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loliwrites · 1 month

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October: I'll Be The Moon

part three of fountain of sorrow

pairing: javier peña x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni warnings/tags: set between s2 & s3, early/mid ‘90s, single mother [reader has a young daughter][child won’t play a massive role], lots of f bombs, some dude gets a lil handsy, BAR FIGHT w/ a little blood, terrible exes, SMUT, unprotected p in v sex, fingering, soft sex, creampie, hand restraint [just by other hands], praise kink, catching feelings, cigarettes [are bad for you], one use of bitch [directed at javi], one use of slut [directed at reader], pre during and post-sex photos, terms of endearment [querida, good girl], female reader, no physical description, protective!javi, no use of y/n. word count: 7.4k series masterlist a/n: switching pov’s in this one. hope y’all are enjoying!

Two and a half months. That’s what it had taken for Javi to realize something was different. Previous women had been lucky if they lasted half as long. He generally wasn’t one for follow-through outside of work. And when he tried to pinpoint what exactly it had been that tipped the scales, it was an exercise in futility. It was just that he’d woken up on this particular Saturday – the weekend before Halloween – with a pang in his gut knowing that you’d be tied up the following weekend with the muñequita and your baby daddy. He’d questioned that… the baby daddy aspect of it… and tried not to sound too jealous or too offended. Doubt crept in that he hadn’t been too convincing.

Maybe it had been because his dad had started asking questions. What’re you doing on weekends? You never answer your phone. How come you never go to The Tack Room with us anymore? What girl have you got on the end of your line now? Oh, if Chucho only knew it was the chiquita on the end of Javi’s line, he’d probably have him drawn and quartered.

Or maybe it had been that night last weekend where, after laying side by side in the orgasmic afterglow, you’d turned into him, curled your hand around his shaft, batted those pretty please eyelashes at him, and did your best damsel in distress act about how the Halloween decorations were in boxes in the attic. Too heavy, too big for little ol’ you to carry down by yourself. And though it was already two in the morning (and you promised a thank you blowjob), he’d never moved faster to climb up into an attic, sift through the dust and cobwebs for the plastic bins holding skeletons and bats and little witches. Truth was he would’ve done it for you even without the blowjob offer; a point made evident when after he’d set the bins in the living room, you sank to your knees in front of him to pay up, only to be confused when he also sank to his knees. And instead of allowing any sort of sexual progression, he dragged the first of the plastic tubs between you and yanked the lid off. The muñequita will be happy to see the house decorated for Halloween.

All Javier knew was that by the time he was sitting at the bar on this Saturday night, something was stirring in him that was getting increasingly hard to pinpoint or ignore. If not only for himself, but because ever since his little shutdown last month – the let’s not talk about Colombia shutdown – you’d done an exemplary job of keeping things pure business. The sex was… efficient, for lack of a better word. Small talk was nonexistent. Any question that may have had you curious never saw the light of day. And except for the little favors here and there, nothing personal ever came up. He didn’t know how, but you were too good at it. Especially at the bar.

Which is why tonight… Javier had his beer bottle clutched in his hands. White-knuckled in a firm grasp. He’s surprised the thing didn’t shatter. He could understand that it was a job. He’d been around enough working girls to know that sometimes getting better tips meant flirting with the patrons. And he knew he had no reason to feel any sort of possessive. You weren’t his; he’d made sure of that when he shut you down and told you that this was just sex. Maybe it was only because this guy wouldn’t leave you the fuck alone.

He was a couple barstools down from Javi. No one sat between them, much to Javi’s chagrin. He couldn’t have ignored this guy even if he was so inclined. But this asshole… Robert, you called him… was way too much of everything with you. At least in Javi’s eyes. He was too flirty with you. Too monopolizing of your time. Too goddamn touchy. All the times Robert reached over and touched your hand or arm was one thing. Javi didn’t think it appropriate but it didn’t make him want to knock him out.

