#Javier too has a muffin top | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pascalpanic · 3 years

Text

Caffeine Rush: Chapter Three / Cappucino

Summary: Javier shows up to your coffee shop again, at an ungodly hour.

W/C: 3K

Warnings: food/eating, coffee, implied age gap (reader is about 25)

A/N: I don’t have anything to say I just hope you guys enjoy :)) OH JK YES I DO: I’ve decided that Caffeine Rush will come out on mondays or tuesdays, alternating every week!

previous chapter || next chapter || masterlist

Cappuccino: two-thirds frothed milk, one-third espresso. Light and airy, full of fluff. Has a stronger coffee flavor than a latte.

As you drive him back to the hotel, you smile over at him. He looks so gorgeous, his dark hair dampened from the snow, his lips soft and extra pink from being pressed to yours. “How long did you say you’re in town for?” You ask him.

“A month,” the man tells you with a nod. “There’s a whole policy with vacation time. Use it or lose it, basically. They told me I had to use it now, so I told them to give me a month. I really have about… three months saved up now,” he chuckles.

The thought makes you grin. Javier will be here for Christmas. He’ll be here for New Year’s- that is, if he’s staying. “And what are your plans for it?” You ask softly. You hope whatever they are, they won’t take him away from you.

Javier is eating the second red velvet cake in the passenger’s seat, and you giggle at the sight before turning back to the road. Crumbs gather on the top of his shirt and in his mustache, flecks of red in the warm brown.

He smiles at your laughter. “I have none. I have no work to do. I can’t go back to Colombia early- well, I could, but I won’t be working so it wouldn’t be worth much,” he sighs, thinking aloud. “I could go home and visit my father, but I couldn’t stay there for very long. My hometown is a place you only want to stay for two or three days, at most.”

Your eyes watch his face, that surprisingly soft skin and how it moves with his expressions. Your eyes are holding a question, even if you don’t ask it aloud. Javier can read it without your words as he turns to look at you. “I’ve heard D.C. is nice over the holidays,” you offer softly. It’s less of an offer and more of a silent question: please stay. I want you to stay.

Turning back to you, there’s cream cheese frosting in his mustache and an adorable smirk on his face. Just when you thought it was impossible for this man to be any more beautiful. “I think that sounds like a wonderful idea. Then, like I said earlier, I have time to properly romance you.”

You grin and stare at the road. “I don’t normally kiss on the first date. I don’t think it’ll be hard for you to romance me,” you tease. “I can be your personal tour guide to the city. I only work mornings, so we can do whatever we want all day and night. Which is good, because the Smithsonians are only open during the day, and I want to take you to all of them.”

You ramble when you’re excited. Javier can already tell, can see you slowly leaving that shell you’ve hidden yourself in through all of your time in D.C. Your eyes glimmer in excitement as you consider the things you can do, the places you can take him.

Javier smiles back. “You’ll have to show me everything. I’ve never been here for anything other than work.”

“Oh, trust me,” you laugh. “I know all the best parts of the city. You’ll never be bored with me around.”

Javier’s immediately certain that’s true.

You told Javier last night that you work from 5:00 to 10:30, and he told you he’d swing by for a coffee. What else did he have to do without you?

What you didn’t expect was for the door chime to jingle at precisely 5:34, and for the customer that enters to be none other than the newest head of the DEA’s investigations into the Cali Cartel.

Rushing around the counter, you laugh and throw your arms around him. “Hi, Javi,” you chuckle and bury your face into his neck. He wears a warm red flannel and dark blue jeans, boots beneath them and a thick black coat over it all. He smells like soap and aftershave.

“I’m starting to like the fact that you’re a hugger,” he laughs as he hugs you back, resting his head on top of yours.

You break away and brush off your apron. “When I said you should come visit me, I meant, like, at normal human functioning hours. Like, maybe 9 or something.”

Javier frowns a little as he looks at you. “This is when I normally get up. Later than normal, actually,” he shrugs and puts his hands in his pockets. “You got a dark roast this morning?” He asks as he nods his head to the side, gesturing to the big vats of brewing coffee.

You smile at the question, chuckling a little. Of course he’s observant and remembers little details- it’s his literal job. “We do. Large redeye?” You ask, already heading behind the counter and back to the ceramic mugs.

The man tilts his head. “Actually… I think I changed my mind. Can I do another peppermint mocha?” he asks, a shy look on his face.

