#narcos is coming fuckers!!
Text
the dreams we made
Javier Peña x F!Reader
wc: 3.8k
warnings: angst, set in narcos season two. alludes to smut. idiots in love. murphy & reader banter. javi's secret with los pepes gets out. no use of y/n.
summary: desperate to bury his nose in your neck, bask in the scent that is unequivocally you, that he never truly savours, even if he knows he should.
an: had to do something special for pedro pascal.
you don't have to read the games we play, but follows nicely on.
javier peña masterlist
Some mornings, you stretch, and your muscles groan. The tension having knotted in with tendons and bones—slightly eased by the larger hands spreading over your bare skin. Soft lips grazing over your shoulder.
Other mornings, you wake alone, heading in—greeted by apprehension in the office air, jarringly blending with smoke swirls and the sounds of paper shuffling.
You sense him before he makes himself known.
Tuned into him, your body pulsing for him as soon as it realises he is close.
“What do you need?”
His brow arches as you glance up, hand rubbing across his lower face as he looks you up and down. You’ve only just gotten to your desk, meetings and more meetings requiring your attention—the kind where you’re made to take notes and be silent.
He has no papers in his hand and no tie with his shirt. No reason to be hovering around you—needing something from Messina.
Shrugging, he drops his hand to your desk, in finger's proximity if you were to stretch yours out and touch him.
“Javi, there’s nothing for you here this morning—I have no time.”
“None?”
“No, Messina has given me nothing but wonderful tasks today. Things I assume she doesn’t want to do herself. So, she’s on me.”
Smirking, he leans on your desk. “I could be on you, bonita.”
“You not got a C.I. that can itch a spot for you, Peña?” you grin, shooting him a look.
Knowing, remembering the promise the two of you shared.
No more whores. As long as you don’t go on any more dates with fuckers who don’t deserve you.
“Wipe that look off your face—you know you’re the only bonita in my life.”
“And if I don’t wipe my dazzling smile?”
Moving closer, he pretends to shuffle the papers, dropping his voice low, “I’ll stuff your throat.”
You smirk, pursing your lips tightly as you do. “See, now you’re offering me something I want.”
“Fuck…”
“Play silly games, win silly prizes,” you say, standing taller and staring at him. “If I had the time, there’s nothing more that I’d love to do than to sink on my knees for you. But I’d go before Messina comes back and wonders why you’re hovering around me again. She’s on to you.”
Snorting, he wipes his thumb across his bottom lip. “Well, now there’s nothing more that I want than to coat your fucking throat in me, just so you can taste me each time you swallow. Should make your day more interesting, shouldn’t it?” He moves around the desk, your breathing hitching. “Or… fuck. I could bend you over this desk, fill you to the brim with me, have me between your thighs all day. But…”
You nod. “I have places to be, and you have to go.”
“Shit.”
Smirking, you straighten your spine. “If you could, you would.” Your hand grips his forearm before he walks away, eyes digging into him. “Please. Be safe.”
He stares at you, seemingly taken aback by your switch to kindness, before he nods. Fingers sliding over your desk, something simmering in his eyes—something making him hesitate.
“Javi…”
“Just thinking about whether I can risk kissing you.”
Cheeks warming, your lips curl into a smile. One he can pull from you so easily.
“If I do, though. Not sure I’d stop.”
Rolling your lips, you smirk, “Get outta here, Javi. You can make up for it later.”
And he does.
Pushing you back against the door, Javi drives his knee in between your legs to part them. Skirt rising up to your hips, digging in—just the right amount.
Then, there’s his hand snaking its way up your body, digging into your skin before wrapping around your neck, keeping you in place as he slips his tongue past yours.
He’s perfect.
Something you allow yourself to admire and marvel at whenever you can. Someone you get to call yours. A handsome face, with limbs that easily pull you close or hunt you down, pulling you against his lean frame—perfect hair falling in strands over his forehead.
But then, there are his eyes. The pools you’d drown in if he let you, the smile which made you want to forget everything you had planned and make larger.
You sigh into his lips, clutching him close.
He breaks away, ripping his lips from yours as his fingers add light pressure to the hand gripping the base of your neck.
“You treat the others as good as this?”
You like pushing him, teasing. His frame tensing, pausing—his lips sliding down to your ear.
“No more talking from you,” he says, breath brushing your skin, palm gripping your waist.
You smirk, lightly rocking yourself against his thigh—his trousers, thankfully tight and darker in shade, rustling against the thin lace. It’s not enough, but it’s something. A light, tough, friction—something to begin making your breaths a little different.
Something he notices.
But then, when you used to fuck for information, you assume he notices many things people do.
“Oh, fuck me.”
“What’s that?”
His hand tilts your chin up, giving you nowhere else to look other than his eyes.
You consider it but admit defeat. “I said, fuck me.”
He’s gorgeous. That’s all you think as he studies you.
“Don’t have to tell me twice, Bonita.”
He’s aware drinking in the dark is a new low.
Only needing the rain to come down for him to stare out the dirty window, overlooking the base and more grey. The whiskey burns, but not in the way he wants—hopes, needs.
A part of him wants you, almost calling you earlier. Desperate to bury his nose in your neck, bask in the scent that is unequivocally you, that he never truly savours, even if he knows he should.
Since the first moment he got to kiss you, he knew he didn’t deserve you. And as he coats his throat, he realises it’s even less now.
His breath catches, imagining the look of horror when you find out. When everything unravels, leaving him standing in the wake of his choices—knowing he’s kept this from you when he swore to be honest.
The door opens, and Javi knows it’s you.
You’ve never knocked. Not since he first brought you back.
A part of him unravelling as he hears you move further into the room, shifting in his chair, a part of him—that wants to see you—stirs awake. Another part of him curls further in. Somewhat terrified to see you, even with how shit his day has gone.
He glances, expecting to see your usual smirk, fingers already unbuttoning to speed up the limited time you both have. He’s not all wrong—you are charging in, but you’re not smirking, not even smiling.
“If you’re here to make me feel better, I’d save it if I were…”
His head takes in your face as the outside light shines on your face. It captures the haunted look, the twisted expression, watching you slowly walk towards him. Your hands together, looking every bit conflicted—it flowing from you, spreading out as far as it can reach. It all screams that something is eating away at you.
Inhaling, he stands, putting out his cigarette—something uncoiling, weaving its way out of him. Nervousness fills the gaps instead, putting all his nerves on edge. His mind slows to a near stop as he moves closer to you—bridging the gap.
You’re shaking.
It’s all that he focuses on, moving too quickly, closing the gap too soon—spooking you—because you flinch, stepping back. Something you never do. Not with him.
Not since… not since you found out about the brother, about where he’d been.
Chewing his cheek, his hands awkwardly finding his hips as he racks his brain, running the possibilities of what you’ve seen, heard—
It smacks into him at the same time as you murmur his name.
“Peña…”
It comes out broken, strained. Almost cracking through the air rather than sweetly gliding.
The room drops in temperature, and he freezes, hands falling from his hips at your use of his surname. It hits wrong, sounding even worse as it meets his ears.
And then your face changes, the expression twisting, finger pointing as your mouth scrunches, eyes narrowing, and you step back. You don’t even let out a puff of air when your spine connects with the wall, as though you’re so braced nothing could knock anything else from you.
“W-what did you do?”
His feet are stuck to the floor, soles practically glued down. Your eyes shift again, each blink showcasing an entirely different expression—all the more worsened by the tears held back by sheer determination. It hits him—confirming that he’s run out of time, that you know.
“What the fuck have you done, Peña?”
“Don’t… don’t call me that, baby—”
“Que? Your name?”
“Cariño…”
Your back is so straight; he’s unsure how you’ve not snapped from the tension. Blood boiling in his ears, watching you watch him—eyes prickling him, attempting to find a thread to pull.
Not realising he’s already unravelled.
“Tell me you aren’t…”
“Aren’t what?”
He’s meant to spit it, accuse you. But it comes out weak, timid—broken. Then your face makes its final transformation—utter disgust.
“Fuck…”
“Cariño.”
“No. No!”
He flinches. The sound is so sharp from your lips that it slices through the air, forever changing the space. But, it’s the look on your face that’s broken right down the middle. Shards of yourself etched into your eyes, shimmering in a sea of pain that wishes to spill down your cheeks.
Your hand somehow shakily finds the handle, wrenching it open. Before he can stop you, you’re fleeing through it, the sound of your heels punctuating his heart until the wood meets the frame.
Leaving him alone—again.
He hears his watch tick on the desk—tick, tick, tick. Not moving, barely breathing.
“Fuck…” his chest rising and falling hard, all difficult—strained. His fist clenched at his side, slowly unflexing before flexing again. “Fuck.”
Shaking his head, he doesn’t think as he charges, hand on the handle as he rips it open, finding you standing there.
Your eyes are shimmering, swirling in tears he made—fixed and staring at the place he stands.
“I couldn’t… go, even if...”
He nods, slowly reaching his hand out, stretching it until two fingers brush your wrist, watching a tear fall as soon as he does.
“I should. I should go and get away from y… you lied to me. You said there was nothing you were k-keeping...”
He nods again, sliding his fingers around your wrist. Feeling your hurt, your anger. Letting it douse him, rain down on him, hammering their droplets into his muscles and bone.
“Come inside, baby.”
You shake your head, blinking, staring at him as if you don’t recognise him. As if he’s not someone you even know anymore.
“How’d you…”
You bite the inside of your cheek, allowing him instead to pull you into him, all stiff and rigid as you collide with him. Your breath is shaky, trembling. He tries to pull you close, but the gap worsens. Not able to do a damn thing, not able to stop his world from splitting in half—
“Does it matter?”
“No. Suppose it doesn’t.”
He doesn’t push, doesn’t take more than he should. Let his finger draw strokes against your wrist, and his other hand try to pull your hips close. Looking down at you, watching your eyes fluctuate between softening and anger as they glance up at him.
Then you wrench back, coming back to—awakening and realising at once all over again.
They’re so sharp, your eyes—all so full of fury. Both less beauty and more broken. He waits for it, digs his heels in as he waits for your barrage, watching your mouth open, but it never comes.
Instead, you wrench your wrist from him, leaving his fingers empty, clamping around nothing, and then you storm away.
Not looking back as you do. Leaving him with the scent of your perfume and the shame you left in your wake.
You almost wallowed. Pacing in squares and circles, alternating.
At one stage, you’d considered cracking open the bottle you’d bought for him. Drinking until you couldn't see straight. At another stage, when anger had consumed you, you'd almost considered throwing it. If it weren’t for the fact, you’d need to clean it up.
Standing, breath ragged as you thought over what to do next. You turn over the idea of whether to charge back to his room and hit him or shower, hoping the water blends with your tears.
Annoyance simmers in your stomach, thrumming, rapidly hammering against organs and bone. Both at him for lying, but also for not trusting you to help him.
The decision was all taken from you. In the same way, your evening plans were pulled slowly from your grip when the phone rang—cutting through the tension.
You know, no explanation would make you feel better. Nothing to make it better about what he’s been doing. That he’s the leak, that he’s working with them.
But, it isn’t him.
Murphy’s voice cuts through your shaky greeting: can you pick me up from the airport?
You’d turned the radio down once you heard the beginning of a slow song—expecting romance, not able to cope. Your hand already shaking as you turn the key, opening the window and letting the evening air fill the car in the hope of ridding the tension.
Your cheeks feel cold, the ones earlier coated in tears, now tight—dry to the point of cracking. Hand trying to wipe at them once you pull up, spotting the unmistakable Murphy Jacket as he casts his lit cigarette.
If he notices something is wrong, he’s polite enough to keep it to himself. Sliding in the passenger seat.
“Thanks for the ride.”
You nod, watching him pull on his belt—hand brushing over his face. “Happy to be of service—you good?”
Snorting, Murphy, punches the bridge of his nose, his other hand shuffling for his cigarettes. “As good as someone can be having flown to Germany and back.”
“You didn’t ring Peña.”
Steve snorts, “No. I didn’t.”
“Any reason?”
He says nothing, something you keep considering as you pull off—gripping the steering wheel. Sitting in silence until he clears his throat again.
“Those from Javi?” Murphy asks, running his cigarette against his bottom lip, his eyes looking at your neck.
“And why would you think that?”
“Call it a hunch.”
You narrow your eyes. “You know, the longer you stare, the less likely I’m going to turn into your wife.“
“I’m not—fuck, that’s not what I was doing.”
You snatch the cigarette from his lips, taking the longest puff as you stare at him. “Your friend is a dick.”
Murphy smirks. “Yeah. He is.”
You say nothing, driving down the empty street.
“But,” Murphy continues, leaning his elbow on the centre console. “You know he cares.”
“About capturing Escobar.”
“And you.”
Your eyes flick over to him, almost twitching as you slowly pull the half-smoked cigarette from his mouth, placing it on your bottom lip.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t?”
Shaking your head. Gripping the wheel tighter, wishing he'd stop. “You should know, right? That caring doesn’t stitch all your problems together. So.”
Snorting, he tilts his head as you take a drag of his smoke. “You’re right. But you know how I know you both care. You called him Peña. Which means you’re mad at him—otherwise, you call him Javi.” You swallow, keeping your eyes on the road.
“Well, he’s a maddening person.”
Steve says nothing, tapping his heel on the floor. “He told you. Didn’t he?”
“No. I found out,” you spit, turning your head to look at him as you approach a red light. “And fuck you, by the way.”
“What the fuck did I do?”
You chew it, your response. Let it roll against your teeth as you sigh. “Shoulda come to me. Maybe we could—“
“You know who we’re dealing with, right? You know we can’t do shit.”
Javi hasn’t slept.
Not that he thinks he has in weeks.
His mind is too busy, too full of worries and concerns. Sometimes, they’re easier to muffle—silence. You help. You always help.
Except you’re avoiding him. You don’t drink the coffee he makes you; you don’t take one of his cigarettes (even if you keep proclaiming you don’t smoke), instead taking one from Murphy. The times he hears you talk is when you’re responding, but only when needed. And you never meet his eyes.
He expected hell, but it’s different being in it. The fire licks at his skin as he hopes you’ll look up at him. Hoping for scorn-filled eyes than ignorant ones.
It’s why he’s surprised when he notices you approaching him—them. Your feet kicking at the grassy ground, him feeling Murphy patting his back as he stands from the stone steps, murmuring about giving you both privacy.
Javi should have assumed he knew—guessed it, in fact.
Not that it matters.
There’s no winning, no prize for having all the cards.
Not when your eyes are on the floor, chin dipped. Shoulders are sunken, and a thundercloud is over your head as you get closer. Hell, from this position, he’s even sure you’re kicking a small rock along with you, passing Murphy with a movement of your lips—a muttering of words that don’t make it to his ear.
You don’t look up until you’re in front of him, letting them rise from his feet to his seated position to his face. The sun behind you, haloing beautifully around the back of your head.
Both making it hard to see and hard to tear his eyes away from.
“You’re a fucking idiot.”
He snorts, the puff of air escaping with a swirl of smoke. “Cut right to the chase, why don’t you?”
“I asked you to be honest with me.”
He swallows. “You did.”
Groaning, if only to yourself, you slowly sit next to him. His body is all frozen, tight. It has been since you stormed away from him. That single no on repeat. The one that was all broken, higher-pitched. A sound that bounced around his head, using the surfaces of his skull to ensure it never stopped and never silenced.
He wants to move closer. It’s instinct to pull you close to him, allow himself to wrap himself around you until you forgive him. Javi only doesn’t because he’s afraid—a feeling he endures more often these days.
Fear.