But the times when you walked out from behind the bar, drink tray in your hand, and Robert let his hand brush over your backside… too much. To you, Robert was just the drunk that hung out way too much at the bar. But he was also the drunk that tipped you way too much and you weren’t about to tell him not to. Was it demeaning to have him groping you… maybe. And normally you wouldn’t let it happen. But the money…

The first time it happened, Javi nearly got out of his seat, but he was given pause when you turned around and faced Robert. He thought you were going to knock him to the floor. But instead, you only shot him a playfully disapproving glance and shook your head before carrying on with the task you’d set out to do in the first place. And that… Javi knew that wasn’t going to be the end of it. The second time it happened, Robert had gotten brave with a firm hand placement on your ass. That time you turned around and gently chastised him. Something like, “Robert,” your voice elongated the first vowel in his name. But the drunk just giggled and acted like a little innocent boy. Javi, however, felt his blood boiling.

But the third time it happened. Game over. You’d come out from behind the bar again, this time to clear off some tables littered with empty glasses and bottles. And Robert, not having learned from your previous two gentle reminders to keep his hands to himself, reached out again, this time giving your backside a pinch. The time between your surprised shriek and Javi getting off his stool, wrapping his fist around the collar of Robert’s shirt, was miniscule.

“Don’t fucking touch her,” Javi growled, yanking on Robert’s shirt. The man, already unstable, stumbled backwards but not to the floor.

The one benefit of your past relationship – and working in the bar – was that you’d learned rather quickly how to de-escalate drunk, testosterone-ridden men. But instead of going to Robert, you went toward Javi, pushing on his arm. “Peña, stop.”

“Get off me, bitch,” Robert slurred at Javier.

Javi’s focus, which had only momentarily been on you, almost annoyed that you were telling him to stop, was now back on Robert. “How many times she have to tell ya’ to stop, fuckin’ creep?” Javi maintained he still did the right thing. If the situation had presented itself again, he would’ve done the same exact thing. Cocked his fist back in the same way. Made contact with Robert’s nose the same way. And stood over him the same way as Robert clutched at his bloodied, broken nose while now on the floor. “If I ever see you touch a woman here ever again…”

“Javier!”

His eyes shot over to you, finding pure fury. You stepped in front of him and pushed him back with all your might. He only went back a step, which you figured was more due to his cooperation than your strength.

“Get out of here, Peña!” You yelled right at him, but instead of getting a move on, he went to open his mouth to rebut. “Go home, Javi!”

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

Something was up with Javi. You’d noticed it first after he’d turned down your blowjob offer after getting the Halloween decorations from the attic. He had never turned down a blowjob before. Usually it was a matter of how quickly you could get your mouth open. And just when you might’ve started to think that his attraction to you was waning, he’d give you the most mind-shattering orgasm. Which begged the question: what was up with Javier Peña?

It also struck you as odd that although he didn’t stop going to The Tack Room completely, you’d made an observation that he no longer came on the nights Chucho came around. You’d still see him at your house after work, but he didn’t show up at the bar to hang out when his dad also happened to be there. Which maybe was for the better considering Javier fucking Peña decked one of your largest tippers tonight. And had Chucho seen his son do that, you had the notion that he might just ship Javi back to Colombia, free of charge to Uncle Sam. And as if just punching the guy wasn’t bad enough, Robert’s face was busted. Lip split, nose broken. Blood poured from new holes Javi had punched into his face.

You’d told him to get out of there. To go home. But you knew you’d see him outside your house that night. Would’ve bet your life’s savings on it, and would’ve doubled it because when you pulled up that night, Javi was sitting on the porch step – the same place you’d seen him that first day with your daughter. As soon as you threw the car in park on the driveway, he was standing up, brushing his palms on the back of his pants. Time had visibly calmed him down but it had only riled you up.

“What the fuck were you thinking?! Do you know how much that guy tips me?!”

Javier approached you, holding up his hands in front of his chest. “I’m sorry,”

“Do you know how much he tips me?!”

Whatever calmness time had given Javi, you were managing to pull him out of it. Your elevated level… not to mention your apparent biggest qualm being how much money you were going to lose out on… brought him to a spot he wasn’t prepared to go. At least, not with you.

“You let him touch you so he’ll tip you better?” Javi pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and sifted through it until he produced a hundred dollar bill, “if money’s what you want, I’ll put it on your dresser before we fuck!”

“Fuck you, Javi!

“Fuck me?! I defended you and the only person you got mad at was me! How about the fucker that was grabbing your ass all night?”