Looking up at him, you bite your lip at his expression. He’s so goddamn cute, really, even when he’s being ashamed for something stupid. “You don’t have to be shy about it,” you tease and nod. “There’s nothing less manly about you for ordering something sweet. In fact, most of the sweet drinks we make here are ordered by the business guys or Congressmen.”

Javier chuckles and leans forward on the counter on his elbows. “Oh, yeah?”

You nod and laugh at the memory of other customers. “Matthew, he works at the senators’ offices downtown, he’s a regular. He orders a caramel frappe with marshmallow and vanilla. Full shots of both.” As always, you happily chat as you make the recipe you know by heart.

Javier’s brow furrows. You’ve known the man maybe 24 hours, but you’re starting to get a good read on him. You can tell when he’s confused or worried or happy or stressed by the way his eyebrows position themselves. This one is a lighthearted confusion. “What’s a frappe?”

Your eyes glimmer with uncharacteristic excitement for so early in the morning. “Wait. So you’re telling me you’ve never had one?”

He shakes his head, pulling his leather jacket tighter around him. The shop is cold this early in the morning, before the body heat of customers and the steaming espresso machines warm the building. “No. What is it?” He asks again.

“It’s delicious, oh my god,” you grin. “It’s kind of like a coffee milkshake. It’s frozen and creamy, blended with ice and coffee. It’s my favorite in the summer, when hot drinks just feel too much.”

“So it’s light?” He asks, gratefully accepting his ceramic mug when you hand it over. It’s peaked with foamy white cream and pieces of candy canes. Javier thinks it reminds him of you. Soft, warm, sweet and indulgent. Energizing. Not like anything he’s ever had before, but he’s already addicted.

“Not really. Like I said, it’s really creamy. It’s like a milkshake, really. That’s the best way to describe it. Do you want me to make one and you can try some?” You offer as you stir the spare espresso shot with a little cream and sugar in a to-go cup for yourself. The warm sugary scent rises and you smile to yourself.

Javier shakes his head. “Not if it’s a cold drink. It’s too cold outside anyway. And in here. You do have heating in here, right?” He asks dryly as he sips the hot drink. You can see his broad shoulders soften, the tension rising into the air with the steam from his mocha.

You roll your eyes but shrug. “It’ll get hot in here later. I just appreciate that it’s cold now,” you chuckle and chug the espresso shot, tossing the paper cup into the garbage. “What can I get you for breakfast?” You ask as you nod to the pastry case further down the bar.

He shakes his head. “Don’t eat breakfast.”

You frown. “That’s going to have to change. You seem like the type who doesn’t take care of yourself, thinks he’s too good for it,” you tease and fold your arms on the countertop, leaning into it.

Javier scoffs. “I am not too good for breakfast,” he says, amused.

“Then eat.”

The mustached man rolls his eyes. “Fine. Maybe I don’t take very good care of myself, but I don’t need you to take care of me.”

That makes you frown. “Well, that’s too bad, because if you want to kiss me like we did last night, you’re going to have to let me take care of you, Javi.”

Javi. No one ever calls him that. He’s always Agent or Agente Peña, usually just Peña for the sake of convenience. Those who know him better call him Javier, people like Steve or Trujillo. True, he asked you to call him Javi, but the name is like a song from your lips, as soft as calling him baby. He absolutely fucking loves it. Can’t get enough of it.

You begin to babble on about the baker here and his skills, talking about the various treats beneath the glass case. There are muffins and scones, donuts and sweet breads, croissants and various puff-pastry delicacies. Javier is overwhelmed. He normally doesn’t eat many sweets, even though he loves them.

A cinnamon-sugar sprinkled pastry twist calls to him. He asks for one of those and insists that he pay for it, even as you wander away from the cash register to prove he can’t pay.

Javier stands at the bar as you make yourself your own hot drink, chatting as you stir the syrup with the espresso. God, you love that mustache, you think as you smile to yourself and look down. “So. How did the mustache come to be?” You ask him, smiling and tilting your head to the side in question.

Javier raises an eyebrow. “This?” He laughs, smoothing it down with his forefinger and thumb. It brushes out some sprinkles of cinnamon and sugar from his pastry and you bite your lip to hold back a laugh.

You both have to talk a bit louder as you begin steaming the milk for your cappuccino, but it hides your giggle as you say your next words: “Yes, the porn stache.”

“Hey,” he frowns and sips his drink, setting it back down and smiling again. “It was a thing with my father. When I turned 30, he told me I was a real man now, and real men wear mustaches. He always had one, so I said okay. He shaved it for me and taught me the right way to do it and everything. I liked the way it looked, and it stuck, I guess,” he shrugs and chuckles.