He thought he knew what it meant until it all began to unravel until the threads he’d been grasping came undone. And then there was you. You who he’d gotten back thanks to cancelled flights and one singular bed. But, he’s afraid again, scared if he moves too quickly, it could cause you to leave—to walk away from him again.
“What’re you gonna do?”
He lets out a breath, shaking his head. “I don’t even fucking know.”
From the corner of his eye, he watches you nod—eyes fixed ahead, something keeping your attention in the distance. He wants to pull you close, bury his nose in your hair and allow himself to live in the fantasy that he could deserve someone like you.
Javi almost does—the selfish part of him, that need for a win, worming its way along his forearms, spreading to his hands.
And then he feels your hands. It’s slow, soft—passing from your nose to the air as you grip his knee. It slides over his knee, head slowly tilting to rest on his shoulder as you sigh.
“Tell me you began it all before the motel room.”
He swallows before resting his chin on your head. “Yeah, I did.”
Snuggling closer, he hears you lick your lips. “Okay, good.”
He reels. “Okay?”
It comes out sharper. Almost spitting it out. All less of a whisper like before and something carnal that shoots out like a flame.
So much so it makes your head jolt and your eyes land on his. For a moment, he’s utterly fucking breathless. All the air knocked from his lungs at the sight of you—of how you’re looking at him.
It makes him think of the first time he noticed you, how your eyes caught his attention. The way they dig into him, how they’re made up of so many shades—just widening at the view on some hilltop:
I know it’s covered in Narcos, but fuck is this place pretty.
It had made his lips twitch, your bewilderment until you landed your irises on him—knocking the wind from his lungs.
Now, though, it’s eclipsed that memory.
By the way, you’re looking at him with adoration—with worry that perfectly blends with… love.
“You can’t… be okay with this? Bonita—I am working—“
“I know that,” you snap, words bristled with harsher edges. “I know what you’ve done, what you’re doing—what you're likely about to do. I also know…”
“Know what?”
Pulling your eyes from him, your jaw tightens, your hand remaining on his knee. “That you are a good person. Javi, you’re such a good person—who wants to do good. Who has gotten so fucking blindsided they’ve made a shitty choice in the hope of doing that good. And now, I’m guessing someone knows, and you’re stuck between a rock and a knife, unable to get out.
“I also know you are an idiot, a stupidly handsome one—who made a selfish decision, but...”
He snorts, shaking his head.
Good person.
Unsure how you can say that. How can you say it to him with so much earnestness? Especially when a man and his son are dead. When he has lied to you. When there are bodies building, piling. Countless more added to it. The destruction all mounting, almost crushing him as much as it is Colombia.
“Look at me,” you whisper, and he doesn’t want to.
Doesn’t feel worthy to.
But your fingers dig into his chin, tilting him all the same—vision suddenly full of only you. Beautiful, stunning you.
“You called me yours. Am I still yours?”
He presses his palm into his forehead, nursing whatever was beginning to throb, wanting to do right and spare you.
“Don’t be selfless,” you add. “Do you… do you still want me?”
“I thought I lost you.”
Shaking your head, you look at him, sliding your fingers up his jawline to cup his cheek. “You are the biggest idiot, Javier Peña. But, I’m all in. Mess and all. But, are you all in?”
“Baby, being all in means…”
His words trail off, stolen—all by a raised brow and slide of your smile. A knowing one. A do-you-think-I’m-an-idiot smile.
A shuddering breath escapes his lungs. Realising that all the things he’s concocted about how you’d react, aren’t happening.
You’re here.
Your touch on his cheek, eyes in his soul.
“Javi. Are you all fucking in, or not?”
Pinning you with a stare, watching your eyes flick from one eye to the next.
All of the shoved-down emotions rising to the surface, sitting on the top, smothering his hand over yours, gripping your fingers against his knee. A gesture, a touch.
But it’s not an answer.
He knows that. Feeling his eyes stinging, watching you as you watch him, realising he doesn’t have the words, like he does in his dreams.
All his answers rest on his tongue—not caring who sees as he captures your lips to tell them you. He pulls you as close as two bodies sitting will allow. Feeling yours move with his, an array of words dying on both of your tongues as the sun looks down.
Things standing still, all untouched and unfractured.
A piece of perfect, one right decision, in a storm of mistakes.
#javier peña x reader#javier peña x you#javi peña x reader#javi peña x you#javi peña x f!reader#javier peña narcos#javier peña#javier pena x reader#javier pena x you#javier pena#narcos x reader#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal x reader#javier peña fanfiction#javi peña fanfiction#javi peña narcos#narcos javier x reader#narcos javier#narcos fic#pedro pascal characters
433 notes
·
View notes
Note
lmao you're so angry that you know shit about radfem so made an entire fucking essay of actually... PROVING IT??? of made up facts to make radfems look like a boogieman liberals wants us to make 😂 it's so pathetic omg, ok step by step:
1)lol what? radfem is about WOMEN, woman's safety, it doesn't matter who exactly was the abuser, what matters is to help female victim because it a movement about WOMEN. Take your head out of your ass.
2) Laetitia Ky, Artė, any south Korean radfem cuz any other type of feminisms won't work there hundreds of woc radfem here just 🗿
3) lol what? did you just imagined it yourself lol?? i'll repeat, radfem is about women well being, it doesn't matter who exactly was the abuser, what matters is to help female victim because it a movement about WOMEN not victims of abuse. and it just so happened that men commit about 90% of abuse, that's a statistic you can google go educate yourself
4) didn't libfem tumbler came out with this bs? it's the same labeling woman, putting them into unneeded categories that liberals like so much? i'll repeat, radfem is about women well being which means no separation from one another and no judgment especially about your sexuality. Take your head out of your ass.
5) ohhh yess we all just haaaaate ace.... no lmao. no one gives a shit, maximum is questioning the label itself cuz it's pointless, your asexuality is a low libido. no radfem gives a shit.
6) lmao where do you take this shit? 😂 can i take your narco dealer's number? also, oh what's this? several public researches that proves that TIMs exhibit a male-type pattern of criminality? rapes in prisons where trans women were sent? hundreds of assaults in public restrooms??? wow shocking!
7) you don't need to be saved, some therapy, cuz i doubt you'd like to be beaten/choked/ect in any other circumstances. another question does it not bother you that your partner would enjoy "playfully" hurting you? in short it's called coping mechanism to deal with abuse and trauma, go educate yourself
8) yeah for some reason we don't support child trafficking, rapes, murders, pedophilia and etc. that comes with prostitution. go watch interviews with those who escaped prostitution, they all hated it. they were abused and traumatized. Take your head out of your ass.
9) hun, we don't hate you we pity you at worst. it's not our job too look out for men, it FEMENISM it's about WOMEN and only WOMEN. adult human female, comprende?
and listen i may not be the best person in the world but at least i'm not spending my life chronically online writing incest fics ;)
one again, pull your head out of your ass and educate yourself, here's some masterpost https://manlarp.tumblr.com/post/667874370724691968/accessible-radfem-ideology-masterpost bye bye :)
Saying "WE ARE ALL ABOUT WOMEN" doesn't change shit. You once again proved my point by saying that my experience with radfems spewing out abuse apologism towards me when they thought I was being abused didn't happen based on nothing but your favorite go-to defensive line. YOU didn't see it thefore it didn't happen to ME. Way to prove you guys don't try to silence women who disagree with you by trying to exactly that.
And yeah, I know there are woc of who are TERFs. There are also women who are even more misonygistic than some men. There are plenty of slavic countries where nazism is still a big thing even though Hitler hated slavs. Self-hating idiots have existed and always will. Doesn't change the fact that you fuckers are racist all the damn time.
"We don't care if people are ace, we don't devide women" literally a quick search will show that you guys do. A bunch of the anti-ace discourse was literally INVENTED by radfems, something they are very proud to admit. And plenty of queer radfems are biphobic all the fucking time, something I, a bisexual woman, have to put up with every single time one of your friends comes bother me. Go lie to someone else, bitch.
"Those who ESCAPED prostitution hated it" Yes, people tend to hate things they were forced to do. Doesn't change the fact that you guys are more concerned with making women who WANT to do sex work be labelled as criminals than with punishing human traffickers.
And once again, we have you being all condescending. "Let ME tell you what YOU want. Let ME tell you what makes YOU feel safe." And gotta love how you heard me say I'm kinky and immediately assumed I'm submissive, instead of a dominant or a switch. And then of course you have to go for the slut shaming of "You write kinky porn therefore you are automatically wrong."
"FEMINISM IS ONLY ABOUT WOMEN" Which is why it is dying. If your movement cannot accept that the world isn't black and white, and that societal hierarchies are much more complicated than just Group A is always the all powerful one and Group B always gets screwed over, it WILL fail because it will be ignoring real problems for the sake of keeping a narrative alive. Which is why nobody fucking likes radfems, and the world would be better off if you idiots were gone.
I don't need to read your bullshit, because you idiots will scream your nonsense at me all the time, like you just did. And not once have any of you ever said a single word that was worth listening.
Don't bother sending me more asks, I'll just block you. Go larp with your fellow radfems about every single woman who has a problem with you guys is "brainwashed by the patriarchy" because there's no way you guys could EVER be the problem and that your "activism" is as shallow, stupid and fake as you are.
53 notes
·
View notes
Text
—your girlfriend wants to be mine
pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader
requested by anon!! srry this took forever!
a/n: so, i accidentally deleted the request but tried to write most of what I remembered and also took my own spin!
word count: 1.9k
content: cheating, office flirting, narcos spoilers, cursing
summary: you work with Javi and catch feelings, even tho you’re taken
Life as a DEA agent in Colombia had its ups and downs, mostly its downs, but having Steve and Javi as your partners helped make it tolerable. When you almost wanted to give up, they were there to remind you why you were added onto the chase in the first place.
Your boyfriend, of course, used to offer you emotional support but lately, things haven't been the same. You've gotten so caught up in work, you couldn't catch a break. And it didn't help that he was also a workaholic.
With that being said, you two barely see each other.
You were at the office, overlooking some of the files from last night. Steve said he would stay behind and look at them, but you offered instead because you knew he had Connie and Olivia to get home to.
Javi also offered to stay, and you both ended up pulling an all-nighter or at least an attempted one before you fell asleep three hours in.
You woke up on your desk and immediately got back to work before realizing it was already morning.
"Javi, did we even get anything done?!" you asked exasperatedly.
"Yes, relax, I looked through a few when you fell asleep." he replied nonchalantly as he sipped his morning coffee.
"And you didn't think to wake me up?" you huffed, annoyed.
"I didn't wanna disturb the princessa’s beauty sleep." he smirked.
You rolled your eyes at the nickname, closed the folders, and put them away your bottom cabinet.
"Don't call me that, cabron."
"Woah, wait! I'm the cabron for letting you get some sleep?" he feigned offense.
“Just shut up!” you couldn’t take it if he called you anything else.
Javi just smiled and went back to his desk to look over stuff. The man was completely smitten by you. Not that you knew though, you were oblivious to the coy remarks he’d let slip.
He wasn’t looking to try anything; he knew you had someone else.
But, whenever you got up to do something, you noticed how his eyes always followed you. Or, when you two and Steve were talking, how his arms or hands would brush over yours. How he always opened doors for you and made sure you got home safely.
He cared for you, that was obvious. But you thought of him as good friend and partner.
You had gotten used to the lighthearted flirting between you two. It was all fun and games, nothing serious right?
On second thought, you were starting to feel some sort of internal conflict. At first, you could admit Javi was an attractive guy. It stopped there though; you weren’t interested of course.
With time, not only did you look forward to work because you wanted to catch that fucker, Escobar, you looked forward to seeing him too.
It all felt so wrong, how could you get excited to see another man? No, you had to shut those feelings down. You had to push them away as far as you could.
Even so, you cared deeply about the man you were with. You could not love both.
You didn’t want to think about him like that, he’s your friend and an amazing partner. You should only see him that way. Plus, it’s unfair to your boyfriend and you know Javi’s one to sleep around; it’s how he gets his intel.
When the workday was over, you packed your bag and made sure you left nothing behind on your desk. Steve and Javi were going to check out a lead from a call they had received earlier, Steve suggested you go home this time.
“You sure I shouldn’t come along?” you asked again.
“We’ll be fine, you look like you could use some sleep.” Steve assured you.
“Yeah, take this night off. Busy day tomorrow.” Javi added.
With that, you went home to an empty apartment. It had been a while since you last came home this early. You thought you could probably cook dinner for you guys tonight.
You released a tired sigh as you kicked your boots off and hung your purse. As you were about to walk into the kitchen, you heard a woman laughing along with an inaudible male voice.
You froze in place, trying to figure out if it was actually him or someone else. Her voice sounded too young to be the old lady next door.
The sound was quickly nearing, the footsteps too. Yeah, it was him.
You could hear the jingle of his keys and him trying to get in. You panicked, decided to hide last minute behind the kitchen island. It faced the door sideways; he wouldn’t be able to see you.
“You sure she won’t be home soon? What if she comes in out of nowhere?” the woman spoke.
Her voice sounded familiar, had to be someone from the office of course.
“No, she always works late. Sometimes doesn’t even come home."
You mentally rolled your eyes. So, this is what he does...
What could you have expected, you're always busy with work. How could you focus on this relationship? It was bound to happen but to go find some other woman? Without manning up and ending things with you first?
You stood up furiously and watched as he became aware of your presence.
He didn't even look ashamed, like he had an explanation on hand.
"Do you have nothing to say for yourself? Huh?" you shouted in anger.
"It's not like you're ever here anyway! I got tired of your shit and found myself a real woman." He spat with his hand on the other woman's waist.
You bit your tongue before you could ask what exactly constitutes as a real woman in his eyes because you knew this wasn't about her. It was about this douchebag.
"Well, good for you." you clapped sarcastically.
"Here," you stomped up to him and threw the keys at his face.
"The place is yours and I hope this real woman can pay most of the bills because let's face it, you don't make jack."
He held the other woman closer and sneered at you.
You left knowing his machismo pride was secretly hurt, no way he was making good pay at that corporate job.
You also left without the sadness hitting you, but it did once you hopped into the car and started driving to Steve's place. You knew Connie would let you stay the night; she's that understanding.
You tried to convince yourself it was fine. Things were better this way. There was no time to focus on a boyfriend when you had to a criminal.
Over the course of the next few days, your attitude at work hadn't been the best and Javi could see that.
"Everything alright, chiquita?" he asked with his brow raised.
You shook your head and chuckled at the nickname.
"I'm fine, Javier." you attempted to give a convincing smile.
"No Javi? Okay, seriously, what's wrong?" he asked once again, leaned against his desk with his arms crossed.
"I broke up with Norman, okay?" you sighed.
"I thought I would feel way better than this considering the bastard cheated on me but I kind of mess having someone." you were honest and gave a sad smile this time.
Javi was hollering in his head; no other good news could top this! The man was ecstatic. You were finally a free woman that could be his, if he'd ever be man enough to confess.
"I'm sorry to hear that." he said with an appreciated amount of sincereness.
From that point onward, work had been all over the place with the Medellín cartel making headlines for their attacks once again.
Fortunately, for you guys though, Blackie was caught and brought in for Steve and Javi to interrogate. This lead straight to getting intel on La Quica, and for that there had to be a celebration.
While Javier had offered to go for drinks, the ambassador announced a dinner party to celebrate.
You had to admit, formal gatherings such as those dinners had always made you nervous, especially now since you had no plus one.
You decided to go nonetheless and went dress shopping with Connie. You picked out a nice silk dress and knew you were going to make one hell of a show with it.