You got up in his face, ready and way too willing to continue this argument. Had you just taken a moment… a millisecond… to think, you probably would’ve chosen a different path. “How do you know I didn’t want him grabbing my ass?”

There was a chance steam was coming out of Javi’s ears at this point. If you’d been a medical professional, you might’ve asked that he sit down, put his head between his knees, and take a few deep breaths. But you were not a medical professional, you were just pissed. And that last statement? After the steam had fully evacuated Javi’s ears, he scrubbed his hands over his face and shook his head.

“Okay,” he kept his fingers over his mouth and shook his head again. “Then go fuck that guy. I can’t do this anymore,”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. You’d wanted a fight. Maybe some hot, angry sex. But you didn’t want him to back off completely. And judging by everything you knew about him, you didn’t think he’d back off so easily. “It’s just sex. Who cares if I get it from you or someone else?” Even that sounded a little meaner than you hoped it would.

Javier shook his head and let his arms drop back down to his sides, emphatically. “‘cause I’m not gettin’ it from anyone else,”

“That’s not my problem,”

“Yes it is,” he insisted and glared at you. “I’m stickin’ up for you. And I’m decorating your house for Halloween. And I’m fuckin’ jealous you’re spending next weekend with your ex.”

A smile crept over your face, and though you did your best to hide it – to not let Javi think you weren’t taking him seriously – you knew he’d pick up on it. It was kind of endearing that Mr. Famous Playboy was jealous.

He tilted his head to the side, “don’t look at me like that,” he begged.

But you continued to. In fact, you let your smile widen as you closed the gap and pressed your hands against his stomach.

“Quit it,”

You giggled and curled your fingers into the fabric of his shirt. “You wanna come inside?”

He wrapped his arm around your waist and held you close. Fingers dragged absent designs at your lower back. “Only if you promise me something,” an earnest smile stretched over his lips. “Never sleep with that guy,”

“What guy?” You beamed.

“Good girl,” he patted your ass and turned on his heels with you.

You unlocked the front door as quickly as your shaky fingers would allow. Maybe angry sex wouldn’t be happening tonight, but something potentially even better would be. Make up sex. It was unmarked territory with Javi. Up until now, there wasn’t anything to make up for. Up until now, outside of the ‘him being inside you’ part, the sex hadn’t been very personal. He’d made sure of that.

But now he was up in front of you and it felt so much different than all the other times. You’d found yourself cornered up against the wall in your entryway, Javi standing right in front of you. His knee had made a spot for itself in between your legs but his hands… they’d never been so gentle before. Slow hands. At one time they brushed over your skin without acknowledging the scars, marks, and blemishes that made up the entirety of you. But this time… they floated over skin with the lightest of touches, taking their time in exploring the expanse of you. Even the way he kissed you with the caution and hesitancy of someone not as sure of themselves. There was the fleeting thought that he’d remember who he was – what his intent was – and he’d pick up to the ravaging he was known for. Though he never did. Not tonight. Not as he cupped his hands around either side of your neck and used his gentle hold on it to lead you away from the wall and toward your bedroom. Not as his forward momentum was only thwarted when the back of your legs hit your mattress and he leaned his body over you, crawling forward to work you further up the bed. Not even when he’d gotten you fully reclined, with his knees straddling your legs, and started to help you undress. Fabric peeled from your body with the same amount of care painters took to canvas… sculptors to marble.

Shirt discarded to the side in an instant and his lips to your chest the next. Soft kisses traced your clavicle until his mouth met the notch at the base of your neck, then carried over across the other. Your hands migrated up over his shoulders and to the hair at the nape of his neck with gentle tugs. Maybe that’d get him to pick things up.

But he was not to be riled. Even the act of you reaching behind your back and unclasping your bra was met with little acceleration. Javier simply reached up and pulled the now useless garment away from your body. Put his lips in its place. Let his tongue roll over your nipple until it pebbled in his mouth. And you pulled on the ends of his hair again, this time with more force until he relented and lifted his head. Stared at you with hooded, confused eyes.

“What?”

“What’re you doing?”

Javi looked down at your breasts and took a deep breath before he looked back up at you, “what?”

“There’s suspiciously no fingers, tongue, or dick between my legs,”

“M’getting you ready for me. I always do that,” he bowed his head and pressed his lips back to your chest, but when you pulled on his hair again for his focus, he groaned. “What?”

