started to ache, you wanted to keep hearing his breathless noises of pleasure. You made a pretty picture, Javier thought. Your lips and tongue around his cock, looking up at him with tears spilling out the sides of your eyes whenever he hit the back of your throat, your moans of exertion causing a delightful vibration. He wouldn’t last much longer like this. He needed to fuck you. Now.
You gasped as Javier pulled you off his dick, kissing you roughly before removing his shirt, your lips upturning in a smile as you admired his body. “Clothes off and lay back on the bed for me, sweetheart.” He ordered, and you had no problem obeying, might’ve even been a bit too eager, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Your face flushed with heat as his gaze fixed on your breasts, licking his lips and smirking. “Goddamn, you’re gorgeous, baby.” You giggled as he pounced on you, sloppily kissing you while positioning himself in between your legs.
You bit your lip as Javier rubbed his dick in between your slick folds, gasping as the head nudged your clit. “Want you inside me so bad, Javi.” You whispered, one hand cupping the side of his face and the other bracing yourself on his shoulder as he started to slowly push in. Your head fell back to the pillow beneath you with your mouth open in a moan, Javi fully sheathing himself inside your velvety walls.
“Fuck, babygirl.” Javier groaned, his brows furrowed, trying to restrain himself from plowing into you right away. He had a vice grip on your hip, while his other hand was groping your tit. “You feel so good.”
“Fuck me harder, Javi, please.” You whined, canting your hips upwards to try and get more friction, but he roughly pinned you down with his hands.
“Ain’t gonna last long if I do that.”
“I don’t care. Please.” You begged, looking up at him with your best puppy dog eyes. Javier growled as he pulled out of you, flipping you over on your front, head down and ass up, pushing himself back in your pussy harshly, setting a cruel pace. “Fuck!” You groaned, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull in a pleasured haze. He fucked you hard and slow, each thrust making you jerk and cry out every time he hit the ends of you, a loud slapping skin against skin noise echoing through his entire apartment. You’d be surprised if his neighbors didn’t come banging on his door telling you to keep it down.
“You like this better, slut?” He mocked before letting out moans of his own, the new position one of his favorites, that much you could tell.
“Yes. God, yes, Javi!” You started to prop yourself up on your elbows, but Javi pushed you back down, keeping your face pressed against the pillow.
“Keep your fuckin’ head down.” He demanded, grunting loudly with every thrust. “Anything else you wanna complain about, sweetheart?”
“Can you…can you spank me, please?” You couldn’t see him from your position, but he grinned, followed by a couple hard slaps to both your ass cheeks, making you moan in appreciation. You could tell he enjoyed spanking you, since he did it often, your skin throbbing and raw but it felt so good. His grip on your hip he used as leverage started to turn painful as opposed to the pressure it previously felt, just knowing you’d have plenty of marks afterwards, and you couldn’t wait to see the masterpiece of bruises he left on your skin in the morning.
“Fuck, babygirl, you’re making it real difficult to keep it together. I don’t think I’ll be able to last much longer.” You lifted yourself with your arms, trying to turn yourself on your back. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I wanna watch as you come.” You smiled sweetly. Now how could Javi deny you when you looked like that? He allowed you to turn over, then he sat up on his haunches and wrapped your legs around his waist. He looked so fucking angelic from this angle, looking down at you with a pleasure ridden face, the sweat coating his body making him shine, his hair disheveled and a dark look his in eyes. The sight paired with his ruthless thrusts, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside of you, made your second climax of the night get closer and closer, you could almost taste it.
Javier watched as goosebumps rose all over your body, your nipples hardening and your walls clenching around him tightly, signaling you were close. If it weren’t for how close he was as well, he’d surely have an arrogant smirk on his face from how drunk you were getting off his cock. “You gonna come for me again, querida?”
“Yes, Javi!” You cried, your body starting to shake uncontrollably as the first shock waves of your orgasm washed over you. “Oh my god, fuck, I’m coming!”
Javier let out a strained moan as your walls pulsed around him, soaking his cock and your face contorting in pure euphoria. He couldn’t resist grabbing ahold of your hand, giving you an anchor to ground yourself as you came down from your high, additionally giving him something to hold on to as he started to reach his own climax. “Where do you want me to come?”
“Inside…” You whispered breathlessly. “Come inside me, Javi. I want it. I need it.”
Javier grunted loudly as his warm ropes of cum painted your walls, his muscles tensing and soft whimpers escaping his mouth as he stilled inside you, panting as if he’d just run a marathon. He surprised you by kissing you softly, then your chin, cheek, and finally your forehead. Much more tender than he previously was. You almost whined at the loss of contact as he laid beside you, immediately lighting a cigarette, offering you one, but you politely declined, claiming you had your own. Instead, you slightly sat up in the bed and pulled out a joint from your bag, smirking to yourself as you knew he’d throw a fit.
You took glances over at Javier as you lit up your joint, resisting the urge to laugh as his eyes widened at the smell, immediately snapping his head towards you with furrowed brows. “Are you really smoking grass in front of me right now?” He scolded. “Seriously? You lied to me.”
You smiled. “What’re gonna do? Handcuff me?”
His eyes darkened, setting down his cigarette in an ashtray and leaned over to hover above you.“I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You only replied by taking a puff of your joint and blowing the smoke in his face. You whimpered as he kissed you hard, biting your lip until he broke skin. “You know marijuana is a gateway drug?”
“Oh, shut up!” You chuckled, putting out your joint so you could focus on kissing him. “You really gonna arrest me, Javi?”
He rolled his eyes. “No, just…just don’t do it around me, alright?”
You raised a brow playfully. “Oh, so this wasn’t just a one time thing?”
He didn’t meet your gaze. “I mean, not if you want it to be. I was going to ask if you wanted to, ya know, do this again sometime?” He spoke softly, looking back up at you with a hopeful expression.
You giggled giddily, feeling like a teenager who just got asked out by your crush. The grin that stretched across Javi’s face at your reaction made your heart thump in your chest even faster. “Of course, Javi. I’d love that.”
“Good.” He smiled, kissing you one more time.
You smirked. “Hey, maybe you could use your handcuffs on me next time.”
“Whatever your heart desires, querida.”
fuck sake
#narcos#javier peña#javier peña x reader#javier peña x f!reader#javier peña x fem!reader#javier peña imagine#javier peña smut#javier pena#javier pena x reader#javier pena imagine#javier pena smut
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how about a five where Javi rejects the reader, so the reader like gets really sad, but one day Javi hears she is going on a date (is not true, Murphy made it up) and he rushed to her apartment and confesses and reader is like ?? What are you talking about, super angsty but super fluffy? Pleaseeee
Out of time | javier peña x f! reader
summary: javi rejects reader. repents like the idiot he is. (i love him) he is a FOOL in love. fight me.
wordcount: 2.1k
warnings: rejection, angst and fluff, hurt and comfort basically, happy ending.
A/N: i got you, anon. this promt is the perfect apology for the last one. repentance fr. love u ALL. let me know what you think. also nothing against “hippies” just giving murphy pov. i do however as an indian have a bone to pick with fake white yoga gurus. it’s gotta be appropriation.
masterlist
Javi had never been heartless before. Never been cruel before. Now, as you pointedly hunched over your desk in an effort to ignore the chortles and cheap jokes that kept sounding from the men crowded around his desk as they all stood around a nameless note someone -you- had slipped onto his desk.
He laughed boisterously with them, before crumpling the paper in his fist and dropping it into the bin next to his chair. You refused to so much as raise your head and look his way, feeling the crushing wave of heartbreak sweeping through you. It wasn’t until you felt a tear on your cheek that you realised that you had started crying, and so you muttered an excuse about getting some coffee before rushing to the bathroom and sobbing in a closed stall. So much for Valentine’s day.
It wasn’t until the end of the day, when you saw him walking your way in the parking lot, that you met his eyes. And you could see, with the set of his jaw; the arch of his brows, that he knew. Before you could scramble into your car, he was yelling after you.
“Is your new hobby being extended to everyone or did I win the lucky draw? Cute note.”
Oh, that bastard.
You scoffed, looking him straight in the eye. “Call it a moment of weakness, Peña. Thought I felt something for you, and it was Valentine’s day. Pretty sure all I feel now is rage, you asshole.”
A laugh from him. “Don’t be like that, hermosa. Let me know if you feel something between your legs for me, alright?”
Scowling, you turned from him and got into your car. You could have sworn he looked like a kicked puppy as you pulled out of the parking. These past few weeks, you had caught him looking at you more often. Finding excuses to touch you more often, too. A hand on your back, fingers accidentally grazing yours, his knee pressed against your thigh in Murphy’s backseat. Fucking idiot. You didn’t even know if you were madder at him or yourself. You know him. All of fucking Bogota knows him. God knows how you were foolish enough to think he felt anything except for between his legs.
A few months go by, excruciatingly slowly. It’s as if time itself has decided to fuck with you. You miss his gaze on you, his hands, his smile, him. You’ve been avoiding him like the plague. Stopped looking at him even when he was in the same room, hardly spoke to him even if it was in the middle of a raid, declined Connie’s many many invitations to parties you knew he’d be at. It was just easier to pretend that February the 14th had been a completely normal day. You’re just tired of all of it. It would have been easier not to have said anything at all.
What you were completely unaware of, however, was that you had a sneaky little shit for a partner. The fact that he had clocked what was going on immediately was completely unbeknownst to you. Both of you pining silently with what Steve dubbed “moony heart eyes”, the radio silence, and the fact that you had stopped talking to Connie just so you didn’t have to show up to her parties? Something had gone wrong. Initially, Steve thought that maybe Javi had made an unwanted move on you - and had damn near scuffed him to death - until he saw Javi’s eyes the next day. Haunted. It seemed that you had managed to take more out of the man than Escobar had. But you weren’t faring much better, either. Irritated and tired and grumbly all the time, refusing to so much as look in Javi’s direction. But you both were pretty much just staying out of each other’s ways, not causing any trouble, so he let it go. For now.
But then Steve and Javi had to chase a lead down together, and Javi introduced him to an informant who - with a little imagination - looked like your spitting image. The same hair, terrifying similar voice, and a lopsided grin, just like yours. And it clicked. The day that had started it all, and the “anonymous” note Javi had gotten. The idiocy with which you both had handled the situation made him want to run unarmed into a sicario’s den, but he came up with another idea instead.
Just before a weekend he knew on good authority that you had no plans except for lounging in bed, he started nudging and hinting to Javi the randomest shit about you. Just to reignite the interest. Almost like, you know - bait.
“Man, her hair looks good. I wonder if she got it done?”
“Hey Peña, d’ya reckon that’s a new skirt? Connie’d kill me if I didn’t ask where from”
“Javi - look - she got her nails done. Before an op? Doesn’t that get a bit…impractical? Hey, I’m jus’ asking.”
Each time, Steve was met with an irritated eyeroll, scoff, or just flat-out ignored. But around midnight on Friday, he ‘bust out the big guns’, so to speak, making an offhanded comment while jutting his chin out in the direction of your chair.
“Good thing she left early. Never woulda made it to the date tomorrow mornin’ otherwise.”
Which, instead of being met with the usual options, was met with Javi’s brain almost short circuiting. The sight of his friend, gaping like a fish as his eyes practically bulged out of his head while he stammered out the easiest one-syllable word in the English language is one Steve can never forget. Or let Javi forget, either.
“W-wha-what?”
And so, like the most devious matchmaker on the planet, Steve proceeded to make up some utter bullshit about a boy he’d supposedly seen you around with, one that had apparently asked you out tonight to meet him for ‘brunch’ tomorrow. Just to fuck with Javi, he made the guy from LA, and a tourist. And white. And the kinda hippie who did yoga and spoke about his newly-discovered chakras all the time.
Javier could feel the blind panic clawing at his chest, his heart threatening to burst. He didn’t know exactly why, but he had hated every single second you hadn’t spoken to him. Laughed at his jokes. Flashed him your smile, even the sarcastic one. He missed your quips and the way you groaned and swore at him when he pissed you off. He’d convinced himself he could live with that. But this? A date with some idiot he knew wouldn’t treat you right? He couldn’t understand his own feelings compelling him to pack up in a frenzy, ignore Steve’s pointed laugh, scramble into his car and drive straight to your apartment. He didn’t even stop to smooth his hair back, or fix the wrinkles in his shirt from slumping in it all day. No, all that mattered to him in that moment was you. Who was he kidding? He knew exactly why he felt the way he did. He’d just been under the illusion that ignoring it would make it go away, but it hadn’t. He had to fix this now.
Standing on your doorstep, Javi blinked for a second while marveling at how fast that drive had been - he’d barely registered doing anything since he heard the word date come out of Steve’s mouth. Hesitation clamped a hand over his mouth, his body, and he stood frozen, unsure of whether to knock or just turn around. But if not now, never, right? And who knew how long he would live? Wasn’t this a time he should be getting what he wants, spending time with the people he…loves?
Before he could overthink himself out of doing it, Javi raised his fist and rapped it against your door, twice. And when you opened the door, rubbing your eyes and standing there in your sleep shorts and an oversized shirt, it took a second for his brain to catch up. It wasn’t until you were squinting at him, then stumbling over nothing as your eyes widened that he realised where he was. The hurt on your face in the split second before you moved to close the door had him jamming his foot in the doorframe.
“Just hear me out, hermosa. I promise if you want me to fuck off after that, I will.”
After waiting for you to nod and open your door wordlessly, he stalked after you, further into your apartment, stunned by how homely it was. The walls had pictures of you and other people laughing, of art and paintings and sketches that seemed to all have been done by the same person; the sofa was a rich brown leather and the fluffy throw on it just a shade lighter. Everything was carefully coordinated, in color and texture, and he couldn’t help but note the contrast. Some of his stuff was still in boxes. He’d been in Colombia for longer than you, and his stuff was still in boxes. The difference was laughable.
But when he heard a sniffle from ahead, he found himself walking faster - practically walking into you - before he was planting his hands on your shoulders to turn you around to him, and then gripping the sides of your arms as if they were his salvation. His eyes searched yours, and the heartbreak he found as you tried to look away threatened to make his knees buckle. So he hooked an index finger under your chin to tilt your head up to him, resting his forehead against yours. Moving his thumb to smooth out the furrow in your brow, he huffed at the stubborn frown that refused to budge.
“I am sorry. I truly am. I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know how to react. I want you, and I did then, too. But I just…didn’t think it was real. I swear I thought you were joking at first. It’s why I let the guys see. Then I saw you in the parking lot, and you were actually sad, and I just panicked. I just don’t think I was ready back then. But I swear to God, I can’t bear another six months of the cold shoulder. I love you, you know. I’ve just been too much of an idiot to realise it.”
For a whole minute, you just stare at him unblinkingly. Then, suddenly, your face crumples, limbs slackening in his grip. He holds you through it, letting you sob into his chest as he coos reassurances and apologies to you until you pull back from his embrace to look at him questioningly once more.
“Why now?” Your words make Javi smile, and he cocks a brow at you.
“You really thought I’d let that idiot take you out before I told you how I feel?”
You look even more confused now, which is confusing him in turn.
“Wait, what idiot?” There’s no twinkle in your eye - no smirk tugging at your lips. Not a joke.
“The one who…asked you out?” Javi cocks his head at you, watching your frown deepen.
“Who?” The absolute befuddlement on your face is on the verge of making him snigger, and he feels his lips twitching already.
“The-does Murphy know? That you weren’t busy tonight?” His overworked mind supplies the answer to him, and he has never more in his life wanted to punch and hug his other partner simultaneously.
“Oh, yeah. He asked cause Connie wanted to know if she could come over? I guess she must have gotten caught- oh. Oh.” Javi gives you a moment to reach the same conclusion he did, and both of you end up bursting out in laughter at the same time.
But Steve was the one with the biggest grin when, come Monday morning, a bottle of premium whiskey and a brand new watch sat on his desk with a little note:
Well played, motherfucker.
What is it they say about couples adopting each other’s habits when they get into a relationship? Javi’d picked up your so-called hobbies within a weekend.
You ended up spending enough time with each other to pick up everything else, too. Call it cliché, but atleast you weren’t boring. Or, you know, going on dates with imaginary guys that existed only in Steve’s extremely limited imagination. Win-win.
hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist: @imherefordeanandbones @theywhowriteandknowthings, @josephquinnswhore,@millerscoffee, @ nostalxgic, @sscorpiiiio, @pedrosaidsheispunk
dividers by @reveriesources
#kali rambles#kali writes#javier peña narcos#narcos fanfiction#narcos imagine#narcos#javier pena narcos#javier peña#javier peña x reader#javier peña x you#javier pena fluff#javier pena fanfiction#javi peña x reader#javier pena fic#javier pena imagines#javier pena x reader#javier pena x you#javier peña imagine#javier peña x fem!reader#javier peña smut#joel miller x f!reader#javier peña fluff#javier peña x female reader#javi peña x you#javier peña angst#steve murphy#kali is BACK baby
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Comfort
summary: javi’s always happy to come home to you and your snores.
pairing: fem!reader x javier pena
contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, established relationship, consensual somnophilia, unprotected (rough) sex, praise kink, creampie
word count: 1.2k
an: this was originally requested by @honeybrowne for kinktober but i didn’t get to finish it but now it’s her birthday and it is doneeeee. happy birthday bestie, love you always! 🥰
pedro characters masterlist | requests open
When Javier slips into the dark quiet of his apartment he hears your soft snores immediately, and his body relaxes at the sound. You’re here, you’re safe, and now that he’s home with you he feels safe too.
It had been a rough day full of deadends and slaps on the wrists from higher ups. Too tired to take a shower, he heads to the bedroom immediately, stripping himself naked before joining you under the ridiculously fluffy duvet you’d convinced him to buy.
Soft things. Comfort. You deserve that Javi.
He’d agreed begrudgingly though he wasn’t sure any of that was true. Admittedly, he does sleep better these days, but maybe that’s because you’re at his side.
All he can do is look at you, watching with wonder as you sleep peacefully. You’re completely naked, and his body can’t just ignore that, especially when you shiver, rolling over to press yourself into his warmth. He pulls you closer, using a strong hand to hoist your leg over his hip, his erection nestled in between the pliant silkiness of your thighs. He’s hungry for you, and while he’d love to skip the preamble and sink into you, he knows he has to get you ready.
His mouth finds your neck and you whimper softly when his teeth sink into the skin there, his tongue soothing the spot afterwards. He gets a hand on your breast, gropes it with a needy sound in the back of his throat. His mouth nips and kisses at your neck as he takes your nipple in between his fingers, rolling it gently. He knows your body, and that with just a little bit of this you’ll be wet for him in no time even in your sleep. But touching you is a luxury and he takes his time, savoring the taste and feel of your skin so tenderly that it allows you to continue sleeping, relaxing into him further.
“You’re so perfect, querida,” He whispers when his hand drifts between your legs, two fingers sliding easily into your slick, wet pussy.
Carefully, he turns you over, holding you open for him and his buries himself into your tight heat. He can’t hold in the loud groan that builds in his chest when your walls flutter around him. He holds you tight, rocks himself into you gently a few times, burying his nose into the nape of your neck to inhale your scent. And when you stir, the pleasure blooming in your lower belly lifting you out of sleep he dusts kisses across your skin.
“Javi,” You breathe sleepily, your hand reaching back to grope at his hip.
“Hi, baby,” He murmurs against your throat, thrusting into you harder now that you’re awake.
“You needed me?” Its a teasing question that both of you already know the answer to and you yelp softly when his teeth nip at your skin.
“I always need you, baby, you and your perfect little pussy.”
“Fuck, Javi, yeah,” You whine, hand moving up his body to get your hand firmly planted in his hair.
“Look at how well you take me. Even in your sleep, you let me in so easily,” He whispers sinfully into your ear, and all you can do is nod feverishly, pushing your ass back against him to work him deeper into you.
He rolls you over onto your stomach, bringing his hips all the way back to pound into you with a roughness that makes your eyes roll back into your head, “You were made for me weren’t you? I can fuck you whenever I want because you’re made to take my cock.”
“Yeah, baby, made to make you cum. For you to use,” You gasp, fingers searching for a pillow in the darkness to anchor you as he fucks you almost brutally.
“You’re so pretty, you smell so good, feel so good,” He praises, his breathing quick and harsh.
“All for you, Javi. Always for you, I love you.”
“I love you too baby, gonna show you, fill your pussy with me,” He grits out between his teeth, a subtle sheen of sweat coating his skin from the strength and length of his movements.
He must be close because with those words he snakes his hand between you and the mattress, starts rubbing perfect circles into your clit that make you clench around him. His pace doesn’t stop and soon, your orgasm floods your body, a soft cry leaving your lips as you’re brought to the peak. Javi follows suit, grinding himself into you to not waste a single drop— he had promised to fill you up.
As the room quiets, nothing but the sound of deep regulating breaths and the sounds of the night pouring in through an open window Javi says something that surprises you.
“Move in with me.”
“What?” You shift under him the best you can, turning to look at him.
His eyes are wide, full of hesitancy but he repeats his previous words, even adds some reasoning, “Move in with me. When’s the last time you slept at your own apartment, mi amor? The last time you did laundry there? I bet your plants are hanging on by a thread.”
You study him for a moment, “Are you sure?”
He nods slowly, pulling you closer, “Would I ask if I wasn’t?”
It never gets old, the concept of him loving and choosing you despite the way he lived before, and your heart quickens as you answer, “Okay, yeah, I’ll move in with you. Begrudgingly you add, “And my plants are just fine.”
He grins, a mischievous glint in his eye, “I know the perfect way to celebrate.”
“Mmm, what’s that?”
He pins you down again, kissing his way down your body until his tongue finds your sex. And he stays there for what feels like hours, thoroughly celebrating the next step in your relationship by bringing you to the peak of multiple orgasms.
javi taglist: : @lesbianhotch, @hotchs-bitch, @jazzelsaur, @bubblybubbubs, @sheresh0y, @midnightwolf04, @mccn-bcys, @jxvipike
#javier peña x reader#javier peña x fem!reader#javier pena smut#javier peña fanfiction#narcos fanfiction#arson writes narcos#not sfw
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happy new year lovely!! thank you for blessing us with wonderful content <33
i saw that youre taking request and id love to ask for maybe a flashback fic with javi and dulzura when she's at the height of her pregnancy. javi dealing with cravings, mood swings, and h0rniness and all that lol oki tyyy
AN | Oooh, I’ve missed these two! Can be read as a stand alone or part of the ‘verse! ❤️
Pairing | Javier x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language,
Word Count | 3.8k
Masterlist | Main, Javier, A Good Man ‘Verse
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You were going to kill Javier. If not that, you were at least never letting him touch you again.
It was the height of summer, and you were hot, miserable, and very pregnant. There were moments when you wanted to cry about it, moments when you really just wanted to throw yourself in the shower and stand under the cold water, and moments where every little thing annoyed you.
There were only a few months left…you could manage that. And then you’d never have to do it again. Good on Javier for actually going through with getting a vasectomy.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
When Javi woke up, it was still the middle of the night. He reached across the best for you but found your side of the bed empty. He sighed lightly, having wanted to pull your warm, soft body into his. Ever the diligent husband, he slipped out of the bed in search of you. He completed a trek through the upstairs, checking in on the four kids before making his way downstairs. If you weren’t up there, you had to be somewhere down there, and if he knew anything about you by now, he had a feeling you’d be in the kitchen.
“Dulzura?” he called out softly when he saw the faint light in the dining room. He walked in and did his best to stifle his laugh; it wasn’t at you per se, but the sight was a little funny. You were sitting at the table, reading a book while you munched on some mac n cheese - the cheap Kraft kind is what you insisted upon these days - doused in sriracha and a side of pickles. Tears were running down your cheeks as you looked up at him and sniffled, “baby, what’s wrong?”
“Javi,” you wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand before holding up your book, “he just told her that he’d been waiting for her and he’d always wait for her because she’s his soulmate. They’re so in love and now they get a second chance!”
So in love just like we are, he wanted to say. Instead he came over and crouched at your side, gently taking the book out of your hands before touching your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek. You huffed slightly, but leaned into his touch, “you’re up late, honey.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted quietly, on the verge of tears again, “and your kid was hungry. So I came down to make a snack and then I remembered I’d left my book down here so I started reading and then just…eating and reading.”
“Eating and reading,” he echoed as you nodded sweetly, “aye, what am I going to do with you, huh?”
“It wasn’t my fault,” you pouted and Javi couldn’t help but laugh before he leaned up and pressed a kiss to your lips, “Bump makes it hard to sleep comfortably and I’m always hungry.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered and truthfully, if he could have taken the burden of being pregnant away from you, he would have in a heartbeat, “it’s not for much longer though.”
You mulled over his words for a few moments before a new wave of emotion washed over you and big, fat crocodile tears welled up and ran down your cheeks, “I-I don’t want to be pregnant anymore-”
“It’ll be over soon - forever.”
“I don’t want that either,” you choked on a sob as you reached for his hand and gave it a tight squeeze, “I’m not ready for another baby. I want to stay pregnant.”
“Honey,” he chuckled fondly, reaching to put his arms around you and holding you as tightly as possible. You hugged onto your husband as best as you could despite your bump and held onto him as tightly as possible, “it’s okay - it will be okay. We’re gonna figure it all out together, okay?”
“Okay,” you nodded in agreement, “you’re right. You’re always right. You’re so smart. I love you.”
“I love you too,” he gently rubbed your back in soothing circles as he let you get it all out, tears wetting the cotton of his shirt, “it’s okay, just get it all out. I’ve got you.”
“I know,” you pulled back to look at him, to study your sweet, sweet husband and his handsome face. You tenderly cradled his face in your hands, “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“Now you’re just being dramatic,” he teased softly, “but I’ll allow it. C’mon, let me take you to bed and help you get comfortable.”
“Can I bring the pickles?”
“Of course.”
“Will you read to me?”
“Whatever you desire, Dulzura.”
“Do you still love me?”
“More than anything in this world,” and with that he pressed a kiss to your lips and took your hand in his, “more than anything.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
It wouldn’t be a normal evening in the Peña household without some sort of chaos. And usually, it wouldn’t bug you or phase you but right now, being so pregnant and going through a particularly emotional period caused you to almost have a breakdown. Lucia was a bundle of energy bouncing around the house as she pretended to be a popstar. Santi and Thea were playing with Legos, something that still made you nervous so you kept stealing glances at them every few minutes to make sure no one was choking. Javi was sitting on the couch, feet kicked up on the coffee table as he graded some papers.
