#Javi Peña fanfiction

[selfcarecap]

Backseat [j.p]

pairing: Javier Peña x reader

summary: When Javi has to work late, you visit him to help relieve some stress during his break. Or, as Lana said: let’s get in the back of your cop car officer <3 (kinda)

warnings: my first Javi fic omg and first fic in general in like one and a half years sooo, smut (public sex technically (in/next to a car) but no one sees them don’t worryy, p in v, unprotected, oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk (only from Javi though, reader barely says a thing oops) excessive use of ‘baby’, use of ‘good girl’, Javi comes on reader’s belly and face, established relationship, not tooo much aftercare but they’re both fine with it, Javi taps (not slaps) reader’s cheek during sex), I assume that’s clear but this is about the fictionalised version of him lol, brief mention of the reader’s (harmless) crush on Steve lmao, cute and romantic Javi

word count: 2.8k

The threat of rain lingers in the cool air as Javi takes you to his car, his greedy hand placed on your ass as you walk. He’s parked at the other end of the parking lot next to the station, in a roofed corner with walls on the sides shielding it, and no other vehicles in sight. He did say he’d make sure no one would see you.

You haven’t had sex in a few days, both busy with work and other things, and you were looking forward to him finally fucking you again come Friday night. When he called you to say he had to stay at work at least a few more hours, you knew you’d have to go to him if you still wanted sex today. Otherwise Javi wasn’t coming home before you were fast asleep, and you couldn’t wait until tomorrow.

Javi was on board as soon as you asked if he had a few minutes to spare; he knew what your tone meant immediately and he missed the feeling of you naked in his arms as much as you did.

He unlocks the car and pushes the front seat forward to make more space in the backseat. You sit down in the back and grin, pulling him into the car by his jacket.

“Wait, baby, we better do it like this,” he says, pulling your legs to the side of the seat, the car door still open as he spreads you out on the backseat.

“You want to fuck me with the door open?” You ask.

“It’ll make it less obvious what we’re doing, and I can fuck you better like this.” You take in the position of him standing next to the car and think of him squeezing into the backseat with you instead. He’s probably right. You don’t mind as long as he gets on with it.

Javi takes off his leather jacket and drapes it around your shoulders, “You warm enough?” 

You nod. The comfort of the car and the corner it’s parked in and, more importantly, the promise of Javi’s warmth provide a pleasant coziness. With a grin on his face, Javi finally bends down to kiss you, and you immediately push your tongue into his mouth.

“We gotta hurry up, you think you can do that?” Javi asks between kisses, and you nod desperately. As if you didn’t come all the way to the DEA station after your own draining workday just to get fucked. You’ve been waiting for this all week.

He pushes his thumb between your lips and you drool around it immediately. You respond to his questioning expression with an enthusiastic nod as he finds the hem of your short skirt and pulls your panties to the side. His wet thumb on your clit makes you gasp and arch into him. You can definitely make this quick.

Javi smirks at you, “You been waiting for this as much as I have? I’m all ready for you, baby, just tell me when you’re ready”. He kisses you and continues to rub circles over your clit as your pussy gets wetter and wetter, and you let out an incoherent string of sounds that’s supposed to let him know you’re ready.

He pulls back from the kiss and gently takes your face in his hand, squishing your lips into a pout, “What was that? You know that’s not enough for me. Need you to properly say it.”

You look up at Javi through your lashes, licking your lips, “Yes, I’m ready, Javi. Please fuck me.”

His face breaks out into a grin, “See, wasn’t that hard, was it? Or are you already too horny to speak?”. All you can focus on is his big fingers that have started fucking you, so you know better than to try and give an intelligible answer that would only come out as gibberish anyway.

Your stomach somersaults when Javi undoes his belt, the clang of metal making your pussy throb. You reach down to pull your panties down your legs, and seeing the wet spot on them makes you even more excited for what’s to come. Javi pushes your legs up against your chest with a hungry groan, and bends down to press a kiss to your pussy. 

He decides to stay between your legs for a bit longer when he hears you sigh as he starts to lick sloppy circles against your clit, the taste of your wet pussy making him want to stay there forever.

“Javi,” you mumble, almost sounding as if you’re tipsy. You could easily cum from his mouth on you, but you know you don’t have much time before he needs to get back to work, and you need him inside you now.

He leans down to quickly kiss you as he unzips his jeans, and you break the kiss to look at his hard cock.

“I’m ready, I’m ready,” you repeat before he can ask you to say it again. You lie back but he stands up straighter to scan the area and make sure no one’s there to see and you slump against the backseat, lying down. 

You lean your head to the side impatiently and catch the scent of Javi in the jacket of his that you’re cuddled up in, and it makes you want him even more. He laughs when you reach out your hands to him and he finally puts his hands back on your body, grabbing you to pull you to the edge of the backseat. The space is tight, the car door opened as wide as it can be as he stands next to the car facing you, but he’s making it work.

Javi spreads your legs and stands between them, casting one last glance above the car, “We’re good but we still have to hurry before someone sees us,” he says and you grin, ready for him to finally finally start, but he takes your grin as something else.

He smirks as he puts a hand on your jaw to make you look into his eyes, “You like that, baby? You want someone to walk in on you getting fucked, huh? Maybe Steve… I know he’d like that. What do you think?”

You slap his hand away and fake-gasp; he’s been teasing you about your ‘crush’ on Steve ever since you made an offhand comment about him being attractive.

“Just want you,” you mumble, half wanting him to know he’s the only one you want to be with, and half bashful because, well, Steve is attractive.

Javi grins and leans down to kiss you, simultaneously sneaking a hand up your skirt again, “Don’t worry, I know that. I can feel how wet this pussy is just for me. Could get lost in you forever.”

“Then do,” you say, craning your neck forward as he slaps his cock against your clit. You start to open your mouth a bit. You just want one brief taste before he fucks you. He looks at you and gently pushes you to lie back down, and you pout. 

“That has to wait until tomorrow, baby. You know I won’t be able to stop if you wrap those pretty lips around me,” he says and strokes his thumb across your cheek. You smile, satisfied knowing the effect you have on him.

You spread your knees as wide as you can in the small space, Javi stepping as close to the side of the car as he can.

“You ready?” He asks one final time, rubbing the head of his cock up and down your wet and aching pussy.

“Mmhm, yes,” you moan, your fingers reaching down to spread your lips for him. Javi adjusts his position and pulls one of your ankles over his shoulder and decides to give one last glance to your surroundings to make sure no one will interrupt him fucking you, even though, right now, you couldn’t care less who sees. His hard dick that rests between your legs and pulses against your clit is enough to make you forget about every other thing in the world.

“So needy, baby,” he taunts when you sigh dramatically to get his attention, and you can tell he tries to tease you a bit more but ultimately gives in after a few seconds and pushes his cock into you. It slides in all the way with how wet you are, and you let out a desperate noise that’s muffled by Javi’s mouth slotting over yours. 

He puts one hand on your hip to direct your body better and his other hand holds the side of your face as he caresses it, “Don’t mind you being needy though, baby, so am I. So glad you came, spoiling me with your pussy during my break. I could get used to this, you know?”

His eyes close in pleasure as he starts to fuck you, “Always so tight for me,” he says, voice strained. Every time his hips drive into yours is accentuated by the loud sound of your wet pussy, taking every inch of your boyfriend’s cock as he ruts into you like he hasn’t fucked you in months.

“‘M not gonna last long so you better be quick, baby, yeah? Can you do that?”

You nod quickly, unable to form words and he grins devilishly when only a few sounds of pleasure make their way out of your throat. 

“God, I love when you get like this, all speechless because you‘re too horny for me. Love how you take my cock, you’re so fucking tight”, he roughly taps your cheek three times and you lean into his touch, into the sting, as he fucks you harder. 

He grabs your face more roughly and you moan as he continues praising you, “Always so fucking pretty for me, oh my— god”, he changes his pace and you feel the difference too, heat building up in your lower belly, the pleasure all flowing into the space between your legs that he’s fucking with what feels like all his strength. Javi puts two fingers in your mouth and you eagerly suck them, your mouth full, drool starting to spill from your lips. 

“Fuck,” he moans, and starts hastily rubbing your clit with his other thumb, his wide body keeping your legs apart, “You wanna cum for me, baby? Being such a good girl for me.” 

You moan as your orgasm washes over you, your pussy squeezing tightly around Javi and he fucks you through your waves of pleasure, “That’s it, that’s my girl, my good fucking girl”, he speaks to you through almost gritted teeth, trying desperately not to cum until you’re finished.

He can feel the exact moment it gets too much for you, taking his hand away from your clit but he continues fucking you, his hips relentless against yours.

“Show me your tits, baby,” he asks with a hoarse voice, the wetness of your pussy pooling between you both. You messily pull up your shirt, exposing your tits to the cool air, still feeling weightless and slightly out of your mind from your orgasm. He takes his hand from your mouth and greedily grabs one of your tits. He smirks seeing you bare under your top and starts playing with your nipple, making you arch your back.

Javi pulls out of you and strokes his cock only a few seconds before he’s spurting cum all over your belly and chest. As you greedily strain your neck to see every single drop that he’s cumming you get closer to him and some of his cum lands on your lips and cheek.

“Fuck,” you both moan into the space between you as Javi jerks off until he’s drained, and you quickly push your hand between your legs, rubbing your once again pulsing wet pussy.

Javi sees your hand on your pussy and slaps his still hard cock against your clit a few times. He then gently pulls your hand off yourself and replaces it with his mouth as he bends down to suck on your clit. Incoherent words leaving your lips, you grab Javi’s hair and grind your pussy against his face, your thighs around his head.

It only takes a few more moments of his tongue on your clit until you succumb to the weightlessness of your second orgasm as it shoots through you with a new intensity.

You let your legs fall around Javi's shoulders when you’ve finished and smile at him looking back up at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes. He shakes his head, unable to believe you just did this, right here and during his work break. It definitely won’t be the last time.

He stands back up and wipes the cum from your face with the pad of his thumb and you suck it off him until your face is clean again.

“I’m so happy you're mine, baby. Only mine,” he says before attacking your face with wet and sticky kisses. He tucks himself into his pants and gets baby wipes from the pocket of his jacket that you’re lying on. 

“Did so good for me, baby,” he praises as he wipes your belly and tits, leaving kisses there after. He gently wipes over your face again, just to make sure, and cleans you up between your legs.

Afterwards, he pulls your clothes back in place and kisses you as he leans down over you in the backseat. You wrap your legs around his waist and let him just hold you, and you let out giggles as he kisses you all over your face again. You brush your hands through his hair to tame it, and just when you’ve deemed him presentable you hear Steve’s voice from not too far away.

“I’ve been looking for you. Break’s over,” he walks around the corner and sees you in the back of the car.

“No sex in our car,” Steve slaps Javi on the back and moves to the front of the car. He gives you a look when he sees the seat pushed all the way to the front.

“We were just cuddling. I missed him,” you say in an innocent tone and Steve seems to buy it, or at least pretends to, and pushes the seat back and sits down, pulling the door shut.

You give Javi a wide-eyed look at how close that was and he grins back, pulling you to sit upright. There really are worse people to walk in on you than Steve, but you’re still glad that he was a few minutes too late. 

“We’re driving you home,” Javi declares, and makes Steve get in the back and sits you in the front. It’s not until Javi drives away from your little corner with the roof and walls protecting it that you realise it must have been raining for a while.

It’s a lot colder now and the streets are wet, a steady flow of rain pouring from the clouds. You pull Javi’s jacket around you closer and already dread having to give it back to him when you’re back home and he has to leave to work some more. 