“Really? Because that thing looks straight out of 1975, but I don’t think you’re old enough for it to be that old.” You giggle. The mustache is very retro, certainly behind the times and the fashion of ‘93. “You can’t possibly be… what would that make you from ‘75… 45?”

Javier shrugs. “Well, you’re not far off. I’m 40.”

Your brow furrows. You certainly hadn’t expected that. He looks so young, really. 40 wasn’t even a thought in your mind- maybe a stressed-out 30. “Really?” You ask, though you doubt he’d lie and make himself seem older. He should probably know that you’re around the proper age you are, seeing as you’ve told him about just finishing grad school.

He frowns too. “Is that a problem?” He asks hurriedly, standing up straight from his hunched position, where he leaned over the counter to be closer to you.

“No, no,” you shake your head, and his body relaxes. “Of course not,” you smile and put your hand over his. “You just look really young for 40.”

Javier shakes his head, smiling a little at the compliment. He doesn’t get many of those, the ones where people tell him he looks young or he’s cute or any non-sexual compliments in general. “No I don’t. You’re just being cute.”

“No!” You laugh happily. “You saw my face. You’re a special agent of the D-E-A,” you say, drawing out the letters. “Head of the Calí Cartel investigations. You can read me like a damn book, Javi,” you smile at him. “Tell me, do I look like I’m lying?”

Javier shakes his head, the smile growing wider and his cheeks turning a slightly warmer shade. These kind of honest, pure and uncomplicated compliments make him almost embarrassed. “Yeah, yeah,” he sighs, brushing it off.

You’re absolutely beaming by now. “You’re not used to this, are you?” You tease as you scoop the foam from the milk pitcher into your ceramic mug, with chocolate and almond syrup in the bottom already. Mandy’s in the back stocking something, and no one else is in the shop yet. With this privacy, you lean across the counter, and Javier matches your position.

His face is painfully close to yours. You can feel his coffee breath, and you giggle softly. “Hey. Javi.”

“Yeah?” He asks teasingly.

“I like you a lot.”

Javier laughs genuinely, kissing you softly for a moment before breaking away and standing up straight again. “I like you too, abejita,” he says and finishes off his peppermint mocha.

“What does that mean?” You ask him. You’re nearly fluent in Spanish, from having studied it for years, but the word is unfamiliar.

“Little bee,” he chuckles. “You’re fluttering around this coffee shop like you’re on an adrenaline rush and it’s 5:30 in the goddamn morning.”

Little bee. It makes your heart race in your chest like a bee’s wings, a million beats per second. Goddamnit, this Javier knows what he’s doing, you think to yourself. He must be doing this for the sole purpose of stealing your heart; why else would he be this fucking sweet and sexy and flirtatious?

“It’s the caffeine rush,” you shake your head and wave a hand dismissively. You’ve already chugged a few shots of espresso, and your chocolate-almond cappuccino is about halfway gone now. Either way, Javier makes your resting heart rate double just from looking your way.

“Sure,” he teases and raises an eyebrow. “I’m gonna hit the bathroom. Be right back.” He sticks his hands in the pockets of his heavy wool coat as he heads to the restrooms, near the front of the store.

You take his mug back and Mandy wanders out from the back. “Wow. Who’s got you so chatty?” She asks out of genuine curiosity. She didn’t see Javier come in or go to the bathroom.

You’d talked with Mandy while you prepared the store, filling her in on all of the details of last night’s date with Javier. “It’s, uh, Javi, actually,” you laugh softly as you pull more espresso shots to make him another peppermint mocha.

“You’re kidding,” the woman squeals, her curls flipping over her shoulder as she tosses them back. “Why is he here so early?” She asks in confusion, making herself a drink on the machine next to you.

Your foot taps out a quick rhythm against the tile floor beneath you, the energy already flowing through your body. “Beats me. He says he wakes up this early normally. I don’t know if I believe it, but…” you shrug and stir the shots into the peppermint syrup, scooping chocolate chips into a steaming pitcher with milk and putting it under the steaming wand.

“He’s in the DEA, isn’t he?” She asks. “Maybe they start work really early in the morning. I’ve heard they work really long hours.”

“Well, he did say he works a lot,” you nod. “I don’t know. Doesn’t matter. He’s here now and he’ll get to see me cry my way through the morning rush,” you say sarcastically.

Mandy nudges your shoulder. “Says the most competent barista who works here,” she scoffs. “You have everyone out the door in under three minutes. That’s no easy feat.”