Meanwhile you were in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner with Diego following underfoot. He must have been going through some sort of phase because he was really clingy with you and wanted to be around you all the time. Javier had offered to help but it was already hard enough with one of your boys next to you, so you’d insisted you had it handled. Once the counters were cleaned off, you leaned against the counter and let out a heavy sigh.
“Mama?” Diego tugged on your leg and gave you a sweet smile. You reached down and ran a hand through his dark curls and gave him a soft smile, “are you okay?”
“Oh honey,” the little look of concern on his face made you want to cry. You hated the idea that he could tell that you weren’t feeling great. You kneeled down as best as you could before pulling him into a hug, “I’m okay, Diego. I’m just tired is all. It’s not anything you or your sisters and brother did. None of you are in trouble or anything. I love you so much, my sweet boy.”
“I love you too,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek and you felt a wave of emotion wash over you. He really was the sweetest little thing and you were just so lucky that he was your son, “it’ll be okay, mama.”
“I know,” you smiled softly, “how could it not be when I’ve got all of you? Hey, we need to make brownies for Lucia’s class tomorrow, do you want to help me?”
“Okay,” he nodded happily, his big brown eyes lighting up, “can I lick the spoon?”
“Of course, mijo,” you promised, grabbing the back of the counter and slowly standing back up. You cast a quick look into the living room and found that everything was still as it should be. A small sigh of relief escaped your lips. It wasn’t that you were inherently worried that something was going to happen, but you’d been on edge lately, all part of the wonderful pregnancy experience.
Diego popped to the other side of the counter and climbed onto one of the stools to watch you closely, ready to be your little assistant. You grabbed a bowl and a few other utensils before turning to the pantry to pull out the things you’d need. Part of you had been tempted to just use a box mix, but you wanted to go full on and make everything from scratch. You’d never thought you’d turn into one of those moms, but here you were.
But as you pushed through all the stuff that was there, you realized that the items you needed weren’t there. A heavy sigh escaped your lips, and you took a moment to calm yourself down. Everything was fine…in the grand scheme of things, it was no big deal. But right now it seemed like a huge deal.
“Javi?” you heard him hum in response but he didn’t even look up from the paper he was looking over. You crossed your arms over your chest and sighed heavily, “Javier. Can you come here, please?”
Almost as if he could sense that something was wrong, he immediately set down his stack of papers before coming over to you. He offered you a tentative smile as a frown settled on your features. Uh oh, “what’s wrong, Dulzura?”
“Where are the things to make the brownies?” you asked and confusion clouded his features. That just confirmed your suspicions that he indeed had not purchased anything that you needed, “did you not get the stuff?”
“W-what stuff?” Javier had been through a lot in his life and dealt with some bad, scary men. But that still didn’t compare to how nervous his pregnant wife made him, “baby?”
“Seriously?” you groaned and threw your hands up in exasperation, “I asked you for one thing and you couldn’t manage it?”
“I don’t remember,” he admitted sheepishly, “I’m sorry, honey.”
“I gave you a list,” you sighed heavily, “as you were leaving this morning. I asked you to stop at the store and pick up the stuff when you picked the kids up.”
“Oh,” yeah…you had done that. And he had managed to let it slip his mind. He even remembered that he’d taken the list and put in the visor of the car so he’d remember. Which he obviously hadn’t done, “I completely forgot. I’m so sorry, Dulzura.”
“I guess at least you remembered to pick up the kids,” your voice was thick with tears and Javier entered into crisis solving mode. He put a hand on your shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze before wiping away the tears that rolled down your cheeks, “they’re more important.”
“We can get the stuff for brownies tomorrow, yeah?”
“No,” you pouted deeply, crocodile tears welling up, “Lucia needs them for class tomorrow in the morning. I planned on making them tonight so they were fresh in the morning.”
“How about I go and everything now?” he offered and you knew that his response was logical but you really didn’t want to admit it, “and then I’ll bake the brownies.”
“It’s not the same! The stores are going to be closed,” you huffed slightly, “it’s already getting late and oh no. The kids - we should be getting them ready for bed. I don’t want them up too late. I’m a horrible mother.”
“Dulzura,” Javier put his hands on your upper arms and gave them a gentle squeeze. He would do anything to keep you from crying, to keep the tears from falling down, “it’s okay. It’s still before their bedtime and we can start getting them ready. Once they’re asleep, I can make cookies or something…Lucia will have something to bring to class, yeah? And you are anything but a bad mother. You are a wonderful, amazing, mother - the best.”
“Really?” you perked up at his sweet words and he nodded before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “I love them so much. And you. All of you.”
“I know, and we love you too,” he whispered, “very, very much. How about you sit down and relax and I’ll put the kids to bed?”
“There’s four of them,” you sniffled softly, “that’s a lot of them! How can I just leave you to do everything?”
And you were crying again but you wrapped your arms around Javi, holding onto him tightly. He rubbed your back gently, softly whispering sweet words of reassurance in your ear. He’d been through this with you enough by now to know that it was a whole lot of hormones talking, “it’s not everything. It’s really not a big deal, I promise. Besides, how many times have you done it alone in the past?”
“B-but-”
“But nothing,” he insisted firmly, and your lip trembled with effort as you tried not to cry. He was just so sweet and wonderful that it made your heart constrict, “I will handle it this time and you will relax. That is an order.”
“Okay,” you nodded and he kissed you softly, “thank you, Javi.”
“Nothing to thank me for,” he smiled and oh. He had the loveliest smile, “they’re not just your kids, they’re ours. And you’re currently growing the last one, and you deserve and need to relax.”
Before you could say anything else, a small pair of arms wrapped your legs. You looked down and found Diego looking at both of you, “you’re a good mom.”
“Yeah?” you asked as Javi picked him and settled him on his hip. Diego was getting a little big to be picked up and carried around easily, but Javier would do it for any one of his kids as long as he could and they were willing, “I think you’re a great kid, Diego. I’m so lucky to be your mom.”
“C’mon,” Javi put his free hand on your lower back and started to guide you to the living room, “you can say good night to the kids and then I’ll get them to bed.”
“They’re such good kids,” your voice almost cracked with emotion and Javi nodded softly in response, “all of them. We’re so lucky.”
“Mhmm,” he watched as the rest of your brood came over to hug you, “and all of us are very lucky to have you.”
“I love you,” you whispered to your husband, “thank you for putting up with all my craziness and all of…this.”
“It’s not putting up with you - I love you. That’s what you do for those you love,” you gave him a sweet smile, “and I happen to love you very, very much Dulzura.”
“Forever?”
“Forever.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You always wanted Javi. In the metaphorical and very literal sense. You’d always enjoyed a very…healthy sex life with him, but being pregnant made you want him even more. And, you know, that was nothing that Javi would ever complain about.
This particular evening found you waiting for Javier to get home and for the first time in a while, you had the house all to yourself. It might have been some planning on your part, but it wasn’t hard to convince Chucho to take the kids for the night. That man loved spending time with his grandkids, and who were you to deny him?
As soon as you heard the door opening, you almost ran (as much as you could these days) to the door to greet him. His face lit up when he realized you were right there, and he immediately dropped his bag so he could pull you into a hug, “hey baby.”
“I’m so glad you’re home,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him towards you, pressing your lips to his, hungry and searching, “missed you. Been thinking about you all day.”
“Yeah?” he almost growled at the feeling of your lips on his, “missed you too, Dulzura.”
You continued to kiss him, finding it easy to get lost in him. You started to drag him towards the stairs, feeling your need for him increase with every passing moment, “need you, Javi.”
“W-wait,” he groaned, loath to pull apart from you, “the kids.”
“They’re not here,” you grinned coquettishly, “Pop has them for the night. We don’t need to pick them up until tomorrow afternoon.”
“Seriously?” He loved his kids, he really did. But sometimes having four of them made it hard to get a moment alone with you. And knowing that he had the entire evening alone with you caused him to almost lose it. You nodded and he pulled off his jacket, not even bothering to hang it up, instead tossing it on the floor. He almost growled as he kissed you again, letting his lips trail along your jaw and then down your neck. You made a soft sound and Javi groaned, before pulling back and looking at you, “you’re going to kill me, Dulzura.”
“Can’t have you dying on me until you fuck me at least one more time,” you reached for his hand and started to pull him up the stairs. Not that he needed any encouragement, he was the one that ended up leading you, “eager, are we?”
“It’s been a long minute since we’ve done this,” he reminded you, “and even longer since we’ve been able to go without any kids around.”
“We still have one around technically,” you teased, rubbing your hand over your bump, and he snorted in amusement, “hey - this is your fault so don’t laugh!”
“It takes two,” he taunted with nothing but fondness lacing his voice, “never heard you complaining before, baby. And last time I checked who was the one that was bad at remembering their birth control?”
“Who could have gotten a vasectomy years ago?” he laughed, loving that you were able to give it all right back to him.
“Alright, I’ll give you that one,” he threw open the bedroom door and immediately ushered you towards the bed, “it was both of us.”
“Yes - but no regrets,” you insisted and nodded in agreement. You sat down and stopped for a moment, suddenly feeling very conscious of what you were wearing. You were in an oversized, old ratty sweater, and some unassuming pajama shorts. It wasn’t anything special and it made you grimace for a moment. Javi seemed to catch and put finger under your chin and turned your face up towards his, “hi.”
“Hi,” he repeated tenderly, “what’s on your mind?”
“No-”
“Don’t lie to me,” his eyebrows raised and you stuck your tongue out at him, “we’ve been together over ten years now. I know you a little better than that.”
“It’s just….look at me,” you pointed at yourself, and he shrugged in confusion, “I just feel…not very sexy. Not that I have to feel that way, but I feel frumpy. Like a sad and frumpy mom.”
“Oh baby,” he got on his knees in front of you and gently took your face in his hands. You offered him a soft smile; getting all emotions; over this hadn’t been part of your plan, “you could be wearing a potato sack and you would still be the most beautiful thing in the world. You are so gorgeous and you don’t even have to try.”
“But I could-”
“But we could be or do a lot of things,” he dragged his thumb along your lower lip, “but I love you just like this. You’re perfect to me. And I couldn’t care less if you were in old pajamas or lingerie or nothing at all. Nothing could make me love you any less. I could only love you more - and I do every day.”
“Fuck off,” you laughed in between your sniffles and a huge grin grew across his face, “why do you always have to be so wonderful? I love you so much, Javier. So, so much.”
“I love you too,” he grinned and leaned up to kiss you, “I mean it though.”
“I know,” you promised, scooting back on the bed and tugging on his arm to pull him along with you, “now touch me. Need you, Javier.”
“I can do that,” he made quick work of undoing the buttons on his shirt and tossing to the side. He got on the bed, his legs around yours as he leaned down to kiss you, caging you in between his arms. You felt like you were going to melt into putty at the feel of his lips all over your body. He tugged on the hem of your sweater, “may I?”
“Yes,” you were already breathless as he gently started to pull the fabric up your body, hands gently skimming over your soft skin. Gooseflesh raised with every little bit of his touch and your tummy felt like it was all butterflies. His touch was reverent and tender as he pulled off your sweater and tossed it to the side to join his shirt. You hadn’t been wearing a bra and you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes widened.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, leaving a trail of kisses along your collarbones. You made a small sound of happiness as he leaned back and studied you. His fingertips ghosted over some of the stretch marks you’d acquired over the years. Sometimes they made you feel self conscious but they were there for a good reason. And he always reminded you of that, “every little part of you.”
“So are you,” you put your hand on top of his where it rested on your belly and gave it a gentle squeeze. His hand drifted to the waistband of your shorts and he gave them a playful little tug that caused you to snort in amusement, “take ‘em off. Unless you don’t wanna-”
“Never,” he playfully nipped at your neck, causing you to sigh wistfully at the feeling on your delicate skin, “I’d never say no to you. Dulzura.”
“So don’t start now,” you nudged him with your leg, “please.”
“Say no more,” he hooked his fingers in the side of your shorts and pulled them down in one fluid motion, letting them join the growing pile. He inhaled sharply at the sight of you on the bed, bare and looking up at him with soft eyes, “like a work of art.”
“You’re wearing too much,” you playfully frowned, hooking a friend through his belt loop, “lose the pants.”
He chuckled warmly before making quick work of stripping down. You looked at him with dark eyes and a hungry look that caused him to tilt his head to the side in amusement, “can I help you?”
“I think you can,” you feigned innocence as you gently nudged him to the side before straddling his hips. He made a low sound, a guttural thing as his hands found purchase on your hips, "you look like you've got something to say, handsome. What is it, hmm?"
"Fuck me," he whispered in awe as you grinned like the Cheshire cat, "please."
"I can do that," you leaned down to kiss him softly, "with pleasure. I love you, Javi.”
“I love you more, Dulzura.”
#javier peña#javier peña x reader#javier Peña x fem!reader#javier Peña x you#javier Peña imagine#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x reader#javier pena#javier pena x you#javier pena x reader
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stand by me. | javier peña
Abstract: You’d be better off without him, he thought. Knew. Because he was greedy, and selfish, and he tended to ruin all the good things life ended up handing him, and you were the best thing that had happened to him in a while.
Words: 1.7K
Content: f!reader; unedited, angst (sorry), hurt/comfort, mentions of death, bruises, a situationship (it's javi so what'd you expect), unrequited feelings (not really reader just believes it), love confession
A/N: i did write this at 5am on little to no sleep so if you see a mistake no you don't. please. would recommend listening to stand by me (florence welch's version)
also on AO3 - masterlist
reblogs and feedback are always greatly appreciated. you can send it here, too
It was not the first time Javier woke up to a weight on his chest.
The early morning lights filtered through drawn curtains cast a feeble glow in your bedroom–he blinked slowly, taking in the whole room, its furniture, its decor, so starkly different from his own. Yours was a lived in home, compared to the blankness of his apartment–he always felt at ease as soon as he walked past the threshold, as soon as he was in your arms, as soon as he was kissing you.
Perhaps it was the reason why he’d come to you the evening before, after all the shit of the day–his ears ringing from the shot, his chest hurting where the bullets had dug into his vest, just a few inches from his skin, from his heart. He’d thought that was going to be it: a flash and no more home, no more warm meals, no more embraces, no more kisses.
He’d sought to drown everything out with you rather than alcohol, and you’d welcomed him with glazed-over eyes and soft words, a hand through his hair and a brush of lips to his temples.
He often thought he did not deserve you. He wondered what the fuck you were doing with someone like him–it caught him off guard each time he woke up in the cradle of your thighs, in the circle of your arms. But he was greedy, and he couldn’t let you go. Hadn’t even tried.
You stirred slowly–perhaps he should’ve. Weren’t you going to be better without him after all? With your tranquil house, and your homely life, and someone who could give you all that you’d deserve and then some. You didn’t need–
“I can hear you thinking,” he sighed at the gentle sound of your voice, not even realizing his breath had picked up until he exhaled and tightened his arm around your shoulders.
Your hand skimmed up his naked side as he glanced down the crown of your head, the tension building in his body giving away when you reached for his shoulder, giving it a squeeze, trapping him close.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, a delicate caress down your arm and then up again, following the bent of your shoulder, the curve of your neck, your head still bowed and gaze turned from him, ear pressed to his chest. “It’s early, you should get some more sleep.”
“Are you going to be here when I wake?” you asked, and his heart stuttered, a sharp intake of breath that had you shift a little against his side.
No–he rarely stayed, walking out before you woke, turning himself into a creature that inhabited your life only at night. Because he was greedy, and also a coward.
“I should go, I gotta get to work,” he hummed, easing his hold on you.
In return, you tightened yours–he felt your fingers digging into his shoulder, the legs draped over his almost hooking around him to pull him closer, your nose brushing his chest, your lips skimming one of the bruises dotting his skin. He closed his eyes.
“Take the day off,” you protested, words spoken right against his skin.
“Can’t,” his argument felt weak even before it left his lips. He could take the day off–he’d been told to do so, actually. Rest a day or two, recover, go to that girl of yours.
But he couldn’t stay.
“Please,” he felt you turning in the loose circle of his arm, hand coming to rest over your shoulder while resting the other between the two of you to lift yourself up. He caught a glimpse of his bruises and looked away quickly, focusing on your expression instead. “You almost–” he could almost see the words get stuck on the tip of your tongue, gaze flickering down to his chest as your breath shuddered. “Please, Javi.”
In your whisper he suddenly realized the reason why you’d been holding him so tightly–why your head had not left his chest for the whole night, still awake as he dozed off.
You were afraid for him.
He’d always known you weren’t immune to the scares of his job–when he was away longer, when things went south, when he got injured, you always failed to hide the way it affected you, too. He didn’t expect you to, either. But you’d never shown such overt concern, you’d never looked at him the way you were now–with worn out eyes and a trembling lip and a plea on your tongue again and again.
“I shouldn’t have come here,” he shook his head, felt your breath shudder again when he brushed your cheek. “I keep putting all this shit on you, you–”
“Why did you?” you moved closer–he didn’t believe it could be possible without the two of you bleeding into a single being. He brought his arm around your waist, hand brushing up and down your spine
“I don’t know,” he admitted quietly, never ceasing to let his fingertips wander across your skin. He hadn’t even realized he was coming to you until he’d seen the door open in front of him, until he’d tried to burn the day away into your kisses. “Shouldn’t have–”
“I love you,” he froze, movements stilling as he inhaled sharply and looked back at you–when had he looked away? For a fleeting moment, you looked like you hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Then you brushed your hand down his chest, traced the outline of his bruises with a careful touch. “You don’t have to say anything, I just–if anything happens to you–”
“Cariño–” before he could continue, you shook your head, glancing away.
“I know your job is not easy, I know there are risks, I know there’s nothing I can do and I know there’s nothing you owe me,” a breath he almost interrupted to tell you how wrong you were. “But you coming here–I’m glad you did. Because I feel like I can’t breathe whenever you’re away, when I don’t know how you are, and there’s this weight on my chest that goes away only when I see you.”
“I’m sorry,” he couldn’t help it–guilt clawed at his throat as he watched the tears well up at the corners of your eyes, and all he wanted to do for a split second was jolt away, as if burned, leave you there and spare you all the hurt he could.
But you were shaking your head again, forcing yourself to even your breath that had started coming in small bursts. He tightened his arms around you at that, a desperate attempt at soothing you, soothing himself, and when your hand reached his face, a delicate brush of fingertips over his unshaved stubble, he was rooted to the spot again.
“Don’t be,” you whispered, head lowering as if to kiss him–but you didn’t, and his chest ached where your other hand rested, right above his heart, right over one of the bruises. “I’ve known from the beginning it was going to be like this. I knew that letting you in meant making myself vulnerable, and I still wanted to. I always want you to, even if it’s just a night. I’m okay with that, Javi.”
“You really shouldn’t be,” he scoffed, and you just shrugged, his hand on your back following the curve of your spine up to the nape of your neck. He wasn’t even aware he was trying to bring you closer, even when his words said the opposite. “You deserve–”
“No, don’t,” your thumb caught the corner of his mouth, then shifted up to brush the ends of his mustache back in place–they were always messed up after the night, and in that moment in desperate need of a trim. “Don’t tell me what you think I deserve, because whatever it is, it’s not what I want. Even if it’s not the same for you, I don’t care–I knew it was going to be like this, too.”
“It’s not,” the admission sat heavy on his tongue, and he couldn’t even meet your eyes. “I just think I wouldn’t forgive myself if I ended up hurting you.”
He closed his eyes at the feeling of your lips against the hollow of his throat, a shuddering breath leaving him as if you were simultaneously trying to take his breath away and give him new air. He curled his fingers at the nape of your neck.
“It hurts more when you try to keep me out, and push me away, because I do love you,” repeating it was easier, lowering your head a little, just enough to brush your lips to his bruises–you’d done the same the night before, in darkness, and he’d almost shattered under your touch. Perhaps he would shatter now, thousands and thousands of pieces weaving themselves into your bedding, remaining there forever. “I’m not the one that needs protecting, Javi. I just need you to–”
“I’m sorry,” it suddenly felt like the only thing he could say, holding you even closer–by then one of your legs was slotted between his, half your body draped over his, your weight a comfort he didn’t know he was seeking.
“You came back to me with wounds that tell me I could’ve lost you,” another gentle brush against his chest, where he felt like the skin was about to split open and reveal all of himself to you. “Right here. Right over your heart. And I don’t know what–you’d be gone, and I–” he couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes, lest he saw your tears that wet his chest when you lowered your forehead to it, exhaling slowly. “Just this once, please, stay.”
You’d be better off without him, he thought. Knew. Because he was greedy, and selfish, and he tended to ruin all the good things life ended up handing him, and you were the best thing that had happened to him in a while.
But he guided your head back gently to kiss your forehead, felt the exhale escaping you and hitting his chin–lowered his lips to the bridge of your nose, then to your mouth, a harsher kiss that had you press your body against his with another broken sigh.
“I’ll stay,” he said, lips still to yours.What he meant was, I love you too.
#redahlia#javier peña x you#javier peña x reader#javier pena x reader#javier peña x ofc#javier peña#javier peña fanfiction#javier peña fic#javier pena#javier peña x f!reader#javier peña x fem!reader#javier peña x y/n#narcos fanfiction#pedro pascal characters
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La Golondrina
Pairing: Javier Peña x CIA!reader
Author’s note: oooooooohhhh bitch plus disclaimer: I do speak and write Spanish and have for several years and will do so as I see fit for this series!! That being said, it won’t always be a perfect translation as I’m working off my grammatical knowledge and handle of the language. Please be patient :-)
Summary: The prologue [1.1k]
Warnings: backstory before the story, canonical type violence, torture
The heat of the room is suffocating. There are no windows, no fans, no fresh air. Sweat rolls down your back and sticks to your body. It's dark and dank and smells like cigarette smoke and mildew. The only light in the room emits from the crack under the door, the only indication you have of how much time has passed. Your eyes have adjusted to the dark as much as they can, and you can just barely make out the blood slicking the floor and the stained tools in the corner.
This has been going on for so long. Maybe a few days. A week? You're really not sure. You don't know where you are, but you know the names and faces of the men who've taken turns busting their knuckles across your face. They've taken their time with you just as promised, withholding food and water as they bleed you out. You've done your best not to scream and cry, to not show weakness, as they tortured you for information and shoved a camera in your face to taunt the Agency. You've stayed strong. You've relied on your training. You've done everything you were supposed to. But you're so tired. You want to be done.
Your head feels like it weighs a million pounds, and all you can do is let it hang dejectedly with your hands behind your back, metal digging unforgivably hard into your wrists. You swear you're burning from the inside out, but that could be the circular burns pressed into your skin. Your ribs ache as your lungs rattle to fight for breath. When will they come back? Did they leave you here to starve? Where the fuck is your team? Are you about to become collateral? The room spins around you, and your stomach churns from the bright pain dancing up your body.
Unconsciousness dangles in front of you like a shiny carrot, and you're about to make the leap when a loud bang sounds somewhere in the building. Automatic gunfire, screams, and loud orders called in Spanish follow closely behind. The cuffs on your wrists keep you from moving to a safer position to protect yourself from stray bullets. Of course, I would survive being tortured by the cartel just to catch an American bullet, you think. You try to shift your feet in a half-hearted attempt to get down, but the floor is too slippery. You'd laugh if your ears didn't feel like they were splitting in half and your sore body wasn't tense with fear.
The gunfire gets closer, and you can barely make out a handful of different voices, but you don't know if you recognize any of them. You don't know when the last time you heard a voice that didn't belong to a loyal sicario. You don't know what the fuck is happening. You let your head loll to the side in defeat and wait for the scale to tip. However this ends, you hope it's quick.
A few more rounds find homes in bodies and walls before the building goes silent. Ringing takes over your senses, and you're almost positive there's blood dripping from your ear. The doorknob jiggles, and you can feel yourself shaking hard. You don't try to stop the tears from rolling down your face anymore. You're too tired. Your body is too weak. You're too ready. Another boom, and you scream as the door crashes down and officers swarm the room. Sunlight floods in and nearly blinds you as you squint against its intensity. Golden bullets wink at you, and barrels swing past you as they clear the room. Nobody gives you a second glance as you sit there, bleeding and trembling.
"Soy CIA! No dispares!" Your voice doesn't sound like your own, all crackly and deep. You repeat it over and over again and hope that you're not hallucinating when you catch the Colombian flag on someone's vest. A hand lands on your knee, and your body jerks painfully to escape it. You kick at the person kneeling in front of you and let out a choked sob, unable to distinguish if the hand is friend or foe.
"Hey, hey," a familiar voice says. You blink through tears, find his brown eyes boring into yours, and slump in relief. "You're okay. We're gonna get you outta here." Javi murmurs. He moves hair out of your face and wipes blood from the side of your head. You lean into his touch and let out a shaky sigh.
"Are they dead?" You ask in English, hoping nobody but him can understand the cruel question. He nods and glances at your own handcuffs, forcing your hands behind you. "Javi, I need you to say it. I need to hear the words. Please." You beg. His hands gently frame your face and make you look at him as his eyes scan your injuries.
"They're all dead. Every single one, okay? You're safe now." He says, and you nod. Steve steps into your eyeline just enough to show you the key in his hands before he moves behind you to unlock the cuffs. Everyone is silent as they watch you. Based on the looks on their faces and how bad you feel, it's a miracle you survived.
"I'm gonna have to maneuver them to get you out. It's probably gonna hurt." Steve warns.
"Just do it." You urge and clench your jaw. The metal starts moving, and a pathetic moan slips from your chapped lips. If it weren't for you crying in pain, you would be able to hear a pin drop. Javi keeps you upright as Steve works at the cuffs, and the second the metal drops from your wrists, you fall into Javi's chest.
"I've got you. You're okay." The words are soothing, and the tone is kind, but you sob anyway. You cling to him like a liferaft as the shock takes over.
You don't remember exactly what happened after that. You know what they've told you. You know what's written down in a classified folder postmarked for Washington and forever relegated to the White Room. You know what injuries sent you into emergency surgery and which would cause aches for years. But the only thing you can say for certain about that rescue is that you heard Javi's radio chatter in Spanish and English, demanding an update. Steve tried to say something, but Javi beat him to it. Your eardrum was perforated, but you heard his words loud and clear.
“La Golondrina está libre.”