Once the car stops in front of your house, Javi walks you to the door. You pout but part with the jacket and Javi puts it back on. 

“Now it smells like you,” he smiles and hugs your waist to pull you in for a kiss. Maybe you don’t mind giving him back his jacket after all. You tell him good luck with the rest of his work night and he doesn’t drive away until he sees the light on your floor turn on. Even if you’ll be asleep, he can’t wait to come back home to a bed warmed by your perfect body. 

“Man, I’ve never seen anyone so in love,” Steve says, pretending to be annoyed, but really Javi knows he’s happy for you two.

Javi just smiles. He’s never seen anyone more in love either, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

☆.｡.:*support a writer and reblog and let me know if you enjoyed this fic, it helps out a lot.｡.:*☆

#Javi peña x reader #javier peña x reader #javi pena x reader #Javier pena x reader #i have no idea if the n makes a difference to Tumblr help #narcos #Pedro pascal #javi peña x you #javier peña x you #Javi pena x you #javier pena x you #narcos fanfiction #javi peña fanfiction #javi peña smut #javier peña smut #javi pena smut #pena looks so stupid lol but idk if I need it asghjd #javier pena smut #boyfriend!javi peña #selfcarecap

[wannab-urs]

Title: Something Sweet

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: You’re new to the team in Colombia and all alone on your birthday. Your partner, Javier Peña, decides to do something sweet for you. 

Tags: Set vaguely during season 1 before Javi gets extra angsty, canon compliant-ish, reader feeling lonely, sassy!reader, flirty!javi, alcohol (wine), brief mention of a gun bc I feel like a DEA agent wouldn’t just answer the door all willy nilly, kissing, javi asking for consent, but y’all did share a bottle of wine, kissing, fingering f receiving, marking, unprotected PinV, cuddling. I always write angsty Javi, but this is FLUFF, so sorry if it’s OOC, I’m slightly out of my element here. 

WC: 2107

A/N: This fic is a birthday gift for @psychedelic-ink. Sil, you’re a wonderful friend and you do so much for the Pedro Pascal Fandom community on top of being an incredible writer. So, with some help from @pedrorascal with the beautiful gifs, I schemed up a little fic for you. I hope you love it! Happy Birthday and Happy Holidays AHHHH. 

Moving to a new country two weeks before your birthday, which also happens to be Christmas Eve, is not ideal. You moved to Colombia from Miami after a promotion, earning a spot on the elite team working to catch Pablo Escobar. 

The last two weeks have been a whirlwind, trying to catch up on all the facts of the case. You have to learn every sicario by sight and all of their names, aliases, and frequent hang outs. You have to learn about everything Escobar has done in Colombia, all the cartels and how they connect, it’s all extremely exhausting and time consuming. 

Which is why you have no friends yet, unless you count your new partners Javier Peña and Steve Murphy. Which you don’t. You barely know them, and from what you’ve seen so far, Peña is an asshole. Steve might be okay, but you just haven’t had time to get to know him yet. 

You take off your windbreaker and hang it on the back of your chair. It’s kind of ridiculous that you have to work on Christmas Eve, but there’s no rest for the wicked and therefore no rest for you either. You sit down and open the first file on your desk, immediately getting down to business without so much as a greeting for your partners. 

A couple hours into the work day, a shadow darkens your desk. “What do you want, Peña?” 

“God damn, hermosa. Touchy today? I brought you a coffee.” Peña sets the cup of lukewarm black slop on your desk and leans further into your space, peeking at the files you’re reading. 

“Yes, actually. Did you need something or did you just come over here to bother me?” 

“I just came over here to compliment your nails, actually,” he takes your hand in his, inspecting your nails, and then looks into your eyes. “I like the color. Suits you.” 

You feel heat rise to your cheeks. Peña is cute. Gorgeous, really, but you don’t make a habit of flirting with your coworkers. “Thanks… They were my birthday gift to myself.” You tug your hand away from him and place it in your lap. 

“It’s your birthday?” He asks, still leaning much too far into your personal space. You nod and look back down at the file. 

“I have to get back to work now,” you almost whisper to him, all your bitter snark from earlier replaced by a sense of melancholy. There’s not a soul in this entire country who knows it’s your birthday today. Aside from Javier, now, you guess. Javier lingers for another moment before pushing off your desk and leaving you to your work. 

You’re starting to pack up for the day when Peña comes up to your desk again, sitting on the corner. 

 “So what are your plans tonight?” he asks. 

“Huh?” You don’t have any plans. A phone call from your friend in Miami and a bottle of Chilean wine maybe. 

“Your plans? For your birthday?” 

“Oh. I don’t have any. Don’t really know anyone yet so…” you trail off. You feel kind of pathetic, even though you know it’s completely reasonable to not have a group of friends yet. 

“Me and Murphy could take you out?” 

“Oh um–”

“Actually, Jav,”  Steve calls out from his desk. “Me and Connie have plans tonight. Christmas Eve and all,” he gives you an apologetic look. 

“It’s fine really. I’m gonna have a nice relaxing night in. Thanks though.” You put on the best smile you can and head for the door. 

You hang up the phone after your short call with your friend. It’s expensive to call long distance, but she stayed on with you as long as she could. She told you all about her new boyfriend and that everyone had wished you a Happy Birthday and Happy Holidays. You’re grateful she didn’t ask about your job or your love life. 

As you pop the cork on a bottle of wine, there’s a knock on your door. You stare at the door questioningly, as if it will tell you who’s there. Who on earth could be knocking at your door at 8pm on Christmas Eve? 

You grab your gun and sneak over to the door, peeking through the peephole. Broad shoulders and a dark head of hair are all you can make out through the tiny lens. Javier? You set your gun on the side table and pull open the door. 

“Peña? What are you doing here?” 

He turns around and holds his hands out to you. “Brought you something.” He’s holding a birthday cake, clearly store bought, decorated with a generic “Feliz cumpleaños” scrawled on top. A bright smile lights up your face. 

“Oh Javi, you didn’t have to!” 

“I wanted to. You gonna invite me in for some cake?” He raises his eyebrows at you. 

“Oh! Yeah sure. Come in!” You step to the side to let him through and close and lock the door behind him. “Sorry about the mess. I’m not fully unpacked yet.” 

“I’ve been here for 7 years and I’m not fully unpacked. It’s fine.” Javi reassures you. He sets the cake down on your kitchen counter and starts rifling around for plates and silverware. 

“I can do that,” you try to move him out of the way, but he’s having none of it. 

“No, it’s your birthday. Let me. You pour yourself a glass of wine and go sit on the couch.” 

“Fine… thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

You grab a couple glasses and the bottle of wine and carry it to the living room with you. You’re kind of shocked he’s here. He’s always flirty in the office, but he’s like that with everyone. He’s not what you’d call friendly otherwise. Maybe he just feels bad for you. 

Javier drops down onto the couch beside you holding two plates with hefty slices of chocolate cake. He hands you one of the plates and a fork. “Happy birthday. I’m not going to make you do the whole candle thing.”

“Thank you, Javier. This is really, really nice.” You feel like you might cry. It’s just cake, but you felt so alone, and it’s like he really saw you. He saw through whatever exterior shell you were wearing and decided to try to make your day better. 

“Just Javi is fine. And it’s not a big deal, really. You deserve something sweet on your birthday,” he says looking down at the cake in his hands.

“It is to me. A big deal, I mean,” you say softly before taking a bite of the cake. It’s nothing special, just a plain chocolate cake, but it means so much to you. 

You and Javier, Javi, chat about where you’re from and how you came to work for the DEA. You tell him about living in Miami, about the promotion that brought you here. You finish the bottle of wine and a couple more pieces of cake and the conversation doesn’t stop for a long time.

Late in the evening, you finish a story about your 6th birthday, one your aunt always told to the whole family every single year at your birthday dinner. He’s sitting close to you, his thigh pressed against yours despite there being plenty of room on the couch to sit without touching. It makes your heart flutter a little. 

You don’t know if it’s the wine or what, but the little crush you have on him is getting pretty hard to ignore. Javi smirks at you, reaches up, and brushes his thumb over the corner of your lip. 

“Got a little icing there, cariño,” he says, his voice lower and huskier than it has been all night. He brings the icing smeared thumb to his mouth and sucks it between his lips. Your eyes track the movement, pupils blowing wide. He really is pretty. 

You feel yourself lean in toward him, almost unconsciously chasing that thumb to his mouth. He brings his hand up to your cheek and searches your eyes for a moment. He must see what he was looking for because he pulls you closer and presses his lips to yours. 

His lips are soft, warm, gentle on yours. You grab his face in your hands, not wanting him to pull away yet. He slips his tongue along the seam of your lips and you part them, letting him in. You’re not sure who makes the move, but slowly, your back is lowered to the couch, Javi a comfortable weight on top of you. Your hands explore his broad shoulders, the muscles of his back, his trim waist, as he plunders your mouth with his tongue. 

“Can I touch you?” He rasps against your lips. 

“You already are,” you giggle. “Sorry. Yes, Javi.” 

He huffs a laugh into your mouth and slips a hand into your lounge pants, fingers finding your dripping seam. “Wet for me already, hermosa?” 

Your cheeks heat up in slight embarrassment, but you nod. You’re soaked just from kissing him. By the feel of him against your thigh, he’s not better off. He pushes two fingers inside you and presses his lips back to yours. You gasp into his mouth, hands fisting in the back of his shirt. 

His fingers immediately find the spongy spot deep in your core. He curls them, dragging the pads of his fingers along your g-spot with every pump of them inside you. You cling tightly to him, burying your face in his shoulder. 

“Come for me, baby.” 

Your body responds to his command instantly, the tension in your belly releasing into waves of pleasure. Your cunt flutters around his fingers and you whine into his neck as he works you through it. You collapse back onto the couch, and he wastes no time dragging your pants off you. 

You hear the clink of his belt opening, the sound of it hitting the floor. You sit up on your elbows to watch him as he strips off the rest of his clothes. You bite your lip, drinking in the sight of the gorgeous man before you. 

He takes your hands in his and pulls you to your feet before pulling your tank top off you. “Shit, hermosa,” he whispers almost reverently as he takes one of your tits in his large hand, rolling the nipple between two fingers. “Gorgeous.” 

 He kisses you again, wrapping his strong arms around your body and pushing his chest flush with yours. “Bedroom, cariño?” 

You walk him back to your room, barely separating your lips from his for the entire journey. You fall back on your bed and he follows, settling between your legs. His lips drag down your jaw line to your neck as he lines himself up with your entrance. Javi sucks a mark just below your collarbone as he slowly thrusts inside you. 

You wrap your legs around his hips and pull him deeper into you, whining at the stretch. “Fuck, Javi.” 

“Working on it, cariño,” he teases as he bottoms out inside you. He pushes himself up on his elbows and stares into your eyes as he pulls out and thrusts back in smoothly. Your mouth falls open, a little huff spilling out as he bottoms out again. He feels so fucking good inside you. 

Javi sets a steady pace, thrusting into you hard and slow, eyes never leaving yours. When your eyes flutter shut and your back starts to arch in pleasure, he slips his arm under your back, pulling your hips higher on his thighs. The new angle is everything. You gasp out a moan every time his cock punches deep inside you.

Javi is everything in this moment. Your world narrowed to the feeling of his cock pounding into you at that same maddeningly slow, hard rhythm. You feel yourself tightening around him, feel a coil winding in your belly tighter and tighter. 