“Okay,” you roll your eyes and pour the chocolate milk into the syrup and espresso, stirring it with a long, twisted spoon. “I doubt that, but thank you.” You swirl a perfect peak of whipped cream on the top, then sprinkle the candy cane pieces on.

“I think she’s right,” you hear Javier’s voice from the other side of the counter.

“Stalker,” you tease and put his mug in front of him.

“Am not. Just think you’re good at what you do.”

“I made you a refill,” you say, ignoring his compliment. “Oh, Javier, this is Mandy. You might remember her from yesterday. Mandy, this is Javier.”

She nods and shakes the hand that Javier offers. “Nice to meet you- well, again,” she says with a bright smile. “You got the prettiest girl here.”

“Mandy,” you roll your eyes. She just laughs as she makes her way to the back of the store again.

Javier watches her then turns back to you with a smile. “I think she was right on both of those,” he comments with a smile on his face.

“Go sit down, stop flirting with me, and drink your damn coffee, Javi,” you teasingly scold him with a smile, turning away to go wash the steaming pitcher and spoon you used to make his drink.

Another customer walks in the shop. You can tell from the jingle of the bells on the door. With that, Javier finds a table in the lobby and sits at it, reading the daily newspaper and sipping his peppermint mocha. He’s starting to see why you’re so addicted to these. To him, they taste like you. -

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @yooforia @oceanablue @sara-alonso @pedrosmustache @feelingmadclever @hnt-escape @radiowallet @obsessivelysearching @sugarontherims @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @linnie0119 @1800-fight-me @autumnleaves1991-blog @toilet-keeper @evelynseventyr @metalarmsandmanbuns @shannababyy @sambucky21 @princess76179 @starless-eyes-remain

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña x you #javi peña #javi peña x reader #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction #narcos #caffeine rush

178 notes · View notes

vanderlindemangofarm · 4 years

Note

hi mango!! could i request some baking headcanons for modern! dutch, micah, arthur and javier? thank you hun! 🌊🤍

Of course! 🍰🧁🥧🍪

Dutch

Wants to bake the most complicated, advanced looking cake you can possibly imagine.

Probably watched a bunch of those IGTV clips and thinks that makes him qualified to bake a 5-tier pinata cake.

Goes out to buy ingredients, comes back with dozens of toppings but no eggs or flour.

Absolutely unbearable in the kitchen, let’s be real.

Gets one (1) patch of icing sugar in his hair and screams like a little girl.

You know the birthday cake from Sleeping Beauty? Yeah.

To his credit, the cake tastes really good and only 2/3rds of it ended up on the floor.

Dutch feels sick from eating too much frosting.

Absolutely refuses to do the washing up until you smack his ass with a wooden spoon.

Arthur

This probably wasn’t his idea but he’s game.

He wants to bake a pie because it reminds him of childhood, in which he would dream all day about pie.

Apple, of course. The only cherry pie worth eating is between your thighs, in his opinion.

Has a mini breakdown about the pastry and ends up cutting out eye-holes and wearing it as a mask.

Actually really efficient at chopping apples and are you CRAZY of course we need organic cinnamon.

Came up with “you’re the apple of my pie” and won’t stop saying it.

For the love of God, don’t leave him with the finished pie unsupervised.

You both eat the whole thing for dinner whilst sitting on the back porch.

Micah

Micah wants cookies.

He’s very precious about what goes into the recipe so just let him do the shopping, you’ll probably get it wrong.

Super unhelpful in the kitchen.

Probably cracks an egg on your head.

Sulks for an hour when you do the same thing to him.

More chocolate chips than dough? What of it?

And hazelnuts! Finely chopped, of course.

If you want, he’s more than happy to bend you over the kitchen counter and fully make up for that egg nonsense.

Definitely 100% burns his tongue on the piping hot cookies because heaven forbid he actually waits for 10 minutes.

Javier

Precious baby wants to bake you blueberry muffins jfc I CAN’T

Spends hours researching the perfect recipe but can’t stick to it for the life of him.

Goes to the farmer’s market to get the blueberries because he “doesn’t believe in frozen fruit” (I don’t get it either, it’s fine).

Sings to himself whilst he mixes the ingredients, mostly jingles he’s heard on the radio.

Low-fi beats and podcasts!

Stands behind you with his arms around your middle as you spoon out the batter into the muffin cases.