#wanted#javier peña x female reader#javier peña x f!reader#javier peña x fem!reader#javier pena fic#javier pena narcos#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena x reader#javier peña#javier pena x you#javier pena angst#javier pena series#narcos netflix#steve murphy
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Just Dumb Enough to Try
Chapter 1: Wishful Drinking
Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader
Rating: Explicit (18+ only)
Warnings: Masturbation, voyeurism, binge drinking, smoking, swearing, nsfw, dirty talk, movie nerd shit, end of season 2 canon, attempts at humor, vulnerable Javi, touch-starved reader, hookup culture
Summary: In 1993, you met Javier Peña in San Antonio. You made an emotional and physical connection with him. Now it's 1998 and you're starting a new chapter of life in Laredo with your fiancé. And who else walks back into the picture, but the man who left you high and dry five years ago.
Notes: Music is a big inspiration in writing this, so I'm making a Spotify playlist for each chapter. Playlist for this chapter. I really wanted to make something where Javi can be soft, vulnerable, goofy, etc. Because CUTE. I've written a few chapters ahead and cross-posted on AO3 here. Let me know what ya think!! Pls be gentle because this is my first attempt at fan fiction in ages.
Apartment #303, Timberhill Commons, San Antonio, TX
November 29, 1993
-
What the fuck am I even doing?
You sigh and grab a short black dress out of the closet in front of you, then stretch it on over your head. Thankfully it’s a flexible fabric, otherwise it wouldn’t have fit over your plump body. Granted, your ass stretches the material so it’s about 2 inches shorter than when Michelle wears it, but whatever. You turn to look in the full-length mirror and suppose the garment isn’t too far out of your comfort zone. It clings to every curve of your body and the neckline dips low enough to tease the beginnings of your breasts, which are practically spilling out of a push-up bra.
I look hot.
Michelle saunters into her bedroom and hands you one of the rum and cokes she’s holding. She sits cross-legged on her plush bed, sips her drink, then sets it down next to the boombox on her side table. She grabs a compact out of the table and examines the makeup she had been casually applying for the past two hours, “Did you find one you like?”
You give a reassuring (and slightly played up) smile, even though she’s not looking, “Yeah! This is super cute. Thank you for letting me borrow it.”
“Hopefully it pays off so you can finally get laid,” Michelle giggles and closes her compact. She runs a well-manicured hand through her beautiful curly auburn hair.
You take a long sip of your drink, eyebrows raised at her, then sit down in front of the mirror and rifle through your makeup bag. I fucking wish. Michelle thinks this is an easily accomplished feat, but she looks like a goddess. Whenever you two go out to bars, men are entranced by her perfect body, honey brown eyes, and flirtatious personality. Comparatively, you feel like a garbage can (with the personality of a raccoon that hides in a garbage can).
Which apparently comes across to other people, because you haven’t been intimate (physically or emotionally) with anyone in a long time. You’ve been able to talk yourself into pursuing other interests after you broke up with your last girlfriend two years ago, with few exceptions between then and now.
And this is how Michelle talked you into going clubbing with her. She advised the previous day that it was, “literally impossible for a chick to go home alone” when clubbing. Which is undoubtedly a gross exaggeration, but you figure it wouldn’t hurt to try. You need to blow off some steam, anyway. Might as well.
Even the thought of someone touching you gives you goosebumps. You try to recall what it feels like to have another person’s warm skin against yours and can’t remember what it’s like. A sense of extreme loneliness echoes throughout your chest.
“Is anyone meeting us there?” You ask, attempting to pull yourself out of your head and change the subject from your (lack of a) sex life. You pull a tube of mascara out and start coating your eyelashes.
“No, it’s just us,” Michelle reclines atop her hot pink comforter and starts flipping through the Cosmopolitan magazine next to her. She lets out a gasp and squeals, “Look at this! Cosmo’s sex horoscope says that you’re ‘super likely to fall for whoever you connect with this week—especially if you’re hooking up!’ Oh my god, that’s perfect for you!”
You roll your eyes, “I’m not exactly rolling in prospects right now, but sure.”
“Ok, I know you don’t buy into it, but last month,” she sits up to face you in all seriousness, “my sex horoscope was all, ‘you will make a spicy connection.’ and then I met Mario, who was so hot.”
You don’t point out that Mario had a wife and kids he neglected to tell Michelle about before they started dating. Spicy indeed. You gently remind yourself that, while she is acting nonchalant about Mario now, Michelle hid herself in her room for a week after she discovered his betrayal. She is actually a very sensitive person, even though she tries not to let it show.
You’ve known her since you were both 14. She’s your stepmom’s stepsister’s daughter, but just refer to each other as cousins. Your family would come visit your stepmom’s family in Texas during Christmas and summer break. You and Michelle immediately clicked when you met, both teenagers fiending for an escape from reality by any means necessary. You could make the argument that, 13 years later, it’s not that different.
You finish applying your makeup and chug the rest of your drink before the two of you call a cab to take you downtown. Immediately after your stilettos hit the concrete sidewalk outside your apartment building, you regret wearing such a ridiculous outfit. It’s uncomfortable. But at least you look sexy. You both light a cigarette while waiting for the cab. It’s an unseasonably warm night. Between that and a fuck ton of rum warming your insides, you are almost breaking a sweat.
The cab ride downtown takes 10 minutes. This allows you and Michelle time to take pulls of whiskey from the flask in her purse. By the time you stumble up to the bouncer and hand him your ID, you feel fucking invincible.
“Minnesota, eh?” the Bruce Willis lookalike asks before handing the driver’s license back to you.
You roll your eyes playfully and retort, “giddy up, cowboy.”
There’s a joke about Texas in there somewhere, I’m sure.
Michelle pulls you along by your hand through a crowded room up to a bar before the bouncer can offer you more than a confused look and your ID back. There’s a DJ set up on the stage playing “Shoop” by Salt-n-Pepa. The dance floor is not as busy as you’d hoped it would be, but it’s only 10:00pm so you imagine it will seem more approachable (ie: so crowded nobody will pay attention to your terrible dancing) later.
Michelle finally gets through to a bartender. You don’t really need another drink. In fact, you probably shouldn’t have another for at least an hour, but your self-control is out the window, so you get one anyway.
Once the two of you find a hightop that’s unoccupied, you impulsively light a cigarette and glance around the room, and make eye contact with a man seated a few tables away. You can’t make out much in the way of facial features because of the dim lighting (and your poor eyesight), but you can tell he has a mustache. He is sitting with another guy whose back is to you. Your gut reaction (read: drunk reaction) is to whip your head the other way and hiss loudly at Michelle, “That guy is staring at me!”
“What guy?”
You gesture behind you. Her eyes snap to him immediately.
“He’s still looking,” she and then she smiles and waves playfully behind you, “He’s fucking hot. Oh shit, babe, he’s coming over.”
As if pulled by a string, your spine straightens. Michelle keeps eye contact with this man while he approaches. Your hand repeatedly flicks your cigarette, not giving a shit if the ash is landing in an ashtray or not.
“Hello ladies, do you mind if I join you?” the mustached man asks as he leans his weight into the table. Now that he’s closer, you see that he is, indeed, fucking hot. One of his hands is on his hip, and you notice he carries himself with confidence.
“Please do,” Michelle purrs. Mustached man sits next to her, “Your friend isn’t going to join us? My girl here could use some company,” She asks, referring to the person who was sharing a table with him. This was also her not-so-subtle way of calling dibs on the hottie, veiled as an attempt to be your wingman.
You look into the dance floor and guzzle your drink until you hear the straw slurp. This was not the way you pictured this going. In fact, this is probably the worst case scenario. The way they’re undressing each other with their eyes, you are undoubtedly going to be ditched… sooner rather than later.
He turns to you, quickly scanning you up and down before settling his gaze back on Michelle, “He’s been trying to ditch me all night, so it doesn’t look like it. I’m Javier, nice to meet you both.” He looks between the two of you as you introduce yourselves. He reaches over the table to give you a firm handshake, then kisses Michelle’s hand. You laugh loudly and roll your eyes.
Fucking hell.
Javier leans his body towards Michelle and starts talking to her in a volume you’re unable to detect over the loud music, and you feel the pang of rejection dig in deeper. You smoke another cigarette and study the people around the club. Anything you can do to distract yourself from Michelle’s giggling. You may or may not blow your smoke directly across the table out of spite.
“I’m going to go to the bathroom and get another drink.” you declare loudly, but neither of your table mates regard you. Shrugging, you peel your sweaty ass cheeks off of the bar stool like velcro and hop down, “Y’all want anything? No? Awesome, ok.”
When you return, predictably, you’re unable to find Michelle and Javier.
Go fucking figure. That’s so like her to ditch me for some stranger. Some fucking guy. Not like we could share a cab back to our apartment or anything.
You’re alone, drunk, feeling rejected by not only this stranger but also your roommate. Dressed up like a doll in fuck-me-heels and a little black dress, you’re so over it. The bouncer makes a comment about you “leaving so soon” as you practically stumble onto the sidewalk.
Maybe I could take him somewhere private…
You look him over again in contemplation, but decide to hail a cab instead.
I’m too horny to think rationally.
The taxi driver is quiet and has the radio playing. You consider giving in to your arousal and touching yourself on the ride home, but manage to cling to the one single decision making skill that tells you it’s not a good idea. Instead, you stew in your outrage over being ditched.
By the time you unlock the door to the apartment, you’re pissed off and spurned but don’t feel confrontational about it. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened and it won’t be the last. As predicted, you hear Michelle’s giggling and a low voice emanating from her room. The door is closed, the light is off.
You take a quick shower, then get dressed in pajama shorts and a tank top. By the time you settle into the dim living room, cuddle into the couch, and start a VHS of Stephen King’s IT, you’re feeling much more comfortable and slightly less shitfaced.
From behind her closed bedroom door, Michelle lets out a strangled moan and Javier’s deep groan overlaps it. Breath catches in your throat as your cunt clenches. You yearn for someone to touch you in a way that makes you lose control of your surroundings like that. Seemingly with a mind of its own, your pelvis thrusts up, the change in pressure causing a sweet tingle of pleasure to ripple up the middle of you. Your body calls out desperately for more.
You give in to the urge to expose yourself in the living room, pulling your tank top up just over the swell of your breasts. You pinch one of your pert nipples and begin rolling it between your fingers. Your whimpers turn you on even more. The possibility that they could hear you, they could come out and see you…
See, this is where it would be helpful to be sober, because you could rationalize that what you want to do isn’t a good idea. Alas, you are drunk, so without thinking twice, you tiptoe into your dark bedroom, tank top still pulled above your tits, and lean up against the shared wall so you can be closer to them.
You squeeze your breast while your other hand runs over your clothes against your pussy. You’re so worked up, you’ve soaked through your shorts. Michelle begs “please fuck me… please… please, baby, please.”
There’s a loud thump against the shared wall. Javier growls and Michelle gasps. The pace they’re going is slow. You can tell because you feel him slamming her into the shared wall.
Your hand slides under the waistband of your shorts and you pull them down to the floor. You run your nails through your bush down into your lips, and spread your hot, wet desire up and down your pussy. You close your clit between two fingers, then slide your hand from side to side at the same pace you hear them going.
You think about how fucked it is for you to be eavesdropping and touching yourself. You wish it was you being slammed into at an excruciatingly slow pace, letting the pleasure mount. You could cum just at the thought, but you want to go further in this act of wanton voyeurism.
“Please, please, go faster," Michelle cries out. Javier groans and starts fucking her faster. The tremors against the shared wall are vibrating off of your skin now.
The fire inside you grows and a soft moan escapes your lips, despite how hard you were biting down on them. You release your tit and use that hand to start teasing your entrance. You’re so fucking wet, two fingers slide in with little resistance. You open your eyes to look across the room into a full length mirror. You witness yourself tits out, pants down, fucking your hands, illuminated only by the moonlight flooding in through the open window.
As their pants grow more frantic, so do yours. A feral moan comes from Michelle, “Holy fuck- ho- oh my god I’m gonna fucking cum.”
The pounding on the other side of the wall goes faster as the two of them mindlessly let out grunts and moans.
“So- so fucking good. Cum for me baby,” He pants and then you hear Michelle let out a drawn out growl.
Your heart rate speeds and you can’t help but shudder out a series of small whimpers as ecstasy ripples through your body. You watch yourself in the mirror as you cum all over your fingers.
Your orgasm glow is cut short by your own shameful thoughts.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
You adjust your shirt and shorts back into their original position, then shuffle back to your spot on the couch to settle in and act as if you’ve just been watching IT the whole time. After a few minutes, Michelle’s bedroom door opens. Javier walks into the small galley kitchen that runs parallel to the living room. Your heart starts pounding as you refuse to look anywhere other than the TV in front of you. He rummages around to get a glass of water, then wanders into the living room to see what’s playing.
You assume the mustachioed hottie is a creep since he took Michelle home to have sex almost immediately after meeting, so your hackles go up the second he’s in your eyesight.
She fell asleep and left me with her fucking weirdo again.
This is the third time this has happened. About a year prior, you woke up in the middle of the night to find a man, a man that Michelle took home from the bar, standing in your doorway watching you sleep. He left as soon as you sat up in bed. Four months ago, Michelle’s guest talked at you until you could not stay awake any longer. Then when he left he stole both of your wallets. You’ve decided that none of these strangers are safe, and try your damndest to stay awake until they leave, especially since it seems Michelle’s judgment can’t be trusted.
Javier sits down on the opposite arm of the couch and lights a cigarette. “What are you watching?”
“Stephen King’s IT”
“It’s about a killer clown, right?” he inquires, “My cousin was just telling me I should watch this.”
You nod, “Kind of. Although It’s not really a clown, IT can transform into whatever ITs victims are most scared of,” He doesn’t say anything but you feel compelled to continue, “It’s a neat concept. I really like Stephen King’s novels, so this was exciting for me. I think they did a decent job of making it into a miniseries.”
He hums in acknowledgment. The two of you watch in a silence that’s not entirely uncomfortable. Every once and a while he asks questions to connect the dots to what he missed. You’re able to catch enough glimpses of him to take note of his appearance. He has short, dark hair that holds just enough wave to indicate it would be curly if he would let it grow out. His skin is tan and you guess that he’s Hispanic. His nose is sloped and aquiline, which has always been a characteristic you adore. He has a strong chin, wrinkles on his face in places typical for someone in their mid-30’s, and full lips. His default appearance is very serious, or even grumpy, but he has a comforting aura about him that’s easy to be around.
You’re able to relax more after you put in tape two and he seems genuinely excited to find out what happens. You think it’s really adorable how pouty his face gets when the movie gets intense. When you notice him doing this, you unintentionally start laughing.
You cover your face to try to mute it, but fail, and you have a very… loud and “unique” laugh. The noise scares him more than the movie has so far; it makes him jump slightly, then he realizes that you’re laughing. He scoffs at you, “Are you laughing at me?”
“No! I mean- well, yeah kind of. Your face was just so serious. Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” you smirk.
He shakes his head and a big beautiful fucking smile breaks out across his face as he chuckles. Your smirk turns to a grin just because of how handsome he is. It brings pure joy to your heart. Both of you turn your attention back to the screen. His eyes don’t leave the TV as he quietly asks, “What would your IT be?”
You consider this. You’ve thought about it, but, ever the indecisive one, haven’t been able to come to one singular answer. “I suppose it would be spiders. Or heights. Or if I’m talking about my biggest fear, it’s being abandoned by everyone I love forever, but,” you suck your teeth, “I don’t know how IT could successfully pull that one off. So.. spiders, I suppose. What about you?”
“Being alone forever,” he confesses solemnly. You’re kind of taken aback by how honestly he answers. You turn to observe him. He’s looking down into his hands and they’re shaking. He appears to be upset. You’re not sure what triggered this, because everything seemed fine a moment ago, but you beckon him closer. He scoots over enough that you can lay your calves down on his lap. You grab one of his trembling hands. He looks up at you and you meet his dark eyes.
Your skin is electrified by the touch of another human. Especially this human. You fully acknowledge that you’re crushing on him, not just because of how handsome he is, but because of how genuine and kind he seems.
“You’re not going to be alone forever," you tell him sternly. He studies your eyes for a moment, then he nods quickly, squeezes your hand tight, laces your fingers in his, and turns back to the TV. He doesn’t let go of your hand.
You feel secure enough to let yourself fall asleep like that at some point before the movie ends. Which is a real bummer, because you want to know his thoughts on the ending. When you wake up, Javier is gone and you’re covered in your blanket. Michelle is drinking coffee at the other end of the couch while watching TV.
Thankfully, you’d be seeing him soon enough.
Chapter 2
#javier peña#javier pena fanfiction#narcos fanfiction#javier peña x ofc#javier peña x reader#javier peña x you#pedro pascal#javier peña x fem!reader#pedrostories#pedro pascal characters#jdett
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Begging
Pairing: Javier Peña x sex worker!reader
summary: Javier is desperate to see you, and he's not above begging
Warnings: Smut | oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, creampie, lots of fluffy smut even though it wasn't the initial idea, and Javi being a simp
You were already late, the last thing you needed was for the phone to ring.
"Hello?" annoyance was tracing your tone ever so clearly.
"Hi sweetheart"
You stopped what you were doing, the shoe in your hand momentarily forgotten.
"Javi I'm busy" you immediately blew him off.
"mh, how busy?" the sweet sound of him taking a drag from his cigarette traveling through the phone.
"Very busy" you cleared "I'm late to meet a client"
Silence on the other end.
Lately, you kept having a feeling he didn't like when you talked about your other clients.
"don't you usually arrive late on purpose?"
"I do, but just of five minutes, not half an hour"
"I'm sure he'll wait, doll," he said "I can't think of a man who wouldn't"
You rolled your eyes "I don't have time for this Javier, why did you call?"
"you know why baby" his voice was warm and sultry "I've had a long day"
The implications behind his words were clear as day for someone who'd heard every variation of - I need you- falling from his lips.
"It's 3 pm" you reminded him, glancing at your watch
"It is, and I've been thinking of that sweet mouth of yours since 6 a.m," he said, his voice lowering as he skimmed around the office to make sure no one heard.
"well you did nine, you can survive for another two"
" 'm not sure I can sweetheart" he breathed "I need to see you"
"now?"
"now."
"I can't now Javi, I've got a client"
"blow him off"
"you know I can't do that"
"why not?"
"I have a reputation to maintain, and this one pays well"
"I can pay too" he suggested, his desperation cracking through "I can double the amount"
You laughed softly "I doubt you could afford that"
He winced "That much?"
"yes, that much"
He paused for a moment "Y'know we've got cash laying around here, I doubt anyone would notice a few stacks disappearing"
You feigned a gasp "Agent Peña, that's a very serious offense you're joking about, I doubt your boss would be happy to hear you talk like that"
"I doubt Messina would be happy to hear me talk about anything today" he sighed "And 'm not joking, sweetheart, I need you"
You could hear and feel the hunger in his voice
"I can't Javi" you spoke, ignoring the feeling in your chest
"Please baby" he groaned " just five minutes"
You bit down a laugh "We both know what five minutes mean to you"
He almost smiled too now "You want me to beg sweetheart, is that it?" he asked " 'cause I'll do it"
you chuckled sweetly " I've heard you beg plenty of times before baby, it has gotten old" you joked
"Please princess" he prayed nonetheless "I promise I'll make it up to you," he said
"I thought we'd already established you don't have the money"
"That's not what I meant" he murmured, his eyes trained on the agent walking past him, until he was sure he could speak again "I'll make you come as many times as that perfect body of yours can take"
A breath got caught in your throat
"Javi..."
"I'll do anything baby, anything at all that you ask me I'll do it, just please let me see you," he sighed "I just need to feel you... and hear you, and have you all to myself for even just a second"
"I-"
"I miss you" he interrupted you "fuck I miss you so much" he clutched the phone in his hand " 'just need to see you, baby"
You let out a deep breath, begging your mind to switch up on what you knew it had already decided.
Your fingers slowly twisted around the phone's chord as you surrendered to your destiny, to your only weakness.
"this will never happen again, Javier, we clear?"
"yes 'mam"
"you have twenty minutes to get here or I'm calling my client back"
"I'm on my way baby"
__ __ __
The door hadn't even closed that his lips were on you.
His strong hands gripped your waist and felt all of what they could.
You struggled to not stumble backward, but his fingers gripping your hair so as not to leave any space between you, prevented you from it.
"A hi would have been nice" you smiled as he ducked to kiss your neck.
"hi sweetheart" he carelessly murmured against your skin, one of his hands finding your ass.
“god I missed you" he groaned, leaning away just an inch to properly look at you.
"you know, you could have called any of your other women..." you raised an eyebrow.
"what other women?" he said with a smugness only Javier F. Peña could ever get away with.
You couldn't help but laugh "What can I offer you, water, food, anything?"
" I'm not hungry for food sweetheart" his grip on you got tighter
"Mh" you bit down a grin "and what exactly are you hungry for, agent?"
He chuckled, his nose gently brushing yours "How 'bout I show you?" he asked, giving your lips a quick peck and starting towards the couch, as it was the closest surface.
"na-ah" you stopped him "We're going to the bedroom this time, you can wait five more seconds" you scolded, ignoring his frustrated sigh and getting out of his hold to walk towards your room as he followed like a lost puppy.
"There," you said, closing the door after he entered "wasn't so hard now was it?"
He wasted no time getting all over you once more, his lips, his hands, every part of him was claiming you like a lost treasure.
"I have a surprise for you" you murmured, distracting him from his work on your neck.
"oh yeah, what's that?"
You didn't answer, just slowly, excruciatingly slowly, started slipping your black silk robe off.
Javi's mouth turned to sand the moment it fell at your feet.
You were wearing what he could only describe as every men's ticket to heaven, or hell perhaps.
It was a fire red lingerie set, with small panties and an almost see-through bra, but what really got Javier contemplating if perhaps god really existed, were the stockings adorning your legs, and especially that small bow on the hem of each of them.
"fuck" he breathed "You're too good to me" he murmured, hesitating to touch you, as if the moment he did, you would dissipate into thin air
"I know I am"
"Is this what you were wearing to see your client?" he asked, his hand finally finding your waist
You shook your head "No, I wore this just for you"
" you did?" he breathed, his eyes not knowing were on your body to focus.
"I know how you like red"
He let out a small laugh "I think it's just become my favorite color"
He was so overwhelmed with all the possible things he could and wanted to do to you at that moment that he found himself leaning in to just kiss you.
His tongue parted your lips and explored your whole mouth as his fingers traced the lace of your panties.
If this was heaven, then Javier was happy he died.
"Please get on the bed" he instructed with what resembled more of a beg.
You did as told, observing with amusement the lust in his pupils.
His eyes didn't leave you for even a second as he took his gun and badge out of his jeans and placed them on the nightstand and not even when he took, or better, threw his shirt off.
"you scared I might disappear?" you joked
"I'm scared I might wake up" he answered, finally stepping in front of you just to kneel before you.
His digits trailed the fabric on your leg until they reached the hem, and that's when his lips came to play.
he gently picked up your left leg and started leaving hot, desperate kisses starting from your ankle up until he reached your naked thigh.
By the time he'd done it to both your legs your body's temperature had risen a worrying amount.
His eyes found yours again and he could have come right there in his pants just by the sight of your reddened cheeks and caged lips.
"Open your legs for me, sweet girl"
You did as told without hesitation.
He slowly took your panties off, and let out an adoring sigh.
He grabbed both your legs and placed them on his shoulders, before bending down to kiss the inside of your thighs, sending goosebumps up your spine.
"god, the woman you are" he breathed, his eyes fixated on your core.
"Please Javi" you whimpered
And as always, the teasing was over the moment he heard that sweet voice of yours.
He dove in, taking your pussy into his mouth.
"oh god," you breathed, clutching his head to your body and falling back on the bed.
No high felt this good. If Javier had to choose a way to go, this would be it, his head between your thighs and you moaning beneath him.
His tongue spread your folds hungrily, tasting and licking up and down so that each inch of you had been worshipped, before starting to focus on your clit.
His tongue swirled around over your nub and your back arched off the bed, a high moan climbing up your throat.
"Fuck, baby" you cried, your eyes shut in bliss and your fingers gripping his locks.
The feeling of his mustache and the tip of his nose occasionally hitting your skin was only heightening your pleasure.
While one of his hands remained on your thigh, one traveled upwards until it could freely grope and feel your tits.
Your nipples were perked under the feeble fabric of your bra, and he groaned lowly as he gently toyed with one of them.
You could only let out a desperate moan.
His tongue kept lapping at you, focusing on your nub and occasionally exploring your heat or threatening your entrance until you were panting and squirming under him.
his hold on your leg tightened when he felt your stomach start to shake as your orgasm approached.
"Javi!" you could only cry, once his mouth finally sent you over the edge.
You gripped his hair for dear life as you breathed his name over and over.
He did not stop until you had fully come down your high, and even then, he hesitated before leaning away.
You locked eyes as you both caught your breath, a grin tugging at both your lips before he climbed on top of you and kissed you, your taste still lingering in his mouth.
His dick was fighting against his jeans for room to grow, and your hands roaming closer to where he needed you definitely didn't help.
he let out a low groan once you palmed the bulge in his pants, and you smiled softly.
"Fuck, sweetheart" he growled, kissing the skin beneath your ear
"What?" you asked playfully
"I need to fuck you"
"need?" you raised an eyebrow, stifling a grin
"yeah, need" he nodded, unwillingly climbing off the bed to unfasten his belt and take off his jeans in record time.
In the meantime, you took off your bra, making the conscious decision of leaving your stockings on.
By the look of it, he was pleased with the idea.
His cock was hard and already leaking some precum, and even if you'd seen him desperate before, today he seemed even more.
You were gonna talk to him later, now you had a more pressing matter at hand.
"come here" you invited him, shuffling up the bed and spreading your legs.
He immediately obeyed, coming down on top of you to nestle between your thighs, and melting into your mouth.
He kissed you deep and through, like he dreamed of doing all day and all last night (even if he didn't tell you that), and you whimpered weakly into his mouth, as your arms came up behind his neck.
"God I missed you" he breathed
"you saw me the day before yesterday javi"
"yeah, and that's what?" he asked, leaving another quick kiss on your lips "More than 24 hours without kissing this perfect mouth of yours?" he said "I call that torture"
You chuckled lightly "Careful there, that's what addiction sounds like"
"Yeah, well maybe I am addicted"
You smiled again "now, I don't think your colleagues at the DEA would like the sound of that" you joked.
"then I'll quit," he said
"You'll quit?" you teased
"Yeah" he kissed you "I'll quit and then we'll buy a farm in Texas and spend the rest of our lives like this"
You felt your heart speed up at that childish, unrealizable vision, and yet, you couldn't help but smile.
"I like the sound of that," you said, because it was the truth, because you did like all the impossible plans Javi'd made for your future over the course of all your meetings.