Javi’s lips find yours again with a kiss that’s more a clash of teeth and tongues than anything as you come hard on his cock. Javi lets out a low groan into your mouth at the way you squeeze him. He thrusts into you a few more times, fucking you through your high, before he quickly pulls out and spills all over your belly. 

He rests his forehead on yours for a moment, catching his breath. He kisses you deeply one more time before falling to the bed beside you. Javi pulls you into his arms, not paying any mind to the mess he made on your stomach. He holds you close, kissing the top of your head. 

“Happy Birthday, cariño.”

#Javier Peña #Javier Peña fics #Javier Peña fanfiction #Javier Peña x reader #Javier Peña x you #Javi Peña #Javi Peña fics #Javi Peña fanfiction #Javi Peña x reader #Javi Peña x you #Javi P #Javi P fics #Javi P fanfiction #Javi P x reader #Javi P x you #Narcos #Narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedrostories

[tightjeansjavi]

suave

A/N: the Javier Peña brain rot is in full swing! Mans just deserves all the simple pleasures in life including face masks, a bath with his lover, and fresh fruit 🤍 thank you @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for betaing and translating! You already know how much I adore you, cariño ;)

~word count: 1.3k~

Summary: a glimpse of a self care evening with your boyfriend Javier Peña

Pairing | Javier Peña x f!reader

Warnings: domestic fluff, established relationship, mentions of alcohol and cigarettes, no age gap, intimacy, implied smut, Javier is in love, both the reader and Javier speak fluent Spanish, grumpy!javi, reader has no physical descriptions, +18 minors dni!

Espero que tengas razón, querida - I hope you’re right, darling

Bésame, Javier - Kiss me, Javier

Te quiero, mi corazón - I love you, my heart.

Te quiero, Jav - I love you, Jav

¿De verdad tengo elección, hermosa? - Do I really have a choice, hermosa?

¿Te metes en la bañera conmigo, querida? - Are you going to join me in the tub, darling?

Mmm, paciencia, mi amor - Mhm. Patience, my love

¿Confías en mí, no? - You trust me, don’t you?

Pues claro que confío en ti, querida - Of course I trust you, darling

Relájate - Relax

¡Joder! Esto está más frío de lo que me esperava - Fuck! That is colder than I was expecting

Sí lo es, pero es un frío resfrecante, ¿no? - It is, but it’s a refreshing cold, no?

Eres tan preciosa, cariño. Pero esto huele raro, y hace cosquillas - You’re so beautiful, baby. But this stuff smells funny, and it tickles

Muy guapo, Javi - Very handsome, Jav

Muy americano - Very American

Juguetona - Tease

Te necesito, hermosa. Por favor. - Need you, gorgeous. Please

¿Me puedes leer un poco, amor - Will you read to me, lover?

Pero estás tan guapo con las gafas puestas, Jav - But you look so handsome in them, Jav

Y me los pongo sólo para ti, querida - And I wear them just for you, darling

Javier Peña almost never finds the time to relax. That is until you have something to say about it. Your boyfriend believes that self care comes in the shape of a bottle, lighter, and cigarette pack. Your definition of self care is vastly different, but Javier is always a good sport, even if he’s reluctant at first.

“Hermosa, I’m failing to understand how this shit that you wanna put on my face is supposed to be relaxing.” He grumbles and drags his hand through water being filled in the tub. He’s careful to not accidentally light himself on fire due to the surrounding candles that were lit for an added ambience.

“Javier, this ‘shit’ is relaxation in a jar, guapo.” You sit along the edge of the tub with the homemade face mask resting in your lap.

He looks over at you, a few wispy strands of hair fall over his face and you reach over to gently brush them away. He catches your hand gently and pressed his plush lips to the underside of your fingertips. The trimmed hairs on his mustache lightly tickles your skin. He chuckles, eyes meeting yours.

“Espero que tengas razón, querida.”

You smile softly at him as he affectionately kisses your fingertips. You lean in close, nose brushing against his and whisper, “Bésame, Javier.”

He gently guides your fingers to rest along his sharp jawline before he closes the short gap between you and kisses you sweetly. If Javier Peña didn’t have such a demanding job, he would spend all day kissing you like this.

When he pulls away you bring your finger to the tip of his nose and lightly boop it. His face scrunches inwards at your affection.

“Te quiero, mi corazón.”

He always makes a point to tell you that he loves you. It’s important to him, and everything that he believes in. You’re special to him, and if that means he has to put up with a bit of pampering just to see you smile? So be it.

“Te quiero, Jav.” You peck his lips once more before pulling away. “Ready for some self care?”

“¿De verdad tengo elección, hermosa?”

“No.” You grin.

Soon after your dashing DEA agent is stripped down and relaxing comfortably in the tub with his arms resting on either side of the smooth porcelain. The decor in your shared bathroom reflects both of your personalities. Bright, bold, yet comforting. You and Javier both share a deep love for houseplants so it comes as no surprise that your shared bathroom is like a mini version of the Colombian rainforest.

“¿Te metes en la bañera conmigo, querida?” He asks while watching you pull the hem of your shirt over your head.

“Mmm, paciencia, mi amor.”

He huffs at this and settles deeper into the warm water and surrounding bubbles.

Once you’re undressed, you gather up yours and Javi’s clothes and fold them in a neat pile on the closed toilet seat.

He lets out a relaxed hum when he’s finally graced by your familiar presence in the tub while you situate yourself between his strong thighs. You wrap your legs around his torso, your stomach lightly pressed against his as his arms loop around your waist, hands splayed against your lower back. His thumbs gently tracing patterns along your spine as you unscrew the cap on the face mask jar.

“It’s going to feel a bit cold at first, Jav. But I promise you that it’s nice and relaxing. “¿Confías en mí, no?”

“Pues claro que confío en ti, querida.”He nods with a smile tugging against his lips.

You kiss the corner of his mouth before dipping your fingers into the jar collecting a bit of the paste. “Good boy. Close your eyes, okay? Relájate.” You whisper.

Javi’s lashes flutter shut just as you begin to apply the mask to his skin. He makes a grumbled sound from how cold it feels. It’s refreshing, in a sense. But the DEA agent isn’t quite ready to admit that yet.

“¡Joder! Esto está más frío de lo que me esperava.” He hissed between his clenched teeth.

“Sí lo es, pero es un frío resfrecante, ¿no?”

He begrudgingly agrees.

You’re careful to make sure that none of the product accidentally gets into his mustache. He peeks an eye open to see just how focused you are on applying this mask, and his heart swells.

“Javier.” You playfully chide.“No mires.”

He chuckles and slowly lets his hands rest along your hips now and pulls you in closer.

“Eres tan preciosa,cariño. Pero esto huele raro, y hace cosquillas.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at his playful complaining and finish applying the mask. “Muy guapo, Javi.”

“Now it’s your turn to relax, hermosa.” He releases you from his gentle grip and takes the jar from your hands. He brings it up to his nose and takes a quick sniff, shaking his head and muttering under his breath.

“Strawberries? Muy americano.” He teases.

“Says the man who sometimes uses my strawberry scented body wash.” You tease back.

He huffs at this, shaking his head as he looks at you. It’s in that moment that you wish you had a camera just so you could take a picture of him.

“Because it smells like you, querida.” He whispers and begins to gently apply the face mask. His touch is gentle, delicate and even though he tells you to close your eyes, you keep them open just so you can stare at his beautiful face.

While the face masks dry, you find yourself feeding Javier pieces of fruit that you cut up earlier. He makes a suggestive comment of wanting to eat you instead, but you decline and place another sliver of ripe mango between his perfect kissable lips. A bit of juice rolls down the corner of his lips and chin and before he can wipe it away, you lean in and playfully lick up the stray drops.

“Juguetona.” He mutters.

By the time Javier has gotten his fill of fruit, the masks are completely dry and you both gently begin to wash them off. Once your skin is bare, he wastes no time with molding his lips against yours while your arms drape around his neck, fingers sliding through the back of his hair.

“Te necesito, hermosa. Por favor.” He pants softly against your lips.

So, you let him have you.

You don’t think you’ve ever loved a man more than you love Javier Peña when he insists on getting out of the tub first just so he can wrap you up in a towel. He even lets you apply moisturizer to his face before you find yourselves in bed at last.

He’s having his bedtime cigarette while you’re reading your book with your head resting comfortably against his chest.

“Jav?” You ask softly.

“Yes, querida?” He tilts his chin down so he can look at you and blows the smoke off to the side.

“¿Me puedes leer un poco, amor?”

He’s already reaching for your book and gently plucking it from your hands. He knows how much you love his voice, and he’s happy to oblige. He however, hates his reading glasses with a passion, and thinks he looks silly in them. But for you, he’ll do anything to make you happy.

“Hate the way these silly things look on my face.” He huffs as he adjusts his reading glasses on his face.

“Pero estás tan guapo con las gafas puestas, Jav.”

He finishes off his cigarette and douses it in the bedside ashtray before his attention focuses on you once more. His freehand drops down to your face, cupping your jaw gently as he leans down. He kisses you sweetly as his thumb brushes across your cheekbone.

“Y me los pongo sólo para ti, querida.”

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[undercoverpena]

the games we play

Javier Peña x F!Reader

wc: 4k warnings: angst, ex-lovers back to lovers, one bed trope, alludes to smut, but no actual smut, set in narcos season two. summary: He welcomes every touch, every dig of your nail and every placement of your palm. He takes every minute you give him as they turn into hours.  written for @wildemaven and @wildemaven-prompts week 8 [this was meant to be short, i don't know what happened] javier peña masterlist

Sometimes, the heat in Colombia is gentle. 

He has found there can be a breeze, a small break from the sun’s touch. It blows against his shirt and swings against the skirts of dresses. 

Other times, it’s not so gentle. It can be stifling, and suffocating. It lays itself thickly on top of the weight of catching Escobar, bearing down on the uncomfortable tension from being beside someone he’s trying to avoid. 

It makes things worse. 

Tense. Unbearable. 

Like it is today, where the heat and the day have been testing him. Hanging over them, making even breathing strenuous, not allowing him to think straight, and causing his logic and reason to be difficult to grasp.

But then, being around you makes holding onto many things difficult. Made worse by the fact you’re only speaking to him when necessary. Memories of their argument flitting in and out, a constant reminder like a foot on his neck—pressing its weight down more and more. 

Boni— Do not touch me, do not look at me. Actually. Keep out of my way, Peña. I don’t… I don’t want to see you, never mind hear you. 

He’s frustrated—angry. The lead they’d been sent for had fizzled into dust and ash by the time the plane had even lifted off. Leaving them with nothing when they landed. Just some files, misty assumptions and corruption—things he could have examined behind his desk on base. 

Now, the two of you are stuck here. 

The storm brewing in the sky, darkening in the distance—ruining his chance of getting home, away from you. 

It’s why he’s been running his thumb over his two fingers—the other hand massaging the side of his skull. Desperate to ease the tension in his head, the dull ache he has from fighting all his normal reactions.

Your perfume has been wearing him down further. Intensifying in the heat and humidity the storm is causing, all prickling and ready to crash over the city. 

It’s not that one he’s worried about, it’s the one crackling between the two of you. 

It takes more than what he has left, to block it out, to pretend he’s unfazed. 

Normally, he’s happy to be off base. To be in any bed that isn’t that one. But, it’s needling him that he’s here for another night, sitting in failure, knowing there’s nothing he can do about it. From all angles, he is confronted with his mistakes—the dwindling leads, the choices he’s made, and the way he’s hurt you. 