You were right, the woman Norman took home that night did work in the office. She was a receptionist so you knew she had to be invited and would probably bring him along.
Even if you convinced yourself, you were done caring about Norman, you still wanted to show him how good you looked. Make him feel regret in some way.
It had reached dusk and the nightlife in Colombia was alive, however you weren't partying at any club tonight. The dinner was being held at some luxury hotel that had taken the Taxi driver way too long to reach.
Security was high of course and you were let in once you showed your office ID.
Chatter was everywhere and you could feel a few stares as you walked into the huge space.
It's a shock you couldn't feel Javi's gaze, how his eyes could not peel themselves off your figure. He thought you looked absolutely ravishing.
You found your way to the bar where the gang was and greeted Connie with a hug and kiss on the cheek before doing the same to Steve and then, Javi.
He was speechless, you were too beautiful.
He leaned into the bar and ordered, "two margaritas, please."
"A la orden, señor!" yes, sir!
He turned back to you and had to stop himself from gawking. Had to play it cool.
"You look gorgeous, as usual." he gave you that smirk.
Your heart fluttered a bit. Now you were free to feel what you felt for Javi all this time, God, he was handsome.
You realized he was actually wearing a suit and not just jeans with a biker jacket. Now, this was a sight to see.
The thought made you giggle and made him wonder what you found to be so funny.
"What're you laughing at? This not cute enough for you?" he furrowed his brows.
You laughed again, "No, you look pretty cute. Pretty sexy actually." you flirted, feeling a sudden wave of boldness.
He let out a chuckle and then the bartender slid the margaritas.
Javi watched as you took a few sips, he took in your form and your perfumed scent. You were only a couple inches apart and both struggling to maintain composure in each other's presence.
Even though he was experienced, it's only so often he falls in love with someone like you.
After one too many drinks, you two conversed and engaged in flirtatious combat for most of the night, never losing eye contact. However, you did once you looked over and meet eyes with your ex.
He was chatting with a group of men and women at a round booth, had his girl on his lap.
You quickly looked back at Javi and grabbed him by the collar. You wanted this; you knew he wanted this too.
You smashed your lips against his and gave him the most beguiling kiss a man could ask for; it was fiery and impatient. You longed for this.
"Fuck, hermosa." he cursed before pressing against you and giving you an even hungrier kiss.
He held you closer by placing a hand on your lower back and the other brushing over your exposed back. You grinned into the kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck.
"Let's get out of here." you said breathlessly.
#javier peña x fem!reader#javier pena#javier peña#javier pena narcos#javier peña narcos#reader included#reader insert#x reader#narcos#narcos fic#narcos fanfiction#narcos imagine#javi peña#romantic#tension#drama#javier peña x female reader#x fem!reader#x female reader#agent peña#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal x reader
117 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Cybers
JAVIER PEÑA X FEM READER
Summary - Javier and you had been working together to catch one of the CIA’s most wanted. The Cybers. The DEA and CIA came to an agreement, to swap over information about each departments most wanted.
You plan a mission to catch your most wanted man, but can you trust the information you’d been given? Or does the DEA have a hidden agenda?
Warnings - Mention of räpe, violence, blood, guns, swearing, kissing
Word count- 3k +
Notes- I am so freaking proud of this one! If this one takes off I will maybe make a part 2 for my lovies but y’all gotta lemme know what ya thank. Pls enjoy
———
You stir in your sleep, hearing the dreaded sound of Javier’s stupid alarm ringing.
“Will you turn that god damn thing of Javi! I don’t have to get up for another five minutes.” You groan, using Javi’s once used pillow to cover your face.
Javi chuckles, buttoning up his plumb shirt and sliding his yellow aviators into the v neck. “Baby, it’s nearly six. You need to get up.”
A inhuman sound comes from your throat. You throw the covers off you in protest and head to the bathroom to shower.
You exit the bathroom and quickly change into your mission clothes.
Today was the big day. A mission you’d be planning for months. The time had come to catch Fabio Salvador. The man on the CIA’s most wanted list for the last five years.
And you were going to be the one to catch him. You. The only woman in the CIA division in the American Embassy in Colombia.
The countless nights of fishing for intel, hanging around in dirty bars waiting for the men on your watchlist to hit on you and get them drunk enough to spill their dirty secrets has finally paid off.
Salvador had been planning an attack on JFK airport for months. You and the other CIA agents had heard whispers at first, and none of you belived that he would try something so reckless.
He’d been a wanted man for a while, planning cyber attacks all over America, but to go as far as trying to blow up an airport, that was a new and unbelievable low for the wanted man. And it’d been your job to kill the fucker before he got the chance.
How could he fund something like this? You’d always wondered, since he’d hack into small banks around the US and steal small amounts of money to fund his dealings in Colombia. But where was he getting this cash from?
The Narcos.
Pablo Escobar had an interest in taking down the US since the introduction of extradition. And he thought the only way of getting back without raising suspicion on himself, he’d pay someone else to do it.
The DEA had caught wind of some strange transactions going on between the narcos and the cybers; Salvador’s crew. And since you were the lead in the operation for catching Salvador for the last five years, they came to you for intel and to offer their help.
That’s how you met Javier. You’d heard of him from his office antics, wanting to take a peak at the man behind the rumours. And boy, when you did get a peak, it was a mouth watering one indeed.
The CIA heads and DEA heads all met in the board room of the Embassy to discuss their next move. Since you’d been running the show, the Ambassador let you take the lead.
You’d shared whatever intel there was to the DEA and they to you. You got some good tips, but while presenting your intel, your eyes kept wandering and your thoughts also. The wandering eyes kept landing on Peña. He couldn’t take his eyes of your sweet lips. He thought about all the dirty things he wanted to do to you on the large table.
And later he did those things.
You thought it was a one time thing, but once turned into thirty times. And eventually, your feelings for one another grew. And five years later, you were living together in your shared apartment, with the love of your life.
You buttoned up your white, short sleeved shirt and tucked your gun into the waist band of your jeans. The smell of coffee and burning toast brought your attention to the kitchen. Where javi had made a failed attempt at breakfast before work.
“Uh, javi?” You said, looking at him with a raised brow.
He spun around to face you, his eyes wandering up and down your body. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip with hunger, hoping to get a quick work out session in before you both had to leave.
“The toast?” You said, the smell of the toast burning becoming stronger.
“Shit!” He shouted, turning off the appliance and throwing the toast into the bin.
You chuckled and walked around to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. “You are a disaster with breakfast, but thank you for trying honey.”
“I just wanted to make the start of your day special. Since the end will be amazing, I wanted the start to be to.” He pouted with a sad look in his eyes.
You traced the pad of your thumb over the crease that sat in between his brows. “It’s always an amazing morning just being with you.”
He rolled his eyes and kissed your forehead. “Now, time for a work check!” He exclaimed, clapping his hands together.
You took a few steps back and put your hands on your hips; ready to answer his checklist.
“Gun?”
“Check!” You answered.
“Badge?”
“Check!”
“Vest?”
“Ch-not check!” You shouted, running into the bedroom to grab your bullet proof vest.
“Now that is one of the most important things on the check list and you’ve forgot!” You heard him shout while you scrambled for your vest.
You returned to the kitchen with your vest strapped to your chest. “Vest check!” You said with a beaming smile
Javier grins, thinking to himself, how the hell did I get so lucky?
You thought the same. How on earth you could tie down such a fine man. A man who had sworn off relationships years ago, yet here he is in the kitchen, performing yours and his daily checklist before going to work.
Javi cups your face giving your cheeks a light squeeze. “Don’t you don’t go dying and come home to me.” He says like every morning before work.
“Don’t you go dying and come home to me.” You repeat, leaning into him for an embrace.
This was a part of your morning routine. Wake up, complete the work checklist, and say the nine worded line to each other and head off to work.
Even thought you both were careful in every single way in both of your jobs, the thought always lingered whenever you’d go on missions apart from each other.
The DEA and the CIA are completely different departments, so when one of you had a mission, the other was anxious all day until the other arrived home in more or less one piece.
——-
You and Javi arrived at the Embassy and gave each other a quick kiss. He was the nervous Nelly today. He knew how important this mission was for you. You’d be planning it for months, and thankfully the pieces finally came together when one of Javi’s old informants came forward with some information of Salvador’s wear abouts today.
Javi passed that information to you in a heartbeat, knowing that it would put the final piece of the puzzle together and finally catch the fucker who’d taken up five long years of your life.
He’s thankful in a sadistic way. Because without Salavador, he never would have met you. If Escobar didn’t approach the Cybers, the CIA and DEA would never have worked together. And for that he is thankful that you came into his life.
This mornings work had to be done quick, as Salvador’s location was time dependant. If you left to early, suspicion would rise. If you left too late, you would have missed him.
You’d planned everything accordingly. Even making sure you had added some extra time incase Javi wanted to get abit frisky before leaving for work. Thankfully he didn’t, so you have an extra ten minutes to de brief the team for the day.
Mendez, Kelly, Gilberto and Fernandez were yours guys today. A small team but a very big mission. You took the agents that you could trust, who had worked closely with you in catching members of the Cybers.
“Ok boys, are we ready to roll out in five?” You slam your palms against the table.
The four men sit around your office table, with excited looks on their faces. They all chant in unison.
“Have a smoke, take a piss or do whatever you boys do. But I want you buy those cars in five. Let’s go and catch these fuckers!” You clap, sending the boys out of your office.
You do your own little work check, quietly saying to yourself the checklist. Once your done, you take a deep breath in. Your eyes wander to the board full of information on the Cybers, with a large bullseye target surrounding the picture of Salavador at the top of the board.
You walk over to it, take the red marker pen and draw an ‘X’ across his picture. “It’s time for you to die, you piece of shit.” You mutter, popping the cap back onto the marker and smiling.
——
From the information provided, Salavador should be arriving at any moment. The cars you and your team drove down in have been parked down the street, close enough for a quick get away if things go south.
You and your team get into position, taking cover behind a half broken brick wall. You give silent instructions to your ground team, having word from Kelly who was scoping the place out from the roof that Salavador has arrived.
The meeting is taking place in a run down brothel, still with active hookers, but this place is reserved for the elite of the gangs. Especially the Cybers.
You peak your head slowly out from behind the wall and catch sight of the back of Salvador’s head. You’ve seen the man twice in real life, and each time he’s managed to slip through your fingers.
Not this fucking time!
He entered the building, and now was your chance to strike. You were armed with silencers. You thought this was the best way to go, as the location Salavador picked, is known as a Narcos area, so any sound of gun shots will trigger any Narcos in the area.
Checking your six’s, you signal two of your men to stay behind and keep watch, only to move once you’ve given the clear from near the entrance.
You quickly run over to the door, your back pressed against the wall of the entrance. You silently signal Mendez to head inside first, while you waited to see if any unwanted arrivals turn up and blow your mission.
Mendez heads into the building, keeping his gun close to his chest, ready to fire at will.
This wasn’t an arresting type of mission. This was a kill mission. It didn’t matter who got shot in the process, as long as Salvador was killed. That’s all you cared about.
A few moments went by and you heard nothing.
You took it as a sign to signal the other two men to take over your position while you head inside to investigate.
“You two stand here. If you hear anything going on inside that involves gun shots, get the fuck out of hear. I don’t want any of you tangled up in Narcos business you understand?” You tell your boys with a hard look on your face.
They nodded and held their positions by the door, eyes set into hawk mode looking for any suspicious activity.
You push the door open slightly, and slip inside, gun at the ready. The hallway is damp and dirty, with empty bottles and bags of white powder scattered everywhere. The first room you scope out has nothing. The second room, a young girl lies on a dirty mattress, passed out.
After you cleared out downstairs, you head up the creaky stairs, trying to be quiet. There’s faint music coming from down the hall that just happens to be the room where the door is closed.
“Mendez!” You whisper shout, hoping he’s just swooping another room.
Nothing.
You carry on down the hall until you reach the closed room. You reach for the door handle, but a large hand wraps around your mouth and throat, making you drop your gun and shout.
“Ahhh, my little Princess has finally decided to come and see me.” A deep, groggy voice whispers in your ear.
Salavdor.
His cold hand wraps around your throat tighter and his hand around your mouth gets tighter. You try and kick your back legs to hurt him, but it’s no luck. He drags you backwards into an empty room and throws you against the floor, your head hitting the dirty wooden floorboards.
Salavdor stalks over to you and give you a swift and harsh kick to the stomach. “Did you honestly think you could catch me!” He shouts. “You thought you could walk into my brothel and kill me! Ha! You are one stupid girl.”
He kicks you in the stomach again and you curl up and groan, the pain getting increasingly worse. He leans down to your level and takes out a pocket knife, using the tip to push your hair back from your face.
“Now, now, what are we going to do with you eh?” He taunts, running the knife along your jaw, making small cuts the further down he gets.
————-
The heat from the fire of the brothel is hot. It’s slowing you down but you have to keep running. Your legs grow weaker every stride that you take, but you can’t stop.
They’ll find you, and they’ll kill you.
Hot, red blood seeps from your forehead down to the base of your neck. It leaks from your stomach and legs but you have to keep pushing. This neighbour hood is bad enough. If they see an injuried cop, you will be like a play toy to them.
You run, and run until your vision gets blurry.
Just a little bit longer
The flesh wound from the bullet you dodged has left your forearm open and just waiting for an infection. The stinging pain would normally send someone into shock, but your main concern is getting home.
You don’t care if you die at home, you just need to be off these streets. What a Cyber or Narcos would do to get their hands on a US agents dead body. They’d have a fucking field day.
The stairs to your apartment are rough, each stair feeling like a flight of them. Eventually, you make it, the spare key still being under the door mat, you let yourself in.
“What the fuck!” You hear Javiers faint voice shout from somewhere.
You drop to your knees and hit your back against the door. Your eyes start to roll to the back of your head, but a soft hand on your cheek brings you back.
With what little strength you have, you smack the hand away and slowly stand up. “Don’t touch me.” You say quietly. The smoke in your lugs from the fire has taken up a lot of room in your lungs.
“You need to get to the hospital baby, what the hell happened! we need to go now!” Javier shouts, ushering you to the door.
You slam your hands against his chest, the move sending you back a few steps but you manage to balance yourself.
“You happened!” You point at him, tears forming in your eyes.
Javier looks confused, and heartbroken. You have cuts from head to toe from where they butchered you. The flesh wound from the bullet ripped into the skin on your forearm. You have bruises and red marks on every inch of your skin.
He just wants to kiss them all better for you, but he will do that once he gets you to the hospital.
“Baby, let’s go.” He pushes, taking gentle steps towards you.
“It was you! Your fucking bad information from your stupid fucking whore that got my whole team killed and almost me!” You scream at him, taking out the pocket knife you somehow held onto in your pocket and pointing it at him.
He steps back, holding his hands up in defence.
“Whoa, what are you doing! What the hell are you talking about!” He says, worry in his voice.
“You need to get to the hospital! Look at you! You’re covered in stab wounds and you’ve been shot for fucks sake! We need to go now! Put the fucking knife down would you and get in the car!” He shouts.
“You wanna know what I’m talking about huh?” You say, stepping closer to Javier, waving the knife around as you speak.
“Im talking about the fact that the Salavdor meeting was a set up to kill me and my team. That your silly informant gave you dud information. She got paid by Salavdor to feed you that info to feed to me. So yeah, this is your fault Javier. I got stabbed, shot at, hell, nearly almost raped and burned alive because you trusted some skank.” You cant hold back the tears any longer.