The muffins are as beautiful as him.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 modern au #dutch van der linde #dutch van der linde x reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #micah bell #micah bell x reader #javier escuella #javier escuella x reader #headcanon #gender neutral reader

449 notes · View notes

olliejoelinney2 · 7 years

Text

google speech to text

carrying on the theme of google, today i was trying to transcribe the audio I’d recorded of me speaking about times in spain. I knew whatever software I would use, would’t be accurate and would have a few mistakes. What follows, Is what was transcribed, and there quite a few mistakes.....

Robin at the airport weird lands over at Alicante or Murcia Alicante be in a large muffin out of an apple where most of the Hub flights from Spain is girl people go to Benidorm will go anywhere in land and anyone really old people around package holidays maybe the airport we fleet do mostly there was Mersey mainly because it was cheaper and it just fitted in its closest to where we stayed as an apartment and he's been discoloured and the sensitive front of the town and had these themes of colour I'm outside the terminal has he went in saying Murcia San Javier we go past a seagull other people coming from holiday from being on holiday all going to holiday and there will be in severe is States has been exposed to the sun so baby if a brown let me burn all the people will there be love my wife but it will be like there's been in a war zone and then coming back just saw pattern bruised and it was so it's weird to save as I was always come and go in from airport but no one really stays so I've always felt that always have always boys things fencing fortunate and grateful that I've been in Spain for that long 6 week and 6 holidays for 2 weeks in the spring but it always it's always different for a time ago I think journey back to the house of the news to change anywhere along the ap7 all the n332 above there's a completely gibberish to everyone else who has never been to Alicante Torrevieja but there's a pretty big hugs ways and we spend all of our troops but we went to any trips you went to Alicante Direct Murcia got the cane I got them are markets lemon tree markets at summer girl that you'll be on that road is always use at rodeo n332 of ap7 or department all the apartment as such and we have to walk up the stairs over I still the kids getting their meet at stairs maybe 20 30 stairs I get to the the square behind door because the apartments was on a terrace in about time it's fashionable to the Builder apartments as security possible so they have like a great behind or I will open it and because the because the flat the in shut for a year which is good Blaster by heat or heat but being Poole Dolphin size and displaced all just like an oven I've never been with it was sometimes it if it is so hot if it was him this summer will I be able to be careful not to fall back down the stairs so go through the Balcony and up to the roof where we had asparagus and if it was in the spring it be especially when do and we'll have to put on the fabric was Omar Telfer all very boring stuff but it would be in the window it be like for the 10th and rainstorm and it was it was good fun it was done but that's that was one thing all of our meals if your son behave in that would be the one thing the whole truth about Bob would result with Volvo So when there's nothing to do with it if it was too hot to go out my long would sunbathe on top of my dad to stop this bailed out and drink San Miguel and it would just be over the days of doing nothing which was cut the waist down to me but the same time it was relaxing we had this one on space it was converted that it was a it's not part of The Foundations Believers hollow so we not get through it became a storage room so if by the door with a window and it's all built-in built into that be hot on so I'm good memories of being the in there and almost locked in there in the summer and did at the same oven can a feeling being there so be completely really hard sweat like you're in a sauna almost immediately and then you go and then even if it was 45 degrees C if you feel like you un cool air cuz it's so hot I'm a refund remember pink sunsets pink blue clouds and purple answer purple and then it Smoky clouds going across the sky everytime I die but I can just listen to my can hear now this like that kind of music I was listening to this is watching the sunset you never see the sun on the horizon because it was always covered by different buildings all different building developments little going on and it says some place I could see somehow part on all the time now weather what weather is Sylvia Park it was a complex software compare

much like dadaism, or the poems of william burrows , none of it makes sense. This was down to me mumbling a lot on the recordings. a lot of the words were misinterpreted.

Im going to re-record myself, reading out the speech, then running it through again, to see how different it can come out.

Im going with this method of coming up with a text, because while I could write a specific text about being in spain. every time I was constructing a script to recite, I kept on coming up with different memories. When Id speak, Id go off on tangents and get lost in what I was saying. I made several recordings, but only saved one as i wanted to speak in a single take (even If I do sound boring)

0 notes

pascalpanic · 3 years

Text

Caffeine Rush: Chapter Two / Mocha

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!Reader

Summary: Javier learns his fate. You take him out to that dinner you promised.

W/C: 2.8k

Warnings: language, mentions of food, tooth-rotting fluff. I mean it.

A/N: HI FRIENDS if you can’t already tell from my blog, I LOVE red velvet cake and this chapter is highly self indulgent. This fic is so near and dear to me because I really relate to the reader and put more of myself in her than I do others. I hope you guys enjoy!!!

previous chapter || next chapter || masterlist

Mocha: espresso, steamed milk, and chocolate. Beloved for the sweet taste.