Each time you allow your eyes to meet his, he sees it. Dancing, ever so gently in your irises, even if you try to blink them away. 

He hears you sigh. Hears it over his thoughts, his faux ignorance and forced focus. Having spent more energy than he likes on trying to keep cool, avoid what you’re saying—very quickly, and very fucking loudly—and the feeling of the beads of sweat which pool at the base of his spine. 

If he’s uncomfortable, he can’t envision you are faring much better. Your trousers are tightly fitted, cupping your curves to the point it’s been distracting. Your blouse, though elegant and flowing in places, is also long-sleeved—as if by covering as much skin as possible, he wouldn’t want to look at you. 

Not realising it’s your eyes and smile he fell for first. 

Not that you’re talking to him. In a way, it’s a blessing. He doesn’t need to scramble for an answer, bathe it in politeness before he shoots it your way. He can be sharp and bitter in his mind. Like he had been when you’d mentioned finding a motel to stay the night in. 

You’d apologised to him in English—as if all of this had been your fault—that he would have to stay around you for another day. Something knotting inside of him, desperately wanting to claw out and tell you that he likes being around you, and doesn’t want your apologies. 

He doesn’t say that. He said nothing. 

Now you’re trying to find them a room. Lifting his head, allowing himself a glance at you through his brows, watching as your hand lands on your hip as you continue to question and plead. 

Occasionally, he lets himself hone in on the odd word. Spanish rolling from your tongue with such ease. On any other day, he’d hang off your every word. Now, he tries to block you out as much as possible, fearing the way his mind conjures memories of sounds you made. The sweet ones only he pulled from you. 

The ones he no longer deserves. 

It’s why he hides from you, and buries himself away in a cave of his own making to keep a handle on himself and not ruin whatever is left between you both.  

He’s only just got you back as his colleague. Only just being able to talk to him about work without looking like you’re about to implode. 

Again, not that he blames you. He replays it, turning it over the fight. It flashes like lightning across his thunderous thoughts, clouded images of your sad face that twisted into fury, how your words slowly began to cut, laced with blades.  

Fuck you, Peña. I didn’t ask for this—I knew, I knew you’d do this. And you promised me you wouldn’t hurt me, and yet… you did, you have. 

His thumb slides over the pads of his fingers, catching the calluses and the healed scars. He keeps going, churning your words, over and over, not sure if he’ll be ever able to burn them from his mi—

“Javi…”

Opening his eyes, he finds you. 

Your fingers holding his arm, his own slowly unpeeling themselves from his skull. 

“I… I’ve been calling you for a minute.” 

Javi. You haven’t called him that for a while. Having chosen to call him Peña or fucker—and if necessary, Javier. Javi is what you called him before. When the two of you blurred the lines of colleagues and stepped close to being something more. 

Something he couldn’t give you. Something he tore in two because, of course, he did. 

Tilting your head, you frown, little creases in an otherwise smooth pool. “You good?” 

He drops his hand, half expecting your fingers to fall from him. But they remain. 

Not on the part covered by his short sleeve, but his skin. Skin that he is sure is already warm, but with you touching him, feels like an inferno. Your little prints burning into him, reminding him you’re solid, real—not a fantasy his mind had cruelly conjured to taunt him. 

Rubbing his arm, you offer a smile. “We’re both tired—our flight isn’t for a while, and this place has one room. So.”

You’re too fucking good for me, Bonita.  Yeah, Peña. I fucking am. Yet, here I am and here you are. I shouldn’t be.  Javi, what is going off… why are you here, why are you picking a fight with me, why are you hurting me for the sake of hurting me?

His silence is making it worse. 

He can feel it, see it. How there’s ripples under your mask. Concern bubbling to the surface, making things for him also float to the top. The need to make you smile, to make you laugh—to put you at ease and keep you safe. 

Javi has had those thoughts since the moment he first talked to you. Your spark and fire caught him by surprise, the way you wiggled your hips as you left him at the coffee machine rendering him more than useless. 

If they’re going to be able to survive the night, he has to bury it all. Stuff it so far down, swallowing back everything. It takes a lot to fill his lungs because of it, the air burning his throat as does so, keeping his eyes on you.

Forcing a twist of his lips, he stares into your eyes. Boldly. Maybe too boldly. “You trying to get me to bed, Bonita?” 

You scoff, slowly dropping your hand from his skin, holding the key up in the other. “No. But, knowing you, I know that wouldn’t be hard.”

He feels the space before he truly notices it. How you’d taken a step back, allowing air to flood between you both like a barricade. Then you turn, giving him your back as you jolt your head in the direction of the room. 

He’d looked past the bright pink, looked past the rusting railings because he had envisioned there would be two beds. 

Not exactly imagining in all the Spanish you’d been spitting that you’d have asked for one bed. 

But, there wasn’t. There wasn’t even a couch. Nothing. Just one double bed, two puffed pillows and a folded towel swan at the bottom. 

The room itself isn’t nice either. Bright shades and fuchsia pinks, all matching the chipped wooden door and the horrid railings outside. A part of him wonders why he thought it would be better inside. 

You brush past him, placing your bag down on the end of the bed. If you mind about the room, you say nothing.

Not about the soaring heat, the one bed or that you’re now sharing a room with him. He wants to ask, ensure you’re comfortable—that you don’t mind him being here. 

Not entirely sure what he’d do if you said no. 

You’ve only just begun talking to him directly, and not through Steve. Steve who had warned him and he hadn’t listened. “She’s good, Javi. Don’t fuckin’ ruin it by being you”. And he had. Trapping Steve in the middle until you begun to wear thin with Chinese whispers. It took so long, he almost forgot how to speak when you finally were able to string a sentence together without looking close to stabbing him. 

Javi knows he only has himself to blame. He’s aware of it—feeling it thrumming around him, whether or not your eyes cut into him. 

Look, you don’t want me, that’s fine. I’m a big fucking girl. But you don’t get to sniff around like some wounded fuck because someone else does. You don’t get to turn up when I’m enjoying myself and ruin it. 

If anything, Javi is used to making things worse in his personal life. He knows that he’s good with his hands, but not his words. That if you asked he could build you furniture, or put up a shelf; he knows how to please you, pull noises and expressions from you with his tongue alone. If he wasn’t so broken, he could be good for you. Not good enough, but be good. 

But, he isn’t. 

“You need the bathroom?” 

He looks up, finding you holding a smaller bag. “N-no. You go ahead.” 

You nod, motioning past him as he clears his throat. Wiping his bottom lip, he adds, “Look, tonight you have the bed—“

“Or, we can be adults and you can share a bed with me…” 

He swallows, watching you pause at the bathroom door, standing a little taller. 

Something he’s noticed you do more and more, having not been able to take his eyes off you. Not that he ever really has, since he met you. Watching the way you move around, the way you purposefully avoid even the space he’s in.

Fuck, you were maddening. Beautifully maddening to the point now, when he couldn’t have you, you have consumed everything. 

He deserves it, deserves worse—he deserves poisonous words and sharper glares. 

Now, though, you aren’t giving him that. Your look is more gentle. One he used to get, before…

“Peña, do you want this to be even more unbearable… and if you want to punish yourself, fine, sleep on the floor,” you sigh, swallowing the rest of your words as you lift your shoulders. “But, I’m not asking you to. If you want to be an adult, share the damn bed with me.”

His lips twitch, his hands moving to his hips. “You sure… about sharing the bed?” 

You offer a small smile, one that’s forced, but still there. “You know I don’t bite.” 

“You do kick, though.” 

You laugh, sharp—almost blending perfectly with a puff of air. “Don’t you forget it, either.”

“Wouldn’t dare, Bon…”

He lets the words trail off. The pet name he calls you comes too easily to his tongue. Dissolving into the air, feeling your eyes wash over him before the click of the bathroom door sounds. 

He can smell your shampoo. It’s that which stirs him from his sleep. 

He peers from the corner of his eyes, noticing the room is still smothered in half-darkness—the motel lighting blaring through the shit, thin curtains. 

The scent continues to tickle his nose. It’s a small respite from the smell of spice from the room service hours ago. The food hanging as heavy in the air as it made him feel when he consumed it. 

It takes a second, maybe a second too long, to realise you’re curled into him. He feels your breath dancing along his chest, realising his arm is around you, keeping you in place—chin on top of your head, just like the two of you have done with ease before. 

Just like the first time, your bodies betrayed you both then, as they are now. 

You stained him, imprinted on him. Made it easier to sleep, your warmth has never been too much, but always the perfect amount. Your head is never too heavy, but a weight he welcomes. And has missed. 

Get in the car.  No, fuck you. You’re the one who said this wasn’t serious. Bonita, get in the—  You have no right, Javi. Take your chivalry and your car, and go fuck yourself. 

He feels you move your hips closer, brushing over his other hand. It allows him, without trying, to fan his fingers more over your hip. Feeling the softness of your skin, the curve of you—his fingers lightly, and gently squeezing. 

It’s experimental, full of unsureness. Something he’s never known for, but you make him a wreck. 

Make him question things. Make him want things he’s not craved in a long time. 

So he begins sliding his fingers over your hip, unsure if you’re awake. The thin oversized tee you’re sporting is the only barrier from your chest being flush against his, raised above your hip, his fingers catching the hem of it occasionally. 

He should put space between the two of you. Should unfurl himself from you before you wake and realise what is happening. 

Before he sees that look in your eye. The one a perfect blend of ice and betrayal—topped off with a slice of hurt. He breaks good things, he’s realised. He doesn’t deserve nice souls and a person waiting for him. He’s impatient, selfish and… making so many wrong decisions. 

It’s why he hasn’t challenged it, your decision. 

Why he stood and said nothing when you hurled abuse at him in the street. He took each verbal punching, knowing the things he’s doing—knowing the danger he’d have been putting you in. 

That night, when you didn’t answer. You weren’t at Steve’s were you? Were you?  No. 

He’s been haunted by you outside of work, not just in it. Images of you, scarlet staining your clothes, limbs bent in ways they should never be. Either that or you appear in his head when he’s in the shower, when his hand is on someone else’s bare hip, frustrated they don’t feel or sound like you, frustrated he can’t finish because he misses you. Misses how good you feel, how you make him feel. 

Javi has spent more energy trying to fuck you from his system than he had done trying to keep you in it originally. Something he is more aware of right now, than he was on all the other lonely nights.

It’s why he doesn’t dare move, almost afraid as to what he’ll be confronted with if he wakes you. If your eyes would be murderous, burning a new print for him to hang in the misery museum he’s forged in his head. 

Whether they’d be soft… almost worrying if they’d be welcoming, not sure he’ll be able to be selfless and noble again. 

He should remove his hand. He should place the blanket, which neither of you wants to have over you, firmly between you. Barricade himself from you, stop you from falling and him being unable to catch you. 

Your breath dances over his chest, and he strokes ever so slightly on your hip. 

“Is now when you’d want me to bite, Javi?”

Your voice is a whisper. 

But he hears them as clear as if you’d shouted them. 

You let them land before you lift your face from his neck. You’re so close, the gap so minimal, so easy to close. 

He tenses, for the briefest moment, because of it.

“Bonita…”

“Kiss me, Javi.” 

He has you on your back before his name is even in the air, crashing his lips against yours, hearing the surprised muffled sound bleeding out from between both of your mouths. 

It unlocks it, everything he’s stuffed into the box in his chest. His hand sliding up your neck to grip your jaw, the bed groaning as he leans down over you, kissing you desperately—needing to make up for all the minutes he didn’t. He devours, he thirsts, and he wants all at once as he slides his hand up your thigh, lifting it over his hip. 