The stress of what’s unfolded in the last 7 hours has taken a toll on your body. The fighting for your life, the torture, escaping a burning building, watching your team be killed right in front of you. It’s all too much for one person to handle. The adrenaline releases from your body, the pain now taking over.
You drop to the floor and everything goes black.
————
#javierpena#javier pena x reader#javier pena x y/n#pedro x reader#pedro pascal#narcos#pedro pascal x reader
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
Just a random rant about interpretation of story.
So I watched a review of Earthbound once and remembered that they kind of flanderized a take on the USA by Ness' interactions with police as definitely Japanese political commentary.
They went on to talk as if it was hard biting social commentary on how violent and hateful American police and police in general are, beating up a child and all. And.. no. I don't agree with this interpretation.
"Well that's because you're white, Ram."
No. Fuck you.
Earthbound is inherently young masculine fantasy. You can argue this, but you know shonen and shojo exist in Japanese nomenclature and as a somewhat more traditional society with more gender binarism prevalent in it these days, and ANY of you FUCKERS that has ever even DARED to use the phrase, "Maaaaale Gaaaaaze" unironically, knows Mother 2/Earthbound is practically just pre-teen boy imagination personified.
It has everything a young boy dreams of randomly when just walking around. Fucking aliens that come down to attack you for no reason. Fighting cultists and hate groups and gangs and gang leaders and junk-tech ROBOTS. And like something out of an adventure serial like Baki the Grappler, getting led into a back room to group-fight a bunch of corrupt cops on some 90s edgy radical shit.
What sort of political message is it when you go into the forest and a random tree attacks you, lights itself on fire and fucking explodes, huh? Is that social commentary on logging or some shit? No. It's just a damned enemy in a quirky RPG.
I don't appreciate seeing some mouthbreather unironically treat the scene as if, "at the time that was on most peoples minds." No, it wasn't. There were people that said, "ACAB" in those days, yes. They were annoying then, they're annoying now. "ACAB" didn't fall out of the fucking sky, it is, was, and has always been affiliated with anarcho-socialism or anarcho-communism and leftist intellectualism. The kind that subscribes to the notion that everything is locked out of their reach to control and direct because it's corrupt and swarmed by hostile populations that don't think the way they do. "ACAB" philosophy only ever bubbles to the surface when society is experiencing a resurgence of radical far-leftism, and it's usually short lived, contingent on a whole generation previously unfamiliar with hard-leftism.. rapidly learning why it paints things with such broad brushes or occassionally myopic surgical narrow band brushes, depending on what things they want to avoid or pretend don't exist in their formulas and algorithms of analysis.
ACAB is their way of incriminating society as inherently white supremacist and, even without that niggling element, inherently oppressive because it's not socialist, and therefore, "unjust." You ask them why they have a problem with police, you'll hear apologistic shit about how, "prisons shouldn't exist," or how "social workers could fix everything!" or, "the reason people steal isn't because they want free shit at other peoples expenses, it's because they're hungwy! :3" when they know god damned well that isn't true. They just have an ideological crimp in their heads that blinds them to seeing those criminals as they are, and justify their behavior by creating this fallacious image of them in their heads where they're victims of society, not active participants in society's befoulment.
Their chosen method of skirting around society and its rules is primarily the black market, for drugs. As well as guns. Police intrude upon illegal narcotics dealing and selling, this affects domestic would-be guerilla forces and even ethnoseparatist groups using narco-dollars to finance initiatives to make separatist towns where their demographic is supreme, therefore, they fucking hate police. No different from when the FEDs bust neo-nazi narcotics dealers and are left screaming and squealing obscenities about Jewish people. They certainly hate Jewish people, and this country and its laws and the institutions of law and order do certainly stop ethno-supremacists from skirting the law to sell untaxed products that ultimately just damage the population, but that doesn't mean their conspiracy theorism about a grand overarching oppressor class exists. And it's no different when the ACABers subscribe to the idea we live in a white supremacy that uses the police as a thug force to prop up white supremacism.
There can be non-ACAB reasons for having police as enemies in fucking videogames. They can be mind controlled by otherworldly entities and it can be a massive change from the way they normally work, for example. A plot device that features police as opponents in pulp fiction and fantasy and sci-fi stories is NOT like finding a layer of sediment in a mineral layer and determining the composition of the region's soil, or its equivalent in culture.
And I find this interpretation to have as much weight that we 90s kids all thought police were inherently wrong or corrupt, as the Noah's Ark theme park somehow proves "most Americans" are bible literalists or something. And reporting as such as if it were true is very disingenuous and slanted.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Narcos October | Day 3
Prompt challenge by narcosfandomdiscord 💜
Prompt 1 of 2
Masterlist of my works so far
I was so torn about this…but finally settled on something. I have many favorite episodes. But because I’ve been losing my shit about it again recently, I have to go with Salva El Tigre 2.1
Why it’s important to me? God, where do I start????? I mean, what is there not to love???? This episode gave us so much! It’s so layered and so many stores are being told, ending, and beginning. Dynamics are shifting, changing, being challenged it’s just - ugh it’s so fucking good! There is so much said but 10x as much without words, with body language, with glances.
Essay continues below…
Side note: as a writer, it inspired 2 fics of mine: Sin (complete, Miguel, Pacho, f reader) and The Past, The Present (Miguel, Benjamin , f reader, on hiatus but will come back).
Back to the prompt: It’s the episode that keeps giving,👏🏾 every 👏🏾damn 👏🏾 rewatch. Pacho’s entrance???? GOLD! The whole damn scene in the church???? GOLD! All that delicious tension???? The contrast of the party & the crews kidnapping mission… chilling ass Verdin (but why was he - redacted to save my soul)
It’s a 10/10 for me.
It features some of my fav songs like small timeboy and edge of seventeen…I might be missing songs, but this is the best I could do, with what I could find…
✨
Scene: Amado arrives at party - Pericolo by Vichenzo Orri
If this is the song, it’s playing a bit softly in the background, giving that upbeat party vibe yet leaving space for the little convos & greetings to happen. I think it’s a good opening tune without over powering the scene.
✨
Scene: Amado at party, after Guero convo - Small town boy by Bronski Beat
I love this song. We see more of the party now, while being at Amado’s back. It pulls us in. The opening notes of that song work nicely, like anticipation growing , pulsing (in a fun non scary way) with each step deeper into the scene, then officially bringing us in the heart of it (as we follow Amado, Cochi, and Chapo in). Plus it’s so fun, how can someone not love this song! I dance whenever I hear it, yes on rewatches too! Even if it’s just in my seat.
✨
Scene: Miguel joins the party- Edge of Seventeen by Stevie Nicks
Let me start by saying, this fucker inside that big house by himself, as the party rages on, was great. It said so much without words, and I think, was such a good glimpse into his mind & mood. So once he did finally emerge, it had to be a good song, that’s a given. All his scenes in this episode have this heavy feel to them, so coming out to this song adds this lightness, like a projection of what the party should feel like. What it’s presenting as.
I also can’t help but think about how alone asshole (Miguel) is and how he isolated himself so much with his decisions, actions and treatment of others. Yeah that place is full, but that man don’t have no friends (his fault). And these lyrics feel so fitting for my train of thought m “Well, then suddenly there was no one - Left standing in the hall, yeah, yeah” like sure, he comes out like a king, on this grand staircase, everyone is clapping, all these people to greet him - buts it’s not real.
Also, I think Stevie once spoke (in some interview) about the death themes in the song, and something about the spirit leaving the body… the whole death/ things drawing to a close in their current form thing is super relevant, in the episode and season.
✨
Scene: Chapo, Cochi & Mariachi band after revealing the tiger at party - bands rendition of Eye of the Tiger
Epic. Hilarious. So over the top. Doing too much. Yes 👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾 (this worked all around) this will always be one of my fav scenes (who gets a damn tiger omg) Chapo this whole scene 😂 Lupita calling Daniella a snob 🤣🤭 same girl, same. Let’s judge her together.
✨
Scene: Min & Miguel talk - music in the background but it’s quiet. Don’t know what song.
I really like the way this scene was framed, and the lighting. Also how quiet it was, even with the party below. I’m sure we all knew, despite Mins attempt, how this was gonna go cause it’s Miguel we’re talking about. There is a quiet intensity to the scene.
✨
🍾 for the songs I missed. I think all the music was well placed. That classical tune while Miguel smoked & watched the party from a distance (post Pacho meeting) was 👌🏾
Prompt 2 of 2
Shuffle song = prompt
I need you tonight
Tiana (ofc) x Amado
Read in full on A03
Read tumblr preview here
No tags | A03 | @artemiseamoon-updates
5 notes
·
View notes
Photo
diego luna in the new trailer of season 4 of narcos
#delicious food#narcos is coming fuckers!!#mine#my gifs#narcosedit#editnarcos#narcos season 4#narcos#diego luna#diegolunaedit#flawlessgentlemen#diegolunadaily#series#serieedit#tvedit#tv#twilightly#userlauri#usergilli#latinxcelebs
128 notes
·
View notes
Note
Okay hi I’m back with an IDEA☄️
So. I’ve been thinking about how stubborn javi would be with his feelings. Like maybe he’s being messing around with this girl and he knows he has feelings for her and she knows it too but both of them are so stubborn so they go out of their way just getting under each other’s skin.
Like imagine they’re at a bar with steve and she’s just flirting around and dancing with guys all the while shooting him bedroom eyes and he’s just there BROODING AND ANGRY n Steve is just like “you guys are so insufferable” UGH
aaaaaaa i love this so much!! here we are:
Always Been Yours (Javier Peña x f!Reader)
Summary: Javier doesn’t take kindly to having his dance partner stolen from him.
W/C: 2.7k
Warnings: language, lots of bad flirting, mentions of sex and sexual topics but nothing too explicit, Javier is his own warning. alcohol and cigarettes.
A/N: ☄️ anon you have done it again!! this was so much fun to write I hope it’s what you were thinking!!
Restraint is one of Javier’s best qualities. He can hold back when he needs to, save his emotions until they’re all too much then channel them out by fucking or drinking them away. He does it often, in fact. Sometimes, that restraint is too strict. Javier never allows himself to relax, never allows himself the luxury of feeling the powerful emotions his mind creates.
This restraint can sometimes transfer over even when Javier doesn’t mean to. He wants to let loose, he really does, but he physically can’t most of the time. Contrary to the men at work who tell him he’s too impulsive, he’s an overthinker. He mentally runs every possible outcome of any situation he’s in. He just picks the more dangerous options sometimes.
Javier holds back his emotions even more when it comes to romance. He sleeps around quite a bit, does what he pleases with whomever he chooses. It’s not because he lacks feelings or attachment, it’s because he fears them both. He knows what he did to Lorraine hurt her immensely. He never wants to hurt someone again, and so he avoids romantic relationships.
He fell for you when he met you. It was as plain and simple as that. When you moved your cardboard box into the desk in the corner of his and Murphy’s bullpen, his eyes were drawn to you. You had such an elegant and beautiful walk, he noticed. Your head was held high, your hips swayed like you were dancing. When you shook his hand, when he felt your soft fingers in his calloused palm, he was fucked.
He flirted with you. Of course he did. That’s how Javier does things. The flirting was subtle and quiet, not loud and brash like he normally was. He told you he loved those earrings, that that blouse was really beautiful. It always tied back to how beautiful you were.
It escalated when he realized you were into him too. You’d flirt back shamelessly, telling him that you wished you were involved with the narcos so that he'd pay more attention to you. He’d shoot back that you weren’t looking right, because his eyes were always trained on you. Steve made a vomiting noise at that and left for more coffee. “You’re just jealous he’s flirting with me and not you, Murphy,” you called out after him. You looked back at Javi with a devilish grin, and he shot one back in return.
That’s how your relationship has been going this time. You’re down hard for Javier, completely entranced by him. When he talks about cases, you have a hard time listening. Your eyes trace his biceps, the way they bulge against the sleeves of his shirt. You make snarky comments just to see the fire in his eyes ignite again.
Javier really wants to ask you out, he does. But he fears it’s unprofessional. He fears that you just want to hook up with him, and he likes you too much to do something like that. He wants you fully, in an all-consuming way.
You really like him, but you fear the same from him. His reputation precedes him, and you know all about Javier’s habits. You know he sleeps with informants to get information in those quiet moments after the work is done. You know he flirts with anything in a skirt around the office, and has slept with a decent number of those women too. Javier is a tornado, tearing through women faster than they can recover. If that’s not enough for him, you know he loves to frequent certain brothels in the area. You notice the sneaking way some of the girls there will grab his arm and murmur something as he walks past, the way he’s far too into it for being on the job. They know him by name sometimes. He knows them too.
As much as you want to be with Javier, you don’t want to be with the womanizer. You want to be with him in the early hours of the morning, want to tighten his tie for him before you walk into work together. You want to make him laugh and want him to stay with you and hold you after the events of the night.
You’re practical though. That’s not really who Javier is. You know that as well as you know the man. You want him in any way you can get him, really. That means you’re willing to just sleep with him. You’d take a night with him over never touching him at all.
Drinks after work are a common occurrence for you, Steve, and Javier. All three of you need the assistance of alcohol to relax after the chaos that is working for the DEA. The two men order beers, and you order a strong cocktail the bar you frequent is known for.
Tonight is a rare night where Connie is out of town. You and Javier, the two single ones, demanded that the three of you absolutely must go to the club. It’s a Friday night, you got off work early for once, and you want to let loose. Steve reluctantly agreed, and now you’re sitting in the backseat while Steve drives you and Javier.
As you enter the club, the music is loud and the bass pounds. You whoop excitedly and wander into the dance floor. Steve and Javier find barstools and sit.
You return after that initial song ends, resting one arm on Javier’s shoulder. They ordered a drink for you, the one they know you love. “Aw, thank you guys,” you coo and rest your head on Steve’s shoulder.
“Jesus Christ, kid. You haven’t even had anything to drink yet and you’re acting like this?” The blonde scoffs and looks down at you.
You frown. “Steve, come on. It’s a Friday night, I’m with my favorite guy, and Javier is here too. How couldn’t I be this happy?”
Javier rolls his eyes at you. “Thanks for that, princesa,” he murmurs as he sips at his whiskey.
The three of you remain at the bar for a while, chatting and laughing. Eventually, a song comes on that you know Javier loves. “Alright, you big buzzkill,” you laugh and grab Javier’s strong bicep. “Come dance with me.”
Javi groans as he stands and sets down his glass. “Fine. Only because you look so good tonight,” he mumbles to you.
Once you reach the floor, his arms wrap around your waist and yours encircle his neck. His hips start moving against yours to the music and you shudder, bare arms prickling in the humid air of the club. You rest your face in the curve of his neck as you dance, both of you moving your feet in perfect time with the other.
He’s a wonderful dancer, you already knew, but something about it is extremely intimate. Your bodies, which have long desired the other’s, are flush against each other. He can feel your tits pressing into his chest and one of your hands slides up into his hair, toying with the waves it finds there. He uses all of the power he physically has to stop the blood from flowing straight to his dick.
“You’re good at this,” you mumble into his ear.
“Only because it’s you I’m dancing with.”
Your time in Javier’s arms doesn’t last long. You dance more separately now, one hand of his still on your waist. It all shifts when another man puts a hand on your hip and turns you his way. “Can I steal you away?” He asks. He’s handsome, dark hair and dark eyes. He’s tall, taller than Javi. You don’t want anyone but your DEA agent, but this presents a wonderful opportunity.
“Of course,” you nod and he twirls you into his arms, wrapping one arm around you and taking one of your hands in his.