“You don’t need to. I’ve been wet since you punched that guy in the face,”

Javier’s jaw dropped. His eyes widened. Pure surprise raced through him. “You yelled at me for that and your fuckin’ pussy’s drippin’?!”

“Okay,” you positioned your hands on his chest and pushed against him, “you don’t have to be crass.” The distance you’d put between you by pushing on his chest was quickly made up for when you curled your fingers into the fabric of his shirt and pulled him back toward you. “Don’t go slow,”

Your hands tucked lower beneath the hem of his shirt, nudging it upwards until your fingers met his chest and he was all but forced to take it off completely. It soon joined yours at the end of the bed. But when your hands went for his belt, he snatched them away and lifted them above your head. You stared up at him, smirking, when he dropped his weight to you and pinned wrists down.

“Don’t be impatient. Let me take my time,” he pecked your lips and grinned when he pulled back and you jut your bottom lip out in a pout. “Put that lip away,” he ducked his head into the side of your neck and bit into your skin. “Just let me make you feel good,”

“You can do that without going so slow,”

Javi pushed himself up and sat back on his knees. Skilled fingers worked on the button and zipper of your jeans, “keep runnin’ your mouth and you’re not gonna get anything.”

“Peña–”

“Shhh, querida. Just take it easy,”

Convinced you would be – at least for a little while – he stripped you out of your jeans. As he continued on, leaning back over you and nudging the fabric of your underwear to the side so he could feel the proof of what you’d already told him, you realized the slow progress wasn’t as snail-like as you’d first complained about. It wasn’t that it was slow as much as it was intentional. For the first time in the two months you’d had this routine, it was settling in that this was Javier acting on something other than animal autopilot.

His lips came back to yours and took you into a searing kiss. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip. Tongue searched for entrance into your mouth, undeterred. Fingers found the opening they were looking for, too. Pushed into the tightness of your core and didn’t stop their forward motion until they were down to the last knuckle. Your jaw dropped, eyes fluttered open to find Javi’s already in a hungry stare at you. His mouth hung open over yours, sharing breaths as he curled his fingers inside you and brushed the tips against your gspot. A coo left your body, and the smirk that crossed over Javi’s face was undeniable. He had you right where he wanted you.

“Told you I’d make you feel good,”

You spread your legs further apart to give him as much free, open space as possible. Catching his lips for another kiss, the unhurried pace of his mouth and fingers was going to have you spiraling far quicker than you’d like to admit. Tongues lapped and rolled against each other in a battle both wanted to win but would gladly lose. And then he brushed his thumb over your clit, and you all but thought that was going to be your undoing. The way your legs flinched together around his hand, and the way every muscle in your body seemed to flex at once. Then, for better or worse, Javi eased his fingers out of you. Kept his eyes on you for any sign of too much discomfort, of which he only clocked a little. He backed off the bed until he was able to stand at the foot of it and rid himself of his jeans, all too thankful for the vision of you snaking your hand down your body. Fingers drifted past your breasts, to your stomach, and beneath the lace of your underwear to slide the flimsy fabric off your body. It caught on one of your ankles but you hardly paid it any attention; choosing to replace your fingers on your clit and massage yourself, equally thankful for the vision Javier was giving you. Of his hand wrapped around his shaft, jerking himself off with long, steady strokes. The sinewy muscles of his chest, shoulder, and bicep strained against his skin, and knelt back on the bed again. He used his unoccupied hand to free your ankle from your lacy underwear.

Removing your fingers from your clit, you stretched your body out beneath him, grinning like a mad fool for the sight of him above you. For the way his sheer size and presence made you feel small; made for him to take at his whim. He released his member as he was now fully hard. The vein that ran along the underside of his length more prominent than before, and he lowered himself until the tops of his thighs were pressed against the backs of yours. His cock rest against your belly. From base to tip, he measured up to your belly button. A fact that was not lost on you as he held it in place as if to drive that point home.

“Camera,”

You flicked your glassy eyes up to his face, “what?”

“Where’s the camera?”