Thankfully you pull him close, tight—leaving no space for question or doubt. Your hands loop around the back of his neck, nails scratching at the base of his hair as your thighs press against his hips. 

His teeth run along your jaw, the tip of his tongue leaving evidence of his path. Your soft murmurs, pleases and Javi’s circling around the two of you. 

All he can think is: you taste like sweet, sugar and goodness. It’s a juxtaposition to his smokes, to the liquor normally on his tongue. Another reminder of how good you are, the cracks you proclaim you have so minimal, he barely sees them. 

He just sees you. 

Strong, beautiful you, who has a sharper tongue than most suits; a hook that forces blue and black to spread before someone even knows they’ve been hit. You’re all brains and strategy, and yet you’re also the most intoxicating thing he’s ever undressed. 

And so, he cages you in, unwilling, and unwanting to ever let someone else taste what he gets to. Keeping you close right now as though it can undo all the times he’s taken you for granted.  

“Mine,” he whispers against your neck. 

Unmeaning to. The word escaping. Making him freeze and you tense. He’s nervous, for the billionth time when he’s with you, he’s nervous as he meets your gaze. 

What he finds isn’t shock, but slight narrowed eyes and twisted swollen lips all illuminated in a reddish-pink hue from the outside. 

Tracing your knuckles down his cheek, your back arches into him, tracing your bottom lip with your tongue. “Prove it then.” 

And he does. 

His mouth tastes every inch of you, his ears take in every noise he hadn’t been sure he’d ever hear again. He welcomes every touch, every dig of your nail and every placement of your palm. He takes every minute you give him as they turn into hours. 

But, what he savours is the way you beg for more, how you chant his name. How your hand holds his jaw, muffling your moans against his lips as he fills you—feeling pride ballooning in his chest as you moan his name over and over again. 

Javi isn’t sure how much sleep the two of you manage. Not that he cares, and not that you’re complaining either. He groans when you slide from his arms, the sun rearing its ugly head through the curtains.

You smirk, and it does something to him as you begin getting ready. Something which makes him want to throw back the sheets and put you on your back again.

But you must read him—see right into his head. Not that he fights you to stay out. 

“We have a flight to catch.” 

“We still have time.” 

“Not the way we do it, we don’t.” 

So he relents. Choosing instead to watch you. Take in every glimpse of you he can get. Watching as you style and dress in the mirror, eyes occasionally meeting him as he feels himself smile. 

He wants to suggest not leaving, for a moment not wanting to entertain what goes off outside of these walls. He could rip up the tickets for their flights and keep the room for another night. Avoid the issues back where they work. The pressure, Escobar… Los Pepes. 

Javi doesn’t do that. Moving closer to you, half-wanting to just pull you close. Feel the way you fit against him, how perfect you do. 

He runs his hand down your wrist, wrapping his fingers around the strap of your bag. Lingering in your space, watching your lips curl, seeing the outline of himself in your lusting eyes as he presses you against the wall. 

“Javi…” 

“We have time, Bonita. I promise,” he whispers in Spanish, dropping your bag softly as he slides his hands around your hips. 

You don’t fight him. 

Sliding your arms around his neck, lips ghosting over his before you blink—and something shifts. 

“Javi… Look, before we get back and things… get complicated. I don’t want more from you than we can both give. My job, I love my job, Javi. I know you do too, I know you need to catch him...”

It’s changing, switching up in front of him. 

“What are you saying?” 

It comes out more defensive—tense. Suddenly feeling you're slipping through his fingers, for reasons far out of his control. For reasons he hasn't even caused.

He watches as you bite the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want you to bring me coffee, I don't want dinners and... I just want the us we were before, without the…”

You’re stressed. He can feel it. It vibrates in the air until he smooths his fingers over your cheek, soothing you in the only way he can.

“It’s okay…”

“I want to be yours, Javi. But, I don’t want us to change, not while we have things to do.” 

Placing his hand on your hip, he watches as your lips twitch. 

His pulse quickens, watching you take a heavy breath. “I know we don’t have more to give one another until he’s caught. And I’m okay with that. As long as…”

It trails off, your words. Your eyes glare as if you can burn the unspoken words in without needing to say them. 

He make you feel good, Bonita? Did he— You don’t get to act jealous when you were cock deep in a whore when I needed you, Javier. 

“Long as, what, Bonita?” 

You avert your eyes.

And he knows before you ask. He remembers it. Recalls seeing the number of missed calls and realising that you’d needed him. The hurt on your face, the look in your eyes.  

“Please don’t fuck any more whores. You called me yours last night, Javi. So don’t—“

“Only if you don’t go on any more dates with fuckers who don’t deserve you,” he says, fingers under your chin as he lifts your eyes back. 

Please. He adds with his eyes. 

You hold his gaze, slowly nodding before you softly smile. One he likes to think is all his. It holds his attention when it’s there, lighting him up, and spreading warmth through him.  

Both sitting in silent agreement, his fingers softening on your chin as he draws a line with his thumb. 

“If we do this, you and me, there can’t be secrets between us. Not like before.” 

Something twists inside of him. 

“I was the one who stole your cigarettes,” you confess, his eyes narrowing teasingly, as you pout. 

He kisses you, soft, and gentle. “I’ll forgive you.” 

“Your turn, is there anything you need to tell me before we leave?”

His face blanks—empties. The bundle of secrets swirl in his stomach, knotting around organs and guilt and the salty chips and chocolate from last night. 

For a moment, he thinks about it. Spilling all of it out, poisoning the moment and ruining what the two of you have only just managed to rebuild. His lips part ever so slightly, almost allowing the acidic ball in his throat to escape. It's all set to slip out and greet your ears. 

But he swallows it. Hides it. 

Shaking his head, he leans his forehead against yours. “Only that I’ve missed you, Bonita.”

Your hand clutches his cheek, cupping him gently. “I’ve missed you too, Javi.” 

#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

[agentmarcuspike]

let me fade away

dark!javier peña x f!reader

warnings: noncon (dead dove, do not eat), unprotected piv, oral (m), swallowing, drug use, public bathroom, degradation, bruising, crying, abuse of power, pain word count: ~ 1.8k a/n: this was written as a sort of... f'ed up therapy for myself, but you're still allowed to think it's hot. hopefully you do. a mix of hot and heart-wrenching ♡

The pad of your index finger rubs the rough texture of your tongue as you wet it before digging into the little plastic bag in your hand. White powder sticks to the moisture, and you put the finger back in your mouth, smearing the dust across the inside of your upper lip, where the tops of your teeth meet the gum. Your own reflection looks back at you from the plastic mirror of the club’s only bathroom. Eyes glazed over, dry and tired, you will yourself not to blink until you recognize yourself.

You repeat the action, leaving the finger in your mouth this time, sucking on it lasciviously. It takes you a second to realize someone is clawing at the lock from the outside, and before you can pull it together and put the bag back in your bra, the lock clicks and the door slams open.

The man in the doorway locks eyes with you immediately. Moving his gaze downwards, first to the finger you’re still sucking on, too shocked to move a muscle, and then to the bag of drugs in your other hand. When he looks back up to you, his mouth twitches into a wicked smile, mustache twitching with it.

He shoots a glance over his shoulder, and repositions himself to make sure he covers the doorway with his broad frame.

“Powdered sugar?” he jokes, no humor in his voice.

You finally open your mouth and wipe the saliva from the finger on your skirt.

Only nodding in response, he huffs, forcing his way inside the already cramped room, before closing the door behind him. The lock clicks shut. He takes half a step forward. There’s no room for you to escape, and your back hits the cold tile of the wall immediately.

You try to steady your breathing, heart racing due to the drugs or the man, you're not sure, maybe both. Through the stench of piss, you smell him. He smells strongly of cigarettes, with a hint of a heavy aftershave, and as he moves even closer, you can smell his leather jacket too.

“You’ve been a very bad girl, haven’t you,” he murmurs, tilting his head down from where he towers over you. Refusing to look him in the eyes, you focus your eyes on everything else. The top three buttons of his shirt undone. The broken zipper on his jacket. The way his belly protrudes slightly over his belt. The groin of his jeans where– Your breath hitches when you realize what you’re looking at. He’s hard.

In a panic your head shoots up as a gasp escapes you. You can’t avoid his gaze now. He’s grinning.

“Wanna help me out with that?” You shake your head profusely. “No?”

You want to look away, but his big hand cups your chin, forcing you to keep looking at him.

“Your pupils say otherwise. They’re big as fucking dinner plates.” A snicker as he carefully brushes a strand of hair away from your face. Then he leans down, his lips so close to your ear you can feel the dampness from his breath as he whispers: “I think you want it.”

His eyes don’t flicker as his huge hand envelops yours.

“You like it dirty, don’t you?” He guides your hand to palm him through his jeans. “I know, I saw you. Doing drugs in bathrooms, sucking on your fingers.” The feel of him twitching under your touch is almost arousing, in a humiliating way. His chest is so close you can feel his every breath, and he grinds himself into your palm, still holding you in place, his grip unrelenting.

“If you suck on something else for me, I might let your little misdemeanor slip.”

“You wanna be a good girl for me and do that?” You whisper a 'no', so weak it's barely audible. “No…?” he continues. “Knew you were a bad girl. And bad girls need discipline.”

He grabs your hips and spins you around, shoving you violently back into the wall. Holding your head in place, cheek pressed against the cold tiles, his other hand makes quick work of yanking your underwear off. You gasp as the material digs harshly into your skin before tearing with a sharp rip.

“Is all your underwear this cheap?” he mutters with an impatient grunt, throwing the fabric to the floor. Using his shoe to move it around, the thin material soaks up piss and water, before he kicks it out of the way. “Not good for your pussy,” he says as he grabs your hips, pinching and scratching as you try to wiggle out of his grip.

Your ass is bare, skirt bunched up around your waist. The coarse material of his jeans as he grinds against you leaves your skin red and raw, sore from scrapes and scratches made by his metal zipper.

For a second he lets go, long enough for you to gasp for air, only for his elbow to harshly dig in between your shoulder blades while he uses his free hand to open his belt buckle and free himself. 

As you hear him spit into his hand and shove it in between the wall and your body, you close your eyes in shame. There’s no hiding the wetness that had gathered between your legs before he entered the room. Your skin is twice as sensitive as usual, but where a touch would usually soothe, even feel good, he makes it burn.

A groan escapes him as his fingers find you drenched. “Wow…” he sighs into your hair, chest flush to your back. “You make this too easy, querida.” 

For a few seconds the only things you can hear are the thumping bass from the speakers in the club, your own heartbeat in your ears, and the obscene sound of your own slick being smeared around the man’s cock. 

And then it’s all replaced by a ringing in your ears as he forces himself inside of you. It takes him two thrusts to be fully sheathed in your heat. He keeps shoving himself in and out, and you feel him all the way in your stomach, in your throat. His length forces tears out from behind your eyes, and you let them wet your dry lips as you gasp at each forward buck of his hips.

His pubic bone ruts painfully against your spine as he buries himself deeper, deeper, impossibly deeper. You’ve never felt this full. You know you shouldn’t like this. And you don’t, but you do, and your body betrays you as you let out something that sounds more like a moan than a whimper. 

The noise has his hand on your throat in an instant, fingers clenching around your windpipe. He pulls your head towards him, the back of your head colliding painfully with his collar bone. “Careful, baby… Keep it down.” His voice is strained, and he leans his head on yours, sharp chin leaving secret bruises underneath your hair.