Javier watches in disbelief at the ease the man had in taking you from him. You’re now pressed to this random man’s chest, one hand resting over his heart. You giggle at something he murmurs to you and your body is pressed tight against his.
Javier stalks off back to the bar, sitting back down next to Murphy and slamming his whiskey. “Another one,” he calls from the bartender, who has another glass tumbler sitting in front of the man in a matter of seconds.
He watched you from the bar with a growing fire in his eyes. The way your hips moved was like the spinning of a hypnotist’s wheel, drawing him in until he couldn’t look away. You were passed around from man to man, grinning and laughing the entire time. You were having fun, that much was clear, and it almost made Javier feel bad for the jealousy that burned a pit in his stomach. He lights a cigarette to dull the want he feels for you.
Your partner spins you around and you lock eyes with Javier. They’re trained on you, they have been the whole night. You smirk a little before continuing the turn, wrapping yourself into your partner’s chest as he pulls you along across the floor.
Steve rolls his eyes and downs the rest of his beer. “For the love of fuckin’ Christ, Peña. Either quit staring at her like that or go fuckin’ get her from that man.”
Javier glares back at Steve. “Shut the fuck up. You’re supposed to be my wingman, not to fucking yell at me.”
“You need to be yelled at. I am being your wingman. In my professional opinion, as a man who’s fucking married to a woman who played the hard-to-get deal, you need to go show her that you actually do like her or she’s gonna end up going home with that fucker.”
Steve always gives Javier the tough love he needs. He groans as he realizes that Steve is probably right. He needs to go do something now. You lock eyes with him and give him your best teasing smile, your eyes showing everything. You’re having fun, but if Javier comes and stops you, you’d let him do whatever the fuck he wants. “Come get me,” you mouth to the man before resting your head against your partner’s chest, laughing and swaying along with him.
Javier downs his second whiskey and stands. “Fuck it.”
“Atta boy,” Steve laughs and claps him on the back. “I’m telling you now, I’m not driving the two of you home if you’re gonna be making out in the backseat.”
Javier smirks and stubs out his cigarette in an ashtray on the bar. “I live close enough to walk.” He cracks his neck and makes his way out into the rainbow-colored chaos that is the crowded dance floor.
You’re hard to find in a sea of people, all of them twirling and moving. Some women have their heads on their partner’s chest, making it even harder to find you. Javier finds the last man who held you in his arms, the one wearing a green shirt. He’s got someone else now.
Javier is caught by surprise when two arms wrap around his neck and his naturally find their way to rest on the hips of the person: you. “Hey, Peña,” you grin at him, one hand resting on his chest. “Sorry I got pulled away.”
“No you’re fucking not,” the man laughs, moving you along to the music.
“I am,” you refute him, frowning a little. “I wanted to dance with you, but I figured I’d give the other guys a shot. Especially since you’re taking your sweet ass time with me.”
Javier’s eyes darken slightly. “They should’ve realized you’re mine.”
You look up at him, tilting your head and eyes narrowing. “Oh, I’m yours?”
He shakes his head. “We both can tell. You know that, know what’s between us.”
“No clue what you’re talking about.”
“Can I show you, then?” He offers.
You nod, scrunching your nose. “Do your worst, Javi.”
He cups the side of your face with one large hand and kisses you deeply. You gasp in surprise, even though you knew it was coming. It’s warm and perfect, Javier’s strong arms holding you in place.
The rest of the dance floor twirls and moves along, but you and Javier have stopped moving. Your feet are planted firmly to the ground, arms wrapped around him like an anchor point in a sea of people. He kisses you harder and you allow it, kissing him back just as deeply. He tastes like whiskey and you taste like the fruity cocktail you drank earlier. Normally, the two would taste awful combined, but it doesn’t matter because now it tastes like you and Javier and anything with him included is the most delicious thing you’ve ever had the pleasure of gracing your tastebuds.
He breaks away a moment later. “Can I buy you a drink?” He asks teasingly.
“Not if you want me in your bed tonight,” you flirt right back. You can feel the apples of your cheeks warming with a rush of blood from the kiss, from what you’re insinuating, from the alcohol and from the movement on the floor.
“I don’t. I just want you in my arms and maybe on my lips some more.”
You look up at him, truly astounded. “I thought you’d just want to fuck me and be done,” you admit honestly as you push back a strand of dark brown hair that fell into his face while the two of you moved.
“I don’t want that,” he shakes his head still breathless from the kiss. “I want you to be mine. I wanna take my time with you, and yeah I wanna fuck you, but I wanna date you properly and bring you flowers and walk you home late at night, and then I wanna rail you into the mattress so hard all you can feel is me. But that can wait. For now, I just wanna dance with you and tell you that I really like you. Have for a while now.”
You’re grinning ear to ear at his words. “Really?” You ask.
“No,” he deadpans. “I just said all that shit for fun.”
“Your sarcasm is really annoying when I’m trying to be sweet and sincere with you.”
He sighs. “Yes, really, princesa. I just want you to be mine.”
The grin on your face only widens, your heart in your eyes as you look at him. “You don’t need to want it. I’m already yours. Didn’t you say that?” The music changes into a new song, something slower and sultry. “Ooh, I love this one,” you sing to Javi, forcing him along so that the two of you are once again dancing. “I’ve always been yours, Javi,” you admit, your thumb softly tracing the side of his neck from where your hand rests on his shoulder. “Since the moment we met. I really like you.”
“I really like you too, dulzura,” he murmurs and kisses you again. It’s not all-consuming or hot and sloppy like the last one. It’s warm and chaste with only the purest of intentions, Javier’s hands gripping your waist a little softer.
He gets carried away by the way your lips meet his. One of his feet steps on your toes, exposed by the heels you’re wearing. “Fuck,” you cry and wince.
“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry,” he mumbles, instinctually taking a step back from you so that he can’t possibly do it again.
You smile up at him softly as the pain subsides. “It’s alright. Maybe we’ll just need to get you some dancing lessons,” you tease and pull him close again.
You spend the rest of the song like that, slowly swaying along. Javier’s arms wrap around your waist, and he softly kisses the side of your head a few times. Eventually, your head finds its way to his shoulder, where it rests as Javier quietly mumbles the lyrics of the song to you.
He’s not very good at it, and he’d be the first to admit it, but it’s beautiful when he’s soft and quiet. He’s doing it just for you, this quiet act of intimacy. You press a kiss to the skin of his neck when the song ends and he hums a chuckle. “My girl,” he murmurs and kisses you one last time. “Let’s go home.”
-
taglist:
@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867
#javier peña x reader#javier peña#javi peña#javi peña x reader#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal#jose pedro balmaceda pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#narcos fanfic#Narcos#narcos fanfiction#javier peña fanfiction#☄️ anon
264 notes
·
View notes
Text
Trouble, Trouble (Part 2) | Javier Peña x Murphy!reader
Summary: You’re Steve’s little sister and show up to Columbia for a visit. You catch a certain DEA agent’s eye.
A/N: I’m so sorry for the delay. I haven’t felt like writing and there’s been a lot going on at home. I finally got to writing this and I hope you all like it. It’s been a while since I’ve watched an episode of Narcos, so if i’m a little off character, apologies. Also, please ignore any grammatical errors. I read over it like three times but sometimes errors get through. Hope y’all like it! xx
!! It’s got some flashbacks in the beginning that might be triggering, so proceed with caution. !!
Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx
**MASTERLIST**
Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED
** Rules for Requesting **
** Who I Write For **
********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS (@ithinkwehitametaphor - owner is listed below the bottom of the gif)
You’d met Tony at one of the nightclubs in Miami. You were working as one of the entertainers for some extra cash when he’d took a liking to you. He started coming in every couple of days, making sure to leave a good tip for you. You hadn’t thought much of the cash. Cash was cash at this point and it was more than enough to cover your debts. However, Tony had come back a month later with a new group of guys, this time cocaine under their belts, which at the time you had no idea about.
Tony cornered you one night and asked about you wanting to make extra cash. Again, cash was cash and you were naïve. Your instincts should have been better considering who your brother was. You were to take the boxes which were to be delivered every Friday to other night clubs surrounding the Miami area. Rule was, no looking in the boxes. Just deliver them to the night clubs and leave it with the bouncer. You figured it was easy enough.
However, two months in, 8 deliveries total, you became brave and curious. What was this guy getting you to deliver? Why was it so secretive? Where was he getting the cash to pay you every week, especially the large sum that was delivered to you the next night after a delivery was completed. These are questions you probably should have asked yourself before getting into this situation, but again, you were naïve. You peeked into one of the boxes one night and there wrapped inside was cocaine. You knew right away, you were dealing with a drug cartel and there was no escaping now. The next night when you saw Tony, you told him you didn’t want to do deliveries anymore.
“You don’t want to do deliveries no more?” He’d asked you with a cigarette between his lips. It was you, Tony and two other guys in a private room. He never came without backup. Yeah, Steve had taught you self defense, but to take on three guys, who were all carrying guns? That was a death wish.
You shook your head, “N-no.. I.. I want to work here on Friday nights again.”
He narrowed his eyes at you, flicking the cigarette against the ash tray and bringing the cigarette to his lips again, “You stop making deliveries when I tell you to.” He stood and took a step closer.
However, when you stepped back, your back hit the chests of the two men. You gulped as you stared up into his dark and soulless eyes, “I just.. I miss my girls on Friday’s you know?”
He stared at you for a few moments before he gave a signal to his boys. The two men grabbed you by the arms and held you against them as Tony lifted part of your skirt and pressed the cigarette but into your skin and burning a small hole into your thigh. You’d cried and screamed against one of the man’s hands.
Tony gripped you by the chin and made you look at him, “You’re in this now, chica. There’s no escaping. You do deliveries until I tell you stop. You understand me?”
You whimpered against the man’s hands and as he dropped it so you could answer, Tony’s fingers gripped your chin even harder, “I said, do you understand me?”
“Yes.” You whimpered. The men’s grip on you loosened and you fell to your knees in a sobbing mess.
He had not been stupid. He knew you’d looked into those boxes. He also knew you were too scared to say anything. Especially when he personally delivered a note to your door that threatened to kill your family and that he knew you’d seen the deliveries. However, you were smart. You worked under a different name and he had no idea who you truly were. It was an empty threat.
You spoke to Steve a few days later during one of your routine checkup calls and you’d mentioned coming to visit. That’s when he told you no; Columbia wasn’t a safe place for you. However, you figured it safer than having to face Tony again. At least you would be with your brother. He could protect you right? Or would you be making a mistake and bringing danger to him?
~
“Please tell me there’s coffee.” You mumble out as you walk into the kitchen.
“Geez, you look rough.” Steve snickers into his mug.
You flip him the finger and make a face at him, “asshole.”
“Here is a cup and creamer is in the fridge.”
You gratefully take the coffee mug from Connie, “You’re a saint.”
A knock sounded on the door. “Probably Peña.” Steve comments before calling out toward the door, “Come in!”
“I smell coffee.” Javier says as he walks into the kitchen, slipping passed you he takes in your messy hair. You hadn’t slept well at all last night. “Damn, you look rough.”
Your mouth is agape as you stare at him. The balls on this guy, “Yeah well, so does that mustache you’re trying to grow.” You bump shoulders with him as you stalk passed him.
He holds a hand to his heart, “Ouch.” Connie and Steve can’t help but chuckle at the jab. He proceeds to make his coffee, “You want a ride to the office?” He directs his question to Steve, but you pipe up.
“Oh, can I tag along?”
“it’s not bring your little sister to work day.” Steve answers, “You’re gonna hang out here with Connie. Don’t want you roaming the streets and get lost or something.”
“Uh.. I have work today, remember?” Connie says, pointing at the calendar on the fridge, “it’s been written on the calendar for a week!”
“Damnit.” Steve mutters, “Fuck.”
“I’m not a little kid. I can handle being home alone.”
Javier leans against the counter and sips his coffee, “Why couldn’t she come? We haven’t had a lead in weeks and we’re probably going to be doing paperwork all day anyways.”
You raise your hand into the air, “Um hello, not a child. I can take care of myself. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Just let him baby you. Makes him feel better.” Connie teases Steve and gives him a kiss, then rounds the counter to give you a hug, “See you guys tonight.”
“I don’t get a hug or kiss?” Javier holds his arms out.
Connie rolls her eyes at his antics and blows him a kiss, “That’s as close as you’re getting to me. There’s no telling what diseases you have.”
The three of you finish your cups of coffee and you stand, “Let me get ready then we can go.”
“Hurry up or we’re gonna be late.” Steve takes the mugs and washes them out as you head to the bathroom to shower.
Javier can’t help himself as he watches you saunter to the bathroom. You can feel his eyes watching you and decide to tease him a little. A little teasing never hurt anyone. Leaving the door cracked, he can see your reflection in the mirror. He leans forward to get a better look around the wall, just in time to see you pull off your shirt and shut the door.
~
When you arrive at the Embassy, you three walk directly back to Javier and Steve’s desk. “Not too bad.” You comment looking around. You spot their board filled with photos of what you assumed were cartel members. Some had red X’s over their photos, indicating they were dead. There was a column for Columbia and another column for Miami. Your eyes scanned over the different photos.
“We shut down this group last week.” Javier boasts, pointing to the group of men on the left.
You nod, “Connie said Pablo was always one step ahead.”
Javier sighs and leans back against his desk, crossing his arms over his chest, “Yeah. The fucker is quick. I think we’re getting close though.” He points to the right side of the board, where Miami column was located, “Found out a few members are working in Miami.”
Your breath catches when you see his photo pinned to the board.
“His name is Tony. From what we know, he’s the one who delivers the cocaine to various clubs around Miami.” He could tell by the look on your face something was wrong.
Your face had gone pale, like you’d seen a ghost. You knew he was in the drug cartel, selling cocaine, but what you didn’t know was he was working alongside Pablo Escobar.
“Hey, are you okay?” Javier takes a step toward you and gently grabs your elbow.
You gulp and nod, trying to shake it off, “yeah yeah.. I’m fine.” You definitely were not fine. You were in trouble.
Narcos tag list: @neymarlionelmessi7 , @weirdowithnobeardo , @1950schick , @xremember-me-notx
*if your name is crossed out, tumblr is being stupid and won’t let me tag you.
#javier peña fanfiction#javier peña fanfic#javier peña imagines#javier peña x reader#javier peña fic#javier peña x you#javier peña x murphy!reader#javier peña x y/n#Javier Peña x fem!reader#Javier Peña x Female!Reader#narcos imagine#narcos fanfiction#narcos fic#narcos imagines#narcos fanfic#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal imagines#pedro pascal fanfic
135 notes
·
View notes
Text
Honey & Velvet - Part 8
A/N: Maxwell fuckers - rejoice. Here ya go. I hope you enjoy ;) I’m not gonna lie in my head I drew some inspiration from that scene in Narcos. Y’all know the one. If you’d like to be tagged, please let me know, and as always, feedback and comments are always welcome! xx
Pairing: Maxwell Lord x Reader
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: sex, mostly sex, so yeah 18+ (aka mostly porn with little plot)
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 9 | PART 10
MASTERLIST
»»————- ♡ ————-««
“It’s a promise.”
“And just what would you do to me?” you wiped the reminder of your spit from your chin, glancing at your reflection in the mirror over his shoulder. You tried to fix what was left of your lipstick, but it was no use. It was gone to hell, just like you were sure that your soul would be too after what you had just done. And surely would be doing soon enough, “how would you have your way?”
You hopped up and propped yourself up on the edge of his desk, leaning forward just so your breasts were pushed towards him. A dangerous little smirk crossed his features as he stood in front of you, causing you to swallow nervously. His ring clad hand went to your throat as he squeezing lightly, just enough to create the lightest bit of pressure. It went straight to your core as you tried your best not to come completely undone then and there. You still were not willing to give into him that easily.