You swallowed, chest swelling with heat. You obliged, even if just to avoid his piercing gaze, and outstretched your arm toward the nightstand. He seemed to understand and bent over to carry on the plight. Though you watched carefully as he took the Polaroid out of the drawer and then quickly returned to his spot on his knees between your legs. Javi angled the camera downward, jaw slackening as he focused on the image in the viewfinder: Your breasts full and resting free all the way down to where your waists met. His length on full display for reference against your body.

He snapped the photo and handed the grayed out picture to you. It was in your hands for just a second before he dipped his hips and sheathed himself inside your core. His eyebrows furrowed together and with the little coordination he had left in him, he set the camera down on the bed beside you.

“Javi,” you moaned out. It floated into nothingness in the space between you.

A groan released from his chest and he lowered himself to you, chest pressed to yours and his hands cupped together on top of your head, cradling you there beneath him. “Jesus Christ, you always feel so good,”

You grazed your teeth along his jaw until he lowered his head a little bit more, making it conducive for you to kiss him again. His hips began their slow thrusts forward. Each one only pulling himself out halfway before burying himself back in to the hilt. Little puffs of breath escaped your lungs each time he filled you back up.

“So big,” you whispered into his lips. The next thrust had his tip pressing against your cervix and you pressed your head further into the pillow, turning it to the side to catch your breath. His mouth went for your neck at first exposure. “You fill me up so good,”

The continued closeness of his hips on yours meant the friction against your clit was pretty much nonstop. Each pass of his body strung you higher and higher, and in an attempt to ground yourself, you reached up to curl your arms around Javier’s shoulders. The photo you hadn’t even bothered to look at yet discarded on the bed. But he all too quickly robbed you of that opportunity, and gathered both of your wrists in one of his large, strong hands. You whimpered at the lack of contact, but it then turned into a delighted hum when he lifted your hands up above your head and kept them pinned in place with his strong grasp.

“Worth the wait?” He chuckled.

You imagined the expression on your face showed pure bliss. Your pulse had already begun to pound, feeling it in your cheeks, ears, temples. Lips swollen and begging to be kissed. “Fuck me, Javi,”

He smiled to himself, your eyes having drifted shut. There was one particularly hard and deep thrust before there was nothing at all. His hand no longer on your wrists. Chest and stomach no longer against yours. He wasn’t even inside you anymore. And that had you opening your eyes, whimpering, reaching blindly for him until you realized he’d sat back on his knees to get you in a different position. Limp for him to maneuver however he pleased, you shrieked when he wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled you back into him. Then taking one of your ankles, he crossed it in front of his body until your lower half was twisted to the side, legs pressed flush together. Contorted like this, your upper half was still mostly in the position it had been in before, just a little more turned to accommodate for the twisted angle of your spine and hips.

Javi grabbed onto your ass and tugged it gently to give himself a better view when he sunk his length back into you. You winced and let out a sharp cry when he pushed himself balls deep; your body struggling to acclimate to his full size at this angle. Through he reached for the camera again, his eyes never left your face.

“Y’alright?” he murmured, winding the camera up.

“Too big,” you panted out, trying to relax yourself around him.

He held the camera up and took another picture. This one he didn’t even bother removing after it printed. Just set the whole thing back down on the bed. “You can do it, querida,” he grinned and set his hands back on your ass, using the leverage to rock himself in and out of you slowly. He could feel your body fighting him still, but just as he was about to say the words, your instinct beat him to it. Your fingers pressed between your legs and began rubbing your clit. It moderately helped. It being slightly easier for him to push into you, “atta girl.”

“Javi,” you whined and pulled your hand away from your clit, moving it to instead wrap it around his wrist. “Javi,”

“Tell me,”

You swallowed harshly, fingernails digging into his skin, “this is no good for–”

But he was already pulling out of you and grabbing your ankle before you could finish. He placed your leg over his shoulder as he bent back down toward you. Both his hands planted on the mattress by your shoulders. He pushed back into you and immediately caught the moan it pulled.

“Better,” you smiled breathlessly and returned your hand to your clit to match the steady pace he set. “Good. So good,”

“God, you’re just…” Javi’s breath caught in his throat and the muscles in his stomach flexed, “so fuckin’ tight.”

You reached up for him until he obliged and leaned in closer to you. It nudged him deeper inside you and kept him there. “Come inside me,”

He shook his head and moved one hand from the bed to your neck; fingers loose. “Not before you,”

“Please. Javi, please,” you let out a needy moan and tilted your head back against the pillow, elongating your neck.