Your head is foggy with pain or with pleasure, you’re not sure anymore whether you want it to endure or end. Everything aches, your teeth, even your nails. You wish you had something to bite into, but you’re clenching your jaw so hard you’re not sure you could open your mouth if you wanted to. 

Without more warning than a grunt, the man pulls out and flips you around to face him. You take in his disheveled hair and wild eyes. His lips are slightly parted as he looks at you for a second, before his hands grip your shoulders and he pushes you down on your knees. His fingers pry your jaws apart, and for a second you’re grateful.

“Look at me,” he demands. He caresses your lower lip with a calloused thumb. Peering up at him, a lump forms in your throat. His dark eyes are glazed over, and you’re not sure whether he’s looking at you or your gaping mouth. 

Gripping the back of your head with one hand and his cock with the other, he pushes himself down your throat before you can protest. You gag around his length, spit and tears meeting on your chin. His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling, tearing until you’re sure he'll rip your scalp from your skull.

It’s just a few more seconds before he abruptly pulls your head back, leaving only the head of his cock in your mouth as he shoots ropes of hot cum down your throat in quick bursts. You feel him throb and twitch on your tongue while he groans above you. In a startlingly thoughtful gesture, he wipes away the tears from your cheeks with his thumb. He lifts the finger to his mouth and licks it, swallowing your tears as he closes your mouth and makes you swallow his spend. 

His movements are slower now, more careful, but just as decisive. Hooking his hands around your biceps, he pulls you to your feet, and holds you steady while your shaking legs find the ground underneath you. Exhaustion crashes over you. Your head falls forwards, crashing into the man’s chest, and your body threatens to collapse. 

“Look at me,” he repeats, sternly now, not forcefully. He pushes you away from him slightly so he can lift your chin up with a finger. His stare is sharp, eyes boring into you as if looking for something. “I’m calling you a cab.” 

And with that, he lets go of you, and turns on his heel to open the door. The booming music from outside fills your ears as you watch his broad back disappear, and without as much as another glance towards you, the door closes behind him.

Alone again, reality washes over you. You turn to look in the mirror, and someone else is looking back at you. Their eyes are red and puffy, one cheek marked with indents from the lines between wall tiles. Hair a mess, make-up smudged. Your tongue is heavy in your mouth, and when you swallow harshly, the taste of his bitter spend is still strong in your dry mouth.

Your hands grip the porcelain sink, and you bend over, hurling. Clumps of white is mixed with the liquids filling the sink, and you gag over and over, until the only thing you can taste is acid.

A quick rap on the door startles you, and a bouncer enters without warning. Seeing your disheveled state and the sick threatening to spill from the sink, he grabs your arm, pulling you out with him.

“I think you’ve had enough for tonight,” he says as he shepherds you towards the exit, leaving you alone on the pavement outside. 

You take a shaky breath of cold air. The night outside feels quiet, the sounds of city life distant and distorted. A taxi honks its horn at you, and a man yells from the driver's side, asking you if you’re the one he’s waiting for. 

Flattening your skirt, you shake your head, and walk the other way.

a/n: header by me, divider by @cafekitsune

#javi pena fanfiction #tw noncon #javi pena x reader #javi pena x you #javi peña fanfiction #dark javier peña #dark fanfiction #javier peña x reader #javier pena smut #i have no idea whether people use ñ or just n when searching or if it matters #my writing

[trulybetty]

10 x cards - javi peña x reader

prompt: cards pairing: javi peña x reader word count: 337 notes: fluff, grump peña with a side of maybe a little hint of romantic peña? no y/n & no physical descriptions of reader summary: javi has his moments, sometimes

A/N: this was one of the first ideas when I saw the prompts list, so this was from my original notes when I was debating if I wanted to do this challenge

x. masterlist

You stared at the white envelope that had been unceremoniously dropped in front of you from above. The chicken scratch of your name on the front gave it away who it was from before you even looked up from your coffee to see who was there.

“Is this what I think it is?”

“Don’t get used to it,” he practically grunted back as he pulled out a chair to sit opposite you.

Amused, you placed down your coffee cup and reached out for the stark white envelope, the smile on your face wide when you realised it actually was what you had guessed.

He tried to take it back, “If you’re going to mock me, I’ll just take it back!” but you were quicker and clutched the card to your chest.

“I'm not mocking you,” you chuckled, holding the envelope out of his reach. “I'm genuinely touched, really. I can't believe you actually got me a card.”

He scoffed and looked away, trying to hide the faint hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Well, don't make a big deal out of it. It's just a dumb Valentines card. They're a dime a dozen.”

He looked slightly flustered, averting his gaze for a moment before meeting your eyes again. His tough exterior seemed to soften just for a fraction as he watched anxiously.

You chuckled at his attempt to hide his true intentions. With anticipation, you carefully tore open the envelope and unfolded the card inside. The sound of his heavy sigh filled the air as you read the heartfelt message written in his distinctive handwriting.

With the card pressed against your chest, a genuine smile spread across your face. “Thank you Javi,” you said, your voice full of affection, “you old romantic you,” you added with a wink.

You could see the redness creeping up his cheeks as he responded with a small laugh, “I'm serious, don't expect this to happen again.” But despite his words, his smile gave away his true feelings.

#x29 valentines #javi peña #javi peña fanfiction #javi peña fanfic #javi peña x you #javi peña x reader #javi peña x gn!reader #javi peña x f!reader #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

[softstarlite]

The Casualty of Love

CHAPTER 5

Summary: He's back home. You have almost forgotten how warm his eyes were and how big your crush for him was.

Warnings: Age gap (Javi is 40 and reader is 27), smut, oral f!receiving, fingering, unprotected P in V (don't be stupid like them and wrap it up), reader is on the pill, creampie, slight praise link, some cockiness from both Javi and reader, yet again another interruption from the icon itself Chucho in an important moment. (Let me know if I missed any warnings)

Rating: +18 (explicit)

Word Count: 2.9K

Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Masterlist

A/N: Here you guys have chapter 5. This is my first time ever writing smut so I would gladly take constructive criticism, please be nice about it :-) Hope you guys like it!! Love you amores and thank you for being patient! I made it a little longer to compensate <3 <3

Divider by @saradika

You arrive at the Peña ranch around 4 pm; as you get out of your car you see that Chucho is exactly where you knew he'll be, sitting on the porch with a beer in his hand, enjoying his well earned break from the ranch chores.

“Hey viejito!” you greet him while closing the car door.

“Oh hi mija!” he greets back, raising the beer bottle towards you “Again here? Vamos a tener que empezar a pagarte (we'll have to start paying you)” he chuckles.

“Sabe que nunca se lo aceptaría (you know i'd never accept it) I love helping here, been doing since i could walk” you send him a playful wink, both of you knowing that back then you were playing more than helping but Chucho would've never complain about it, he adored having you around.

He laughs, takes his hat off and fans himself with it “true, true. Well then go along honey, you can help Javi feed the horses at the barn, así se resguarda del este jodido calor (that way you'll shelter yourself from this damn heat)”

You give him a quick nod “Ay, Ay, captain” you say signaling with two fingers at your forehead and then turning around and walking towards the barn. Once inside you close the door behind you, so the heat wouldn't come inside and bother the horses. You see the horses already munching the hay away, but you already knew that's what you´d be finding when coming in here; you take off your boots and leave them where you´ll remember it. You climb to the upper part of the barn and then you finally see what, or better, who you were looking for.

Javi is there sitting on a bale of hay, looking down at the watch on his wrist, the action making the hat over his head shelter the face that you like so much from you. You sometimes can't help asking yourself how he didn't get killed while on the DEA with how easy it was for you to sneak up on him. You decide to lean on a wooden pillar and cross your arms over your chest then you clear your throat making Javier´s head shoot up.

“God, finally…” he groans but you´re not sure if it's from annoyance or the noise his knees make when he gets up from the bale.

“You´re too dramatic, i'm only a few minutes late” you instantly smile as soon as his whole presence envelops you when he comes in front of you putting his hands on your waist.

“Haven't you heard that time is gold” he says looking you up and down. You can't help but to roll your eyes even if the smile on your face doesn't disappear.

Your hands travel to the front of his short sleeved red button up where you fist the fabric and make him lean on you to link your lips with his. While your tongues get acquainted with each other, his hands travel to your hips and then to your ass, where he squeezes it and groans into your mouth then pulls away from it.

“Cariño, couldn't you have worn one of those pretty dresses I love? It would make this so much easier and quicker” he says with almost desperation in his eyes.

“Sure, Javi, cause me coming to the ranch to help with chores in a dress would be veeeery believable” you say while unbuttoning his shirt and running a hand over every bit of his chest that is revealed.

“Bebita, I'm sure that with you flashing just one of your gorgeous smiles would be enough for my pops to not question anything you do” he says while working on the button and zipper of your denim shorts.

You both don't say anything more about it, especially now that Javi has made work of your shorts and has pulled them down your legs, making you step out of them.

He groans when he sees your lacy underwear, still kneeling from helping you out of your shorts “Fuck cariño, you wore these just for me?” he runs a finger under the waistband of your lace panties from one hip to the other while looking up to you with dark eyes. You just nod while inevitably biting your lower lip.

He curses once more and takes the waistband of the lacy underwear with his two hands now and starts to drag it down your legs without taking his eyes from you. The speed in which he makes the action is utterly torture.

“Javi…” you whine with more neediness in your voice than you intended.

“Paciencia cariño (Patience sweetheart)” he says while making eye contact with the wetness between your legs. He's not sure if he is torturing you or him more; with the way his cock was tenting his jeans, he would guess the answer is himself.

He traces your folds with two fingers, you sigh in relief immediately even if It still didn't feel like enough.

In the past two weeks since the barbecue at Doña Lucia´s, you and Javi have been finding little moments to indulge in each other, you both even had a chance to have something similar to a date when Chucho asked Javi a week ago if he could pick up some things from a nearby town that he had ordered and you offered yourself immediately to help him, showing a big concern for Javi´s back in chance for some alone time away from the worry of getting caught. You guys talked all the way there, getting to know the people you had become during your time apart, after picking up what you went there for, he insisted to buy you lunch, so you did, and to finish on the way back to Laredo you had to stop on the side of the road because you both didn't want to end the day without feeling each other in every way possible.

When Javi´s mouth finally makes contact with you, you have to press a hand over your mouth to silence the moan coming from it, your other hand finding home in his hair. Every time Javi touched you in any way you could swear you would die but at the same gave you more life, it was like anything that you ́ve ever felt in your entire life.

“Fuck, cariño, the sweetest thing I´ve ever had” he says looking up into your eyes when he detaches from you to bring two fingers to your entrance.

Your eyes roll back and your hand leaves your face to cling the wooden pillar behind you.

“What, el gato te comió la lengua, cariño? (did the cat eat your tongue, sweetheart?)” he says to you with a fucking smirk that you are going to wipe out of his face. You bring your left foot up, bringing it to his crotch that you rub with it. As soon as you do it, the smirk on his face disappears into an open mouth, breathing heavily.

“Te ha comido la lengua el gato, Javi? (Has the cat eaten your tongue, Javi?)” you use his own teasing back at him, trying to give him a smirk but when he moves his fingers deeper into you, only a moan comes out of your lips.

“I'm sorry, what was that sweetheart?” the smirk comes back to his face but not as big as before, more open mouthed. Your hand goes from his curls to his forearm to grip it, you´re not even sure if to keep him there or to pull him away.