"Are you nervous?" he asked quietly, leaning forward so his lips were brushing against the shell of your ear. A pleasant shiver ran down your spine as your eyes fluttered closed, an inadvertent reaction to his touch. This man really did have a hold over you.
"No," it was a half lie, concocted to get you ready to deal with whatever he was going to do to you. You'd wanted this for some time now, but now that the opportunity was presented and ripe for the talking you were experiencing a bout of nerves. You cursed yourself silently as Maxwell trailed his hand up and held your cheek. It felt like his dark, almost black with desire eyes, were peering right into your soul.
"We can stop," he offered suddenly, and a panicked look crossed your features as you shook your head no. You planned this all weekend, hell you'd come over to his office in lingerie and an overcoat, there was no way you were backing out now.
You reached for the collar of his expensive looking button down, before slotting your mouth against his and kissing him with a renewed sense of urgency.
He smirked slightly against your lips as sparks of electricity seemed to jolt through your bones at the sensation of his lips on yours. There was something about kissing Maxwell that was different from anyone else. His mouth moved against yours in perfect synchronicity, his hands on your shoulders but slowly moving down to your velvet covered torso as he stare to tug on the delicate fabric.
Your hands slid to his shoulders and you moved to slip off his suit jacket, causing him to pull back momentarily as you tossed it onto the floor. You had a feeling that in most normal circumstances he would have chided you for that, but he was so lost, so drunk on your touch that he wasn't phased.
He trailed a handful of kisses down your jaw and neck, each one hungrier than the last before he stopped at the hollow of your throat, inhaling deeply. You carded a hand through his thick blond locks, trying the capture of softness and intimacy of this moment before it was gone. You had a succinct feeling that it would last much longer; not today anyway. But then again, you didn’t really know what to expect with him.
Maxwell tugged on the delicate fabric, pulling it down the expanse of your chest and letting it settle at yours hips, leaving you exposed, much more than he was. He hands went to the soft flesh of your breasts and he massaged them with his large hands, causing you to momentarily forget yourself as you tossed your head back and let out a small sound of delightful surprise. He was surprisingly reverent in his actions, gentle, as he lowered his mouth, nipping and biting at the soft skin.
But when you caught yourself and put your hands back on his shoulders, pulling him back from you, bringing a hand to his chest, “you’re wearing too much clothing.”
With slightly trembling hands, you reached for the buttons of his shirt, undoing them in a languid fashion, taking time to undo them one by one. Maxwell was watching you closely, almost in a predatory way as you finally, finally, finished and pulled it open. He tugged it off, followed by the crisp white wife beater underneath, leaving his chest bare. His skin was a golden tan, and you couldn’t help but admire it, pulling him back to you by the belt loops of his trousers. Pressing a few small kisses to his the smooth golden skin of his shoulder, you didn’t stop until you were reached his neck, marking him pointedly with your lipstick. He was yours now.
He grabbed your face, this time more gently than he had done in the past and brought your face closer to his. There was such an intensity behind his gaze that you almost couldn’t handle it; the coil in your belly was slowly tightening, already threatening to snap at any moment.
“I am not a nice man,” he insisted quietly, his voice a low timbre that spoke straight to you soul. This was a dangerous position to find yourself in, but you had wanted, craving it to a point where you were not sure you would be able to handle it much longer, “do you understand that?”
“Yes,” your response was a breathy thing, almost inaudible to your own ears. He traced his thumb along your kiss swollen bottom lip, admiring how you seemed to pout at him. Admiring the lips that had been around his cock, the lips that he’d kissed and claimed as his.
“I will not be gentle,” a small look of concern crossed his features for a moment, but any fears that he had were quickly quelled when you grabbed his wrist and slowly put two of his fingers in your mouth, sucking on them, coating them with your saliva as you refused to break eye contact with him.
“Good,” you brought his hand down to your soaked center, letting his fingers touch over your most sensitive area through the black velvet. He let out a sharp exhale as realization, even through the fabric, that you were wet, very wet, “then take me.”
Something within him snapped as he brushed everything off of his desk, beyond caring about the mess or the noise it made. Someone would clean it up later and his door was locked; he only had his eyes on you now. He looked over you for a moment before pushing you back, back, back until you were lying flat on his desk, sprawled out for him.
He tilted his head to the side as he observed you, needy and wanton under him, a large hand trailing down your body and stopping at your hips. In one foul swoop he pulled the lacy bodysuit completely off and tossed it onto the floor. A light shiver, one of pure delight and nerves ran through you as he drank you up. His hungry eyes drank up every inch, every single bare inch, of you as he spread your legs apart.
“You are perfection,” he murmured quietly as trailed his fingers gently up your thigh, stopping at the apex, the very spot where you needed him the most. He could practically feel the heat and warmth radiating off of you, and finally gave in as he ran a finger through your slick folds, “and so wet. Tell me, is all of this for me?”
“Maxwell,” you could barely manage to say his name as he lowered himself to his knees, pulling you closer to his so your soaked center was directly in front of him, “please.”
His grip on your legs was iron, vice like, as he nipped along the delicate skin of our inner thighs, making it a point to leave marks that would you would see for days, marks that would constantly remind you of him. Trying to spur him on, you raised your hips lightly, and he chuckled lightly as he put a hand on your hips to hold you still, “patience is a virtue.”
“Patience doesn’t get me off,” you huffed at him, ready to make some sort of smart remark, but Max was quick to quiet you as he put his mouth on you. Immediately you were silent, seeing nothing stars as you laid back down and gripped the sides of his desk so tightly that your knuckles were turning white.
He used his fingers in conjunction with his mouth, licking stripes up your folds, tasting very bit of you that he could. Deftly, he slid in a finger inside and your mouth opened as a small whimper, a pathetic little sound, reached his ears. You could feel him smirking against as you as he ate you out like you were his last meal, like he was a man dying of thirst. He was not shy, he was timid about getting in there and making sure you were experiencing as much pleasure as you could. Whatever he was, and he was a lot, he was a man that knew how to use his mouth. It didn’t take long for him to get you worked up, to get you close to the precipice of your pleasure as you writhed underneath him.
He added another finger, curling it and finding your sweet spot almost instantly as you closed your eyes and his name fell off your lips, a sound of both curses and salvation. Max snaked a hand up your chest as he grabbed one of your breasts and massaged it roughly, his own low moans creating a pleasant vibration against your sensitive bundle of nerves.
Your legs started to shake lightly around him as he brought you so close, that you saw nothing but haze. He pulled back for a moment, just before you could find your release and watched you with a smirk as you shot up and glared at him, your chest rising and falling rapidly, “Maxwell!”
“Hmm?” he ran the pad of his thumb lightly over your clit and you almost jumped, “are you doing to cum for me? Just like you’ve been dreaming of?”
“You’re such a bastard,” you sighed at him, but then, in a snap he was back on you, earning a small yelp of surprise from you, “fuck.”
“You’re a good girl, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice so gentle and almost...sweet, but you knew exactly how he was. This was just a little taste of bliss before he got what he wanted from you. Not that he wasn’t enjoying this as much as you; no, Maxwell Lord loved the feeling of eating a woman and feeling her squirm under him. It was just that very few women ever got the privilege of experiencing such a feat as he was picky as ever when it came to his partners. You managed to make some sort of sound in acquiescence as you came completely undone under him
A slew of curses left your lips as he working you through your orgasm, not stopping until you all but went limp under him and he made sure to lap up every last little bit of your juices, like it was the sweetest honey he had ever tasted. Only once he was thoroughly satiated did he stand up to his full height and stand over you, studying you intently.
He grabbed your hips and pulled towards him, admiring the blissed out expression on your face. Tucking a few strands of hair behind your ears, you leaned into touch, just wanted more of him. Just before he kissed you again, he whispered, “you taste even finer than the most expensive champagne.”
“Better than Dom Pérignon?” you teased as you pulled him back towards your lips, kissing him with more fervent passion as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You could taste yourself on him and that was enough to get you worked up again; the way he had made you feel like you were the only woman in the world.
“Better than the most expensive bottle of Dom Pérignon in the world,” he promised in between kisses. Growing impatient, you reached for the waistband of his pants and started to pull them down, feeling the straining in his pants. Your previous efforts had long worn off and you could tell he was growing needier, ready for more, “perhaps tonight we can go to dinner and I compare.”
“Hmm,” you mused quietly, “that sounds lovely, but I’ll have you know, Mr. Lord, that I don’t fuck on the first date.”
“Oh?” he caught your hands easily and pinned them above your head, holding them tightly together, so you couldn’t move, “then what do you call then this?”
“This?” you were practically purring at him, driving him crazier by the second, “it’s just a causal business meeting.To see if you can earn that first date.”
He made a sound, practically growled, as he pulled you off of his desk, before turning you around and bending you over the desk so you were face down on it. The wood was slick and cool under your body, but you could feel his heat radiating onto you as he stood behind you, his large hands massaging the tender skin of your bum.
“You’re such a brat, you know that?” you could hear the mixture of admiration and annoyance in his voice. That was enough to have you practically dipping again as he you could hear him tugging down his pants and briefs before hastily kicking them to the side. He loved the game, you knew he did, but he was getting impatient and wanted his prize - you.
“I don’t know anything about that,” you lied, wiggling your bum closer to him so he’d finally take the hint and give you what you needed. Gods, you were going to be the death of him, he was positive of it. He spread your legs apart and reached up to touch your still sensitive core, and gathered some of your slickness on his fingers, “don’t tease.”
“Don’t be such a brat,” his hand firmly came down on your bum, the sound and feeling of his hands bringing up a sound somewhere between a moan and a whimper as he realized that you liked it. And you did, you really did enjoy the sting of his ring clad hand coming down on sensitive skin of your backside. It was...definitely not lost on him as he repeated a few more times to see what pretty sounds he could draw out from your lips as your skin grew more and more red, “do you like getting punished? I can see you do...you’re so wet, just from that.”
“Please,” you turned to look back at him, “need you inside me.”
That seemed to break him and he quickly decided that he needed you just as much. He was surprised that he was able to hold back this long. He took his hard cock and coated it in your slick before slowly pushing in, a low moan in his throat as he relished in how perfectly you felt around him. It was even better than he had imagined. Your mouth was agape as he pushed in and you reached behind you, trying to find him, to ground yourself and find purchase in something.
A quiet fuck escaped his lips as he fully burrowed himself in you, stretching you in the most delicious ways. He stilled for a few moments before finding your hips and holding onto them so tightly that you were sure there would be finger shaped bruises there tomorrow. But you didn’t care, you didn’t care about anything but him and the moment you were lost in.
But before you could get too comfortable, he began to thrust mercilessly into you, his primal instinct taking over as you laid there, fully at his disposal. He didn’t falter, keeping a brutal pace as he slammed into you, a few curses and moans spilling forth, but the only sound in the room was the sound of his skin on ours. You wondered momentarily what anyone passing by would be thinking, but you didn’t care. Let them know. Let them know that Maxwell Lord was having you over his desk and making you feel better than anyone ever had before.
You quickly became a moaning, whimpering mess under him, reaching back and grabbing one of his hands, bringing to your breast, silently begging him for more. He fucked you like it was his only mission in life, like everything depended on it; you weren’t even sure how he had that much stamina.
Once you felt his cock start to twitch inside you, he grabbed your arms and pulled you against his chest, so your body was flush with his. One arm was draped around your chest, harshly groping at your breasts, and the way reached down and he gently circled your sensitive nub. The combined sensation of the light touch and him filling you up was enough to have you shaking, barely able to stand if it hadn’t been for him holding you up. Your release was close and turned your head to kiss him, letting your lips hit whatever bit of salty, sweaty skin you could find.
“Max,” was all that you managed as you felt your knees start to buckle under you, but he kept you firmly in his grip. His breathing was ragged and he was groaning and grunting openly, clearly as close as you were. His pace stuttered for just a moment before he gave you a few more deep thrusts and spilled into you, coating your walls with his hot seed. You were at a loss for words as your walls clenched around him and you found your second release.
But his hand never left your clit, his ministrations pulling everything and then some from you as you gripped the desk tightly. He was thoroughly enjoying watching you shake and whimper as he tried to get everything out of you that he could. He was still inside of you and you were at your breaking point, a few tears running down your cheeks from how overstimulated you were. You reached for his hand and tried to pull it away, but he wouldn’t budge a moment, until your soft little mewl of, “please, please. It’s too much,” reached his ears.
He slowly removed his hand and you let you lay on his desk, trying desperately to catch your breath. Max ran his fingers down your back, stopping at your supple backside and gently massaging the red, tender skin. He was surprisingly docile for a man that had just been mercilessly fucking the life out of you.
“Who knew all it would take was a good fuck to get you to be quiet?” there was a teasing quality to his voice, almost playful, but you still managed to stick up your middle finger and flip him off. He gave a short bark of laughter before slowly pulling out of you, and you sighed lightly at the now empty feeling. You could slowly feel some of his sticky cum slowly start dripping down your leg as he kept you under his gaze, “you really are exquisite, aren’t you?”
“I’ve been told that a few times before,” you slowly managed to push yourself up and positioned yourself so you sitting on his desk facing his chair. He sank down into it and put his hands on your knees, keeping your legs apart as he watched your combined wetness and his cum slowly dribble out, “admiring your own handiwork?”
“Admiring the art,” he insisted as he leaned back in his chair. His hair was a mess, the most disheveled than you had ever seen him, but he was clearly basking in the afterglow. You reached down and gathered some of the cum on your fingers before bringing them to your mouth and cleaning them off, never taking your eyes off of him.
“I don’t think if it’s as fine as some good champagne,” you taunted, “but it’s not bad.”
“Such a little brat,” he let out a short breath of laughter, running a hand through his hair in a vain attempt to fix it.
“Don’t act like you don’t it, sir,” you grabbed his arm and pulled it away from his hair, “leave it. I like the sex hair. It suits you. Maybe you should let loose a little more often.”
“An interesting proposition,” he took your hand and slowly tugged you closer to him, so you were barely perched on the edge of the desk, “care to help?”
“Hmm,” you let your feet hit the floor with a soft thud as you stood in front of him, both of you still in your naked glory, “I don’t know. Stuffy suits are not usually my type.”
“What is your type?” his hands were on your hips, fingers tracing shapes over the area where small blue and purple marks were already welling up. He pulled you closer to him and before you knew what you were doing, before you could consciously consider your actions, you were straddling his lap and sinking back down on his already cock, which was already hard again. You really did have a hold over him.
“Just one stuffy suit,” you admitted, letting out a soft mewl as your hands found their grip on his broad shoulders, “he’s an asshole, kind of a jerk, shamelessly stares at my tits, wears suits from last season, but for some reason he’s been on my mind a lot lately.”
“He doesn’t sound so bad then,” he pulled you against his chest as he slowly thrust into you, his lips finding ours as he kissed you lightly, “if he’s earned your affections.”
“Either that,” you practically moaned into his mouth as you fisted a hand in his hair, bringing his head down to your chest, “or I have horrible taste in men.”
“And yet here you are,” he massaged one breast with his large hand, using his mouth on the other as you moved up yourself up and down on his cock, “in my lap with my cock buried inside of you.”
“You are definitely taking me to dinner after this,” you gasped slightly he bit at your pert nipple. He slid his hands up your sides before bringing them to rest on either of your face. He seemed to study you for a few minutes before brushing your hair back and pulling in for you a kiss. This was so different from how merciless he was earlier, a welcome change of softness, “champagne and all.”