It started as a silly joke, but each time it grew to be something more, you could feel it in his tone, in the way he'd stroke your cheek as he told you about how many dogs you'd keep on the farm.
He was the one that started it, but after a while, you joined him. You contributed with your own hopes, your own dreams, and so, those hours spent together became much more than sex, you became much more than a prostitute and a DEA agent, you became dreamers, and for a few moments, that's all you stayed, as everything else disappeared.
"yeah? I do too, sweetheart" he breathed, kissing you once more before finally positioning himself at your entrance.
Your cries mixed with his groans as he slowly entered you.
One of his hands was on your cheek while the other one kept your legs on his waist so he could hit the angle he knew would make your eyes roll to the back of your head.
"fuck baby" he growled softly, starting his slow but oh-so-deep pace as you gripped his shoulders.
That's the thing about Javier, he was always sweet.. gentle. when you first met him you thought he was gonna be another overworked man looking for a way to relieve some stress, but he was everything but.
He cared, maybe a dangerous amount.
"oh my god" you moaned, wrapping your legs around his waist.
"I know baby, I know" he murmured, picking up his pace and sinking deeper inside of you.
He was mesmerized by your body underneath his, by your tits bouncing with his movements, by your lips between your teeth, by the way you shut your eyes once the feeling overwhelmed you.
He wanted to take a picture and keep it in his wallet, fuck, he wanted the sight to be tattooed inside his eyelids.
"god you're amazing" he whispered, dipping down to suck on your breasts as you moaned and whimpered.
"fuck, sweetheart" he breathed, coming back up to kiss your mouth.
Your moans filled the room, growing louder and louder until the creaks of the mattress couldn't be heard anymore.
"please" you begged in just a whisper "Please don't stop"
He pressed his forehead to yours, both of you near hyperventilating as he thrusted over and over again, lost in the feeling of you and everything you brought with you.
"I couldn't even if I wanted to baby" he groaned "You feel too good," he said.
"Oh my god!" you moaned, as pressure built in your belly and his cock stretched you so well "Right there Javi, right there" you whimpered "Please-"
"come for me baby" he urges "Give me all you've got"
And just like that, you did, your back and neck arched from the bed as you let out what could only be described as an animalistic moan.
Javier forced himself not to blink so as not to miss a second of the artwork occurring beneath him.
He was so distracted by your beauty in fact, that he didn't remember to pull out, and it was only after you opened your eyes that he realized.
"oh shit" he whispered, worry taking over his face.
You smiled, still blissful "Don't worry" you reassured him, reaching your hand to stroke his cheek.
You moved some sweaty hair out of his face, and he did the same, a joyful smile finding its way on both your faces.
"You're incredible baby" he kissed you much more gently now
"you're not so bad yourself agent" you teased, giving him another quick peck before he halfheartedly pulled out and collapsed beside you.
His hand reached on the nightstand for his cigarettes, and he lighted one as his other arm wrapped around you to keep you close.
You rested your head on his chest as he took a drag before he offered it to you.
You accepted, inhaling and exhaling slowly before returning the cigarette.
You raised your head to look at him better
"so what's going on?"
He hesitated before returning your look "Things are messed up right now" he answered vaguely
"aren't they always?"
"yeah" a cloud of smoke escaped his mouth again "but now ever more"
"mh" you hummed, contemplating "I'm sorry" you kissed his peck "I'm sure everything will be alright though, you're Javier Peña after all"
He chuckled drily at that " 'm not sure that's a good thing right now"
A small smirk tugged at your lips all of a sudden as a question came to you "If things are so messed up right now, you think it's a good idea to be here?"
"they can wait"
you snorted "Pablo Escobar can wait?"
"for you? " he said "The whole world can wait for you"
#javier peña#narcos#javier peña x reader#javier peña x fem!reader#javier pena narcos#javier peña x y/n#javier peña x you#javier peña x informant reader#javier peña smut#narcos x reader#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x female reader#javier peña x female reader#javier pena#javier pena smut#javier pena x reader#javier pena x sex worker!reader#javier pena x sex worker#javier peña x sex worker#javier peña x sex worker!reader#smut#joel miller#the last of us#tlou hbo#the last of us hbo
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𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐊
Pairing: FEDRA!Javier Peña x firefly!reader
Genre: slice of life, smut, romance, angst, enemies to reluctant friends to lovers, TLOU AU, minors dni
Summary: Javier, a former member of the Federal Disaster Response Agency in Kansas City, is haunted by the guilt and violence he indirectly caused by not taking action when he should have. After fleeing Kansas City in the aftermath of Kathleen's violent overthrow of FEDRA, you and Javier seek refuge in an abandoned train in the middle of a forest.
As you and Javier turn the train into a living space and learn to navigate the dangers of a post-apocalyptic world, you gradually overcome your differences and form an unlikely bond. But when your pasts catch up with you, you must confront the demons that haunt you and make a choice that could mean the difference between life and death. Will you choose to protect each other and find a way to build a new life together, or will the ghosts of your pasts tear you apart?
word count: 4.3k
chapter summary: new dynamics, new outlooks. the story comes to an end.
warnings: cock worship, oral (male receiving), ass play, anal sex, spit as lube, dirty talking
a/n: this is the last chapter of this series but there will be an epilogue coming very very soon. thank you to everyone who joined me on this journey and I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it xx
Railhead - The end of a railroad line where trains can be loaded and unloaded, often in a remote location.
You’re proud, to say the least. Looking back at the train, your chest swells with indescribable emotion. The outside might look rusty and dusty—something Javier was adamant about so no one would want to come take a closer look—but the inside was where your efforts truly shined. Through the windows, you catch a glimpse of the plants you potted in old cans you cut into two and one semi-intact clay pot. A fence surrounds the train, booby-trapped just in case someone lurks nearby.
Javier comes out and stands next to you, he’s chewing on a long-stemmed dandelion. His signature aviators nestled above his head.
“We fucking did it. An actual living place,” his shoulders raise slightly, the corner of his lips twitching into a smile. “I can’t believe we actually did it without killing each other.”
You roll your eyes and come to stand in front of him. His eyes drop to your lips, then smoothly travel back up to meet your gaze. You smile playfully as you quickly pluck the dandelion from his lips, closing the distance, you slant your lips together. As always, he’s hungry. He cups your waist and pulls you flush against his body, slipping his tongue between your wanting lips. You groan loudly, your stomach doing somersaults as he tilts his head and deepens the kiss. Every part of you is humming with delight.
But then Javier suddenly parts, and you’re left aching.
“Hey—”
“I got a surprise for you.”
You blink before answering, “A surprise?”
“Si,” he chirps quickly, brown eyes shining. He holds your hand and pulls you towards the entrance of the train. “Follow me, querida. I’m sure you’re going to appreciate it.”
“Hmmm we’ll see.” Javier sits you on the tattered couch and disappears into the makeshift bedroom—your shared bedroom. “How did you even manage to get me something?” you call out. “We literally go everywhere together.”
“I have my ways.” then he adds. “It’s handmade.”
Handmade?
He appears from the narrow threshold, he’s holding a small box, “Here,” he says, placing it on your lap. “Maybe you’ll complain less thanks to this.”
“Charming as always.”
You carefully lift the lid, a pair of intricately crafted insoles catches your eye. Javier watches you intently, his full attention making your heart stutter. The insoles, are fashioned from what seems to be a combination of salvaged leather and repurposed fabric.
“I—Insoles?” you gasp, tears prick the corner of your eyes. You lift your gaze and your brows furrow as you meet his. “I don’t remember mentioning I had shitty insoles.”
“You didn’t have to.”
The edges are neatly stitched with a weathered thread, showcasing the craftsmanship that went into it. You notice the tiny details, like irregular patterns and faded hues, hint at a past life.
Javier grins, leaning in as you inspect your gift. "I found an old leather jacket and some sturdy fabric in one of the abandoned buildings. Thought it might make your life a bit comfier. And hopefully—it’ll make my ears hurt less."
“Don’t ruin the moment, Javi.”
“I don’t want you crying. I can’t handle you crying.”
“Aw, big scary Fedra soldier afraid of some happy tears?”
“Didn’t say I was afraid,” his lips touch your forehead, you lean into the heat of them as he takes a seat next to you. “I just don’t enjoy being the person who put them there.”
“You do know what happy means right?”
He waves a hand, “Tears are tears, perla. I’d rather see you smile and laugh.”
Looking back down, you run your fingers over the textured surface. It’s soft, resilient. The insoles seem to mold to the contours of your hands, promising a snug fit when placed inside your old boots. The scent of worn leather and a hint of dust lingers.
"Try them on," Javier urges, his eyes gleaming with eagerness. He nudges you slightly with his shoulder.
“Alright alright. Just give me a second.”
You slip the handmade insoles into your shoes, a surprisingly pleasant sensation envelops your feet. You sigh pleasantly and your eyelids flutter.
“That good, huh?”
“Oh, shut up.”
Javier watches your reaction closely, "So, what do you think?"
"Handmade indeed," you muse, a soft smile breaking across your face. "You always find a way to make things special," quickly, you lean in, your kiss taking him by surprise. “Thank you, Javier.”
He holds you by the hip, hands gradually moving lower to your backside. A shudder runs up your spine, your breathing becoming short-paced.
“Say my name again.”
“Javier,” you repeat, a bit more breathily this time. He stands up, the sudden movement making your head spin. He’s not touching you anymore. Instead, he’s just staring at you, his eyes like charcoal.
“Again.”
“Javier.”
His hand finds its way to the back of your neck, he pushes you towards him, close enough that you feel the warmth of his breath on your lips. You inhale sharply.
“Where do you want me to fuck you?” he asks. “The couch or the bed?”
“B—Bed,” you stutter. When he clicks his tongue with disapproval, you say, “I want you to fuck me on the bed, Javier.”
“That’s my good little troublemaker. My sweet thorn.” Before releasing you, he keeps you still, his fingers digging into your neck. “Before I fuck you,” he groans. “I want you to suck my cock, baby. I want you to get it nice and wet, want you to fucking worship it. Understood?”
You nod in a daze. Javier smiles, a bit of softness showing in his irises. His hand dropping from your neck, he kneads the plump flesh of your ass. “Then I’m going to worship this gorgeous ass. Does that sound fair to you?”
You swallow thickly, not sure what to say when your head is swimming in deep arousal.
“Yes,” you whimper. “That sounds fair.”
The way to the ‘bedroom’ is a blur of quick kisses and rapid stripping; some part of you doesn’t want to remove your boots, you want to continue to appreciate the insoles he made for you, but sadly, you end up kicking them off.
“Lay down,” you say, taking back some of the control. While Javier pulls down his pants, you suck the skin above his collarbone, tracing the bone underneath with your tongue. A soft whimper reverberates in his throat, dragging your lips up, you kiss his bobbing Adam’s apple. “I haven’t even begun worshipping your cock and you’re already a mess?” You palm his erection, grinning at the way it twitches in your palm. “Are you going to come as soon as I wrap my lips around you, Javier?”
He grunts and grips your wrist, “Don’t start a war you can’t finish.”
You know the words are meant to be a lighthearted tease, but they affect you more than you anticipate. You look down at his scar, almost ashamed at the cruel past that ended up binding you two together.
He must’ve felt it because he lifts your chin, forcing your gaze back to him, “We’re not in a battle anymore,” he reminds you. “There are no wars. And even if there were any, I have no intention of joining when I’m desperately in love with you.”
Love.
He’s in love?
With you?
“I want to witness the beauty the world still has to offer. . . with you.”
Your eyes go wide, your pulse skyrocketing in your veins. Your chest heaves. Love. A feeling so foreign that you thought you’d never be on the receiving end. Love. An emotion so complex that sometimes it felt you were the only one capable of it. Love. The emotion Javier feels for you.
Love. The emotion you feel for Javier.
You don’t say it—mostly because you’ll get choked up if you do—but you do kiss him with every bit of emotion you feel towards him. You breathe him in. Inhale him. You feel his lashes on your skin as he closes his eyes, feel the thud of his heart against your own chest.
Love.
What an amazing thing it was.
And a cruel thing you were only able to find after the world ended.
“Get on the bed,” you say, softer this time. Javier complies, the bed creaking in protest at his weight. You strip down completely. Your underwear and bra left on the floor. You want to be bare. You want to be safe. And you are safe, with him you’ll always be.
“I love this pretty cock,” you mutter, kissing the side. The muscle in Javier’s jaw tenses, his teeth coming together. You lick up to the tip and wrap your lips around the head, swirling your tongue around the ridge. Before he can get comfortable, you drag your lips back down, following the vein that throbs violently under your soft flesh, you take one of his testicles into your mouth. You suck on it slowly and release it, blowing a bit of air over the spit-slicked skin.
“Fuck,” he growls, hips jerking. “Fuck fuck fuck—That’s it baby, that’s it. . . Shit—”
Javier’s head falls back, his dark locks a mess above the white-ish pillowcase. You dip your tongue between the crease of them and flattening your tongue, you lick the underside of his cock. His breath comes in short, fast pants. You take him into your mouth, sucking him halfway until the tip touches the back of your throat. You feel your nipples tightening, your pussy soaked from pleasuring him. Javier cradles the back of your head for dear life, thrusting into your mouth with shallow thrusts. You let him. You’d let him ruin you, you’d let him tear you apart and stick you together again.
A series of moans and groans drop from his lips. Saliva trickles down his length, going down his thighs. Moaning around him, you grip the meat of his legs and push yourself down. He sinks into your throat desperately, his breath hitching when your throat convulses around him.
“Fuck,” he breathes, pushing you off his cock. “I don’t want to come yet but your mouth is too damn tempting.” You look up to him with a grin, he reaches towards you, thumb pulling at your bottom lip. “Next time I’ll fuck this pretty mouth so well you won’t be smiling about it.”
“I’ll hold you up to that, you know.”
“Good.”
Javier pulls the pillow under you while he guides you to all fours. Suddenly you’re feeling too exposed with your ass in the air. You chew the inside of your cheek and look down at the sheets. He flattens his palm above your spine, his hand moving all the way down, he stands on his knees right behind you, his cock wet and heavy above the swell of your ass.
“Just say the word and we’ll stop.”
“No, I. . . I want it, I’m just nervous because I’ve never actually. . .” you trail off, your cheeks flaring at the thought of speaking openly—which is hilarious when you think about it because this man has literally seen the worst of you. “I’ll tell you if I need to stop. Promise.”
Javier seems satisfied by your answer and playfully slaps your ass. You imagine him smiling, stoked to have you in a way that no one else has. He parts your cheeks, you hear the sound of his mouth as a string of saliva drips right onto your hole, Javier hums, and with a thumb, he smears it over. Your breath hitches. He hasn’t even done much, yet you’re already dizzy with the vicious way your heart beats in your chest.
Javier spits again, a pleasurable shudder crawls up your spine. Your nipples tighten. Goosebumps rising across your skin. He slowly pushes in a finger, he stops shortly after, examining the way your back tenses at the pressure. With his other hand, he caresses your spine. It’s soothing and you relax into his touch.
“Wish we had lube,” he murmurs. You hear the rustle of sheets as he moves. “But hopefully this’ll be enough to loosen you up, querida.”
His lips are nothing short of sin. You groan at the touch of his tongue, the velvet muscle swirling around you. He groans at your taste, pulls you closer by gripping your waist. You go willingly. Gathering spit in his mouth, he pushes, your body jolts as he wiggles his tongue inside.
His hand moves down to your clit, rubbing slow circles over the swollen nub. You feel your arousal growing, your body responding to his touch. You moan and squirm, unable to control yourself. It’s too much but also not enough all at the same time. He kisses where he’s been fucking you with his tongue and presses the same finger inside. This time it slides in with ease but he stops half-knuckle deep.
Your body tenses when he swipes over your clit again.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, mouth moving over the plump flesh of your ass.
"Amazing," you gasp, your body tingling with pleasure.
He moves his hand away from your clit and you whimper at the loss of his touch. But before you can protest, you feel him pulling out. Slightly turning, you see him licking his fingers, getting them wet. His hair is a mess, his beard thicker now that time has passed. Your heart swells and your lashes flutter. A beat later, your eyes meet. Javier makes a show up sucking his fingers, smiling around them.
“Are you enjoying the show?” he asks, pressing both fingers against your hole.
Instead of words, a choked-out sound drops from your lips. Your head falls back, your body arching as he pushes them deep.
"Relax, mi amor," he says, his voice gentle and reassuring. You wince at the stretch, but his spit makes it easier, and soon his fingers are sliding in and out of you, stretching you open.
Javier leans over you, his body covering yours. You feel his hard length against your back, and you know that he's just as turned on as you are. His fingers begin to move faster, scissoring and curling inside of you. He moans with you, precome dripping down your back and onto the sheets. Your body begs for more and more and more—
"Please," you gasp, meeting the thrust of his fingers. "I need you inside me, Javier."
“How can I ever say no when you beg so sweetly,” he rasps, chest heaving. “Mi dulce perla.”
He pulls his fingers out of you and you feel a sudden emptiness. But it's quickly replaced as he lines himself up with you and slowly begins to push into you. You gasp as he stretches you wide, he stops mid-thrust, waiting for you to adjust. Slack-jawed, you feel sweat beading at your temple. Javier finds your clit again, playing with it until you’re a soaking mess over his fingers, your body squeezing him tight. A loud groan trembles within his chest and he rocks forward, his cock filling you completely.
“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he says, voice hoarse. “I could go on like this all day long—until the day I die.”
You want to quip back at him, maybe mention that there’s no way he can go that long, but you lack the ability to form sentences. An elongated groan slips past your lips instead and you swear he smiles, without even looking you can sense the mischievous smile curling at his pretty, plush lips.
Javier starts thrusting into you, slowly at first and then building up speed. His hands caress your body, over your back, and down your hips. You can hear the sound of his lower abdomen slapping against your ass, along with both your moans filling the air. His cock hits all the right spots inside of you, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. You grip the sheets, desperate for something to hold onto as he hammers into you, the wet sounds growing and growing with every move.
You feel a sudden intensity building within you, rising higher and higher with each thrust of Javier’s hips. He lets out a low growl, his grip on your hips tightening as he pounds into you harder. You can’t help but moan loudly You’re feeling overwhelmed but in the best way possible.
Javier leans down and whispers into your ear, “You look so fucking sexy like this, taking my cock in your ass. You enjoy it don’t you—my sweet filthy girl.”
His words, along with his cock pounding into your tight hole, send you over the edge and you come with a loud cry, your entire body trembling. Your clit throbs as your cunt squeezes around nothing, pulsing viciously as your orgasm is ripped away. You clench around him and Javier’s movements become erratic. Suddenly, he stills, his body tensing as he reaches his peak. You feel him release inside of you, filling you up as he continues to thrust into you, prolonging his orgasm. Your eyes roll and your lids flutter, your own release washing over you as you come undone with him. He stays buried inside, both of you panting and catching your breath, until he finally pulls out.
Javier collapses onto your back, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. You both lie there for a few moments, basking in the aftermath. He eventually pulls out of you and you move to lay on your side, feeling his spent trickling down the back of your thighs, you face each other.
He strokes your cheek gently, looking into your eyes with a tenderness that makes your heart flutter. “You were amazing, mi vida,” he says, still trying to catch his breath.
You smile back at him, “So were you,” you reply, running your fingers through his hair. “Though sadly, I don’t think we can do that again for a while. I’m going to be feeling it for days.”
Just as he opens his lips, a sudden chill settles over your sweat-slicked body and his eyes drop down to your naked body with worry. “Are you cold?”
“A bit,” you admit unwillingly. You slightly stir, attempting to reach for the blanket. “Winter is finally coming, huh?”
Javier leans in and kisses you softly, his lips moving against yours in a slow, loving dance. You feel a warmth spread through your body, then you feel it on the outside as he reaches down, grabbing the blanket for you.
“It is.”
“Is there a reason we’re outside in the middle of the night?” you grumble, hugging yourself, you follow Javier’s footsteps. “It’s fucking freezing.”
The crisp night clings to your skin, freezing everywhere it touches. You miss the heat of your shared bed, the heat of another body against yours. With narrowed eyes, you glare at the man who is not slowing his steps. Javier takes your hand into his own, forcing you to move faster. He’s been secretive ever since he woke you—and it was definitely not pleasurable to be waken up in the middle of the night, especially in this day and age.
“Javierrrrr,” you whine, throwing your head back. “It’s cold. . .”
“You’ll thank me, I promise.”
“Fine. I trust you,” you chew on your bottom lip and smile. “But mainly because you made me new insoles.”
He turns to you, eyes round and simply adorable, “Are they keeping you warm?”
“They are.”
The two of you continue your journey through the night, and as you walk, Javier's hand remains firmly clasped around yours. The crunch of leaves beneath your feet echoes in the quiet darkness, a lullaby that once again makes you wish you were in bed instead.
After what feels like an eternity, Javier leads you to a small clearing. Your eyes go wide when you notice the soft silver beams cascading onto the patch of ground underneath The air is still, and the world seems to hold its breath, the only sound being the faint rustle of leaves.
Your breath catches as you step into the open space, your hand slipping away from Javier’s. A field of flowers had bloomed in various shades, their slender stems standing proud. The delicate petals reflect the silvery light. They remind you of stars, their petals pointed instead of round like you’re accustomed to.
A gasp escapes your lips, and a radiant smile spreads across your face. Your head snaps to Javier, "What are these?" you ask.
Javier's gaze shifts from the flowers to you, and in that moment, the world fades away.
“I have no idea what they are,” he answers, finger moving over his bottom lip. “But they only bloom at night.”
Your heart swells, “They’re beautiful. Thank you”
He steps closer, his fingers gently tracing the curve of your cheek. "Don’t mention it,” he brushes your lips together, the warmth of his breath making your melt into the earth. “Besides, they’re pale compared to you.”
“No need to charm me further,” you grin. “You already have me.”
“Do I now?”
“You do.”
As you share a tender kiss, the first snowflake falls. Then another. The world quiets down, and as you pull away, you notice the first snowflakes gently falling around you. Breaking away you both look at each other, then up to the sky.
It's here – winter has finally arrived.
Surprisingly, despite the cold, you've never felt warmer. In that simple kiss and under the falling snow, there's a magic that makes everything feel just right.
The day was warm, the sun bright. Small petals flew further away from the green grass, colorful flowers moving left and right with the soft caress of the wind. The grass tickled your bare ankles. You felt lucky to have found some regular shoes. If not you would have to wear your boots that made your feet feel like it was in a sauna. The lovely weather felt like a joke. It wasn’t the reality you lived in, just a mirage of the life before—though even then, it wasn’t quite perfect was it?
Your grip tightened around the straps of your bag. If you listened close enough you could hear the clatter of all the guns you were meant to smuggle in. The FEDRA was cruel in Kansas City. It was like the boogeyman stories but real.
You took a deep breath, your eyes scanning your surroundings one last time. It was like a spitting image of a Van Gogh painting. The world was still alive. It wasn’t infected, it didn’t know about the monsters that lurked on the surface.
Turning around, you continued to walk uphill, your chest starting to ache from both the heat and the constant walking.
Then you saw him.
A FEDRA soldier.
Your eyes momentarily went wide. He wasn’t looking at you, He was fidgeting, constantly looking around as if he was waiting for someone. Worry made a home in your gut. You didn’t think you had the strength in you to fight anyone off today. You just wanted to help the people and get rid of the weight of the guns.
The vest he wore looked like it dug uncomfortably into his chest, his rifle slung over his back, and pistol snug on his hip. You wondered if he would use either one on you—
Your eyes locked on one another.
Your breath halts in your chest, your heart ramming angrily and fearfully against its boney cage.
He raised a sole eyebrow, eyes narrowing. He was assessing you, trying to see how much of a threat you were.
“Who are you?” he asked and pulled out a cigarette pack from his back pocket. “You’ll get hurt if you wander around much, hermosa.”
You swallowed, “I—I’m just walking by,” you paid careful attention to make your voice sound meek and frightened. You lifted both your hands in surrender. “Please don’t shoot.”
He lit his cigarette and made no move toward his weapons. You eyed him nervously. FEDRA was not to be trusted.
“That wasn’t my question.”
“I just want a place to stay for the night. I was hoping to take refuge here for the night and leave first thing in the morning.”
The soldier looked through his lashes and he shielded the tiny flame with his hand. When the cigarette finally came to life, he took a deep breath then looked up to the sky.
“I really want to trust you. You have a kind face,” he said, sounding tired. “But your bag is making me doubt you.”
You froze, “Please. You can trust me.”
“And that’s all everyone needs during the end of times isn’t it?” he asked, not really wanting an answer. “Someone they can trust.”
He lowered his gaze, looking back at you, he sighed. His gaze lingered on you for an uncomfortable long amount. Your feet were glued to the soil, heat blossoming all over your skin. He had a kind face too. In another life, you might’ve even fallen for eyes.
The soldier suddenly blinked as if hitten by electricity, something he saw bothered him and you worried he saw right through you. Saw that you were a firefly, that you were carrying a shit ton of weapons. But he didn’t say anything.
“Go.”
“Go?”
He looked away, “Go before I change my mind. I have someone I need to meet anyway.”
So he was waiting for someone. Briefly, you wonder but quickly shrug the thoughts away. You had a mission.
You mumbled a thanks as you walked past him, your arms brushing in the process. As you left, you tried not to think about the electricity that circulated you, about the brown eyes and the tired look in them—
You tried not to fall for the possibility of a happy ending. Tried not to look for him when the chaos ensued, when Kathleen took over.
You tried.
And you failed. Miserably.
#javier peña x reader#javier peña x you#javier peña x f!reader#javier peña x fem!reader#javier peña au#javier peña smut#javier peña fanfiction#tlou crossover#the last of us fanfic#narcos fanfic#narcos fanfiction
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐮𝐠 𝐈𝐧 𝐌𝐞 𝐈𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮 - Javier Peña
"you've got me in a...CHOKE. HOOOOLD. even if it huuurts meee, even if I can't sleep. show me the waaaaaaaaayyyyy" - Chokehold, Sleep Token. Mood for my Pedro Pascal era
Summary: It seems the only way to get Javier to talk about his feelings is by having the person he cares about having a near death experience. Not the most healthy way to confess your feelings for someone, but hey, it works.
Warnings: unrequited but not actually unrequited love, inaccurate descriptions of how the DEA operates, Javier needs a therapist, bad wingman Steve, character study ish? that's mostly in Javi's POV, gun wounds and violence, hurt/comfort, whump, kinda forced proximity, eventual fluff, sexual refences but no smut this time (shocker, right?)
word count | 7.7k🤙🏻
Javier’s team had found out where one of Escobar’s men was. This was huge. If he and his team could catch him, get him to flip on his boss; he could snag the man that week.