To his surprise, Javier didn’t get fired. In fact, they didn’t even mention Los Pepes. He walked in there, sweating bullets and filled with anxiety and caffeine, only to learn that they weren’t the review board. They were operations, and asked Javier what he knew about the Calí cartel. Afraid it was a trap, he didn’t answer, until the man across from him cracked a smile and told him about his new assignment.

“Your work with Escobar and the Medellín cartel was unconventional, but we needed it. If you’ll accept our offer, we’d like to assign you to Calí to head the investigation into their cartel.”

Javier’s brain froze in shock. He was wordless, staring blankly ahead and furrowing his brow. After a few moments, he mustered out all that he could. “You’re serious?”

“Yes, Agent Peña. With the assignment would additionally come a raise in pay and rank, as well as-”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll take it.”

“We haven’t finished the offer-”

“I’ll take it, sir. Thank you,” he said, nodding.

“Well… take this,” he said, making Javier stand from the chair across from the room and take the file from his hands. “This is the information you’ll need, including your new pay and details. We are asking that you take at least some of your banked vacation time. You have several months of it, Peña. Our code requires that-”

Javier’s fully aware of this policy. Use it or lose it. Unfortunately, he’d never had much time or want for vacation while chasing Escobar. What would he do? “Yeah, give me a month off,” he said mindlessly as he opened the file and scanned over the front page, in utter disbelief. He registered his surroundings after a second and looked up. “You won’t regret it, sir. Thank you,” he says and shakes the man’s hand before leaving the room.

Now, Javier stands at a payphone outside of the embassy, dialing your number in his pocket. When you pick up and ask who’s there, he laughs happily. “They didn’t fire me!”

“Congratulations,” you laugh as you realize it must be Javier. “What all happened?”

“I actually got promoted,” he admits, the adrenaline and caffeine rushing through his bloodstream. “It was absolutely crazy. They didn’t even mention Los Pepes or anything, just-”

“Are you ready for me to pick you up now?” You ask, cutting him off. “You can tell me the rest over some food. You need it. You didn’t eat that muffin I brought you.”

“What are you, my mother?” He asks dryly, but he’s too excited to be too annoyed. “No, I’ll head back to the hotel. Pick me up in 30 minutes?”

“Sounds great. Congratulations, Javier,” you tell him, grinning into the receiver.

“Call me Javi.”

“Okay… Javi,” you say, biting your lip to hold back from giggling. “I’ll see you then.”

There’s a click and the phone line goes dead. You start giggling happily, flopping back onto the couch. Javier makes his way to the hotel, smiling. He lights up a cigarette, sighing at the way the warmth of the lighter contrasts the cold and snowy air.

Holy fuck. You’re going on what could possibly be considered a date with a really hot guy and you need to get dressed, quick. You hurry around your tiny apartment, throwing on something nice-looking and messing with your hair. You spritz on some perfume, straighten yourself in the mirror, and rush out to the street.

Georgetown is beautiful in the snow, you smile to yourself, but you wince as you realize the snow might slow you down. Your car is a piece of shit, you have to admit, but you love it. Her name is Whitney, in honor of Whitney Houston, and you beg and plead with her to behave as you make your way to Javier’s hotel.

The radio plays some music quietly, and a handsome dark-haired man stands outside of the hotel, smoking a cigarette when you arrive. You flash your high-beams at him and he smiles as he puts out the cigarette and tosses it in the trash. “Hi,” you almost sing as he gets in the car. “Are you a hugger?”

“Am I a what?” He frowns and asks, looking at you.

“Do you like hugs?” You ask, as if it’s obvious.

“I… don’t really receive many. They’re nice, I guess,” he shrugs as he looks you up and down quickly. “You look beautiful, by the way,” he tells you.

Warmth collects in your chest at his words. “Well, thank you. And I ask because I wanted to give you a hug of congratulations. I’m a big hugger,” you shrug a little and tilt your head as you look at him. He looks nice, in a button-up and those tight jeans you saw him in earlier.

A car honks behind you and you jump, awkwardly waving behind you and taking off so the next car can drive up to the hotel. Javier chuckles a little. “Well… I do like hugs, I guess. No one has ever asked me that.”

You look at him briefly, with confusion in your eyes, before they find the road again. “What a sad, sad life,” you chuckle. “I suppose. Are you… like, recently single? Did you date when you were in Colombia?” You ask innocently.