Javi growled and curled his fingers against your neck, grip tightening as he fought with himself whether to listen to you or not. Truthfully, he was hanging on by a goddamn thread. It wasn’t that he wasn’t close. It was that he didn’t want to get in the habit of coming first.

“Javi,” you begged.

“Are you close?”

“Yes. Please,” you purposefully squeezed yourself around him, pulling his shaft deeper. “Just want to feel all of it inside me first,”

He wanted to think about it while he had the chance. While he could hold out. But then your body fluttered involuntarily around him and his heart almost stopped. His hips stuttered, he bit back a deep, guttural moan, and then not being able to stop it if he tried, he came, rope after rope of his spend coating your walls.

“Fuck,” he muttered, feeling his member twitch inside of you. And normally, he’d be able to catch his breath. Take a minute and pull out of you. But now you were writhing beneath him, grabbing at the sheets and white-knuckling them. Though normally his body would prepare to wind down, there was only one thing he wanted now, and he’d do anything to get it. He laid his weight on top of you, his head beside yours, mouth pressed to your ear, “come all over me, querida. Let me feel you squeeze me.”

Your body began to tremble and a whimper tore through your chest.

“Show me what a good girl you are. Give it all to me,”

Clutching on to him with all your might, your arms wrapped around his rib cage, you hung on for dear life as your orgasm ripped through you. Your thighs flinched tighter to his hips. Silent pleas that he’d stay deep inside you. And you buried your face into the base of his neck, muffling the scream that came from deep within.

Throughout it all, Javi keep his soft, filthy whispers in your ear. Talked you through the entirety of your climax until you were a breathless, sweaty heap laying limp beneath him. And even then, he kept himself right where he was, lips at your ear; his hand cupped around your waist with fingertips drawing light circles on the small of your back.

“Atta girl, querida,” he pecked your neck, taking deep breaths so you’d try to align your breathing to his. “That’s my good girl,”

That had you moving again. Your hands gripped into his side with a little more purpose. Lips laid tender kisses to his shoulder. He lifted his head and kissed you intently. Slowly. Happy to take his time here, even as his member grew softer inside you.

“Can I take another picture of you?” He whispered and waited for you to nod. Only then did he pull out of you, eyes locked onto your core. His fingers searched the bed until they found the camera again. “Turn over for me,” he smiled when you immediately stirred to obey, “chest down, ass up.”

You shook your head and let out a quick giggle, “pervert.” Yet still did as you were told. Turned over on the bed and kept your chest pressed against the mattress with your back end higher than the rest of your body.

Javi removed the previous photo from the camera – the one of you on your side, your body seductively twisted and contorted for him. He wound the camera and then held it up to his eye with one hand. Then, using the other he smacked your ass once before taking it in a firm grip and pulled your cheek to the side. “Let me see it,”

“Hmm?” You turned your head to the side.

“Let me see it. Push it out,”

Your face grew warmer at his request. Yet again, you didn’t take a second to think before obeying him. Wanting absolutely nothing more than to keep hearing him say good girl, you clenched your muscles until you could feel the mixture of yours and his come seeping out of you. The sound of the Polaroid capturing the moment came next.

“Javi,” you moaned. The feeling of his come dripping down you, stirring you up all over again.

But his hand was on you next. Two fingers started at your swollen clit and worked their way up your slit to gather the come you’d pushed out. And when he pushed it back into your spent hole, you let out another exasperated moan. “I know,” he whispered and playfully thrust his fingers into you, pushing his come back inside, deep.

Only once he pulled them out, did you turn over and flop back down to your back. He was crawling up to lay beside you, having collected the three photos he’d taken of you tonight. And you’d curled into his side, head resting on his chest as he showed them off to you, the last of which still developing and growing clearer and raunchier with each passing second. Just the sight of it… and knowing it was you… with his come… you buried your face in his chest nervously.

Javier laughed and kissed the top of your head. He set the pictures down beside him and used his now free hands to wrap around you, holding you close. “Feel good?”

You nodded against his chest, “feel great.”