The whole building was hustling and running around, preparing to go after this guy as soon as possible, just as soon as they got word everybody was in position. Javier’s nerves threatened to overflow, just the thought of being one step closer to catching Pablo Escobar and taking down his cartel after evading justice again and again, his body was set ablaze and his fingers twitched with excitement.
There was just one problem.
As Javier was putting on his bulletproof vest, from across the office, you caught his eye. That wasn’t abnormal in the slightest, you had always unknowingly begged for the attention of Javier’s gaze ever since he met you years ago; but this time, seeing you put an unwanted pit in his stomach. To everyone else, you looked normal, getting ready for this upcoming battle like the rest of the people on this mission. But all Javier saw was you preparing to meet your demise.
Javier wasn’t normally so nervous about things like this. In this line of work, people get hurt, some even die, that’s just what happens unfortunately. But the thought of it possibly happening to you didn’t sit right with him at all. If it was his call to make, he’d make you stay here away from all the action. You wouldn’t be in a ten mile radius of a single cartel member. But of course, that wasn’t his call to make, all he had was his convincing charm and his history with you to get you to even consider sitting out. Before thinking about it any longer, Javier started taking the steps it took to make it to your desk, the one that was always just a couple feet away from his but somehow always felt too far.
From the reluctant expression on your face as you looked up at him, Javier could already tell this conversation isn’t going to go the way he wants it to, as most conversations with you; but it was too late to back out now. “Almost ready, Peña?” Peña, always fuckin’ Peña. You made a point never to call him anything other than his last name. Though, he couldn’t blame you, not after everything he’s done to you. But it still made a tiny dagger go through his heart every time you refused to call him Javi.
You clearing your throat awkwardly made Javier suddenly aware of how creepy he was being, just staring at you, lost in his own thoughts. He cleared his own throat to avoid any possible voice cracks or stutters before finally responding to your very simple question. “I am.”
You raised an eyebrow, a look of amusement gracing your features which Javier always found adorable and would’ve still thought that if it wasn’t for how goddamn humiliating it was to have that expression directed at his being an idiot. “That’s it? You walked over here to tell me you’re ready?” A ghost of a smirk played at your lips, your very kissable lips.
Fuck, Javi, be professional. “No.” He stuttered briefly. “No.”
“Just out with it, man, we don’t have all day.”
Javier sighed in annoyance, placing his hands on his hips and looking down at you with a frown. “Look…, we all know how dangerous this guy is-”
You scoffed, already shaking your head. “No, no, no-”
“So, I was thinking you’d be of more use here. Hold down the fort while we try to bring this guy in.” He tried to keep his heartbeat under control as you stood up from your sitting position on the top of your desk, standing at your full height, obviously trying to come off as a bit intimidating; but you weren’t, not in that way, at least. Javier was more afraid of what was about to come out of your mouth.
“Will you be staying here?” You asked, looking him straight in the eyes; he could practically see all the obscenities floating around in your head that desperately wanted to come out, but couldn’t as to be somewhat professional.
Javier sighed quietly. “No, obviously not.”
“Why not?” You shrugged nonchalantly. “If this guy is so dangerous, you should stay here too. With me. Right?”
Ignoring the butterflies swirling around in his stomach as with me kept repeating over and over in his head, he grit his teeth to mask his expression into subtle anger. “It’s different.”
You crossed your arms and leaned against your desk. “Okay, Peña, give me one good reason why I shouldn’t go on this mission.”
Peña, his thoughts screamed at him. You used to call him Javi. Because I can’t bear the thought of losing you… “Because you’d be a liability. You’d only get in the way, and we can’t afford that right now.”
“Remind me, who was one of the first women to ever get assigned this case?” You asked, trying not to sound smug as everyone in this office knew the answer to that question.
“You were…” He replied with a scowl, his words sounded pained like they were being ripped out of him.
“Exactly. So, there’s no way in hell you’re gonna keep me from trying to catch this motherfucker. Okay? I can take care of myself.” You shoved your pointer finger directly on his chest, pushing him back a tiny bit.
Javier tried to ignore Steve’s shit eating grin as he walked back over to his desk dejectedly. That fuckin’ asshole. “Shoot. I’m surprised you ain’t dead as a doornail, with the way she’s lookin’ at ya.” Steve started as soon as Javier sat back down in his creaky old chair, massaging his temples from the oncoming headache that was surely going to feel like he was being bludgeoned with a hammer. “What did you do this time, Peña?”
Javier scowled and rolled his eyes, pouring himself a drink. “I just told her, I think she’d be better off staying away from the front lines.”
Steve snorted obnoxiously. “And what? You think she’d stay here? God, Peña, you really ain’t yourself when you’re smitten.”
Javier resisted the urge to throw his glass of whiskey right at Steve’s hillbilly face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Dude, you wanna get in her pants do bad it makes you look stupid. And makes you act even stupider, no offense.”
“Offense taken. Asshole.” He growled. “And I’m not smitten. It’s just…this mission is dangerous.”
“She’s a big girl, Javi. She can take care of herself. I’m sure she told ya as much after chewing you out.” More like tearing me apart into itty bitty pieces until I was nothing but ground fuckin’ dust. “You know what you need, Javi?” Oh, this should be good. “A therapist. I’ve recently been seeing one and man, let me tell ya, there’s stuff I’ve learned about myself that I didn’t even know.” Javier laughed. Like, really laughed. “I’m serious, man. Might help you figure out those commitment issues.”
“I already have a therapist.”
Now it was Steve’s turn to laugh. “Oh, yeah? Who?” Steve’s amused grin quickly turned into an annoyed grimace as Javier held up his bottle of whiskey that read: Jack Daniels.
Nah, Javier didn’t need a goddamn therapist. He was just fine…
He was, in fact, not fine.
Javier couldn’t stop the nervous twitch in his hands as everyone filed out of the office as soon as one of their undercover officers finally gave the signal that the cartel member was in place, rushing to the trucks to get to the place in town as soon as possible. He gave one last glance over to you as you got into a different truck that was going to be part of the surrounding force to make sure the member couldn’t escape. Honestly, Javier would’ve felt better if you were on his team instead, but things just didn’t work out that way. You’d be fine…you were going to be fine.
The drive over felt like forever when in reality it was probably around a few minutes. Javier knew he never should’ve talked to you before this mission, conversations with you always put him on edge, for various reasons. But he also knew he’d curse himself later if he didn’t try to talk you out of it once. Now, he couldn’t stop thinking about all the possible outcomes of this attempted arrest. What would happen if they fail? What would happen if this cartel member had a machine gun on him? What would happen if, god forbid, you get shot and killed? Would Javi be able to live with himself?
God, I’m so fucking stupid.
Javier couldn’t escape the onslaught of memories that flashed through his mind, each one causing a heat to rise to his face and guilt chew at him from the inside out.
It was only several months ago that you confessed your attraction to him. The office was celebrating a recent successful mission and people were drinking. You had gotten drunk, Javier being a little buzzed. You both did teasing dances around each other ever since you met, but Javier never thought you’d want to take things further. But with a few shots loosening your tongue, you told Javi that you really liked him. You loved dancing, but your legs were threatening to give out in exhaustion if Javi kept spinning you around in his little tango. You were gorgeous, of course, but Javier didn’t really know what to say and you noticed that. For a drunk person, you were very astute.
It’s not that Javier wasn’t attracted to you, he was, very much so. He enjoyed your company, he loved the back and forth that seemed to come so naturally to the two of you, he could actually imagine dating you and maybe even more. But Javier didn’t date, not anymore. He fucked. He had one night stands. He didn’t have time for dating. He didn’t have commitment issues, he was just…okay, he was afraid. Javier wasn’t afraid of much. He was a DEA agent, he got shot at on a regular basis, putting his life on the line every day to keep drugs off the streets. And yet, somehow, you managed to be the one thing he’s scared of the most and he can’t even tell you why.
Your face when he turned you down would be forever etched into his mind. It wasn’t even noticeable, it was a split second of sadness crossing your features that he almost missed it. But he didn’t. Every smile you ever gave him, your flustered expression whenever he flirted with you a bit too hard, all burned away by that one subtle despondent look. It sobered you up pretty quickly. You said you didn’t take it to heart, that you understood and apologizing if you made things awkward. He was your carpool that night, so the ride home was…tense, to put it lightly. You lived in the same apartment building, hence the carpool, but you lived a floor up. Javier thought about walking you to your apartment, like he usually would do just to spend that extra time with you when he didn’t have to, but he just couldn’t. Little by little, that mask of nonchalant withered away as you got more tired, unable or just unwilling to keep up the façade. Javi couldn’t look at you anymore, not if he wanted his heart to stay intact. His friendship with you would never be the same after that night.
He fucked up. He really fucked up. But he thought it was the best response at the time. He couldn’t get into any type of relationship, much less with a coworker. How unprofessional is that? How stupid would he be, in this line of work, to potentially put a target on your back by being someone he cares about? But of course, the way you slowly distanced yourself from him after his rejection made the wall he built around his heart melt away like acid and he couldn’t stop himself from caring about you even if he tried. And try, he did. He kept telling himself it was for the best. Even when you stopped carpooling with him to work, he tried not to care. Every time he felt jealous when he noticed someone else flirting with you, he told himself coworkers don’t feel the urge to put thirteen bullets into another person’s skull just by smiling at you. Because that’s all you were and would ever be: a coworker.
A coworker.
A coworker.
But coworkers can care about each other’s well being and want what’s best for them though, right?
…fuck.
Javier was losing it. He was fuckin’ losing it, and at a time like this? When he was about to try to catch a highly dangerous criminal? At a time where he was being counted on? No. He couldn’t think about you now. He cleared his mind. All images of your face were being shot out of his brain by a M16 assault rifle, just in time for the trucks to arrive at their destination.
The cartel member tried his best to escape, shooting plenty of rounds at every officer and agent that came into view. But it was proven all for nothing, for him and the police. The motherfucker shot himself before they could arrest him. Of course. They could never catch a fuckin’ break, could they?
Everyone was in low spirits, some now spiritless. To think, being in this field for so long that Javier might get used to seeing the dead bodies. To a point, but he couldn’t help but frown when he saw the lifeless faces of people he knew, people he worked with. Hijo de puta, Javier wishes that cartel member was still alive so he could torture information out of him himself. He’d get over it, same as everyone else. But Javier found himself a secret weapon that always made him feel better after a mission went wrong, he’d just look at you, safe, and all stress would leave him in that moment to know that you made it out alive at least. It was so secret that Javi didn’t even know he did that, not until he tried searching for you after the dust cleared and everything settled down a little bit. Steve was with you, so you’d be easy to find. All he had to do was look for a bright blonde redneck sore thumb.
Javier’s frown deepened when he found Steve, only to not find you standing with him. The look on Steve’s face as he saw Javi coming didn’t bode well either. Where were you? “Javi.” Steve acknowledged in a soft voice…way too soft.
Javier looked around before fixing his gaze on Steve’s downcast expression. He was just upset about the mission failing, right? “Where is she?” He didn’t even have to say your name, anyone who knew Javier would immediately know who he was talking about. Steve sighed heavily, unable to meet his gaze. Javier burst like a dam, scowling and enraged, pulling Steve to him by his collar roughly. “Where is she?” He yelled, forcing the man to make eye contact with him.
“Javi, Javi, calm down.” Steve pleaded, placing his hands on his shoulders to try and soothe him. “She got shot, but she’s gonna be fine. Okay? She’s on her way to the hospital right now.”
Javier’s heart jumped into his throat, making his next words come out shaky and desperate. “Drive me there. Now.”
“But Javi, we gotta-”
“Now!” There was no arguing with Javier whenever he got this way, this angry, this violent. Steve would’ve had better luck fighting a bear.
Javier almost punched Steve when he kept giving him worried glances as he drove. Javi could not keep still. His hands were twitching, his leg was bouncing, he bit the dead skin on his fingertips, and when he started biting the not so dead flesh, he moved on to his lips, which wasn’t much better. It didn’t take but a minute until he tasted copper spreading across his tongue. Anything, he was doing anything to keep himself from screaming, resorting to pulling at his hair. No, there was no way you were leaving him like this. Steve said you’d be fine, but Javi didn’t even know where you got shot, he didn’t know how deep the bullet wounds were or if you were already being treated in the ambulance. He didn’t fucking know. God, please, he just wants to hear you call him Javi again. He doesn’t even care if you say it how you say his last name, full of annoyance and resentment, it doesn't matter anymore. Nothing matters until he sees you alive in a hospital bed.
Upon arriving at the hospital, Steve all but had to hold Javier back as he tried to check in, the impatient attitude and short fuse threatening to get them kicked out. Besides, it’s not like they could visit you now, you were still in surgery and it would take another hour or so before you’d get out. Javier could tell Steve just wanted to yell at him, say some stupid phrase like “hold your darn tootin’ horses” or some bullshit like that. Javier didn’t want to wait, he wanted to see you. He didn’t want to sit in some uncomfortable plastic chair for an hour not knowing if you were okay or not. So he stood, and he paced. He paced and paced until his legs started to wobble. He would stay here, he would stay all night if he had to. There was no way he was going home without seeing you. But in actuality, he wouldn’t have to wait that long.
It was only an hour and some change until the doctor finally came out into the waiting room, Javier and Steve shooting up from their chairs instantly. “She’s okay. The bullet didn’t go too deep into the abdomen and we managed to remove it without doing any more damage. We’ll keep her here for about a week and then we can send her home if there aren’t any more complications. She’s still under anesthesia but it’s wearing off now, so she should be awake soon. We’ll let you know when she’s ready to see you.”
“We can’t see her now?” Javier almost growled, causing Steve to place his hand on his shoulder before turning to the, quite frankly, startled doctor.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Such bullshit.” Javi grumbled under his breath, sitting down in the same seat, not even standing up long enough before his ass stopped tingling from being numb. His back hurt like a bitch, and his joints felt all stiff. God, he hated hospitals.
“Don’t worry, Javs, you’ll be able to see your girlfriend soon.”
“Shut the fuck up, Murphy. She’s not my fuckin’ girlfriend.”
Steve wasn’t phased by his hostility, only shrugging with a smirk. “But you want her to be.”
Javier groaned, running his hands over his face as his headache came back in full force. “Now, Murphy? You wanna have this conversation now?”
“If not now, when?”
“Never.”
“Exactly.” Javier rolled his eyes, wringing his hands together and avoiding eye contact with the other man. “You like her, man. It’s nothing to be ashamed about. You know, before I met Connie, I never thought I wanted a girlfriend either, much less a wife. I thought I’d be…tied down, I guess. I wanted the freedom to do whatever I wanted. But now…I can’t imagine life without her.”
I already can’t imagine a life without her… “She’s our coworker.”
“Hey, you can’t help who you fall in love with, man.” Javier cringed at the word love. He wasn’t in love with you. Yeah, keep telling yourself that, pendejo, his inner thoughts told him. “As far as I can tell, and I do have better vision than you, I think she feels the same way.” Oh, buddy, you have no idea. “I say go for it. We get this extremely short life once, a chance of it being even shorter in our line of work, you can’t take things for granted and you can’t risk missing out on something that can be beautiful.”
Javier looked over at Steve with a raised brow. “Getting wifed up has made you way more sentimental, man.”
Steve shrugged. “But you know it’s true.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
“You know what, this conversation is making me miss my wife. Let me know how this whole thing goes, okay? Seriously. I care about her too.” And with that, Steve took off, leaving Javier alone with his thoughts, along with the occasional cough or sneeze from other waiting room patients. But other than that, deadly silent. One of the things Javi hates most about hospitals. The silence. The people waiting to hear if their loved ones have survived or not, or waiting to see if they live or die themselves. It reeked of death and he thought: you don’t belong here. You’d never belong here. This place isn’t lively enough for your standards. You shined most working with other people, making others feel at ease with your attitude, caring and compassionate, one of the reasons you even got into this job in the first place. You cared about what happened to people, and you wanted the best for everyone. Maybe that’s why Javier was so drawn to you, ever the pessimist, your light was like a breath of fresh air. Being in the DEA hardened him as a person, seeing the worst in people almost on a daily basis, it can make a person jaded. But you never let the stuff you see change who you were; you still loved, you still cared, you still tried to find the fun in any situation and Javi admired you for that, not that he’d ever admit it.
“She’s ready to see you now.” The doctor’s voice knocked Javier out of his thoughts, his reminiscence being replaced by nervous eagerness.
It was only then, a few steps away from entering your hospital room, that Javier realized he was still clad in his bulletproof vest. He hadn’t gone home to wash off the light splatters of blood or his sweat coated body, and his hair was a tousled bird’s nest. He surely looked like a hot mess. But then he started to wonder when he ever got nervous about his appearance. Jesus, you really fucked him up. He couldn’t help but fix his hair a little before entering your room, hopefully managing to pat down some wild curls. But the smile on your face as he finally came into view told him he didn’t look as bad as he thought. That smile also pierced right through his hardened exterior, a breath of relief when he saw that you were okay.
“Hey, stranger.” You spoke lazily, clearly still a little loopy from the anesthesia.
Javier took a seat next to your bed, looking you over and frowning when he saw all the tubes attached to you. You could’ve lost her…
“Where’s Steve? The doctor said he was with you?”
She’s asking about Murphy when I’m right here? “Oh, he uh, went home, to make sure Connie knows he’s okay. He did want to see you though.”
“Yeah, I believe it. You should’ve seen the look on his face when that bullet got me. I’ve never seen him so scared shitless.” You chuckled. Again, always finding humor in a situation even when you literally got shot. It almost infuriated him, but the mental image of Steve freaking out did make him smirk a little.
“How are you feeling?”
You shrugged. “Tired. No, I'm exhausted. Who knew getting shot would make you wanna sleep for a week?”
“Are you hurting at all?”
“Just a little sore. They’ve got me on a shitload of painkillers right now, so I’m unlikely to feel anything at the moment. Embarrassment, however, I do feel.”
Javier furrowed his brows. “Why would you ever feel embarrassed? You got fuckin’ shot.”
“Exactly. I told you I could take care of myself and yet, here I am.” You huffed. “I never thought this would happen to me. I guess…I just got too comfortable.”
Before he could stop himself, Javier reached out to place his hand over yours, almost gasping when he felt how cold your skin was. “Hey, don’t be embarrassed, okay? You’re alive, that’s all that matters. Some of us don’t get so lucky. I’m relieved.”
He didn’t miss the subtle flustered expression on your face. “Oh…so, you’re not gonna say I told you so?” You smiled weakly.
Javier grinned. “Well, I can’t exactly say that when you’re laying in a hospital bed.”
“Eh, you could. You’d just be a massive asshole. But then again, you already are.” He knew it was just a joke, but it was true. He was an asshole, especially to you. Maybe it was the medication you were on, but he had no idea why you were being so friendly to him. If he were rejected by someone he likes, then that person proceeded to talk down to him when they were annoyed, he’d have little kind words to say. In fact, he was surprised you weren’t currently punching him in the face. You frowned, and Javier wanted to curse himself for giving his feelings away. “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “No, you have nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who’s-”
“Visiting hours are over.” A nurse interrupted, rather rudely.
You both frowned. Javier nodded to the nurse as he reluctantly let go of your hand, giving you a double take at the door, imprinting the image of you weakly waving goodbye with a small smile on your face to memory so he had something to hold onto before the next visit.
The week went by way too slow. Not even a week. You were recovering really well, so the doctors cleared you to go home sooner than expected. Javier found himself being anxious all the time, even at home after work was over. He drank a bit more than usual, until Steve came over one night and saw the state of his apartment and quickly intervened. He’d never admit this, but Javier was thankful for his partner. He was a good man, he supposed that’s why he made such a good DEA agent.
Javier had implicitly volunteered to be the one to look out for you when you were allowed back home, since you two lived in the same apartment building. Couldn’t really have been anyone else, and he wanted to. He wasn’t there for you when you got shot, but he sure as hell could be there when you recovered. Though, after a long conversation, you both decided it would be best that you stayed in his apartment until you could walk around on your own. The doctor had put you on a strict bedrest regime, to make sure you didn’t tear any stitching and reopen the wound. You lived alone, so staying with Javier just seemed like the most logical choice. Though, it put him in a near stupor.
Javier never cleaned so much in his life. He wanted everything to be perfect, nothing out of place and he’d be damned if there was even one speck of dust on any surface. It only increased his anxiety to the point he almost considered punching a hole into his wall. It’d be okay, he told himself, you were just staying until you could walk. That wouldn’t take that long. Yeah, he could do this. He could be professional while being in close proximity with you for more than the usual work hours. You’re fucked, man.
Steve helped drop you off at your apartments after picking you up from the hospital. Javier quickly put out the cigarette he was smoking as he heard the knock on the door, opening it to see you in a wheelchair with Steve behind you. “Someone order a damaged DEA agent?” He joked, only to get a slap on the arm from you. “Bad joke, sorry.” He coughed nervously, Javier stepping away so he could push the wheelchair inside. “Anyway, take real good care of her now.” He winked, earning a glare from Javier. “Alright, I’ll be going now.”
“Idiot…” Javier mumbled, earning a quiet giggle from you. Thankfully, Javier had a spare bedroom that he never used. He mostly used it as a storage room but cleaned it up a little and bought an extra mattress to use for the time being, while he insisted you stay in his own bedroom. “Sorry, it’s not much.” He spoke as he helped you to his bed.
“Don’t worry, it’s great.” You huffed as you laid yourself down, a small wince on your face. The doctor had been weaning you off the pain meds, so you weren’t the most comfortable. “Thanks again for letting me stay here until I get my bearings. I really appreciate it.”
Javier shook his head. “No problem. Just, uh, let me know if you need anything.”
“Thank you…Javi.” You spoke softly as he turned to exit the room.
He almost ran into the door as soon as you said that, his heart fluttering inside his ribcage. He closed his eyes briefly to just savor the sound of your voice when you finally said his first name, finally after so long. He knew it was just out of appreciation, but he could take the little victories. He stiffly nodded before closing the door on his way out, letting out a sharp exhale when he got to his living room. How was he going to survive you staying with him for a couple weeks when he gets flustered within just a couple minutes around you in general? He hated to admit, but Steve was right.
Javi was fuckin’ smitten.
With this newfound acceptance, Javier found himself just standing at the island in his kitchen doing nothing but blankly staring into space. You were here. You were safe. You were just in the other room. And yet, Javier was itching to go back and make sure you were doing alright, even though, logically, he knew you were probably just sleeping. He noticed the dark circles under your eyes and figured it was difficult trying to find any sort of peace inside a hospital. He knew he wouldn’t, but then again, he always had trouble sleeping. Even more so after you got shot.
For the first time in a while, the nightmares he was plagued with actually got to him. It wasn’t like all the other times he was shot or stabbed, betraying his own department, or Pablo always managing to escape when he was just within reach (although, that was more reality bleeding into his dreams). He almost always saw the dead bodies of the people he’s killed, especially the innocent ones. But then he started to see you.
It was always the same. You were calling out for Javier, begging for help. He ran to you, but it was like he was trying to run through mud or quicksand. He tried so hard to get to you before you were shot, but he was always too late. As soon as he reached you, you were already dying in his arms. Over and over again. To think those dreams would’ve stopped once you were home from the hospital, but nope. He went to sleep that night waking up in a similar cold sweat and racing heart. He almost couldn’t bear to look at you, guilt eating away at him even though it wasn’t his fault. He absolutely hated the fact he still had to go into work. This mission was put on hold for no one, not even you.
He was always anxious at work, to the point everyone noticed. He still did his job, but his eyes were vacant and it seemed anything he did was just instinct. He just kept thinking what if you needed him and he wasn’t there to help you? It didn’t bother Javier that everything figured out his affection for you, it was bound to happen sooner or later. He just hoped it didn’t get back to you before he could tell you himself.
But after he came home, he went back to his old behaviors. It’s true what people say: habits die hard. He did attempt to act more warm and accommodating, for both your sakes. But he made sure to never cross that line of professionalism. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or be forced into a situation when you were practically still dependent on him to move around. He didn’t want to cross any unspoken boundary. No, he’d keep his feelings to himself a bit longer. After you can walk on your own, or maybe even after you come back to work…or maybe when the mission is over and Pablo is dead or behind bars.
But after another gruesome nightmare, Javier got into the habit of peeking into your (his) bedroom. Just to make sure you were still there. Even when his nightmares mellowed out, he still did it. He even started to sit by your bed and just watch you sleep peacefully. God, he felt like such a creep. And what was it he said about boundaries?
Javier thought he’d just stay quiet, pretend like he never memorized every part of your face as you slept. Like how he noticed your nose twitched like a bunny sometimes, or how your lips pulled into a tiny and almost unnoticeable smile. But of course, he couldn’t do that forever. You started to be able to move around on your own, albeit extremely carefully. But still, that just meant you could go back to your own apartment soon…
Javier had a really bad dream that night after seeing you take baby steps into the living room, a giant smile on your face as you finally were able to do things yourself. And of course, it was the same exact dream. He went to your bedroom right after, anxious to see your peacefully sleeping form that would instantly calm him, only to find you whimpering and slightly stirring in your sleep. Ah, so he wasn’t the only one plagued by nightmares.
He thought about leaving you alone, letting you wake up on your own, but when he heard you whispering mumbled “nos” and “stops” with tears trailing down your cheeks, he couldn’t just let you suffer.
After a brief moment of hesitation, Javier slowly sat down next to you, brushing a hand over your cheek delicately, the action only slightly stirring you. “Hey, sweetheart.” Fuck, the name just came out naturally. He’s so glad that it didn’t wake you. He called your name, gently shaking your shoulder until you shot up with wide eyes, winding back your fist to punch him before he caught it. “Hey, hey, it’s me. It’s me.”
You slowly relaxed, bringing your hands down with an exhale. “Javi…” You whispered his name like a prayer, like you almost couldn’t believe he was actually there with you.
“Must’ve been some nightmare.” Javier guessed, and you winced.
“Was…was I loud?”
“You were crying in your sleep…” He didn’t really answer your question, it was true, but Javier never would’ve heard you if he wasn’t creeping around your room in the first place.
“Oh god, I’m sorry. I usually don’t get nightmares like this.”
“What were you dreaming about?” Javier could’ve probably guessed, and from the expression on your face when you looked at him, he was right.