Javier exhales in a light chuckle. “No, never really had a relationship. Lots of flings,” he admits, finding that to be the best word to describe his situation. “But no relationships.”

You nod along, eyes scanning the road as you drive to dinner. “I see.”

“How about you?” He asks, wanting to deflect the attention from himself. That seems to be a common theme with him, you’ve noticed. All the conversations center around you, no matter how hard you try to talk about him.

“Well, no. I haven’t really gone out much or done anything, really. I’m a bit of a homebody, but once I’m out I enjoy it. Problem is you can’t find a date from the couch.”

You reach the restaurant not much later, parking outside. You get out after chatting a little more, and Javi is taken by surprise when you wrap your arms around him in a big hug. “Uh, hi?” He laughs. He instinctively returns it, enjoying the feeling of your body pressed to his. He hasn’t had anything so tender in a long time.

“I told you, it’s a congratulatory hug!” You say with a grin as you squeeze him then break away. “I’m happy for you.”

He smiles down at you. “I… thank you. That was nice.”

“Well, there’s plenty more where that came from,” you tell him and lead him inside, opening the door and heading into the restaurant.

Javier is a fantastic conversationalist. He tells stories with his hands, vividly explaining stories from the chase for Escobar. He tells you of his partner, Steve, and his crazy methods; about Colonel Carillo, who he still thinks is one of the strongest men he’s ever met; of Stechner, who you already want to gut-punch if you ever meet.

You watch him and admire the way his eyes dart about when he’s telling a story, the way he draws maps on the table with his fingers that you have no hope of understanding.

The food is great but the company is better. Javier’s laugh is a beautiful sound, one rarely heard by others. He listens to you just as attentively, smiling as you talk about the coffee shop, about Georgetown, all of your life.

By the end of the night, it’s easy to declare that you really, really like Javier. You like the way his lips quirk up in a smile, his intelligence and humor. You don’t want the night to end, truly.

When the bill comes, he takes it before you can even try. “Hey, I told you I was paying as a congratulatory dinner,” you frown.

“That can be another dinner,” he says mindlessly as he signs the receipt. “I always pay on the first date.”

“Oh, is that what this is?” You beam at him, tilting your head, eyes twinkling.

He smiles as he looks up at you. “I was thinking it was. I have at least a month off work now, to be wherever I want and I have nothing to do. I’d like to properly take my time to get to know you,” he offers, and it makes your heart flutter in your chest.

“It seems like nothing about you is proper, Javi,” you tease and sip your drink, quirking an eyebrow.

He mirrors you, sipping his drink too. “That’s fair. But we’re in the nation’s capital, I suppose we should be a little more…”

You look at him and try to fill in the blank, smiling. “Practical? Traditional?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know what I meant to say there.”

You chuckle a little. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I like the sound of that.”

After dinner, you give Javier a little tour of Georgetown through the windows of your crappy car. The snow from earlier in the day has collected, dusting the tops of window sills and awnings over shop entries. Despite the snow, the car thermometer reads that it’s somewhat warm for the time of year.

There’s one warm little place with glowing lights. Despite the hour of night, it’s clearly open. Javier asks what it is. “Oh, that’s a little bakery,” you comment. “My favorite place, honestly. Their red velvet cupcake is fantastic.”

“That sounds good. I like chocolate more, to be honest,” he comments.

You continue driving for a few seconds, rolling your eyes. “They have a good one there, but it’s so one-dimensional. It’s just chocolate with chocolate on top. Red velvet is the best because you have the cake and the tangy frosting, and-“

“Pull over?” Javier asks, and you look at him in confusion but pull into a parking spot obediently and quickly.

Your eyes are wide in confusion. “What?” You ask him, concerned that something is wrong with the car.

“I’m buying you dessert,” he chuckles and gets out.

Your heart falls then and there for him. If you haven’t already decided, now you know that there’s no turning back. You want Javier Peña with a passion. “Jesus Christ, you could’ve told me that,” you laugh and turn off the car, getting off and bounding behind him. His long legs have already made strides ahead of you, leaving you to catch up.

“You wouldn’t have stopped, would you?” He asks, the gentle snow leaving white flakes on his dark coat. He looks so pretty like this, the warm light from inside the bakery glowing against his dark hair.

You roll your eyes but you’re smiling. “No, maybe not.” He opens the door for you and you thank him and follow him in.

Javier walks to the counter and wastes no time. “Hi. I’ll take two red velvet cupcakes and two large coffees. How do you take yours?” He asks you as you join him at his side.