He smiled and took a deep breath which he held, thinking. It stirred you enough to look up at him, finding him contemplative. But your gaze was unwavering and he decided to bite the bullet. “You know, I never see you when the sun’s up,”

“I’m busy when the sun’s up,”

Javi nodded. “Maybe I can take you out sometime. During the day,”

You rolled over onto your back, “you know I can’t next weekend.”

“Another weekend, then.”

What came next was a cruel, cruel turn of events because you wanted to give him a resounding yes. A sure thing. An absolute. But before you could answer, the doorbell chimed, reverberating noise through your house. You and Javi both looked at the bedroom door as if that’d tell you everything you needed to know about the person at the front door. But after a second, the doorbell rang again, and this time, Javi slid his arm out from underneath you. He was halfway up before you pulled on his arm.

“Stay here,” you rose out of bed and walked to the small closet, pulling from it a thin cotton robe. Javi wondered what that garment would do in terms of concealing your body, but you were out of the room too quickly for him to ask, and pulled the bedroom door shut behind you.

Trapped behind a door, Javi strained his ears for any information to clue him in on who was there. He wondered if it was your ex. And if it was, Javi wondered if he’d amble out of your room and sidle up beside you. That thought had him fully out of bed and pulling his pants up his legs again. But he soon realized it wasn’t. No, because he heard the muñequita’s voice ring through the walls and he figured it was your mom at the door.

Javi looked at the clock on your nightstand when he figured he should probably hide the photos he’d taken tonight with the rest that you’d previously taken of him. And he kept staring at the clock, wondering when you’d come back to him. Wondered if he should just walk out without a care of who was there to see him. Ultimately he didn’t though. Just as you’d done as he asked tonight, he did as you asked. Sat at the edge of the bed and waited until you finally came back.

The bedroom door creaked open and you slipped inside, taking the utmost care to close the door so slowly that virtually no noise came from it. Javi stood as you neared him again and pressed your hands to his chest.

“I forgot her dad’s coming over tomorrow morning. It’s his day with her,”

Javi nodded, trying to be as understanding as possible. “I didn’t know he got any days with her,”

You nodded, “be my guest to take that up with the judge.”

He sensed you weren’t thrilled at all with the situation, and the only thing he knew to do in this moment other than go full DEA, was to try to comfort you. He lifted his hand and cupped it over the back of your head, guiding you into him. Scritching through your hair, he kissed the top of your head and let the silence wash over you both.

But you tilted up and set your chin down against his chest, “you wanna stay tonight?”

Javi pursed his lips and cupped his hands over your cheeks. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,”

“I don’t know if coming inside me is a good idea but you do it anyway.”

Got him.

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

By the time Javi woke the next morning, you were already out of bed. Squinting through the sunlight that filtered in from the window, he glanced at the clock on the nightstand and noted it wasn’t that he was rising late, but you had risen early. And judging by your slightly elevated voice elsewhere in the house, he figured you were running around, trying to get the muñequita ready before her dad showed up to scoop her away.

Though he’d been kept in the bedroom last night, he decided that didn’t carry over into the daylight. Searching the floor for his shirt, he picked it up and slid it back over his shoulders. He did up the buttons and gave himself a passing glance in the mirror on his way out of the room. The muñequita’s voice grew louder as he ambled down the hallway, and he turned the corner for the kitchen, where he came face to face with her sitting at the table. You stood behind her, fighting with her fidgeting to tie her hair up in pigtails.

“Hey!”

You looked up and followed the direction of her outstretched arm to find Javi at the end of it, in the threshold. He was clothed at least, but you’d been hoping he’d stay out of sight until it was just the two of you in the house again.

“Hey muñequita,” he strode into the kitchen and reached out to take her hand. He served to keep her still enough so you could finish tying her hair up.

“Why are you in our house?”

Javier opened his mouth but looked back up at you in the same moment, finding that your expression was much less chill than his was. He nodded subtly, quiet submission to you knowing the muñequita was still awaiting an answer.

“Go get your shoes on. Your dad’s gonna be here soon,”

Without argument, she hopped off the chair and ran out of the kitchen. Her little feet padding their way down the wood floor until she reached her bedroom door and nudged it open with a creak. But your eyes were back on Javi in an instant, frustration rising. “What the fuck, Peña?”