“I haven’t had nightmares about it before. Not even the nights right after. I don’t know.” You shrugged. “I guess…my theory, now that I can walk around without tearing myself apart, I guess that means I can go back to my apartment. And I'm glad I’m better. It’s just, you’ve been so kind and made me feel safe here, and the thought of having to live all alone again, even if I know you’re just downstairs…” You shook your head, curling in on yourself in embarrassment.
“Then…you can stay here a bit longer.” That felt like a confession, to Javier anyway. And he almost regretted saying it until…
“Oh, no, I wouldn’t do that to you. I know you’ve been counting down the days until I could handle walking myself again.”
Javi furrowed his brows, his heart dropping to his stomach. “What? I haven’t-”
“I’ve made things awkward, Javi. I know that. I know I haven’t been handling that whole rejection thing very well, but I’m trying, okay? I really am trying.” You sighed. “I never should’ve told you then, but I figured, you can get over a person a lot quicker if you just confessed early on. I’m sorry but, it hasn’t been working much. That’s not your fault, of course, it’s my problem. Living with you these past couple weeks have not made it any easier though.” You chuckled bitterly, wiping away a few shed tears as soon as they fell over your cheeks, making Javier’s heart clench painfully. “God, I’m such an idiot.” You whispered to yourself.
Javier exhaled shakily, turning away from you, looking down at the floor. “You remember back at the hospital, you called me an asshole?”
“It was a joke, and I apologized, Peña.”
Javier winced at the sound of his last name. No. No, no, no, he was not going to go through this. Not again. Just swallow your pride for once, man. “I didn’t get to finish what I was gonna say back then, 'cause that bitch nurse told me I had to leave.” He growled.
You chuckled weakly. “And what were you going to say?”
Now or never, right?
“I was gonna say you’re right. I am. An asshole. I’m the one who should be apologizing to you.”
You made a confused noise. “What’re you talking about?”
Goddamn it. “I’ve been an asshole to you since that night…”
You sighed. “You don’t have to explain yourself, Peña. I get it.”
“Please, just let me talk.” He begged, and Javier never begged. The pleading look in his eyes finally got you to shut your mouth. His heart was racing. He thought about taking a deep breath but he was just afraid it would turn into hyperventilating, so not helpful. “Sorry, I’m no good at this. Talking. Damn it…” He whispered. “Fuck it, I like you, alright?” He spat, sounding more angry than he meant.
“W-What?” You stuttered, suddenly sounding much more awake and sitting up against your pillows.
“You heard me.”
“I did, I just…” You shook your head. “I don’t understand. Are you saying this to…mess with me or something?”
“No. No, I’m not. I mean, I’m-” Javier groaned in frustration. He wasn’t used to this, he never really did this, talk about his emotions. He didn’t know it would be this hard. Man, maybe he did need a therapist. He flinched when you placed your hand on his shoulder, but you didn’t pull away.
“Hey, it’s okay, Javi.” You spoke softly when you noticed how on edge he was. “Calm down. Just take a deep breath.” He did as he was told, for once. Taking deep breaths while focusing on the heat radiating from you, using it to ground himself before he even tried talking again.
“When Steve told me you were shot…” He stuttered shakily, his voice betraying him. “I feared the worst. I thought…I thought there was a chance I’d never see you again.”
You frowned, your bottom lip trembling. “Oh, Javi, come here.” You pulled him to you, allowing his head to rest on your shoulder, gently running your hand through his hair while your other hand guided his hand to rest over the pulse point on your neck. “I’m safe. I’m alive. See? I’m not gonna be so reckless again, I promise.”
Javier closed his eyes, snuggling further onto your neck, breathing in your calming scent, spurring him to keep talking. “I thought that I didn’t want to be with anyone. I convinced myself that I don’t need anyone but me…then I got to know you and I started to realize, I’d rather give up this case than see you get hurt. That night you told me how you felt, I thought I was sparing you. But I was just afraid, a coward. The truth is…I fuckin’ need you.” From where his hand was laying on your neck, Javi could feel your pulse quicken. He called out your name in concern, more of hesitance. He finally lifted his head to look at you, immediately noticing the tears in your eyes but a bashful smile on your face.
Letting go of his restraint and not worrying about the consequences for once, Javier surged forward, capturing your lips with his. The little gasp that came from you was probably one of the cutest sounds he’s ever heard, besides your laugh. Your lips were so soft, moving against his languidly. He smiled into the kiss as he felt you rake your hands through his hair, bringing his body to yours as close as humanly possible. Javier wasn’t the best with words, but this he knew how to do. He tried to pour every single emotion he had for you into this kiss: adoration, care, frenzied lust, and maybe even love. The only reason he finally pulled away is because he heard you wince.
Oh, he’d pressed against you too hard and put some pressure on your stitching. Damn it, of course, your first kiss with her and you have to fuck it up somehow.
“I’m so sorry.” He spoke, panicked, wildly looking over your expression to make sure you weren’t in any more pain.
You shook your head with a grin, a mildly dazed gleam in your eyes. “You’re okay. You’re more than okay.”
“I got…a little carried away.” He blushed, having to forcefully put a little bit of distance between you. “God, I’ve thought about doing that for so long.” He admitted.
You smirked, trying to cover up your nervousness. “Did it live up to your expectations?”
More than you could ever know.
“I probably should’ve asked this before I kissed you, but…do you wanna go out with me sometime?” He didn’t know why he sounded so nervous, like you’d ever say no, but he didn’t know that. His body untensed as you gave him the most bright smile he’d ever seen from you.
“Of course, Javi.” Javi, Javi, Javi. The beautiful sound repeated in his mind.
“Say my name again, please.” You leaned forward to kiss him again, repeating it after you broke apart. He never thought his name could sound more alluring than when you said it. God, he wanted to absolutely ravish you, but he’d never risk hurting you. He was a patient man, he could wait, however long you needed. He was already planning it in his mind. He wasn’t the most romantic, but rose petals did come into mind, making him chuckle to himself. “I guess I’ll…let you get back to sleep now.”
Javier moved to stand from your bed, but you stopped him by grabbing onto his wrist. “Would it be too much if I asked you to stay?” Your best puppy dog eyes were on full display, making his heart swell. He could never say no to that face.
“Mi tesoro…” Javi whispered as you both settled in for the rest of the night, him laying on his back while you leaned your head against his chest, a protective arm wrapped around you. Yeah, he could get used to this, especially with you. The both of you fell fast asleep pretty quickly. And what d’ya know? He didn’t have another nightmare after that.
You decided to stay at his apartment for a little while longer. Well, it was more of an insistence from Javier. He was almost always on you like a leech, but he never heard you complain. From the constant stream of giggles and smiles you threw his way, Javi was pretty sure you enjoyed his company. Now that the tension finally broke, it was back to how it used to be between you, only more intensified. That damned gunshot wound was the only wall between you, but that wall wound was broken soon enough. Of course, when that happened, you also had to get back to work, which you were missing greatly. You wanted to catch Escobar just as much as everyone else, so you were ecstatic to get back on the case.
Javier tried his best not to helicopter you around, he knew if someone was doing that to him he’d want to claw their eyes out. He gave you your space, but that anxiety came back in full force whenever they’d try to make an arrest. From then on, you were always right by Javier’s side whenever the guns had to come out. Maybe he was overprotective, but he didn’t care; he needed you safe.
It wasn’t really a shock to anyone that you and Javier got together. Some even made bets, which infuriated him. Steve was the worst about it, teasing Javi whenever he got the chance. At least no one teased you, not that anyone would be stupid enough to try.
As the team had gotten word about where one of Pablo’s men were hiding out, the station started to shift into that similar tension, much too similar to that day you were shot. Javier felt like he was going to have a panic attack. But at this point, you had been around each other so constantly that you developed a sort of sixth sense to whatever he was feeling. You didn’t hesitate to grab his hand, bringing it up so his palm could cup your cheek. “Hey, we’re gonna be fine.” Javier forced himself to nod. “You’ve got my back?”
He cracked a smile. “Of course I do, cariño.”
Javier leaned down to kiss you passionately, taking you by surprise. PDA in the workplace wasn’t really strictly forbidden, but it was common courtesy not to lock lips with your partner. But Javi didn’t care, he needed you when he needed you.
No one was going to take that away from him. No one was going to take you away from him. Never again.
like i said...chokehold. he has too much power. someone save me.
#narcos#javier peña#javier peña imagine#javier peña x f!reader#javier peña x reader#javier peña x fem!reader#javier peña fanfiction
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PLEASE I'm requesting any Pedro boy taking care of sick reader and being all cute I just. I'm so sick rn please I need some new delusionals in my mind
a/n: please gws sending u the best hug and soup ever i hope you feel better (and have a javi to take care of u). did my best considering i havent written in a while, lmk what u think
feeling better
javier peña x reader
warnings: fluff, sickness | 0.36k | masterlist
“cariño?”
javier’s voice rung out in your shared apartment, a tremor of anxiety creeping into his tone at the sight of the scattered blankets, clothes and tissues gracing your living room floor. he shut the door softly, footsteps silent as he inched closer to the bedroom at the sound of your sniffle. gently pushing the door open, he stuck his head inside and found you curled up on the bed, balled up in what looked like-was it four-multiple blankets, shivering with a near-empty box of tissues on the bedside.
“oh, honey.” walking up to you, he caught sight of your half-closed swollen eyes, your nose and cheeks tinged red as you sneezed again. bringing a hand to your forehead, he shushed your whine when his fingers pulled away.
you cracked an eye open, hissing against the sunlight to watch his furrowed brows and eyes wide with worry. making a valiant attempt to say “go away, javi ‘m sick, it might spread,” you groaned and half-babbled incoherently, trying to roll yourself away from him, just getting yourself tangled in the blankets in the process. he huffed at the sight before gently gripping your ankle to get it out of the mess you’d made, planting a kiss on your forehead before bending to pick up the used tissues littering the floor under the opposite wall.
your eyes have fluttered shut by the time he turns back to you, and the fact that you’d insisted you were alright just this morning paired with the stubborn pout of your lips - even in sleep - makes him smile, before shaking his head and getting to work. time to bust out his mother’s fail-safe chicken soup recipe.
three days later, when the shine returns to your eyes and your fever finally flushes out, you make a joke about how much of a mother hen he’d become when you were sick - hovering, panicking, setting alarms for your medicine and refusing to leave your bedside at any given time.
which is why you aren’t too surprised when a week later, javi’s the one in bed.
at least you’re stocked up on medicine. and chicken soup.
hello loves, thank you for reading mwah. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3.
taglist: @imherefordeanandbones, @theywhowriteandknowthings, @josephquinnswhore, @millerscoffee, @nostalxgic, @sscorpiiio, @pedrosaidsheispunk, @its-nebuleuse, @sofiparallel, @mandoisapunk, @bastardmandennis, @pawnshopb1ues, @amanitacowboy, @party-hearses, @planet-marz1, @chiogarza, @jenispunk,
dividers by @saradika
HUGE THANKS TO @bastardmandennis for looking over this ily sm
#javier peña#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena fic#javier peña imagine#javier pena narcos#javi peña x reader#javier pena fluff#javier pena imagines#javier pena x reader#javier pena x you#javier peña fluff#javier peña x fem!reader#javier peña x female reader#javier peña x reader#javier peña x you#narcos imagine#narcos fanfiction#javier peña narcos#javi peña#pedrohub#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you
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summary: slowly— so slowly it’s undetectable, then all at once.
pairing: fem!reader x javier peña
contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, angst/fluff/eventual smut, best friends to lovers, food and alcohol mentions, grief/loss of a parent, brief mentions of the drug war, ptsd, perceived unrequited love
word count: 2.3k
writing masterlist | requests are open
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4*
#javier peña x reader#javier peña x fem!reader#fem!reader x javier peña#javier pena x you#javier peña fic#javier peña fanfiction#narcos fanfiction#arson writes narcos#not sfw
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Idk if your taking requests rn especially for Narcos but how about Dulzura reconnecting with her old roommate Sarah and she asked Dulzura if she’s still with Javi and she tells her about how they have five kids now.
AN | No, but just imagine the surprise! Can be read as a stand alone or part of the ‘verse! ❤️
Pairing | Javier x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 2.7k
Masterlist | Main, Javier, A Good Man ‘Verse
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
"Hi honey," sometimes the sight that greeted you when you got home was still enough to leave you floored. Your older kids were running around, the younger two were coloring and Javi was on the couch, holding the baby in his arms as he tried to get her to sleep. You stopped for a moment, loathe to kill the moment.
"Mama!" Diego stopped you first and ran over to you as best as he could, wrapping his arms around your legs, "you're home!"
"I'm home," you beamed at him, ruffling his dark hair affectionately as Lucia waved happily before going to join Santi and Thea. The two of them had been too wrapped up to notice that anything had changed, "hiya Javi. Doing okay, cielito?"
"Tired," but he nodded as he slowly stood up, trying his best not to wake the barely sleeping baby. She was finally out and he let out a sigh of relief, "this one has been fussy all day."
"She's your daughter after all," you leaned in and gently pressed a kiss to his cheek, trying not to wake her, “hello, my love. I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you,” the relief was clear on his face. He’d been through a lot and could handle almost anything, but two days alone with five kids? That was like some sort of hellish crash course, “part of me was worried that you wouldn’t come back at all.”
“The thought did cross my mind,” you teased, “but I happen to be fairly attached to you. And our children of course.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he snorted in amusement as you playfully scoffed at him. He grinned before playfully swatted at your bum, causing you to jump slightly, “now we’re even!”
“Javier-” but before you could reprimand him, the baby started to wake up and make a few sounds of discontent. You held out your arms and motioned for him to hand her to you, which he gently did, “come here, Isabella. I think you’ve tortured your papa enough for today.”
“I wouldn’t say torture-”
“Javi, it’s okay to admit that it’s rough and not always fun,” you insisted, “it doesn’t mean we don’t love them. They’re just…a lot.”
“A lot,” he agreed as he followed you into the kitchen, “whoever decided that five kids was a good idea?”
“The same person that decided to make us very fertile,” you grinned, sitting on the bar stool as Javier went to start dinner. The other kids were still occupied and it seemed like your youngest really had just wanted you, “oh! Guess what - exciting news!”
“Oh my god,” he shut the fridge and turned around dramatically, “don’t say you’re pregnant again.”
“No,” you stated firmly before dissolving into giggles, “no. Definitely not.”
“Thank god,” but he was laughing, and so were you, “I think that might literally kill me. I’m an old man, Dulzura.”
“Whatever Javier,” you shook your head fondly as Isabella babbled away happily as though she was part of the conversation, “what I was going to say was that I ran into Sarah over the weekend!”
“Your old roommate?”
“Yes! I haven’t seen her…” you mused for a moment, “I think since we were in college. So like you know about twelve years. It was so nice to run into her…we’re going to get lunch tomorrow.”
“That’s great,” he leaned over and touched your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek, “I’m glad you got the chance to see her again.”
“Me too,” you grinned and before clearing your throat, “Javier? You know how very much I love you, right?”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing! I just want to make sure you know you’re the love of my life,” your voice was sweet as honey and your husband just raised his eyebrow. Yeah, he knew you better than that, “that you’re the only thing in life I want.”
“Dulzura…”
“Fine! What I said holds true though,” you offered him the best puppy dog eyes you could muster up, “could you, pretty please, watch the kiddos tomorrow so I can go? I can bring Bella so you can focus on work…or I can reschedule. I should have asked first, I don’t want to force this on you.”
“Relax,” he leaned over and kissed you softly, “I want you to go and have fun, okay? You don’t have to ask, I don’t mind at all, they’re my kids too. Okay?”
“Okay,” your lips pulled into a small smile as you sighed softly, “thank you, Javi. You always know what to say. I love you.”
“I love you, Dulzura.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
It felt so strange to be out and only have one child in tow. Granted, it was your youngest and she still needed the most attention. But still…it was surprisingly tranquil - not that you didn’t love the chaos of your small brood.
You were running slightly late, despite your best efforts, and were left breathless by the time you were at the restaurant. You were held to the back patio area and found that Sarah was already waiting for you.
“Hi! I’m so sorry I’m late,” you offered her a sheepish smile as you set the carrier on one of the chairs; Isabella was already out for a nap. Sarah shook her head and stood up to give you a hug, “it’s so good to see you again. It’s really been way too long.”
“Seriously,” she agreed before peeking at the sleeping baby, “and who is this?”
“This is my daughter, Isabella,” you grinned as you gently stroked her rosy, chubby little cheek, “I think she’d be out already but she’s been a little fussy when it comes to sleeping lately so I’m sure she’s tired.”
“She’s adorable,” and yeah. You agreed - the two of you had made some pretty cute kids, “it’s hard to think that she could be anything but an angel.”
“Ahh,” you sat down and laughed softly, “she’s got you fooled already. She’s good at that.”
“Yeah, but how could you ever be mad at a face like that?” you sighed heavily and gave her a sheepish little shrug, "ahh, I'm guessing you don't!"
"We do not," you confirmed, "do you have any little ones yet?"
"Ahh no," she leaned back in her chair and relaxed, "not sure if I even want to. And I'm not with anyone. Dating…sucks. I'm just happy doing my own thing and whatever ends up happening will be just fine. Still - I can't believe you have a kid!"
"Oh," you were about to explain before the waiter came to take your order, and had a moment of reprieve. You knew that your life was a lot, but you still loved it, "she's my youngest actually. I, ugh, I have five kids."
She almost choked on her drink as your cheeks warmed up, "five?! You have five small humans?"
"I have five small humans," you grinned, "a girl, a boy, twins - a girl and a boy, and now this little lady. Lucia, Diego, Thea, Santi, and Bella."
"Holy shit," she was incredulous, "three girls and two boys! Wait - you have to have another now - even it up, ya know?"
"You're the worst," you laughed, "its okay, Javi makes it three boys, he's basically a big kid."
"Javi," she looked at you with wide eyes, "Javi. As in hot professor Peña!? You’re still together?"
"That Javi," you nodded happily, "we're married. We actually had our tenth wedding anniversary a few months ago."
"Oh my god," she reached over and squeezed your hand, "that's so romantic. I always wondered if the two of you stayed together, but this is…wow. Ten years and five kids, and you're still in love? It's disgusting."
"It's the worst," the two of you shared a small laugh, "but yeah, it's just been. It's been a lot, you know? But I wouldn't change a thing."
"It's the stuff like that that makes me believe in things like happily ever after," a wistful sigh escaped her lips. You agreed.
"Enough about me," you waved your hand, "tell me everything - it's been a long time!"
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
It was later than you had intended by the time you'd gotten home, and despite the fun afternoon, you were glad to be back with your family.
Javier came out to greet you as soon as he heard your car. He was dressed down but still handsome as ever; as soon as you opened the car door he was at your side and pulling you into his arms.
"Javier-"
"Dulzura," he took your face in his hands and pressed a soft, gentle kiss to your lips. You practically melted into his touch, still growing shy and trying to hide your face in his chest, "silly girl. How was your afternoon?"
"It was good," you reached up and brushed a few of his rogue curls out of his face, "would have been even better with you there."
"I always feel the same," he brushed his knuckles across your cheek, "how was Bella?"
"A dream," you peeked into the backseat and found her fast asleep in the car seat, "little miss was on her best behavior. How were the others?"
"Good," he promised and you relaxed ever so slightly. It wasn't that you didn't trust Javi…the kids were just a lot, "took them and the dogs to the park and they were good so they got ice cream on the way home."
"Aww, that's wonderful," you kissed his cheek, "so either they have a ton of energy or they've crashed…"
"Nap time all around," he winked, "let's get this one inside and then take advantage of the quiet."
"You read my mind," you gave him a high five as he gingerly took the baby out of the car seat.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You were currently sitting on the counter, helping Javi with dinner. Not so much helping as sipping on some wine and keeping him company. He stopped what he was doing every once in a while and gave a kiss, just like he always did. Even after all these years it still made your heart so happy.
“Sarah said something funny today,” you smiled at him over the top of your wine glass and saw him stop chopping for a moment, “after I told her we’re married and have a bunch of kids.”
“Oh?” he knew you were up to something from the little smirk on your face, “dime, trouble.”
“She said we gotta have another kid and make sure it’s a boy,” you tried to keep your face as neutral as possible as Javier turned to look at you with a look of shock and badly disguised panic on his face, “you know, since we have the three girls and two boys.”
“Dulzura…”
“Relax,” you grinned at him softly, “I am not pregnant and I told her that I’ve got you. You’re like a big kid.”
He let out a slow exhale before pretending to throw you a mock glare, “excuse me - last time I checked I am the most mature out of all of us.”
“Whatever you say, cielito,” you slid off the counter and stood behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist as your rested your cheek on his shoulder, “I love you regardless.”
“Hmm,” he hummed in content as he gave your hand a squeeze, “I love you.”
“I invited Sarah over for dinner next weekend,” you untangled yourself away from him and gently nudged him to the side with your hip, taking over the chopping duties, “it’s supposed to be nice weather. I was thinking we could have a barbecue. Maybe invite Steve and Connie and some of our other friends. It’s been a while since we’ve had a chance to get together with everyone.”
“That sounds great,” he agreed, “I also had an idea too.”
“Look at us go,” you high-fived each other, “what’s your idea, Javi?”
“I was thinking, now that the kids are a little older, it might be nice to go on a little trip,” you stopped what you were doing and you turned to him, “it doesn’t have to be anything huge. We could just kind of try it out as well. Maybe we could go camping for the weekend or something.”
“Oh Javi,” if your hands weren’t currently covered in different juices you would have grabbed him then and there, “that’s a lovely idea. Crazy, but lovely. Are you sure?”
“We’re going to have to take them all out together at some point, so we might as well get in some practice,” he explained, “and I do happen to love all of them and like spending time with them…so.”
“So…” the smile on your face was enough to let Javi know that it was a worthwhile idea. But your face quickly fell and turned into a frown, “wait - Javier. You don’t like camping.”
“We’ve gone camping before-”
“I forced you,” a little pout form on your lips and Javi couldn’t stop himself from kissing it away. When he pulled back you shook your head, “you didn’t want to go at first.”
“I ended up having a lot of fun,” he promised, “anything with you, or our kids, is worthwhile.”
“Javi…”
“Dulzura,” he put his hands on your shoulders and gave them a reassuring squeeze, “I want to do this. I wouldn’t suggest it if I really didn’t want to.”
“Okay,” you nodded softly as pressed kisses all over your face.
“If you don’t want to go camping, we could also try something else,” he reassured you, “maybe not Disney World just yet, but we’ll work our way up there, yeah?”
“Yeah-”
“Can we go to the zoo?” Santi was holding onto his blanket as he padded into the kitchen, wiping the sleep from his eyes, “I wanna see the animals.”
“Come here, mijo,” Javi crouched down and held out his arms, wrapping the boy up in a warm hug before settling him on his hip, “you want to go to the zoo, huh? What about camping?”
"Both," he put a chubby little hand on Javier's cheek and gave him a serious little look, "what's camping, daddy?"
You couldn't help but laugh at your son; he was so much like you. Always ready for an adventure even when you weren't positive as to what was going on.
"Camping is when we go to the woods and sleep in tents and spend a few days away from home in nature," Javier explained and Santi was clearly trying to put everything together, "we could swim, fish, and sleep under the stars."
"Oh," his little eyes lit up with excitement, "can Stevie and Charlie come too?"
"They sure can," five kids and two dogs? Pure chaos.
"Okay," he nodded seriously, "we go campin'. But can we go to the zoo first?"
"Of course," Javier was never one to say no to his children, "how about we go tomorrow?"
"Yay!" He cheered happily, kicking his legs to be let down. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he started running towards the stars, "I gotta tell them!"
"Well then," you turned towards your husband, "it sounds like we've got some busy weekends coming up."
"Think we'll survive?" he teased as you raised an eyebrow at him.
"Only one way to find out," you reached for your glass and took a long sip, "we have to do what we always do - dive in headfirst."
"We're pretty good at that."
"Yeah, we are," you agreed softly, "I love you, Javi."
"I love you, Dulzura,” he whispered in between kisses, “you and our bunch of chaos.”
#javier peña#javier peña x reader#javier peña x you#javier peña x fem!reader#javier peña one shot#javier peña imagine#pedro pascal#agm#javi x dulzura
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practical magic. | javier peña x ofc
Abstract: Can love travel back in time and heal a broken heart?
There were some things, after all, that Helena Goode knew for certain:
Always throw spilled salt over your left shoulder. Add pepper to your mashed potatoes. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Plant lavender for luck. Fall in love whenever you can.
Words: 12k
Content: original female character (helena goode); alternative universe, magic, death, ghosts, cursing, mentions of drugs, mentions of an abusive relationship, mildly suggestive language, inspo both from the movie and the book
A/N: it's still halloween, right? i'm sorry for the late late posting but, alas, shit happens. i hope you all enjoy this nevertheless <3
reblogs and feedback are always greatly appreciated. you can send it here, too
also on AO3 - masterlist
He will hear my call a mile away. He will whistle my favorite song. He can ride a pony backwards. He can flip pancakes in the air. He'll be marvellously kind. And his favorite shape will be a star. And he’ll have eyes like chocolate, worthy of honesty.
Helena Goode often thought about the petals blowing in the air after her Amas Veritas, her true love. Years had gone by since then—she’d been just a kid, wishing on her true love, her perfect love. Thinking it could not exist—for how could it, when all those women came crying in her aunts’ kitchen in the middle of the night? She’d wished for what she thought could never come to her.
And then there had been Frankie—her love, definitely not perfect, but good, so good. And gone, gone forever, because she had loved him so much. Or so she had thought—maybe that hadn’t been real, maybe there was no such thing as real love, contrary to what her sister said. After all her aunts had played a part in her marriage, and for so long after Frankie’s death she’d tried to believe none of it had been real, so that it would hurt less. So that she would not die of a broken heart.
But, in spite of everything, in spite of her bitterness, in spite of her pain, in spite of the loss, she knew some things had been real. Like the coffee he made her in the morning before leaving for work, like the dinners she fixed before he came back, like the colour they picked to paint the walls of their house; like all the times she’d listened for his whistling as he came back from work; like his kisses, and like their two beautiful daughters; like the laughter during the day and the nights spent awake; like the normal life they’d began living, and the shop they’d dreamed of opening together that now belonged to her only.
Like the State Investigator who stood in front of her at the front door, asking after her sister’s boyfriend. A boyfriend she knew to be dead and buried right there in the backyard. Fuck, she kept thinking, looking at the man in front of her—his eyebrows arched, lips parted under a neatly trimmed moustache, eyes dark as chocolate, and—
“I’m sorry?” she asked, clearing her throat. Dry throat. Sweaty palms. Tongue-tied.