“You’ll get the finest champagne money can buy,” he promised as you sighed contently. Before he could totally melt into his soft side, he gripped your throat and pressed lightly on your marked up skin, “now tell me, little brat, who do you belong to?”
“You,” you breathed into his ear, “I’m yours, Maxwell.”
»»————- ♡ ————-««
Permanent Taglist: @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @yourealegendroger @thesecondlastjedi @bitemerog @rogernroll @secretsweetscollectionblog @sheridans-dynamos @dinkiplier @starrystarrybabe @onexlittlespark @benhardyseyes @marvelstuck @whenthe-smokeisinyoureyes @wonderwich @a-kind-of-magik @lv7867 @itissnowingandimstuckinside @dessert-hardy @rogertaylors-lipgloss @rogerfxckingtaylor @queenbbarnes @drowseoftaylor @persephonesnebula @mamaskillerqueen @theimpossiblehologramtree @loveandbeloved29 @meddows-rose @onceitbubbles @wonderwoman292 @moondustmemories @spacedustmazzello @queenlover05 @ah-callie @blushingwueen @thisis-theway @el-lizzie @rosetophighlander @rae-gar-targaryen @lavenderl3mons-deactivated20200 @hiscyarika @readsalot73 @huliabitch @ollyoxenfrees @coffeeandtodd @beepbeepsephy @gooddaykate @scarlettwitcher @nerdyknightwritersblog @choicesarcade @arrowswithwifi @everythingaboutnothingstuff @24kgolden @suckerfor-fanfics
Max Taglist: @pedrosdoll @pascalisperfect @cosmo-bear @halefirewarrior @irishleesh93 @nadia-rosea @longitud-de-onda @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @thesadvampire @thesadvampire @choicesarcade @avengingangelsoulofmusic @24kgolden @hystericalmedicine @whiskeyxinxaxteacup @ladamari68 @jawabear @bonkybaaarnes @gamingaquarius @absurdthirst
#maxwell lord#maxwell lord x reader#max lord#max lord x reader#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#ww84#ww84 fanfiction#honey & velvet
269 notes
·
View notes
Text
Job Gone Wrong - Javier Peña x Reader
Author’s Note: How could I resist the urge to use this gif?? ugh, this man DOES THINGS TO ME. Anyway, I was VERY, inspired by this post from @spacedadheadcanons (Thank you so much for letting me use it!) and also thanks to @theforceofdarkandlight pretty much INSISTING that I write this 😂 Love you Lauren you da best ❤
And an even more special Thanks to my beta readers @anniebombannie and @amberthefiredemon y’all are so fun and amazing and make this whole process to much easier! love you guys!
p.s. I do NOT speak spanish. I literally punched stuff into SpanishDict! and hoped for the best lol, so i apologize to everyone who can speak/read spanish this is probably butchered XD
Word Count: 2.8k
Warnings: Reader gets stabbed, mentiosn of blood, sticthes, cursing, re-injury, kising, angst and fluff.
///
You had been partners with Javier Peña and Steve Murphy for a little over a year at this point, and you had managed to get Javier into a relationship within about seven months of that time. To say you were surprised was more than an understatement. You had been pining after your fellow DEA agent pretty much the second you laid eyes on him, but you were quick to learn that he was not a relationship guy.
He found what seemed like a new woman every night, slept with her, and then kicked her out before the birds started chirping in the early morning light. It was a routine you had learned very quickly due to the horrifyingly thin walls of your shared apartment building. So, when about two months into your transfer, the obscene sounds from next door stopped, it caught you off guard. You had almost wanted to ask Javier about it, but you knew that conversation would be awkward, so you let it be. However, you didn’t fail to notice the extra attention the agent started to give you soon after. The lingering gazes, the gentle grazes he gave your lower back as he scooted by you, and you definitely couldn’t ignore when he started to bring you coffee every morning, prepared just the way you liked.
Steve let out a low chuckle as Javier walked away after just delivering your morning cup of coffee, having to talk to the ambassador about something.
“What?” you questioned, sipping slowly at the warm drink in your hands.
Steve just shook his head, “You both are just oblivious as hell,” he says, a smirk adorning his lips.
Your brows furrowed together, “What do you mean? He’s just being nice.”
You knew your words were bullshit, but what did Steve expect you to do? Fall down at Javier’s feet and confess your undying love?
Steve rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair, “You both are like two lovesick puppies but are too stubborn to admit it.”
You shrugged your shoulders, “Yeah well, you know how he is…he doesn’t do the relationship thing. I wouldn’t stand a chance,” you sigh bitterly.
Steve shrugs his shoulders, hands clasped together and resting on his stomach, “I don’t know…a little bird told me that a certain DEA agent has caught feelings for you.”
And that was the day you found out Javier Peña had feelings for you too. You had resolved that day to tell him how you felt, but he had beaten you to it when he knocked on your apartment door with a pizza and beer in hand.
The rest was history as they say.
Since then, you two had been together happily. You both had flaws you had to work through but you did it together, hell it only took him a couple of weeks to convince you to move in with him since you practically live with him anyways with how much you stayed over. And of all of this lead you here, chasing down two of Escobar’s men through a local Comuna with Steve. Javier had been away for almost a week working with Carrillo on another lead. The news had made both you and Javier upset, never having been away from each other more than a day or two, but you knew it had to be done. So, you both had to settle for phone calls each night instead. But now you were missing Javier even more, he was usually the one to run after targets while you ambushed them, but now that you were the one running after them you realized just how out of shape you were. You had gotten separated from Steve somewhere along the way but had managed to stay on the Narcos’ tail, sighing in relief when you reached a dead end, corning the man in a small courtyard.
“Pon tus manos arriba donde pueda verlas!” you commanded, gun raised and aimed at the perp in front of you.
He looked at you menacingly before dropping his gun and raising his hands above his head.
“¡ no te muevas!” you say, telling the man not to move as you approached him, gun still aimed while pulling the cuffs from your belt.
You slowly approached him and commanded him to turn around before grabbing one of his hands and pulling it roughly behind his back, clicking one of the cuffs around his wrist. But before you could get his other hand down, he was ripping it from your grasp and grabbing something from his belt. It all happened so fast. One minute you were about to arrest the guy and the next he had turned around and drove a knife into your side before running off.
You let out a pained gasp as a sharp jolt shot through your side, “Motherfucker!” you cursed, hand immediately pressing into your side as you stumbled slightly, pressing your other hand against the wall for stability. You felt the thick and warm liquid run from your side and through your fingers, coating them in a dark crimson.
“Shit,” you whisper at first, “fuck!” you exclaimed, hand slamming against the wall next to you as the reality of the situation sank in.
You had just lost your main lead to the case and gotten stabbed in the process, and you didn’t know where Steve was. This was just great. As if he could read your mind, you heard rapid footsteps followed by a familiar voice calling out your name.
“I’m over here!” you call, finally seeing Steve round the corner and his eyes widened at the red stain blossoming on your white shirt, “fucker stabbed me before he ran off,” you hiss as Steve approaches pulling his jacket off and replacing your hand with the fabric instead, trying to staunch the bleeding.
“Are you okay? Can you walk?” he asks frantically.
You nod, surprisingly it didn’t hurt all that much, you suppose the adrenaline pumping through you had something to do with that, “Yes, I’m fine, let’s just get the hell out of here before more trouble finds us,” you breathe, and let Steve lead you back to the car.
----
You let out a sigh as you carefully strip off your blood-stained shirt in favor of one of Javier’s clean ones lean back into the multitude of pillows you threw on the bed. Steve had just walked you to your and Javier’s apartment after a trip to the hospital and a dose of painkillers.
“Remember to take these every six hours, and then your antibiotics twice a day,” Steve reminded you, pressing the bottles into your hands after you unlocked the doors, “And don’t rip your stitches, last thing we need is another trip to the hospital,” he teases.
you roll your eyes, and give the man a mock salute, “Sir, yes sir!” before walking into your apartment and closing the door.
Okay so maybe the painkillers were doing a little more than just taking the pain away. You mostly felt tired, but it was also mixed with a slightly fuzzy feeling in your mind. Just as you were about to crawl under the covers and get some much-needed rest you heard the door to your apartment open and close, followed by the jingling of keys being tossed onto the counter.
“Sweetheart?” Javier’s baritone voice drifted through the apartment.
A smile immediately lit up your face and you quickly, but carefully, swung your legs off the side of the bed and walked into the living room, eyes instantly falling onto a disheveled but relaxed looking Javier.
“Javi! You’re back!” you say, voice thick with relief as you walk over and wrap him in a hug.
His face falls instinctively to the crook of your neck and he takes in a deep breath, “I miss you so much, mi amor,” he whispers, hands coming to rest on your waist as he leaves a soft kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder.
You can feel him start to push you backwards slightly and you pull away from the embrace looking at him questioningly, “Javi, babe what are you-“
Before you can finish Javier pushes you somewhat roughly into the wall behind you, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you while I was gone,” he breathes, mouth moving from you neck to your jaw.
“I missed you too Javier,” you gasp as his mouth finally meets yours, days of longing and emotions poured into this single action.
Javier’s hands drift from ups up to your sides, gripping you roughly through his thin t-shirt you were wearing, right over your newly injured side. You let out a loud gasp, pleasure and pain, and your foggy mind can’t tell which is more important in this moment.
“Did you put this one for me?” he asks, voice thick with want and need, “because you look so fucking-“ his words catch in his throat as he squeezes your side once more, and his brows knit confusion as a new and unfamiliar warmth meets his hand. He pulls away from you slightly, ignoring your whine at the loss of contact and his eyes widen at the sight before him.
His hand is covered in a thin coat of blood, as he pulls it away from the crimson stain on your shirt, “What the fuck? (y/n), what they hell is this?” he exclaims, voice rising several octaves as he takes your wrist in his non bloody hand and pulls it away from your body to get a better look at your now bleeding side.
You let out an indignant huff, “Some asshole stabbed me earlier today, nothing major now-“ you reached out for him again, wanting to feel his lips on your again, “Come here. I can’t even feel it!” you assure.
Javier lets out an angry sigh, shoving your grasping hands away and instead pulls you over to sit on a stool in the kitchen, “Stop! You got fucking stabbed? And you didn’t tell me?” he asks, anger and concern lacing his words as he hurriedly digs under the sink for the med kit he had there.
You roll your eyes, “I’m fine! Plus, I just got home a few minutes before you did, how was I supposed to tell you?” you argue.
Javier doesn’t say anything in return, he instead rushes back over to where you are sitting, med kit in hand. He quickly lifts your shirt up and over your head to inspect the damage. The bandages are soaked completely through with blood and he gently lifts up the bottom edge of your sports bra to unwrap the dirty bandages.
“Why didn’t you tell me as soon as I walked in the door? It should have been the first thing you told me!” he scolded; voice harsher than he meant for it to be. You sighed and slumped over in your seat slightly, shame filling you at his words, “I’m sorry Javi,” you whisper, hand running through his hair lightly.
His heart was racing at the thought of what happened to you, and the fact that he wasn’t there when it happened. As he unwrapped the last layer, he cringes slightly at the damage he sees. It’s actually not as bad as it seemed, some of the stitches had just ripped from where he had been a little rough with you. he felt a pang of guilt shoot through him.
“No, I’m sorry, look at what I did,” he mutters, pulling the supplies he’d need from the med kit and setting them on the counter.
You opened your mouth to refute his apology but were silenced with a quick peck to the lips instead. Javier brought a hand up to rest on your cheek and gently ran his thumb over your cheek bone, “Just…let me fix you up okay? Then I’ll order some food and we can relax.” Your eyes found his, flooded with concern but also bursting with love as he stared back at you.
You gave him a small smile, turning your head to press a kiss to the palm of his hand and nodded, “Okay.”
Javier gave you a small smile before kneeling down to your side and set to work on patching you up. He cleaned away the blood before disinfecting the area and carefully placing a few stitches back where they needed to be. He took notice of how you barely flinched as he threaded the needle through your skin and let out a small chuckle before tying a knot and cutting the thread.
“They must have you on some pretty strong painkillers,” he comments, now wrapping the bandages around your torso.
You let out a giggle, “I was telling you the truth when I said it didn’t hurt,” you begin, “But I think I’m just a badass, because it didn’t hurt when I actually got stabbed either,” you say, a large smile on your face.
Javier finishes wrapping the bandages securing them with some medical tape before standing so you were looking up at him. he let out a small chuckle and gently placed his hands on your hips, “Yeah well you’re my badass,” he says playfully, pulling you in for a sweet kiss.
You smile into the kiss, his moustache tickling your upper lip slightly before you pull away and rest your head against his chest, sighing contentedly. You both just stayed in that position for a while, his hands on your hips and your arms wrapped loosely around his waist, relishing in each other’s presence after a week of not seeing one another.
You finally broke the silence, “Can we order from that pizza place a few blocks over? I didn’t realize how hungry I was until you mentioned food,” you said shyly.
Javier just gave you a bright smile and gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before pulling you up from the stool, “Anything for you amado,” he says gently.
You smile at his sweet words and follow him as he leads you over to the couch and sits you down, “Stay here I’ll be right back.”
You nod and watch as he scurries off the bedroom, emerging moments later in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, his arms filled with pillows and blankets. You feel your heart swell as he comes over and places the pillows down near the armrest and motions for you to lay down before tossing the blanket over you. you gave him a warm smile as he went to go order the pizza before returning back to the living room and sitting down, pulling your legs into his lap and turning on the TV.
He gently strokes your legs over the covers, and you intertwine one of your hands with his free one, “You’re too sweet to me Javi,” you say quietly.
Javier looks over to you, and shakes his head, “Nothing is ever too much for you mi amor,” he says sweetly before leaning over, mindful of your injured side, and kissing you sweetly before pulling away and taking your hand in his again.
“I love you Javi,” you say quietly, eyes on the TV.
Javier smiles, squeezing your hand gently as his other hand still stroked your leg slowly, a certain calm peace settling over him as he sat on the couch with the woman he loved.
“I love you too.”
Bonus:
Steve watched as Javier walked into the embassy the next day, straight to his desk and dialing the phone. He was still as he waited for whoever it was to pick up then he caught Steve’s eye and turned away from him, as they answered. “Hey, yes I know I just left,” he casts Steve another glance and lowers his voice, Steve had to strain to hear the conversation.
“Did you remember to take your pain killers?” Javier paused, “And the antibiotics?” he paused again, “Yes I know you can take care of yourself, I just wanted to make sure,” he defends, “Okay, yes, I will grab some on the way home, love you,” he says finally and hangs up the phone, turning to return to his desk across from his partners.
Steve gives him a shit eating grin, leaning back in his chair, he opens his mouth to say something, but Javier stops him with an accusing finger, “Not a fucking word,” word he bites.
Steve fights to hold back a laugh and puts his hand up in mock surrender, “Okay Peña, but I will say I never took you for the mother hen type,” he smirked.
Javier wouldn’t admit it, and he definitely wouldn’t show it in front of the other guys at work, but Steve knew how much he cared about you. He had to hold back another laugh as he ducked to avoid the folder thrown his way, finally laughing at the disgruntled look Javier sent his way.
Oh yeah, he wasn’t fooling anybody...He was smitten.