He smirked and side stepped you, having locked on to the drip coffee pot on the counter, full and ready to be consumed. “What?” He opened the cabinets one by one before he found the one with coffee cups and pulled one out for himself. Even took his damn sweet time filling it up with black coffee before he turned back around and saw you staring at him. Unimpressed. Hip cocked out to the side with your hand on it. “Sorry, didn’t know I was some sex object you kept locked away in your room,”

“Not in front of her,”

“She was happy to see me,”

“She’s five! She doesn’t know what she is,” you scrubbed your hands over your face. “She’s my kid. You don’t get to make any decisions where it concerns her, okay? On the topic of us, I get to decide how and when she learns about it.”

“Come on, it’s–”

“Okay?”

He nodded, “okay.”

That was all you let him have before you crossed in front of him and continued down the hall in the direction of your daughter’s room. It gave Javier time to look around the kitchen; at all the little things that made this your well lived in home. The chipping paint on the drawers. The cracked floor tile by the fridge. The way a few of the cabinet doors hung slanted and off kilter, creating uneven lines in between them. The sorts of things you would’ve added to a list for the man in your life had you had one. And it only made him think about if there had been another man between your ex and him filling that void. He hoped not, if only because that man did a piss poor job at fixing things around here.

And the attention he was giving that thought had him failing to fully acknowledge the knock on the door. Half conscious of it, he’d thought it was the muñequita tapping her fist along the wall as she came down the hallway. But then the knock happened again and it didn’t result in either of you joining him in the kitchen. Javi set his coffee cup down on the counter and thought about calling out to you, but then the knocking happened for a third time. This time accompanied with a man’s voice shouting a slur toward you and well… if you’d known anything about Javi’s time in Colombia, it was that he hardly ever played nicely and he wasn’t about to start now.

He pulled open the front door, making sure his shoulders and hips were square to the man standing on the other side of it. A undoubtedly threatening stance. And it was received that way when the man he came to understand was your baby daddy eyed him up and down. Disgust and anger, and something else, rising in his face.

“Who the fuck are you?” He spat, trying to look over Javi’s shoulder and into the house.

“Let’s call me a new friend,”

He laughed incredulously. “Yeah, I’m sure. Slut doesn’t know how to keep her legs closed,”

Here, there was little thought. It was an instinct that long lived in Javier. Before Colombia, he hadn’t been able to save his mother from hurt and pain. Couldn’t save Lorraine from (in fact had been the direct cause of it), and so in Colombia he honed the skill he now carried with him every day. Practiced it until it was second nature… with Helena… Elisa…

Javi took one giant step forward through the threshold; one hand gripping the wrist of the other man, and Javi’s other hand at his shoulder. Turning his body and using it as the perfect amount of leverage to incapacitate almost any threat, he pressed forward until the asshole in front of him now had his cheek squished against the rough stucco wall of the house. Javi took his hand from his shoulder and readjusted until his forearm pressed against his upper back, rendering your baby daddy immobile.

Javier took another step forward, his mouth at the ear of the man you’d once called a lover, and now called him something else. And though he fought, Javi held his ground. “If you say one bad thing about her, I will fuck you up. She’s gotta be nice to you ‘cause you share a daughter. But I don’t. I will end you,”

“Fuck you!”

Javi pressed harder on his back knowing once he let up, the other man would have the prickled imprints of the stucco on his skin. “And if the kid comes home with stories of things you said about her mom, I will fucking find you and I will fucking kill you.”

“Javi?”

Your voice called out from within the house and Javi took one giant step back, creating space between him and the man you were about to hand your child off to. The muñequita came to the door, a backpack nearly the size of her on her back, and reached out idly toward her dad. He clutched her hand, all but dragging her off the porch with a mention that he’d drop her back off tonight. But he was gone in seconds and yet you and Javi still stood on the porch – him watching the car peel out of the driveway, and you watching him. Scoping him out for what might’ve gone down.

“What happened?”

“Nothin’,” he shook his head and carried on back into the house.

“Peña?” You followed him back into the kitchen. He so coolly went back to the counter to retrieve his coffee, but you knew something was up. Your ex had never looked so riled… or flaunting skin that matched the stucco siding of your home.

“We had a chat, man to man. I think he’ll be on better behavior moving forward.”

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