“F-fuck Javi…” you close your eyes and push your head back into the wooden pillar. You know Javi has now stood up from his kneeling position, not just from the sound his knees make but also because the action makes your foot fall to the ground.

“Uh-uh bebita” he takes your chin with his free hand, bringing your head back towards him, which makes you open your eyes “eyes on me hermosa, eyes on me” he instructs you and of course you obey, like you had any other option right now, like you would choose any other option.

You just nod however you can with your chin still in his hand, and moan.

“Now i want you to come on my fingers before i fuck you, okay bebita?” he says without taking his eyes away from yours, and you could swear you could come just by looking at them. You, obviously, nod once more, and then you feel his thumb make contact with your clit, circling it with the perfect amount of pressure. In the little time that two weeks are, Javier has somehow learned how to take you apart at the speed he wishes every single time.

You start to feel that knot forming in your lower stomach, making you lean your forehead into his “I'm so close baby…” you are able to somehow form the words even if you can promise that your mind is lost completely.

“Deja que pase hermosa (let it happen beautiful), i got you” the pressure on your clit increases and that's what makes the knot unravel. Javi has to kiss you to silence the beautiful sounds that you´re making. He stops the movements of his fingers inside of you but he doesn't stop the movements over your clit, helping you come down off your high.

As soon as his hand leaves your cunt, you´re reaching for his belt, trying to unbuckle it with way too eager hands.

Javi can´t help to chuckle teasingly “that needy for my cock bebita?” he asks you with a raised eyebrow.

“If you prefer it, I can just get my shorts back up and leave, and you deal with this” you say, introducing a hand inside his jeans, finding no underwear under them as always, and grabbing his cock “by yourself” you say with smugness.

He grunts and helps you pull his jeans down his legs; he then pulls up your tank top so it rests over your breasts and brings one of them to his mouth while one of his hands brings your left leg to his hip, to make room for himself.

“I'm not going to last very long today, cariño” he informs you while his fingers roll one of your pebbled nipples between them.

“Good, cause I'm sure we don't have much more time left” you grab his wrist to look at his watch which confirms your words, then you grab his butt with both hands and push him towards you so he gets the message.

He finally does it; he leaves your nipples and grabs himself, bringing it to your cunt and pushing into you, making you stretch so delicious, just like every time. You both let out a big breath and stay still to get used to the godly feeling.

After a few seconds, he starts to move, at first at a slow pace that makes you feel every inch of him caress your walls; then, when he groans in your ear and bites your shoulder, he begins to thrust at a killing pace.

“Fuck cariño, you feel too good” he moans and grips your hips with a strength that you know will leave bruises because it has already happen several times in the last two weeks “I need you to come again on my cock before i come, you think you can do that for me bebita?”

Before Javi, you were lucky if a guy would make you come once during sex, most of your orgasms would come from your own hands or from your trusted vibrator; but since your first time with Javier you were surprise to see that what gives him more pleasure is to give you it, he made sure each time to make you come at least once, which normally wasn't enough for him.

Your heart had already made the decision of giving Javi everything that his own heart desired if it was in your hands, so you really didn't have a chance to say no.

You sneak a hand in between your bodies and bring it to your clit, where you rub in circles, to help yourself concede his wish. Between that and the amazing feeling of him drilling into you, you start to feel that knot tightening again. You moan once and knowing that they were more to come from how close to the edge you feel, you bring one of Javi´s hands to your mouth to cover it and then put your free hand on his curls, gripping them which makes him moan himself as you've learnt.

“I can feel how close you are cariño, pussy´s choking me, come on bebita come on, be a good girl and soak my cock” it's his filthy mouth that makes the knot unravel again and your second orgasm blinds you for a moment, your walls clenching around him, pulling him with you, making him groan and moan as he still as deep he can go inside of you and paints your walls. Thank god to the person that invented the pill.

Javi´s hand leaves your mouth as soon as your jaw relaxes; he rests his forehead in yours while you both try to catch your breath. You peck his lips and chuckle “better every single time, somehow” he chuckles as well at your statement.

Javier feels wrong every time he's not able to give you any proper aftercare… Even in Colombia, his informants would get a few seconds of cuddling and a washcloth if they asked for it, and you definitely meant more to him than any informant ever did.

You both get dressed again, you help him with his jeans so he doesn't have to crouch down for them. While he is finishing to button up his shirt, without counting the two or three buttons that he always leaves unbutton of course, you approach him and start to run your hands through his hair, trying to get his beautiful curls back on their place.

He abandons his button to look at you like you´re hanging the damn sky. His hand comes to your waist, where he squeezes softly to get your attention away from his hair and into him.

“Let me take you out” he says straightforwardly, nothing else. Javi hadn't been able to stop thinking about your almost date. He had already made peace with the fact that a good life wasn't for him, that he didn't deserve it, the first sign was when his mom got diagnosed, then when Lorraine told him about the baby he thought for a moment that everything could be fine, but then Lorraine told him the truth and it was like another sign of it. And after everything he had to do in Colombia, every decision he made, he was even more sure that a good life wasn't planned for him, but god ever since that day in the parking lot, every time he looks at you he can feel it, hope in the middle of his chest.

You furrow your eyes and open your mouth to answer him but before you could do it, you both hear the barn door being open, obviously by Chucho. You take Javi´s wrist and check the time again, Chucho´s usual break time was over, you both had gotten lost on time. You look up at Javi with widened eyes and he whispers curses. You start to look around you guys, and when you see the barn window that you were 80% sure had bales of hay underneath it, you take his face between your hands.

“You trust me?” you don't take your eyes off him. He nods and you hear Chucho call for the both of you “Mijo? Chiquitita?”

You give his lips a quick peck “Go down to your dad and say i'm with the cattle” you don't leave room for him to respond to you; you softly push him in the direction of the ladder.

He climbs the ladder down whilst shouting “coming!” to his pops. You run to the window and look through it, when you see that thankfully you were right about the bales of hay, you look behind you over your shoulder, hearing for a moment the conversation between Chucho and Javier.

“She said she wanted to go see and greet the cattle” Javi explains to his dad with a shrug, he knew that it was a good excuse, since you´ve been doing exactly that for many many years.

You finally look back through the window and take a deep breath, closing your eyes and asking whoever was out there to not let you get injured. You open your eyes and make the jump, but you haven't planned for the sound that your body colliding with the bales would make, you scrunch your nose at not only the sound but also the pain of it.

Both Javi and Chucho hear it, they turn their heads towards the direction of the noise, Javi intuiting where or who it came from but Chucho furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

#narcos #chucho peña narcos #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #javier pena narcos #javier pena fic #javier pena x f!hispanic reader #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x female reader #javier peña fic #javier peña narcos #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña x f!hispanic reader #javi pena fanfiction #javi peña fanfiction #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña #javier pena #the casualty of love #pedrohub

[ariundercovers]

Yellow Light (When Paths Cross Pt. VI, Javier Peña x Reader)

Pairing: Javier Peña x Afab!Reader (No use of y/n!)

Length: ~3.5k words

Series Summary: Chucho's been like a father figure to you since he helped you out of a sticky situation on your second day in Laredo. What happens when you finally meet his son, the former-DEA agent, who just happens to ignite you in a way that you haven't felt before?

Chapter Summary: Valentine's Day and an (accidental) confession.

Chapter Warnings: good mix of porn and plot in this one again. p in v, pulling out, Javi being a needy demon, spanish nicknames, eating ass (yeah you heard that right), butt stuff, very light dp, javi lacks impulse control. some more brief angst that resolves very quickly.

If you're so inclined, please drop a like and a reply/reblog! I live for your feeback, and it keeps me going and keeps me writing. Did you like it? love it? hate it? I want to hear all of your thoughts!

PREVIOUS PART (V) HERE

You fall into an easy routine for a long while. After another month or two of Sundays at the Peña house, Fridays at yours, days throughout the week where you met for lunch or coffee, you were feeling confident in the place of your relationship. 

You never would’ve guessed you might have found someone here, in Laredo, of all places, but you can’t say that you’re unhappy about it, either. Javi brought a vitality to your life that it turns out you had been sorely missing without even knowing it.

You spend time trying all kinds of things together - hiking, horseback riding, rock climbing. All activities he’s mostly a professional at already, but you’re happy to learn, and happy to watch how successful he is as you barely figure out the basics for yourself. You especially enjoy learning how to ride a horse properly - Javi grew up on horses, using them on the ranch to lead the cattle where they needed to go. He shows you all the ropes, makes sure you’re comfortable and safe before he takes you out on your first ride across the property.

You’re starting to really think that this might go somewhere, that this might be it for you. You think he might be the love of your life - not that you’d tell him that, not yet at least. He’d probably think you were crazy and run away. But you couldn’t begin to deny the way he made you feel - the way he swept you off your feet with every word, every look, every gesture. It was hypnotizing, and you were lost to all things Javier Peña.

Maybe you were crazy, to be this infatuated this quickly. Time moves differently when you’re ‘all grown up.’ You’re not willing to waste it on flings and useless courting anymore, not like you used to be. If you were in it, you were going to be in it for the long haul.

On Valentine’s Day, Javi takes you out for dinner to a fancy steakhouse just on the outskirts of the city. It’s not too far from the museum where you work, but you’ve never bothered to try it due to the price tag. He assures you that he’s paying, not to worry about the numbers on the menu, always the chivalrous and generous one when you’re still working on figuring out daily life on a curator’s salary.

He comes to pick you up in a well-fitting blue suit and you wonder briefly if it’s one of the ones he would’ve worn working for the DEA in Colombia. You won’t ask, because he’s made it clear that you’re not going to talk about those times, but your mind will certainly wander, nonetheless. Your mind conjures images of Javi walking into meetings with the president, pulling a gun from his waistband as he takes down a criminal, and it all has your abdomen tightening far more than you’d like to admit.

The waiter seats you at a small two-person table in the back of the restaurant - Javi sits in the corner and you can watch him as he scans the clientele every few minutes. That must be a holdover from Colombia, as well, you think. You order, and Javi picks out a bottle of red wine to share, which the waiter brings out for you right away. He pours you each a glass and Javi holds his up to you, intending to make a toast. You raise your glass and smile at him as he starts to speak.

“To you, muñeca. My perfect girl.”

The heat that rises to your cheeks is intense, eyes training on his chest as you try to take in the praise without making a complete fool of yourself at the same time.

“And to you, too, Javi. I’ve never been happier.” He smiles back at you as you clink your glasses together, each taking a sip. You’re not usually a fan of reds, but this one is smooth - not very acidic, very floral in its undertones. It brings a heat to your belly that’s warm and pleasant, and you’re pleasantly surprised by the flavor of it all.

As usual, you quickly fall into an easy conversation, barely registering the wait before your food comes out, perfectly cooked and seasoned. You eat in relative silence, taking a moment to taste each other’s plates, and you hum, satisfied, as you finish off your dish.

“I’m not sure if I’ve ever had a better meal, Javier.”

“No? Well… I have even more places to take you, then. Better than this one.”

“Is that so?” He nods back with a smirk and thanks the waiter as he comes around to take away your empty plate, ordering a tiramisu for the two of you to share. You’d been raving about how good it looked when it came out for someone seated close to you.

While you wait, Javi reaches into his coat pocket and holds a small box out to you. “Happy Valentine’s day, cariño.” Your eyes light up at the prospect of the gift, a smile erupting on your face as you reach down for your purse, taking out a similar box that’s much larger to hand him.