“Is your sister home?” She knew he’d asked that already, and he was being mighty patient about it. “I’d like to speak with her, ma’am,” and then, because she had not moved an inch, “nothing to worry about, really. Just routine questions.”
“Sure,” again Helena cleared her throat, and willed her legs to move. She stepped back, opening the door fully so that she could let him through. “Come on in, I’ll go get her.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, over and over as the man nodded and stepped in, walking past her into the entrance—he smelled of coffee and tobacco, of the desert he came from. Helena closed the door and wiped her hands down the front of her shirt, which she suddenly realised belonged to one of her daughters, with rhinestones adorning the front. Fuck.
“Kitchen is just on your left, I’ll be right back.”
Phoebe Goode was trying her best. Each night she dreamed about James—his eyes, old and clear, staring at her—and each morning she tried to stop carrying him with her, to forget he ever existed, even though she could still see him on her face, in the bruises around her eye, in the split lip on the point of healing—thanks to her sister salve, the one that smelled of roses. She was trying her best, ignoring the awful fact she felt him still, knowing that the deepest relationship with a man of her whole life was with a dead man.
So she wore blue for protection, and had asked Emma, her niece, to lock her cigarettes away, and tried to sit in silence to meditate and push him away, out of her mind, out of her life for good. She was even back at the house, where she’d sworn she would never go back, because it was safer, because of her sister.
Her sister, running up the stairs, out of breath, in a shirt that did not belong to her and a skirt that must’ve been older than her, so dishevelled-looking Phoebe felt her heart drop for a moment, figured the next words out of her mouth would be James, and honestly anything after that could be awful, because he was. Had been.
“There’s a cop. Agent. Someone,” Helena was gasping, her voice an alarmed whisper. “He’s looking for you. And James—but he asked for you.”
“That’s fine, we can manage,” perhaps the meditation was working, because even after hearing his name she could still think without panic closing her throat. “I’ll tell him I haven’t seen him in days, and I came here because we’re done. And if he asks, you’ll just say—” she stopped, frowning at her sister as she shook her head. “What? You’ll just say you’ve never seen him.”
“Here’s the thing,” Helena reached for her chest, still shaking her head, still out of breath. Her head was spinning, and her heart—God, her heart—felt like it was about to explode. “I don’t think I can lie to him.”
“Of course you can,” Phoebe scoffed—but her sister was still having a hard time breathing, her eyes so wide she looked like a deer spooked half to death. “Get over yourself, Lena. It’s fine. You’re just having a panic attack.”
“I don’t think it’s that. I just—the way he looks at you,” she inhaled sharply, a strangled noise scratching her throat and making her sound like a wounded animal, then exhaled, breath stuttering. “I can’t sit there and just lie to him. I know I can’t.”
“You have to, Lena,” but her sister’s eyes darted around the attic, where Phoebe was staying in. She snapped her fingers in front of her face, making her recoil. “Listen to me, you have to. We know nothing, nothing happened.”
Helena and Phoebe had grown up knowing that something was real because they believed in it. That was what gave things power—magic, words, talismans. But what happened when two people believed two different things? How did the universe cope with that? Was James dead and buried in their backyard, under lilacs that were growing wildly out of season (girls in the neighbourhood had begun to whisper that if you kissed the boy you loved beneath the Goode’s lilacs he’d be yours forever, whether he wanted to be or not), or was he back in Laredo, or off somewhere else, left behind by his girlfriend?
Javier Peña was wondering the same as he stood in the odd kitchen of an odd house, there on Magnolia Street.
There were no clocks and no mirrors, in that house, and the floors creaked anywhere but where he stepped; light came pouring in from big, wide windows, showing an even bigger garden with lilacs out of season and more flowers and plants that he could recognise or count—rosemary and lavender, roses and daisies, carrots and an apple tree that reminded him strangely of home, but all seemed like a dream through the thick glass. Each piece of furniture inside seemed dusty, but when he ran his fingertip across the dark wooden surface of this table or that cabinet, no dust came away—no need for polishing anything in there. It smelled of cherrywood. It smelled familiar.
It was a familiarity Javier had not been ready to face—he touched the pocket of his jacket, felt the paper tucked in there crinkle at the touch, and a moment later, as if summoned by thought alone, Helena Goode came back down the stairs, slightly more dishevelled looking than before.
Helena had clearly been in the kitchen when he first knocked. He knew because he could almost see it, like a ghost moving around the stove, stirring a pot that had since been turned off, its content left forgotten on the back burden. He knew because she’d called Hold on at the third rattle of his knuckles across the door, matter-of-factly, as if she’d been expecting him. The mere sound of her voice had thrown him for a loop, the patio under his feet shifting unsteadily, and he could’ve followed the sound there with his eyes closed.
He thought then he could be in trouble—and when she’d opened the door, he’d known he would. Because he’d looked into crystal clear pools of grey and begun drowning, down and down without anything he could do about it. His father had once told him that witches caught you like that: with a look. If you ever meet a woman like that, you run the other way, no matter what, for your own good. There’s no cowardice in safety. But Javier had no intention of running—he’d rather drown, over and over, if it meant she looked at him like that a little longer.
She stood at the end of the stairs, perfectly still, with that ridiculous shirt with rhinestones across her chest and her dark hair down past her shoulder, brushing the sliver of uncovered skin at her waist. She was beautiful, Javier thought, so ridiculously beautiful he got a lump in his throat just looking at her. For a moment, before her Can I help you? at the door, he’d almost forgotten the reason he was there. He almost forgot it again when he saw her shake her head at the end of the stairs, and had to touch the letter tucked next to his heart again.
“Can I get you anything?” her voice sounded different as she strode into the kitchen. “My sister will be right down. Coffee?” she wasn’t looking at him, and Javier wished she’d just stop and turn to face him, if only to forget himself again in her eyes.
But Helena wouldn’t turn. She wouldn’t look at him. She woldn’t look at his face, and his neatly trimmed moustache, and his lovely dark eyes. She wouldn’t look at the lines on his face he was way too young to have, and the loneliness embedded in each of them she knew could be found in the silver strands of her hair, too. Helena figured he was not a man who hid things, just like he was not hiding the fact he was looking at her—she could feel his eyes burning on the back of her head, and she couldn’t believe the way he was staring at her. Looking at her like that.
It was how dark his eyes were, the problem. The way he could make someone—her—feel seen from the inside out.
“Coffee’s fine,” he said, forcing his gaze away. He looked outside, where in the distance, still filtered like a dream, he could see clouds gathering, a distant storm that seemed to have followed him there. Javier’s father had taught him to predict exactly when a storm would hit just by the location of lightning, so that he could prepare the ranch in time to brace for it.
He’d never been very good at it. He thought that lightning, like love, was never ruled by logic. Accidents happened, and they always would.
He looked at Helena again, her back still to him—she was watching the coffee brew, her arms crossed, fingers tapping nervously against her elbow. Javier looked at her and thought she was familiar to him—he’d thought that ever since getting her letter, the one tucked next to his heart, but to see her there in front of him, flesh and bones and long hair and clear eyes, really settled it for him.
He’d heard about it happening to other men—his friend Steve being one of them. Going about their business one minute and suddenly they found themselves without hope. They fell in love so hard they never got up off their knees again.
He’d never thought it would happen to him. Javier was all business—he always had been. It was his need to figure out the why of things, of people. Money, love, fury—those were the motivations he found usually, in his line of work. James Hawkins fell in the money category, of that he was sure, with perhaps a sprinkle of fury in the shape of his ring marked on the bodies.
Javier had been looking for that ring at Hawkins’ place—he’d seen it in pictures, read it in descriptions, remembered it from the few times his path had trailed along Hawkins’, because Laredo wasn’t that big of a place, and faces grew familiar over time—when the letter had arrived.
Crumpled and torn in one corner, the flap already opened, Javier had looked at it and thought he should’ve taken it directly to the office. But an open letter was hard to resist, even for someone like Javier, who had resisted a whole lot in his life. But that letter was something else, something tempting, and he gave into it.
He never regretted it.
He had just sat there, on the patio of the house of the man he was looking for, and read the letter Helena Goode had written to her sister. When he was done, he’d read it again. And again. And twice more midair, and then while he had his lunch, and once more when he’d settled in his hotel room. Even when the letter was folded back into its envelope and stored in the pocket of his jacket, the words came back to haunt him—whole sentences written by Helena forming in his mind.
Javier had been close to people, and while he didn’t have that many friends he was content—he’d even almost gotten married after high school, although that’s a topic no one ever brought up, not even himself. But he’d never once felt like he’d known anyone the way he felt he knew the woman who had written that letter. It felt like someone had ripped a piece of his soul out of him and formed into words. Words he was so taken by he wouldn’t have heard, seen, or felt a thing as long as he was reading them.
I have this dream of being whole. Of not going to sleep each night, wanting. But still, sometimes, when the wind is warm, or the crickets sing, I dream of a love that even time will lie down and be still for. I just want someone to love me. I want to be seen.
Javier wanted to tell her that he saw her. Right there in front of him, and even when she was not there, when he had not the faintest clue what she looked like, he saw her. He saw her standing, moving the coffee pot from the fire. He saw her pouring the coffee in three mismatched cups. He saw her hands shaking as she did so.
“Are you okay?” he asked, and she recoiled as if startled by his voice.
“I think I’m going to sit down,” Helena said, casually, as if she didn’t seem about to collapse.
Still she brought two of the cups over, almost spilling the contents of one, and collapsed onto the chair opposite Javi with a shuddering sigh, her cheeks flushed, her chest fluttering. She wondered if drinking coffee would be a good idea at that moment, still feeling as if her heart might explode, but needed something to keep herself busy, so she brought the cup to her mouth and gulped down the scalding drink, burning the roof of her mouth and her lips.
“Why are you here?” she asked then, bitterness coating her tongue. She was used to sugar in her coffee, most times a dash of milk. “I mean, I understood what you told me—about Phoebe’s boyfriend—but why here?”
She saw the man hesitate—he did not strike her as someone who hesitated in anything, but he was pondering her words and how to best respond to her, his lips shifting to draw in a breath, and then exhale. He reached for his jacket—he still hadn’t taken that off, and with the movement it hugged his shoulders tight, seams pulling uncomfortably—and, from one of the inner pockets, took a piece of paper that he handed to her.
“I mailed that to my sister ages ago,” Helena recognised it immediately—that letter she was so grateful had never reached Phoebe, but also wished it had a little earlier, so she wouldn’t be in that mess. There’s a halo around the moon tonight. I think trouble is coming. I wish you’d get out of there. Come back home. Alone. “You opened it,” she added then, a little baffled.
He hadn’t just opened it. He’d read it. The paper consumed from being folded over and over again, each line marked deeper where it bent, words slightly smudged as if someone had run their fingers over each and every of it.
“It was opened already,” he retorted, justifying. “It must have gotten lost at the post office.”
“But you read it,” the cup was burning her palm, the letter her other hand, her face was burning too under his gaze.
“Maybe a thousand times,” Javier admitted, his voice dropping.
“It was a very personal letter,” she whispered too, feeling the tightness inside her throat and belly and chest grow, and grow, and grow until it was choking her. That had to be what a heart attack felt like. Perhaps she was about to end up on the floor unconscious.
“I know,” the man said, and at last she looked at him.
He saw her but, Javier knew, she saw him too. She could’ve seen how Javier wasn’t sure how far he’d go to cover for someone—he’d never been in that position before, and he despised the way it felt. But he was there, sitting in her kitchen, drinking her coffee, a total stranger on a humid day, wondering if he was going to look the other way because of her. She could see all that—or at least, she hoped.
And then Phoebe came down. Noisy steps down the stairs, announcing her presence to the entire world—she always had that about her, always managed to bring the attention to her, with her lovely strawberry-blonde hair and her long lashes and full lips. Even with the bruises, even with the wounds, even with her fear embedded so deeply into her skin it was painful, Phoebe was beautiful.
Still, Javier focused on Helena, and it wasn’t until her sister stood at her side that he caught a glimpse of her. Night and day, that’s what the aunts called them. He didn’t know, but he would’ve agreed—so starkly different, yet seemingly in tune with each other.
“As I’ve said your sister, I won’t take up much of your time,” Javier cleared his throat, offered his hand to Phoebe as he stood. He missed the feeling of his letter against his body, but Helena was clutching it tight, pressing it against her stomach. “It’s just a couple of questions, routine checks.”
“Of course—agent, is it?” Phoebe’s voice was soft where Helena’s was strong. She took up space just by standing, her arms folded in front of her as she held the third cup that had been on the counter.
“Yes, ma’am—Agent Peña.” Only then did she take his hand, a delicate shake before turning his palm up towards her face, peering down with an interested hum.
“You’ve come a long way just for a couple of routine questions, Agent Peña.” Her thumb ran along one of the lines on his palm, tracing it with a feather-like touch. Her brows knitted for a moment, confusion locking on her features (eyes darting towards her sister) before she shook herself. “I see here it’ll be worth the trip,” she mused, tapping his palm.
“Right.” Again he cleared his throat, and pulled his hand back. “When was the last time you saw James Hawkins?”
“Ah, a man of action,” Phoebe scoffed lightly, then shrugged. “Couple of weeks, just before I came here. It just wasn’t working anymore.”
“Is he responsible for that?” he asked, gesturing towards her face, the bruises.
“As I’ve said, it wasn’t working anymore,” she tipped her chin up, leaned with her hip against Helena’s chair. “I have no idea where he might be. If a man hits me, he only does it once,” Helena’s breath hitched, her grip on both the cup and letter tightening.
“What about the car? The one with the Texas plate—it’s registered in his name,” Javier thought he might as well reveal all his cards from the beginning. Neither sister was stupid, but still Phoebe was lying—he knew she was. He had seen that look before, countless times: people who are guilty of something think they can hide it by not looking at you. Or looking at you too much.
Helena wasn’t looking at him anymore—again. Phoebe was staring him down. But Helena wasn’t looking at him, because she knew, she was certain, that could not lie to the man. She feared her eyes would betray her too, like her heart was doing, like she imagined her words would if she were to say anything more.
“I took it when I ran,” Phoebe said, sighing. “And I know that’s wrong, so you may take it right away—I just needed a way out. That was the fastest.”
She was good, Javier managed to think in that haze-like feeling he’d found himself in since he’d walked into the house. Since he’d seen Helena. Her eyes.
“And you have not heard from him since?” Phoebe shook her head, sipping on her coffee and grimacing—too bitter, too strong. But it helped keep her mind away from the times she had heard from James—in her dreams, nightmares, really; or when she was distracted, and his voice crept into her head; or when she looked in the mirror and his reflection stared back.
“I have not,” she smacked her lips, the taste of the coffee lingering on the tip of her tongue.
“Alright, well,” Javier picked his cup and drank most of the coffee that remained—he liked it that way, black and strong, it reminded him of his father—then went to the sink to rinse the cup. Helena watched him while his back was turned, and almost smiled at the way he let the water slosh from side to side enough to get any residue off before settling it upside down. “If anything comes to mind, I’ll be around a couple of days longer—I’m staying at the Hide-A-Way Motel.”
“Really?” was the first thing Helena said in what felt like ages. Javier turned around—he was just stalling then. He wanted to remain there, with her. He wanted to keep on looking into Helena’s eyes and drown, drown, drown for days. He saw nothing else but her eyes.
“Lady at the car rental desk suggested it—it isn’t half bad,” he shrugged, and smoothed his jacket down. He felt the absence of the letter when he ran his hand across his chest, and the paper did not crinkle under his touch. Helena curled her fingers around her words. “Nice area.”
“It is,” she should know—her shop was one street away from the motel. She’d picked the area with Frankie because of how nice it was, close enough to the park it gave the impression of being around nature, but not so far from town that nobody would walk by the shop.
Phoebe watched the agent and her sister look at each other and frowned—for a moment, what she’d seen on Peña’s palm flashed before her eyes again. A new beginning, a line cut through by something, someone he could not escape. It had been written on his skin since the beginning. Some fates were just guaranteed.
“If I happen to remember anything else, I’ll come around,” Phoebe said, cutting through the crackle of energy that passed from one to the other. It was as if she’d woken them up from a dream, a dream made of only looks and silence. “You can have the car taken away.”
“Great,” he cleared his throat, and forced himself to back away. He knew that if he lingered any longer, he’d never want to leave. It was hard enough already. “Thanks.”
Helena felt like she was losing her mind.
The night before, a ring had appeared around the moon. A halo around the moon was always a sign of disruption—but it was a double ring, all tangled up, anything could happen. Helena didn’t like the thought, and she hadn’t been able to sleep all night.
The sparrow that used to fly each midsummer’s eve into the house on Magnolia Street had come back, out of season, round and round the dining room—her daughters had counted each circle: three. Three meant trouble, it always had. She’d chased it out with her sister, both of them on edge.
And it rained. All night and through the morning, one of her daughters standing by the window looking at the lilacs being hit by drop after drop, tapping her fingers nervously. Emma was looking at the man in their backyard, who stared back at them like from a vision, a nightmare rather than a dream. She was hoping he would go away, but the bad weather did not bother him—he seemed to relish in the black skies and the wild wind, and the rain passed through him. Emma thought—she knew—it was his fault that things were going amiss in the house, even though she didn’t know the extent of it: pipes rusting and the tile floor of the basement turning to dust, nothing in the refrigerator would stay fresh.
Both sets of sisters fought, loud and mean and just like he wanted them to. Emma would’ve liked them all to stop. Helena thought of chopping the lilacs all night long, but had to go to work.
And then there was Javier. Agent Peña, who walked around town and talked to everyone and was always there when she turned around from the counter. Javier, with a cigarette hanging from his lips at every street corner. Always there, always there, always there.
“Fuck!” Helena exclaimed, when the jar she was trying to place on the shelf fell and shattered on the ground, shards of glass flying around her ankles and the contents—curled dried leaves—spilling across the clean floor. “God, give me a break.”
“Are you okay, Lena?” a voice called from the other side of the shop. Helena didn’t have many friends—it came with the Goode name, being shunned away. But Crystal was one of the few who did not shy away, besides being a good employee. “Let me help you.”
“It’s alright, I just haven’t been sleeping well,” she went to gather the glass and leaves, both crunching as she moved the broom across them. “But could you put the kettle on? Maybe some tea will do me good,” even though she craved coffee desperately.
She’d craved coffee ever since she’d met with the agent. Black and bitter. She could smell it in the air around her, no matter which room she walked in, or which street—along with tobacco and more. She’d never smoked a cigarette in her life but now felt her fingers itch as if reaching for one.
Crystal obliged without question—she’d learned early on that many things around Helena Goode just did not make sense, and there was no point in prying. It had been that way since they were children. Her mother liked the Goode aunts, said that it was not their fault for more than two hundred years their family had been blamed for everything that went wrong in town.
Some people are just different. Most people are just stupid to be afraid of it.
She remembered their classmates being terrified of the day a bunch of cats followed Helena to school—witchery, they called it. A witch and her familiars. Nasty, nasty creatures, the whole lot of them. But Crystal remembered Helena being kind and poised, she remembered her balanced lunches, and the way she always looked out for her sister. She still did. Why people would think Helena and Phoebe had any evil in them escaped her.
Goode women ignored convention; they were headstrong and willful, and meant to be that way.
“Thank you, Crystal,” Helena said from the kitchenette, throwing away the spoiled merchandise..
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go home? I can look after the shop,” but even as she asked, Helena was shaking her head, lips trembling with her deep inhale. “Lena, did something happen?”
“It’s not—” a bell. The shop’s bell. Helena looked up from her mug, the smell of lavender easing her headache a little, and then turned. “I’ll get it.”
He was everywhere, always there, always there, in her shop, too. Helena stood frozen next to the counter and looked at the agent who was looking around—a feeble attempt at not immediately turning towards her, not falling into her eyes right away.
“Yes?” she managed to ask, her throat dry once again. Just by his mere presence.
“I’m afraid I forgot to bring enough toothpaste,” Javier lied. He’d thrown an almost full tube in the bin just that morning—still wasn’t sure why. Maybe because so many people had told him about Helena’s shop, just around the corner. How the woman was the way she was, but her products were amazing.
“You could’ve gone to the market,” she said, but placed her mug down and moved to the shelf anyway. Once she wasn’t looking at him, she managed to exhale again, but still his eyes burned on the back of her head, and she suddenly felt conscious of the fact she probably had forgotten to brush her hair in the morning.
“Yes,” he retorted, and didn’t add anything else. He knew he could’ve, but he didn’t want to. And he could’ve told her it was because so many people had recommended her stuff, or because the shop was closer to his motel. But he didn’t.
“Any allergies?” she asked, moving the stool closer to the shelf.
“No, ma’am.” She paused, one foot up the step as she bit her tongue—just a moment, then she climbed and grabbed a jar, the label scribbled so hurriedly it was unreadable, the dark paste inside a stark contrast with the white paper.
“Charcoal—whitens the teeth,” she moved back down, the counter between them as she handed the product to him—her eyes flickered towards the cigarette that he’d tucked over his ear, shaking her head lightly. “Nasty habit,” she muttered, lowering her gaze.
“I’m aware,” Javier chuckled—as he took the jar, he grazed her fingers. Helena pulled back as if she’d been burned, fingertips curling into her palm and pressing harshly. “Does this stuff actually work?” he cleared his throat, turning it in his palm to glance at the label again.
He knew her handwriting. He could read it like the back of his hand. I have this dream of being whole.
“It does,” Crystal called as she walked in from the kitchenette, and Helena leaned over the counter and reached for her mug—anything to keep her hands busy. “See for yourself. On the house.”
“He can’t accept it on the house, Crystal,” she said, moving back. “There’s an investigation ongoing—isn’t that right?” it looked as if she might turn to him while she addressed him, but didn’t. Again.
“That’s right,” Javier cleared his throat, shuffling a little. He was so close to the counter he could feel the edge of it dig into his stomach, and forced himself to look at the other woman. “But are you giving me your word? That it works.”
He was a charmer. Helena knew already—Crystal was just finding out. She wanted to ask what investigation Helena was talking about, what was happening at the house on Magnolia Street that she desperately did not want to go back, and what was happening with the agent so desperately trying to meet her eyes.
“Cross my heart,” she said instead, because she knew this would be another inexplicable moment. She’d made her peace with it. “Swear to God, this woman is a magician. Let me ring you up.”
Helena hid her face with the mug, the dwindling steam turning her cheeks a soft shade of red. At the same time, Javier scoffed lightly.
“Right,” he muttered, reaching for his wallet. “Heard that one before. Thanks.”
It took a moment for Helena to register his words—she was trying so hard to not hear him, to not focus on him, that she didn’t understand what he was saying until he was out of the door, an echo of the bell ringing in her mind.
“Wait, what?” she placed the mug down, looking up at his back behind the glass. “Hold on.”
She shouldn’t have gone after him. She should’ve known better. Helena spent her whole life being vigilant, she spent her whole life relying on logic and common sense, she’d taken care of everything from the moment her parents had died, and then again when Frankie had died—she thought about everything.
She had to, because otherwise how would her kids have made it to fourteen and fifteen?
She had to, because if she stopped thinking about everything, what exactly was she left with? Her thoughts and worries are the only reason she continued to exist, of that she was certain.
Never look back, never change direction, that’s what she had to tell herself. Don’t think about being alone in the dark, or storms or lightning and thunder, or the true love you won’t ever have. Life, she knew, was brushing her teeth and making breakfast for her kids and not letting her mind wander.
But that was a lie—from the beginning Helena had been lying to herself, telling herself she could handle anything: her parents dying, her sister relying on her, her aunts’ reputation, Frankie, Frankie’s death, the spell, the year where everything went grey, her children, and now this. She’d grown tired—she didn’t want to lie anymore. One more lie and she’d be lost. One more lie and she’d never find her way back through the woods.
And it’s all because of him.
“What did you mean?” she stopped abruptly when he did, taking a step back when he turned to look at her. She tugged her cardigan close, the wind whipping the ends around along with her hair, and tipped her chin up with her arms crossed, finally, finally looking back at him. “Heard that one before?” she echoed. “Is that why you were at my shop?”
“No,” he shook his head. “It’s because I needed toothpaste, and I’m just around the corner,” she scoffed lightly, shuffling her feet. “But actually, yes, I heard a bunch of stuff that doesn’t make sense at all, so I’d like to understand.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s my job,” he retorted. “Because, seriously, I have heard it all. A family of witches, a curse, your own husband—”
“Don’t,” she snapped, and for a moment Javier recoiled, saw the truth in the words of all the people who had warned him off Helena Goode. With her hair dancing in the wind, and her cheeks still red, and her eyes oh-so-clear, like a storm incoming, he understood. “Do not bring Frankie into this.”
“Hard not to, when it’s everything this town talks about,” he took a step forward, her whole body seizing up. “Do you have any idea how strange this all sounds to me? People tell me you’re here cooking up placenta bars, that you’re into devil worship.”
“You think I don’t know that?” her voice was lower, and pulled him closer. “All my life, this town—I know what they say about me, I know what everybody thinks.” She wanted to move away—she wanted to lean in. She remained still. “All my life I wanted nothing more than to be seen as normal, but that’s just not the way it is. I don’t have a ranch house or a white picket fence, I don’t have a husband that’s alive anymore, I don’t have—” she cut herself off, unsure as to why she was so ready to pour her heart out to a stranger in the middle of the street. “I don’t see how that’s my fault.”
“I never said it was,” Javier spoke softly, a gentleness that felt foreign on his tongue but rolled off easily when he looked at her.
“Then why are you here?” her chin was still up, but she was looking down at her nose, careful to avoid his gaze—it made him believe that she, too, felt that tug in the pit of her stomach. She was just better at controlling it.
Your letter, he almost said. You.
“James Hawkins,” he replied instead. “A guy like that doesn’t simply vanish.”
“And would that be such a big loss?” she scoffed, tightening her arms around herself. “A guy like that—wouldn’t it be so much better if he did just vanish?”
“Maybe,” he shrugged, and felt his hands move before he could control himself. “But I made a vow, and I have a job—” his fingertips grazed her arm, and at that she pulled back.
“As do I,” one hand moved to the point he’d brushed, holding the spot as if it hurt, tight against her chest. “So unless you have something you want to ask me, Agent Peña, I’d rather get back to it.”
“Are you or your sister hiding James Hawkins?”
“He’s not here, no.”
“Did you or your sister kill James Hawkins?” he asked, and her eyebrows arched.
“Oh, yeah. Couple of times,” Javier sighed, and forced himself back, his hand now itching for his cigarette. “Is that all?” he put it between his lips, ignoring the frown forming on her brow.