///
Permanent Tag: @lord-wolfgen @petalduck @sebastianstanslefteyebrow @stillreadingfantasy @jokersdoll @simonsbluee
Pedro Tag: @fleurdemiel145 @sargesbestgirl @lustriix @yeah-boiiiiiiiiiii @longitud-de-onda @jellyfishpoptart @ah-callie @mutantsandproud @pascalisthepunkest
674 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Lone Butterfly - Chapter 11
Title of Chapter: Aftermath
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings/Tags: Explicit Language, References to sexual activity, References to human trafficking & kidnapping, Mentions of sexual thoughts, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Age Difference
Pairing: Javier Peña (Narcos) x Isabel Cotrille (OFC)
Summary: Isabel contemplates the events of the previous night. Javier decides to take matters into his own hands concerning Isabel's attacker.
Notes: Thank you, thank you. Follow me for more. x
Find this chapter on ao3
Stretching my stiff limbs, I wake up slowly from the best sleep of my life. A thought pops in my head and I freeze. I look over, but he's not there. I don't know why I'm so disappointed by this, he did say he would stay just until I fell asleep.
I'm reluctant to get out of bed. Somehow, the sheets feel even softer against my skin than they ever did before. I sink back into the mattress for a few more moments until finally attempting to climb out.
Upon standing I see two lean legs peaking out from behind the glass door to the balcony. Javier. He's reclined in a chair, a cigarette between two fingers.
Heat pours into my cheeks. I suddenly remember what we did last night. What he did, anyway. The embarrassment that escaped me in the darkness comes flooding in with the light of day. Remembering his touch and the sounds he wrought out of me makes me shudder. How will I ever face him again after that? I choose the coward's way out for the moment, escaping to the shower yet again.
Once I'm alone, it all comes back to me with complete clarity. I let myself fantasize a bit, treasuring every little detail I remember. The way his hands caressed my skin, rough but gentle. His breath against my hair, whispering wicked words to me while bringing me closer to where he wanted me. I don't think anyone else will ever come remotely close to making me feel the way Javier did last night.
I shut the water off, not wanting to draw his attention again by staying in here too long. I try to summon up some courage while changing into my clothes. I pay more attention while getting ready for the day than I normally would. I discard a white shirt in exchange for a pale pink one that compliments my skin a bit more. Rather than pull my hair into a knot, I tie half of it back and let the rest hang loose around my shoulders. Assessing myself in the mirror, I notice I look much better than I did yesterday.
A shaky breath escapes my lips. There's nothing left for me to do. I have to face him now. I tell myself that he's probably already forgotten about the whole thing. I'm sure it was nothing compared to what he's used to doing with his...partners? I hate that word. It doesn't even remotely describe the relationship between Javier and I. I try and pin point what we are but I can't. Friends doesn't quite work, especially not after last night, but I'm definitely not his girlfriend either. I decide that there really is nothing to compare us to. No box we fit into.
I brace myself before leaving the bathroom, but he's not there. I peer out to the balcony and realize he must've already gone back to his room to change. Glancing at my clock, I notice it's almost time for us to be at the headquarters. He let me sleep in too late. I don't look forward to the meeting, but at least this time I won't have to see Matías.
I hear a knock at my door. It's Javier. Without giving myself time to think, I open it.
I groan inwardly. He looks so good it hurts.
"You ready?"
I blink up at him briefly before quickly averting my gaze. His eyes leave my face to travel down my body for a split second. Clearly, he is unbothered. Though I've shifted my gaze out of embarrassment, I can feel his still hard on me.
"Yep," I quickly blurt out before walking ahead of him to the elevator. He doesn't say anything as we're waiting for it to take us to the bottom floor, just turns to look at me for an agonizing moment. I hear him open his mouth, but he changes his mind, turning back to face the doors as they open to us.
The car ride is much better, some of the awkwardness fading a bit. Javier turns the radio on and smiles as he catches me absent mindedly humming along to the music. I shyly smile back at him. It's ridiculous. I'm about to be questioned for the hundredth time about the hardest two weeks of my life. But somehow, Javier has eased this entire process for me. I remind myself to thank him again once this is all over. Once I go back to Oregon. My smile fades as the thought of leaving him again sends a wave of sadness through me. Last time was hard, I can't even imagine how difficult it will be now that we are... whatever we are.
"What's wrong?" he asks.
"Nothing," I lie.
We pull up in front of the building and I wait for Javier to let me out.
During our meeting with Officer Santiago, I learn more girls have gone missing in the area since last year. Despite continuing to make sizeable profits on the selling of drugs, Matías's gang has decided to further their "business" by entering the human trafficking ring. This is not news to me. I was informed long ago that I was meant to be their first girl. And I was for a little while, until Javier helped me escape. Even so, the news that others are in the same position I was when I was taken sickens me. I still remember the cement room they had me in. It was what I imagined hell to look like.
"Can't you get him to tell you where they are?" I ask.
"We've tried. But he won't budge," Santiago states.
"There are other... methods of interrogation, though, aren't there?" Javier's fury is barely held in.
"There are. Though we try to avoid torture when we can-"
Javier immediately cuts him off. "Bullshit. We're wasting our time asking nicely just to have this fucker give us bits and pieces. What do you think he's gonna do? Draw us a map? There's only one way we're gonna get anything out of him." The hatred pouring from him would terrify me if I didn't know better.
Santiago is clearly angry with Javier for questioning his method, but something tells me he doesn't completely disagree. They exchange a look before Santiago lets up.
"Alright, Peña. I'll give you the day. Do with him as you like, but you better have some answers for me when you're done."
Solemn satisfaction rests on Javier's features. There's not even a hint of doubt in him as he answers.
"I will."
#javier pena#javier pena fic#javier pena imagine#javier pena fanfiction#javier#narcos#narcos fic#narcos fanfiction#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal fanfiction#a lone butterfly series#javier peña
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Something I wanted to say since I started being in this fandom....
The most people who ever tried to -cancel- me and talked behind my back without face me directly, the 90% have been Americans... And I say it, cuz it's like super wtf how latin americans, europeans or Asiatics fans treat me so nicely and these fellas are like if they wear a Monk attire from the Inquisition.
(not all Americans of course, I have very good friends and wonderful followers who are from America , such sweeties, so I will not generalist as everyone, let's just focus on the meanies, unfortunately , the meanies that I had to deal with are from there )
(I actually know which artists were the ones who dared to say bad stuff about me without even daring to face and know me as a person... I will only give you this ...🙃 Have a wonderful day!)
The worst thing they ever said is that I draw CP Like, when in my fucking life. I have two kids at home! I have raised them, I was a mother figure to them, I am a kids teacher too and I love my kids so much so YOU making such rumor hurts me a lot ... Not all the world is America, so we don't see some stuff like u do.
How they can assume that shit of someone when I had to give my life to two boys. Really these guys taking to serious the freaking fiction it's a pain in the ass... Then... That I pro-incest. NO, MOTHERFUCKERS, u really have a big imagination! Please give me some cuz Sometimes I have a lack of imagination and I can't draw anything!!
That I draw Mug and Cup well I do have a story about it... Forgive cuz my NATIVE LANGUAGE IT'S SPANISH
When the very first trailer of Cuphead came out (the black and white one) and WHEN MY ENGLISH WASN'T STILL GOOD and nobody knows they were siblings at least not me I said, oh two cute cups, I will ship them :$
Like, it's not like I could find more information, I couldn't read it anyway and the spanish information about the game was alway "Two BEST FRIENDS TRYING TO GET THEIR SOULS BACK" so well,Sorry for that I guess??
Then time passed and then the game came out and well tadaaaah they are siblings
And I waS Like "SHIT! WHY ALL THE SUDDEN?! well, I don't think it's a big deal, I still have my headcanons where they aren't siblings at all and I always drew them As adults (THEY ARE KIDULTS BY THE WAY),well not big deal after all .....THEY ARE TWO CUISINE UTENSILS AND NOT HUMANS AND NOT REAL PEOPLE SO..."
But UUUUF NOOOH how dare uuu ,Carito, you are the worst person of the world , let's try to cancel u so you will learn to not draw two utensils kissing cuz they come from the same ceramic oven :)))
If you are gonna give me the excuse that fiction alterate reality or something of that style.... Well, in that case I will try to cancel EVERYONE WHO DRAW ASSASSINATION, MAFIOUS STUFF, CHILD VIOLENCE, DRUGS, AND ALL THE BAD STUFF OF THE MOTHER FUCKER WORLD, and cuz I unfortunately been witness of all of it ... I saw two murders in my life that was about drug dealing, narcos and I sadly saw child abuse to the point of super strong violence.... in my family there’s stories of violations between familiars, so sad.
-But one thing isn't that bad than the other >:U- (a real excuse that I got)
.... ARE YOU SERIOUS?! don't try to put a parameter to height if something is less bad or viceversa, THAT is stupid and hypocrite. Things are bad and POINT. BUT
I'm not going to cancel someone who decide to get into that MATURE THEMES to tell a story!
Because if you are mature enough to make a big difference between reality and fiction then you will enjoy the story, you will understand the concept of the story, why the artist decided to choose these themes for their story, etc...
That's why Something called MATURE ADVERTISEMENT exist.... It's a part of text were the artist tell you that they will talk about themes that might trigger you so...
If you choose to watch it, well it's your decision BUT DON'T TRY TO COMPLAIN IF THE ARTIST WARNED YOU AT VERY FIRST. People Sometimes doesn't read if there's not a damn colorful image there! People just pay attention to certain stuff if looks cute.
I think that trying to eliminate these kind of themes to make everything more -pink and healthy- it is unhealthy.... These themes exist in the end, storytelling exist for a reason.
If you have a boundary, it's super fine. I do have my boundaries too and I do avoid things that doesn't make me feel happy at all but that doesn't give me the power of destroy a person cuz -their content doesn't make me happy-. You aren't a hero... You are just a bully.
and if you are gonna -try- then at least come to say it in my face!! Always behind the stage cuz they always been to coward to come to me and talk! COWARDS!. YOU ARE COWARDS!
THEY SAID LIES ABOUT ME, AND some of them destroyed some friendships that I had or make people try to avoid me to -take care of their reputation cuz if I talk to Carito that will make -friends- think the worst of me-
Well, if your friends push you to not talk to someone cuz very silly stuff, what kind of friends you have :/ are we at elementary school or something?
But to be honest they weren't really my friends cuz they doesn't really cared about my feelings enough so whatever. But yeah..... Angery but they never were able to cancel me for real.....
cuz not for being sassy or shit, But I think I showed who really I am and I believe people likes me. I don't need to pretend shit or stop drawing or change my stories at all. I do what I want and cuz obviously I'm not hurting no one, then people get closer to me.
I like them too and I will continue drawing cuz that's my fucking career, motherfuckers. I draw to pay my debts so, don't tease.
I hope them to show that interest of cancel stuff in real life for people who really need it! The world is outside the screen, and we are REALLY full of bad people outside so... I think you should turn off your computer for once... pinchis morros mensos
And if you ever felt trigerred cuz I ever say hola to you just cuz someone told you a -rumor- about me .. well, you are really manipulable. You should give yourself the opportunity to speak to someone and know them first instead of -take care of your reputation- that's bullshit , it's hypocrite and maybe it was the best cuz I don't need people to give me false smiles and turns around to say shit.
If I EVER did something unforgivable well... Let me see it ._. I can't say sorry if I don't know what the hell are you talking about
I had this inside my heart that really hurted me for so long , sorry for the vent and I'm truly thankful that you follow me cuz you like my art and me as a person.
I'm truly grateful of all my friends too! Thank you for being there for me
113 notes
·
View notes
Text
saying ‘i love you’ to ramon arellano felix for the first time would include...
a/n: back on my soft shit today, i started this off as like a headcannon list but i thught this would be a freaking cute one to do individually and a special thx to @narcos-mexico for giving me the idea
let’s start with the most important question who would say it first
and here i go not having an answer for you because i can see this going either way because i see ramon saying it first because he’s just a ball of passion that doesn’t know what to do with himself but also a needy as fucking baby who needs the affirmation that you love him
so let’s begin with the if he said it first
i see this happening in a “heat of passion” situation, something he blurts out
okay so let’s say you have an off and on relationship with ramon because his ass can’t committ to shit but he’s also a jealous fuck
so it would be on one of the ‘off’ periods, and maybe you go to bc you’re a petty piece of shit, maybe bc you’re hoping to see him, or maybe because it’s the hottest spot in tijuana but anyways you end up at roxanne
the minute ramon realizes your presence, his eyes are fucking locked on you... takes every fiber of his body to not run over to you
but when he sees some other guy approach you, whether it be wlemcomed or not, has him fuming .... no one can touch HIS girl and i just
that’s when he fucking loses it and goes over to you to, not hesitating for a second to get up in this fucker’s face about talking to ‘su mujer”
and when you try to stop him as he’s having his men drag the other dude out of the club, he turns to you with this fucking fire in his eyes
just him being like how could you fucking be with a guy like that? bebe, por favor .... he doesn’t give a shit about you, he real you all he wants is to get you into his bed
and you scoff at ramon and cross your arms at him like oh and you do give a shit, is that right??
he’s SHAKING looking down at you with this hiss and he’s like “how are you going to tell me i don’t care about you? i fucking love you, i’ve never loved someone so fucking much in my life, don’t you get it? you’re mine” and the desperation in his voice is tangible
hesitating whether he should touch you because he can’t tell by your expression your exact reaction
and just being like “pinshi pendejo” and KISSING HIM I AM CRYING RIGHT NOW IN THE CLUB
what if you say it first?
okay so um ramon is a literal and actual baby who needs to be reassured that you still love him
but the first time i can see it happening when ramon is in one of his fucking ~moods~
i see it as like coming down from one of his like restless and violent moods... when he’s questioning everything he’s ever done, questionin whether you still love him or shit even if he deserves the love at fucking all ... he’s just going through it okay
and i just see him like coming to bed at night but he can’t settle himself; he’s at the edge of the bed running his hands through his hair or like pacing in the room
whispers what if ramon has nightmares because he sees a lot of fucking shit wow please fucking ignore me
but you wake up to his restless and like sad ass, sleepily looking at him and being like “que te pasa, bebe, ven” and at first mon feels bad for waking you up but when he turns to see you like sitting up and with arms beckoning for him to come let you hold him he’s all but throwing himself at you
he wants the comfort, wants the warmth and reassurance so him laying on your chest as you run your hands along his hair and kiss his forehead
he says that it calms him down hearing your heartbeat and you help regulate his breath
but tbh he also loves being able to nuzzle into your tits because it’s still ramon even if he is fucking sad
and he’s laying on your chest and he’s spiraling and you have to stop him and just hold his face gently so he’s looking up at you and being like “ramon, mi vida, sh” and him still not being able to stop and you just look at hm with a little smile and are like “bebe, te amo”
AND FOR THE FIRST FUCKING TIME IN HIS LIFE RAMON IS COMPLETELY QUIET, LOWKEY STARES BLINKING AT YOU AND IS LIKE ...Q U E?
and just giving him an adoring smile and being like “te amo, pero un chingo, corazon”
and the ways his eyes fucking twinkle when you say it and he leans up to kiss you
is covering your face with kisses and repeating how much he loves you over and over and over again i
but once you say that shit, he’s going to need to hear it 24/7, we discussed his love language being words of affirmation and this is what it’s all about
reassuring him you still love him after his pendejadas, him telling you that he loves you when you do anything fucking nice for him, pouting when he points out you haven’t told him in a while
SOFT BABY MON OKAY @itati
#narcos mexico imagines#narcos mexico imagine#narcos mexico#ramon arellano felix#ramon arellano felix x reader
239 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
homeless-wind
summertime
ask-helsknight
The Blog of Helsknight
litmemesforgaypeople
mostly Frankenstein
samdelano
Oalden Oamsir
damnreddragon
DarkOverord's Art Blog