“From my café,” you tease him, before turning to the woman behind the counter with a polite smile and asking for two sugars and two creams. Javier asks for his black.

The two of you step back while she gets your order ready and you look at him, smiling a little. There are still soft white flakes in his wavy hair, which are slowly melting into water drops.

You don’t know it, but he’s looking at you just the same. He admires you, smiling a little, just enough the quirk up one side of his mouth. “Thanks for buying,” you tell him and step a little closer. He’s warm, you can feel it radiating off of him, and the shop’s blasting cool air throughout.

“Like I said,” he chuckles. “I always buy on the first date.” He reaches out to tuck a strand of your stray hair behind your ear. “Would you want to come up to my hotel room to eat the cupcakes?” He offers.

You shake your head. “I work early tomorrow morning, I shouldn’t.”

Normally, Javier would be disappointed. Normally, he’d want to fuck you on the first date, leave you screaming his name until you can’t help but come back for more. But to his surprise, he doesn’t mind. He has a whole month to be with you, a whole month to fall for the woman he’s already half-lovesick over. “Not a problem,” he nods and walks to the counter as the woman calls that your order is ready.

He hands you a large coffee, and you take a sip of the warm liquid, sighing. “There’s a little shelter out there,” you say, pointing to a bench with an awning above it to keep it clear from the snow. “Do you want to eat them out there?”

Javier half-smiles and nods. “That sounds good.”

It’s warm for the season, but there’s still a cool breeze. You hurry over and sit on the small bench, Javier sitting next to you. The sides of your thighs touch, and you’re both aware of it, the proximity this small bench forces you to squeeze into. Javier sets the box on his lap and opens it, revealing two red velvet cupcakes. “These look delicious.”

“They are,” you grin and pick one up, licking a bit of the frosting off the top and sighing in content with the taste. Javier watches you, and you’re suddenly very aware of the connotation. You look over at him with wide eyes, holding back a laugh. You both break down giggling at the action, your head falling against his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to do that like... that, I swear,” you shake your head as you sit up straight again.

“You looked good doing it,” he teases you and bumps your shoulder as you unwrap the paper. “I’m going to save mine for later.”

You frown at him. “Come on. I have to be here when you try the best dessert of all time.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I’m too full. I’ll have it for breakfast tomorrow or something.”

“Javi,” you whine. “There’s no point of you getting two if we don’t eat them together. You have to eat it, come on.”

Javier looks over at your cupcake, which has one bite taken. “Let me take a little bite of yours then.”

An idea strikes and you nod. “Sure,” you say casually, holding it up for him to eat it. When he goes in to bite it, you move it closer to his face, causing the cupcake to smash into his chin and onto his nose.

Javier thinks he’s the one that missed. “Fuck,” he laughs as he crosses his eyes as he looks down at his nose, seeing the cupcake and frosting smeared on his face. He sees you giggling and laughs. “Hey, you didn’t… what the fuck?” He laughs, bringing his face close to yours. “That was uncalled for.”

“You were being a grump. I had to,” you giggle, your face naturally coming closer to his.

“And we don’t even have napkins,” he shakes his head and looks at you. “How can I clean this up?”

Tilting your head, your eyes dart between his, smiling at the dark brown color and the way they soften under your gaze. “I have an idea,” you murmur, cupping the side of Javier’s face and setting the mashed cupcake back in the box.

Just a moment later, your lips are on his. His eyes have fallen shut and he sighs as you kiss him, a hand finding your waist and pulling you closer to him. He sets the box on the bench behind him and scoots closer, a hand on the side of your neck.

He tastes like coffee and cream cheese frosting, his lips unbearably soft for such a hardened man. You soften him with your touch, when you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer to you.

He’s in fucking Heaven, he thinks, murmuring your name against your lips. He knows you already, knows the kind of person you are. He’d figured you’d maybe give a chaste kiss on the first date if you liked the person enough. The voracity of your lips against his tells him you might just reciprocate the intensity of the deep ache in his ribs he feels for you.

After a moment, you break away and smile softly. “I didn’t get all of it,” you frown as you see that there’s still some frosting on Javier’s nose.

“At least now we match,” he teases and wipes your face of some red crumbs that transferred to your chin with the pad of his thumb.

You giggle and press your forehead to his, the warmth of his body perfect against yours in the slight chill of the December night. “Will you come visit me at work again tomorrow?” You ask him.

“Only if you make me a drink that tastes as good as you do.”

taglist:

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javi peña #javi peña x reader #narcos #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #caffeine rush

184 notes · View notes