“Yeah, sure,” he didn’t light it up just yet, but reached for the lighter nevertheless—he missed the letter in his pocket whenever he touched it. “Bye, Helena.”
He watched her go back inside the shop with her shoulders pulled back tight, steps unsteady, and only when the door was closed, the echo of the bell ringing in his ears, did he light up the cigarette.
She watched him go away from inside the shop, with his steps matching the thundering of her heart.
“What is wrong with you?” Phoebe watched her sister kneel on the ground, pruning shears in hand and purple flowers all around her, on her. “What are you doing?”
“I’m tired of seeing these every time I look out of the window,” her breath was short—the flowers seemed endless, she cut and cut and cut and still they were there. “And the smell—I hate it. I can’t do it anymore.”
“Lena—Lena! It’s just flowers!” although Phoebe knew it was not entirely true. Mostly, she ignored the lilacs, and everything that was underneath it. Especially what was underneath it. “Stop it, before you hurt yourself.”
“Oh, now you’re thinking about that?” Helena dropped the shears and stood, the soil on her jeans already a stain she wouldn’t manage to remove. “Now that there’s a cop after us? Now you think I might hurt myself?”
“So what? We stick to our story. No body, no crime,” she gestured towards the lilacs. “There is not a single reason why he should think we’ve done something, unless you give him one.”
“But we did, Phoebe. You understand that, don’t you?” she hissed, walking up to her sister. “We fucked up, and somehow I’m still the one who’s cleaning up your messes,” Phoebe’s eyes widened, mouth set in a thin line. “I’m sick of this.”
“I never asked you to, I never—”
“Enough lies, Pheebs. Aren’t you tired?” Helena smelled like the lilacs, and her headache was back, stronger and stronger as the storm approached from the horizon. “I know I am. I’m so tired of lying.”
“What are you talking about?” Phoebe had lowered her voice, and was looking at her sister as if she could not recognise her. “Lena—you can’t do that,” even as she said it, Helena walked past her, brushing her hands down the front of her jeans. “You can’t go to him,” she said, following her. “We’ll both be sitting in jail if you do. What about the girls? Why are you even thinking about it now?”
Helena wasn’t sure why. She knew she’d woken up smelling cigarettes and coffee again, and the lilacs, and the nightmare still clinging to her eyelids, making her feel unrested as she had for the past days. Weeks. She wasn’t sure anymore. All she knew is that her throat hurt from all the lies she’d told Javier, and she wanted to come clean, to tell all—she wanted someone to listen to what she had to say and really hear her, the way no one ever had before. So she’d gone to work, and back home to cut the flowers, and as sundown approached she would go out for Javier.
“Don’t tell me about the girls now, when I spent half my life thinking only about them,” she said loudly, marching in and out of room after room of the house, grabbing things she wasn’t even sure she needed. “And you? You only ever thought about yourself. You left me here. You lived your life. And you dragged me back in just to save your ass.”
“Oh, that’s it, isn’t it?” Phoebe screamed too, from the middle of the house, following the noises of her sister as she stomped around. “I lived my life and you hate me for it!”
“I don’t hate you, Phoebe.”
“No, no, sure—you’re unbelievable. You spent all your life trying to be normal and fit in, but you never will! You know we’re different, and so are your girls,” Helena stopped abruptly to look at her.
“That’s twice now—you leave them out of this,” she said with a scowl so similar to that of their mother’s, if only either of them could remember her.
“All my life I’ve wished I had half your talent—you’re wasting yourself, Lena,” Phoebe cried, and for a moment she sounded just like the little girl who had just gotten to the aunts’ house. “And now you—what? You’re gonna turn yourself in? Or get down on your knees and beg for mercy?”
“If I’ll have to, yes,” Helena said without a second thought, fixing her sister with a look. “I’m done.”
They both measured themselves harshly, always had, as if they had never been anything but those two plain little girls, waiting at the airport for someone to claim them.
If you go against what you believe in, you’re nothing. That was another thing his father liked to say—and Javier knew he was right. So he was going to stick to his plan: fly back home and give up the case to the poor bastard who was supposed to get it from the beginning, had it not been for the letter. He was going to go back to work as usual, forget about the whole ordeal, forget about grey eyes and dark hair and his own heart.
Heart, heart, heart beating to the sound of the knocking on his door, that for a moment he’d thought to be rain pattering on the ground and the roof, such the strength of the storm was. But he heard it, and when he opened the door, Helena was there, shivering and looking up at him.
“You want a confession?”
In his line of work, Javier had been trained to notice things, but he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. Part of the reason was that he’d been imagining Helena everywhere he went. So maybe it was just an illusion, a desire of his heart turned into a vision.
“What?” he stepped aside and, water falling from her hair, Helena walked in, trailing mud behind.
“You want a confession, don’t you? It’s why you’re still here,” she was shaking, arms crossed over her chest with wet clothes clinging to her. “We killed James. Technically, I killed James. I used belladonna.”
“I know,” Helena frowned, moved the hair out of her face with trembling hands.
“You know?” she sniffled, part from the cold part from the smell attacking her nostrils—coffee and tobacco and, surprisingly, food.
“I found some in the car—saw the same thing in your shop and had it analyzed,” he closed the door, careful to not turn the lock, leaving her a way out as he moved back towards the kitchenette. “His ring was in there, too. There was blood on it. Have you had any dinner?”
“I—what is this, some sort of joke?” she asked, slightly out of breath, and stepped in his direction. Javier scoffed, his back to her as he shook his head a little.
“Far from it,” he muttered, turning the stove off. Still, he didn’t move to look at her—if he did, he wouldn’t be able to say what he had to. He could feel her shiver, just a few steps from him, and it took everything in him to not reach over and grab her and hold her close. “But I have no idea what to do from here. I can’t say that I’m sorry Hawkins is gone, and I can’t—”
“Javier—” he exhaled—it was the first time she said his name, and he gripped the counter with both hands as he closed his eyes. Through the rain, and the soil, and the smoke in his room, he could smell lilacs and that same scent that had clung to the letter, which had bled onto his fingers each time he reread it.
“I was gonna turn over the case,” she held her breath at his words—he heard the light hiccup as her lips sealed, and slowly turned, though his gaze remained lowered. “I can’t say I’m impartial anymore—I can pretend, but I’m not. I no longer can tell what’s right and what’s wrong and you—you came here, and what did you think would happen?”
“I don’t know,” her voice was small, and Javier knew she was looking at him—the roles had switched, he could feel her gaze burning across his skin. “That’s the thing, I don’t know. I’m tired—of lying, of hiding, of those fucking flowers,” she sniffled, and from the corner of his eyes he could see her rubbing her arms. “The thing is, I’m pretty sure it’s because of you, and I can’t stand it—because I know I’ll get hurt, and my sister will get hurt, and my children, too.”
“Then why,” his voice had dropped slightly, and he took one more step forward, looking up at last—they were standing so close now, heat radiating off of him and clinging to her chilling bones, “are you here, Helena?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered, her hands seeking him before she could even realise. “Maybe this,” her letter was almost destroyed, wet and crumpled as she held it between them.
Fear or loneliness—she wasn’t sure she could distinguish them anymore. When the deathwatch beetle had started ticking for Frankie, then she’d been afraid. When she’d stopped speaking and seeing colours for a year, and her children had been by themselves, then she’d been afraid. When she was young, and she sneaked down the stairs with her sister to see what the aunts where up to, then she’d been afraid. In that moment, she was terrified.
And lonely. She’d never felt more alone or lonely before in her life. She wished she could’ve believed in love’s salvation, but truth was desire had been ruined for her. She wished she’d never spied on the aunts’ and seen their customers crying and begging and making fools of themselves. She’d become love-resistant because of that and, with her sister, sitting on the roof of the house, they’d wished to look up at the stars and not be afraid of it.
But, just like trouble, love came in unannounced and took over before she’d had a chance to reconsider or even think about it—Frankie first, and now—
Amas Veritas—she thought about it again, looking into Javier’s dark eyes. He will hear my call a mile away—she’d been just a child, so stupid, thinking that love was a toy, something easy and sweet, to play with. But real love, she’d learned, she was learning, was dangerous, it got you from inside and held on tight, and if you didn’t let go fast enough you might be willing to do anything for its sake.
She’d learned that with Frankie, and now—
“Oh, don’t,” she whispered when Javier’s hand brushed along her arms, foregoing the letter—and moved closer to him, pulled by gravity, by forces she couldn’t begin to control. “Javi—”
He believed he was going to cry—because she was saying his name again, soft and gentle and like she’d known it all her life, and his hands were tracing a path up her arms like he knew exactly the shape of her, and trying to learn it by memory all over again.
He wasn’t even sure that was not the case. Perhaps a part of him knew her already, always had.
He had stumbled into love, of that he was certain, and was stuck there. Javier was used to not getting what he wanted, he’d learned to deal with it, but with Helena in front of him he couldn’t help but wonder if that had only been because he’d never wanted anything too badly. He did now.
“I just do this,” he said, voice sad and deep and causing the hair at the nape of her neck to stand on edge as he leaned closer, towards the hand she was offering to him like in prayer, and she brushed his cheek as he sighed. “Pay no attention,” he said, but she did. How could she not?
He was there, and she shifted toward him as if to brush her hand along his face, but instead ended up with her arms looped around his neck, his own wrapped around her, holding her closer.
And Helena was terrified, because suddenly she wanted whatever he was promising her, with his lips so close and words so soft she told herself don’t listen, but she couldn’t, because whispers of I’ve been looking for you forever inched their way underneath her skin, warmed by his hands. She wanted to get lost—she, who couldn’t function without directions, needed it. Him.
Everything she did those days was so unlike her usual self that when she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window behind Javier’s shoulder, she couldn’t recognise herself. Looking back at her was a woman who could’ve fallen in love if she’d let herself, a woman who didn’t stop, not even when Javier moved her hair from her neck, the wet locks sending a shiver down her spine that only intensified as the man bowed his head a pressed his mouth to the hollow of her throat.
What good would it do her to get involved with someone like him? She wondered—because the last time she did, she loved so much she got hurt to the point a part of her had forever vanished. Or so she had thought, because with Javier’s lips brushing her skin, the light tickle from his moustache making her eyelids droop, she could’ve believed something had come back alive behind her ribs. She suddenly felt like she had to press a hand down against her chest to make sure her heart wouldn’t escape her body.
“Helena—” he whispered, his arms tight around her—the droplets of rain clung to his lips, the taste of her flooding his senses, overpowering everything else. She sighed again, a shudder running down her spine, unsure if it was from his voice or the cold settling in her bones.
Although, if she were to be honest with herself, she’d say she wasn’t cold. She was burning, really, Javier’s body so close she could memorise it by touch alone.
“Maybe I’m letting you do this so you’ll stop the investigation, even with my confession,” she said, his head straightening—his nose brushed along her jaw, her cheek, and her eyes remained closed. “Have you thought about that? Maybe I’m so desperate I’d fuck anyone, including you.”
There was a sour taste in her mouth with each cruel word, but she didn’t care—she forced herself to open her eyes, she knew she needed to see the wounded look on his face with each bitter word. She needed to stop it—whatever it was—before she no longer had the option to. Before the freedom she had longed for forever slipped through her fingers, and she was trapped again in pain, just like the women who used to come at the aunts’ back door.
“Helena,” Javier said again, mournful, and she could almost taste her own name falling from his lips. The tobacco, too. Her mouth parted on instinct, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw down towards her chin, brushing her bottom lip. “You’re not like that.”
“Really?” she scoffed lightly, the noise remaining trapped in her throat when she lifted her gaze to his eyes. “You don’t know me. You just think you do.”
“That’s right,” he nodded, and the tip of his nose brushed hers—one tilt of his chin, one tip of her head, and the agony would be over for both of them. But for the moment they were just suspended in time. “I think I do. I do.”
“Let go,” she told Javier, and it sounded almost like a plea. “Let go of me.”
He did. He would’ve done anything she asked of him. Let go, hold tighter, kneel, jump into a fire. All of it. So he let go of her, even if it hurt, both of them taking one step back—her arms immediately wrapped around her middle (an attempt to trap his warmth close to her skin), his hands tingling with the loss of her.
“Helena—” he said once more, her name more and more familiar on his tongue.
“You have your confession, and you have your proof,” each word felt like shreds of glass in her throat, while she looked away forcefully—in the window, her reflection was almost familiar again, still a little wild, but recognisable. “It’s up to you. You know where to find me, once you make a decision.”
“I do,” he repeated, somewhat stunned, his mind reeling. She took one step to the side, heading for the door. “It’s still pouring outside.”
“I know,” she only said, and went nevertheless.
For hours her perfume remained in the room, clinging to him for so long he didn’t even notice the smell of his burned dinner. So long the letter had dried on the floor where it had slipped, enough for him to reread it, again and again until he’d managed to fall asleep.
Helena couldn’t stop thinking about Javier. From the moment she’d walked out of the motel room, he had been all she could think about—on the drive home through the storm, in the warm bath to wash the cold away, doing the dishes, in bed, unable to sleep, dreaming about him while wide awake and in the few hours she’d managed to close her eyes, too. Haunted, just like her sister.
She dreamed of the desert, an apple tree in a yard that wasn’t hers and bloomed without water, and horses that ate apples from that tree and ran faster than all the others, and a man who was taking a bite from a pie she’d made, bound to be hers for life. She’d woken up smelling apple pie and cinnamon, coffee and tobacco.
So it was no surprise when Javier showed up that same morning. She almost heard him coming. Yet she couldn’t face him right away, so she hid inside, behind her sister, still skittish, behind her daughters, still confused, behind the pretence of making breakfast.
“He’s staying!” Sophia, the eldest of her daughters, announced, running from the garden to somewhere past the living room—Helena sighed, eyes closing. “Aunt Pheebs! He says he’s staying!”
Helena wondered if, without the feeling of Javier’s hands still on her, she would’ve wondered why Phoebe would care whether or not the man investigating them was staying at their place for breakfast. She wasn’t even sure whether she was glad he was staying or just nauseated.
“Can I help?” Emma, much quieter than her sister, stepped at her mother’s side and pointed at the stove, a half-burned pancake smoking on the pan. Helena threw the failed attempt away and nodded, forcing a smile onto her face—she knew the man was in the room with them, she could feel him watching the two of them from the entrance, could see him in her mind as he leaned against the doorway.
“Be careful,” she murmured, taking one step aside, then another, and more, her own steps echoed by Javier’s. They met halfway across the kitchen, her still not looking at him while his eyes never once left her.
“’Morning,” he hummed, shoulders brushing—Helena moved aside, ignoring the sharp pain in her hip when she bumped into the table.
“Good morning,” she cleared her throat, brushing her hands down the front of her shirt—and then lowered her voice. “Why are you here?”
“You told me I knew where to find you once I’d made my decision,” he replied, matching her tone.
“And have you?” her hands began going numb as she clenched them in fists at her sides. She could still feel Javier looking at her.
“I’m going back to Laredo,” her gaze snapped in his direction, so fast the whole room spun as she inhaled sharply, holding her breath. “I thought you should have this. After all, it belongs to you.”
It took her a moment to manage to focus on the paper he was handing her—her letter, now ruined, a half-destroyed piece of paper she’d poured her heart over, more than once. When she picked it up, their fingers brushed just like the first time, and Helena almost cried out in pain.
“Now, something smells like it’s burning,” she could see the strain in his neck as he turned away from her, looking at Emma. One more moment and then he walked ahead. “Need a hand?”
“I was trying to flip it,” Emma mumbled, a pout forming on her lips that made her look more like her mother. Javier chuckled, settling at her side. “Do you know how?” she asked suddenly, a hopeful note in her voice Helena hadn’t heard in a while. Her chest constricted, watching the man smirk and roll up his sleeves.
“I absolutely know how to,” he nodded with a theatrical gesture. “Step aside and observe.”
Amas Veritas, dancing in Helena’s head as she watched Javier, fitting so well in her kitchen, flip pancakes in the air and making the young girl laugh. It had been a while since Emma had laughed like that, and for a moment she was her soft-voiced and shy 14-year-old again, who liked to look at the stars and sleep with her head on Helena’s lap.
But then her shoulders tensed, her whole position shifting, taking one step away from Javier to turn towards her mother, even though her eyes went past her. Helena knew, without having to turn right away, that something was terribly wrong.
“Mom,” Sophia came running in, breathless, and immediately clung to her arm, tugging harshly. “Something’s wrong, mom,” the panic in her voice settled in Helena’s bones, mixing with her own, and she was quick to push her daughter behind her back, stepping away from the door. “It’s aunt Pheebs, she—”
“It’s not her,” Emma’s voice was grave, so unfitting for a young woman, and she inched closer to her mother, too. Which left Javier at the stove, looking at the three of them with confusion and alarm. “It’s him, it’s the man of the lilacs.”
“What?” perplexed, Javier took a step forward, only to be stopped by Helena’s extended arm, while she pushed all three of them behind her just as Phoebe walked into the kitchen. Accompanied. “What the hell—” Javier exhaled, reaching for his belt.
“Agent Peña!” James exclaimed, translucent as he came into the light. Javier’s head started spinning as he stared at him, then at Phoebe Goode, her arm trapped in his vice grip made of fingers of smoke, then back at him. “Long time no see. How’s Laredo? I think I’m starting to feel homesick.”
As James spoke, Helena had started stepping backwards, her gaze never leaving Phoebe—the two sisters were looking at each other, guilt and fear and resolution in their gazes that no one but the younger girls could notice, the familiarity an ache on the palms of their hands as they held each others’, keeping close, keeping behind their mother.
“Helena,” Javier called, his gaze unwavering as he took hold of his gun. “You said he was dead.”
“Yes,” she nodded, and for a split second, Phoebe’s eyes showed surprise.
“Doesn’t look like it,” he retorted, and James scoffed.
“You’ve all spent weeks pretending I’m not here—well, almost all,” he tilted his head, gaze settling onto Emma, and smiled. Helena pushed her daughter into her back, the girl hiding her face against her shoulder, clinging tighter onto her sister’s hand—Sophia held her chin high, squeezing back. “It’s gotten boring.”
“Then leave,” in Phoebe’s voice there was all the rage of the Goode women before her. But then James turned, his grip tighter on her arm, and Helena watched her sister’s legs tremble. “Just leave us alone,” she pleaded, eyes widening.
“No,” James chuckled, pulling her closer—Javier could see the strain in the woman’s shoulder, her face contorting in pain, and could not wrap his head around it. James Hawkins did not look real, or at least not real enough to hurt them. Still, he felt uneasy, even more so when he spoke again, his head lowered next to Phoebe’s. “I’m feeling very into sisters right now,” his gaze flickered towards Helena, too, a grin taking over his pale face.
Javier wasn’t looking at her, but he felt Helena straighten her back, look at him, and then turn. He heard her whisper to her daughters, possibly holding them closer, to run into their aunts’ room and be mindful of the salt. He heard two sets of steps backtrack, and watched James’ face shift into disappointment.
“Oh, Lena, Lena, Lena—you really do take the fun out of anything, don’t you?” he took one step forward, dragging Phoebe with him—the woman cried weakly, trying and failing to escape his hold.
“Hey,” only now that the kids weren’t in the room did Javier lift his gun—although he was sure it would do nothing to stop the man, and his widened grin only confirmed it. “Let go of her.”
“And you,” James groaned, even as Javier placed himself between him and Helena, “you never, ever learned when to just give up,” the two men looked at each other—Javier’s gun lifting, James’ hand reaching out for him. “You should let the adults—”
Before the sentence was over, James screamed, letting go of Phoebe. Helena ignored Javier’s surprised gasp in favour of her sister tumbling to the side, quick to reach her before she could even touch the floor.
The same floor where a star shimmered, catching the sunlight. Javier carried it with him everywhere he went, in remembrance of his father, the star-shaped badge he’d lived by for ages before retiring. Javier did not believe in luck, good or bad that it was, but he did believe in reminders: of doing the right thing, always. Of never losing sight of who he was.
He picked it up right as James straightened, a hole in his near-invisible hand that echoed its shape. Without thinking, without considering, Javier held it up right as the other man—or whatever was left of him—screamed in his direction, unintelligible words that probably would’ve resounded like threats, had Javier been able to hear a single one.
Instead, he stared as the figure vanished, with one longer scream and a curse, the air darkening in front of his eyes and then dissipated into nothing, leaving him to look at the corridor that brought to the stairs, a ringing in his ears.
“It’s okay, Pheebs,” Helena’s voice slowly brought him back, words repeated soothingly as she still held her sister. “It’s okay, it’s alright,” reassuring, in spite of her trembling voice. “I need you to call the aunts, Phoebe. I need you to tell them what happened. Can you do that?”
“I’m sorry,” Phoebe was still saying, her eyes unfocused though she looked up to Helena.
“I know, I know—but can you?” Javier could almost see it—nights spent with Helena reassuring her sister, hidden under thick blankets or on the rooftop of the house beneath a sky full of stars. “Please, I need to go to the girls.”
“Oh, the girls,” Phoebe exhaled, and released the grip on her arm. “Of course. Of course. I’m sorry.”
Helena didn’t wait, though she lingered enough to rest a kiss to Phoebe’s temple, before standing and walking out of the kitchen. It took Javier a moment to come to his senses, and then he went straight after her.
“What the hell was that?” he asked, his mind still reeling, forgetting for a moment the effect he had on her. “Was that him? Did I kill him?”
“Yes, and no—technically,” Helena didn’t stop, heading for the stairs she used to sit on when she was a kid to spy on the aunts. “It was his spirit, which you banished. But I told you, I killed him. And you can do whatever with this information after, but right now—”
“Hold on just a goddamn second, all right?” Javier grabbed her arm, pulling her right back against him. A split second in which they looked each other in the eyes, and all that had happened the night before came back, all that had been left unsaid before hit them square in the chest, and in that split second, they could’ve almost forgotten all else. “What are you talking about? His spirit? I came here to bring in the bad guy—generally, that’s what I do, and now you’re telling me about spirits?”
“Is that why you came here, Javier?” she stood her ground, her arm still in his hold. “Be honest.”
“Honesty,” he scoffed. “I thought I did—and then you were here, and your letter—maybe that’s what brought me here. Maybe it was you. And I’m all mixed-up about that.”
Helena was looking at him with that storm still brewing in her eyes, and Javier felt his knees threaten to give out underneath him. His hand fell from her upper arm, down her elbow and wrist, brushing the palm of her hand. She took a slow breath in, lips trembling.
“The reason you’re here and you don’t know why is because I sent for you,” she said, quietly.
“I know why—”
“You don’t,” she interrupted him. “When I was a little girl, I worked a spell so I would never fall in love. I asked for qualities in a man that I knew couldn’t possibly exist,” she shook her head, while his fingers wrapped around her limp hand. “But you do.”
“So,” he scoffed, “you’re saying that what I’m feeling is just one of your spells?”
“Yes, it’s not real,” it sounded like it pained her to say, even though Javier knew she was telling the truth. Or at least thought she was. “And if you stay, I wouldn’t know if it was because of the spell, and you wouldn’t know if it was because I don’t want to go to prison.”
“All relationships have problems,” he muttered, and she gave a small, unamused laugh.
“I thought I loved Frankie, but that was another spell too,” for a split second, she held his hand back, squeezing her fingers around his to the point it hurt. “Still, you don’t want to know what happens if you stay. We’re all cursed. You saw that,” and just like that, she let go of him.
“Curses only have power when you believe in them, Helena, and I don’t,” clenching his fists, Javier stepped back from her. “You know what? I wished for you too.”
Helena knew. He’d told her the night before, his lips etching each word onto her skin.
But she watched him go nevertheless, glad he managed to take the steps she couldn’t.
Helena was tired. She had been tired since lying on the floor next to her sister, watching as she was being consumed from inside. But all of that was over. She’d stared at the letter from Laredo for days after that, keeping it stored with the other one written in her own hand that carried the mark of both her touch and his.
She did her best to not think of him. It was near impossible.
James Hawkins’ cause of death was accidental, read the letter. His body was identified by jewellery in the ashes of a body found in Laredo, right by his property. The same ring he’d told her was in his car, the car she’d driven, the car she’d spilt belladonna in.
Sincerely, Javier Peña, special investigator.
“I don’t think you’ll find him there, Lena,” Phoebe said softly, when she caught her reading the letter once more. “But somewhere else, perhaps.”
For days, she let the words linger. Days turned into weeks turned into months, his absence like an emptiness into her chest. She’d almost convinced herself it would pass. That, with time, that too would pass—just another pain, just another absence. She could deal with it. She could.
And then Javier was there, in her backyard, or at least that was what she thought she was seeing, because it couldn’t be. How could he be there, when he was in her dreams just that night?
“What would you do, Pheebs?” she whispered, her heart beating so loud she wouldn’t be surprised if everybody else could hear.
“What wouldn’t I do, for the right man?” Phoebe whispered in return, gently pushing her forward with a wide smile. “This is not the aunts’, this is the two of you.”
All the while, Javier looked at them, standing perfectly still like a deer in headlights, unsure of what to do, one of his hands half-raised as if in greeting but without waving, the other buried deep within his pocket. He looked at them, and watched Phoebe quickly lead the girls away even when they tried to run to him, and then Helena walk in his direction.
“A love that even time will lie down and be still for,” he said as a way of greeting, once they were standing one in front of the other. “Ever since I went back, time hasn’t felt real, because you weren’t there. And maybe you still believe it’s for a spell you did as a child, or your aunts’ fault—”
“How do you know about the aunts?” it was hard not to smile when he fidgeted like that.
“Your sister told me,” he returned, softly. “Your sister called.”
“And you’re here,” she said, a half-step forward in his direction.
“I’m here,” he nodded, moving the hand out of his pocket and reaching for her tentatively. “I’m here because I know this is real. No gimmick, just—”
“Love?” she suggested, and the glint in her eyes reminded him of the moon itself.
“Love,” he repeated, their fingers interlocking. “Helena, I mean all of it. I’ll even quit smokin’ if—”
She kissed him, plain and simple. Pulled his hands so that he was stumbling forward and caught his lips with hers, gentle, slow. She kissed him, and as Javier held her, he felt like he’d finally gone home. She kissed him, and felt that empty space in her chest filling with the taste of coffee and tobacco.
Can love travel back in time and heal a broken heart?
There were some things, after all, that Helena Goode knew for certain:
Always throw spilled salt over your left shoulder. Add pepper to your mashed potatoes. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Plant lavender for luck. Fall in love whenever you can.
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