“Happy Valentine’s day, Javi.” He chuckles, both of you opening your presents at once. When he opens his, he finds a new leather wallet with the initials “JP” stamped into the corner, smiling and thanking you with a squeeze of your hand. You tell him that you noticed his looking pretty raggedy and hoped he liked it. He assured you that he did.

Then, when you open yours, you find a beautiful golden necklace with a simple single crystal dangling from the chain.

“Oh… this is beautiful.” He smiles back at you and stands up, taking the box and moving behind you before he leans down to press a kiss to your cheek. 

“Can I put it on you, cariño?” You nod, happy that you decided to forego much jewelry this evening, and he clasps the necklace behind your neck, hands squeezing lightly at your shoulders. Staring down at it, you smile as your fingers raise to touch it lightly.

“Javi, it’s gorgeous, thank you.” He smirks back at you as he sits down, reaching across the table for your hand.

“It’s only so pretty because of the woman wearing it.”

There’s that heat again, rising to your cheeks. You’d be embarrassed by it if it were with anyone else, but Javi makes you feel comfortable and loved and understood in ways you’ve never imagined.

You finish up your dessert with another gentle easiness between the two of you and then Javi stands, offering you his arm as you walk out to his relatively beat-up truck. It makes you laugh to see the two of you dressed up and climbing into the old pickup truck, but it’s just so Javi that it could never actually bother you.

He drives you back to the ranch, where you consider heading inside but decide on heading out for a nighttime stroll instead, moving along the property edge, close to the river. You hold his arm in your hands and rest your head on his shoulder as you go, making small talk like you always do. The conversation pivots to Chucho, Javi grumbling about how nitpicky he’s been about the recent renovations to one of the pastures, and you try to step in with the guiding wisdom that Chucho just isn’t used to doing it another way. Change is hard.

Your heeled shoes start to frustrate you in the dirt, so you take them off, carrying them in one hand as you walk barefoot around the ranch.

“Pops would have my head if he knew I let you walk around out here barefoot.” Javi chuckles.

“Well, good thing he isn’t here to yell at us, then. I like it. It feels nice.”

“Or maybe I should just carry you.” Javi stops and smirks, lunging for you and you yelp, trying to jump out of the way. You bolt as quickly as you can, but you’re no match for his long legs and he snatches you up in an instant, throwing you over his shoulder like a fireman.

“Javi! Stop! Put me down!” You’re laughing, but kicking your legs with a seriousness he probably doesn’t pick up, and you pinch his ass once from where you’re hanging. “Seriously, Javi, please put me down?” He drops you unceremoniously onto your feet and places his hands on his hips, looking at you.

“I can walk. Thank you.” You giggle lightly, smoothing out your dress as he shakes his head and reaches for your arm, tugging you along.

“Fine. Let’s move. I have other things I want to do to you tonight.” He winks at you with a smirk and turns toward the house. Your cheeks heat up once more, eyes going wide, but you follow him nonetheless, excited to find out.

The two of you have launched yourselves into the house and into his room in no time, stripping off your clothes haphazardly as you make your way to the shower, eager to scrub off the dirt and grime of your barefooted walk. He, of course, can’t keep himself from you in the shower, and he has your back pressed up against the shower wall, driving his cock in and out of you in no time. He pulls out just in time to cum all over your thigh, forcing you to wash yourself all over again. Then, he’s on his knees, one of your legs hooked over his shoulder, eating you out like his entire life depended on it, hands reaching and groping every which way that he can manage it.

When you finally extricate yourselves from the now-running-cold stream of water, Javi tugs you across the hallway quickly, wrapped up in towels, and suddenly you’re back in his bed with sopping wet hair. Javi is hovering over you, perched like a bird of prey, as you run your hands up and down his torso. He leans down and kisses your collarbone, then nips at it lightly, staring down at the now-wet jewelry hanging softly against your chest.

“I like this necklace. Shows everyone that you’re mine.” You hum at the thought of being his, being Javi’s, and it warms your insides in a way that few things he’s said before have.

“I like the sound of that. Yours.” He chuckles and continues nipping at the skin along your neck, hands finding your breasts as he starts to knead them, thumbs swiping softly across your nipples. You groan, arms falling easily out to your sides as you let him ravage you however he pleases. His lips find purchase everywhere across your body: your belly, your hips, your mound, the insides of your thighs, your knees, your ankles. He kisses everything he can reach, your entire body alight with his affections.

“Javiii… No teasing, please. Need you-” He hums at your feet and quickly flips you over onto your belly before you have the chance to think about it twice. Straddling your legs, he repeats the process, kissing and nipping all the way up your backside, lingering on the swell of your ass between his hands.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, cariño. Mierda.” He kisses between your cheeks, thumbs spreading the flesh apart as he looks down at your holes, spread apart for him so nicely. He dips his head low, pressing his mouth and chin between your cheeks, and licks a broad stripe from the hood of your clit all the way to the puckered flesh of your ass.

You jolt immediately, shocked by the trajectory of his tongue. “Fuck! Javi!” He chuckles and presses a kiss to the inside of your cheek, nipping at it lightly.

“You gonna be a dirty girl for me tonight?” He leans in once more to run his tongue across your tightly puckered hole. Your body jumps and you let out a shaky breath.

“Holy fuck, Javi- what in the hell…” You can feel him smirk against the skin of your ass as he answers.

“We just showered. You gonna let me play with this tight little hole a bit?” You press your ass back into his touch while his hands trail from your hips to your folds, thumb pressing just inside your entrance as he pulls some of your wetness up and over your ass, applying just enough pressure there for you to feel it. You turn your head toward him, hands pressing your torso away from the mattress just enough to give you space to turn.

“You, uh… want to?” He snorts and leans down to press a kiss to the curve of your ass.

“Of course, I want a piece of this perfect ass, muñeca. But only if you do.” You nod, frantically, breath quickening as you think about the possibility of trying this with him - something you haven’t done before, not with anyone else.

“Okay. Yeah, alright.” Settling back down into the mattress, you spread your legs a little wider to accommodate him and he leans down, pressing a kiss to your hole. You groan at the sensation, amazed at how good it feels. His tongue darts out, working around the rim in tight circles for a while, before he starts to just dip inside, the tip of his tongue working past the tight ring of muscle.

“Fuck! Oh fuck-” You’re so shocked by the sensation you can feel your body clench and pull away slightly. He holds onto you tightly, keeping you in place so that you can’t move an inch, arms locked around your thighs. His face is buried between your cheeks, tongue darting in and out of your hole now, and after the shock wears off you realize how fucking amazing it actually feels, and start rolling your hips into it. “Holy shit, Javi, oh fuck.”

He switches tactics, starting to lap at your hole as he extricates his hands from beneath your thighs. “Stay just like this for me, cariño, okay?” You nod into the mattress and push back toward him, desperate for more friction. You can hear the lewd sound of his mouth sucking on something for a moment, then a pop of his lips, and then suddenly you feel a wet finger at your hole, pressing in just slightly. The stretch is different - new, really - but not bad. He presses in slowly until the whole finger is buried and then he moves it.

He freaking moves it. 

“Ohhhhh FUCK! Javier!” That’s a new, phenomenal sensation, that you’ve never felt before, and feels nothing like anything else you’ve tried, either. He keeps moving his finger around, pumping it in and out just slightly, and two fingers of his other hand find the slick heat of your cunt, sinking in up to the knuckle, as well. You gasp, back arching away from the mattress as your hips push back into his hands. He chuckles at your enthusiasm, leaning down to bite lightly at your lower back.

“Patience, darlin’.” You groan and continue to rock your hips, riding out the pleasure on his hands even through the way he chastises you. Soon, his fingers are replaced by the tip of his cock and the finger that was in your ass is replaced by his thicker, but just as spit-slick thumb. Pressing in slowly, he hisses as he sheaths himself within you, your legs widening as you lay along the bed. He uses gravity to press deeply into you, his free hand holding tightly to your hip. 

You groan heavily, unable to do much else other than lay there and let him use you, but fuck it if it wasn’t one of the best things you’ve ever felt. You let yourself relax into the mattress and focus on the feeling of Javi working his fingers and his cock in and out of you in perfect tandem. He takes his time building up speed until he’s pistoning his hips into you at such a pace that it feels like it knocks the breath out of you with every thrust of his hips. You’re bouncing into the mattress with each one, laid out on it with nowhere to go and his body weight pinning you down so concretely. 

It feels wonderful.

Working in combination with his thumb in your ass and his heavy cock splitting you open, the fingers of his opposite hand reach around under your hips to finger small circles around your clit. Added to the way this position lets you grind onto his hand, it builds you up quicker than anything you’ve done with him before, sending you spiraling into an orgasm that feels like it bubbles over in three places all at once.

He works you eagerly through the aftershocks of it all, carrying a steady pace as he chases down his own climax. You can feel his hips stutter, lose their cadence, and then he’s pulling out just in time to splatter his hot cum all over the space where your ass meets your lower back. He grunts, jerking himself through it as you try to catch your breath beneath him, and then you can feel him shifting on the bed, standing up and leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Right back, cariño.” Leaving just long enough to get what he needed, Javi comes back in with a warm washcloth, wiping you down fully and then himself before tossing the rag away, turning off the lights, and climbing into bed next to you. He pulls the sheets up over the two of you and gathers you up in his arms, peppering kisses across your forehead and cheeks before working down to your nose and then your lips. He slows eventually, letting his head loll back into the pillow as he takes a deep breath, exhaling it all out.

You end up settling in under the covers with Javi’s strong arms wrapped around your midsection from behind. This was always the most comfortable position between the two of you, feeling so safe and calm that it lulled you to sleep in an instant. You turn over in his grasp, head coming to rest on his chest as you wrap your arm across his waist. Reaching up, you press a few gentle kisses to his jaw, now covered in a five o’clock shadow.

“Thank you for today, Javi. You made me feel very special.” With a smile against his skin, you settle back against his chest as he squeezes you tightly to his side.

“You are special, muñeca.” Your heart blossoms at the praise and, before you can stop yourself, three little words come tumbling off of your lips.

“I love you.”

 Oops. 

You said it. You didn’t really intend to, but it slipped out quite easily with the way this whole evening went. And, frankly, it’s the truth. You loved him and loved him hard. You were his and he was yours. You hum happily against his chest, waiting in silence as he runs his fingers across your upper back. He doesn’t answer you for a long while. 

“I’m glad you had a good time, cariño.”

It takes a moment for you to register that he has very deliberately not said it back to you. Blinking back the shock of it and lambasting yourself for expecting something out of him that he wasn’t ready to give, it’s all you can do to keep yourself from mentally berating yourself over and over again. A silence grows between you as you lay there, thinking about the distinct dodging of your admission. He didn’t even acknowledge it. Did he just not hear you? Or choose not to hear you? Or is he ignoring you directly and on purpose?

You settle on likely ignoring, and it churns your stomach contents. Rather than pressing the issue, you fall silent and try to lull yourself into a hopefully dreamless sleep. Maybe you misunderstood all of this, after all.

He chuckles next to you and nuzzles his head against yours, pressing a kiss to your hair.

“Shhh. I can hear your brain goin' a thousand miles a minute, baby. It’s okay. I love you, too.”

You let out a long sigh, his words echoing over and over in your head. Nuzzling your way further into him, you take a few deep breaths and close your eyes, taking in the scent of his slightly sweaty - but clean - skin.

"Fuck. Okay. Good. Thought maybe I made a fool of myself or something."

He chuckles and your breathing settles, a sense of calm and contentment wafting over you.

"Not any more than a normal day, muñeca." He squeezes your arm and you laugh nervously, turning and looking up at him for a moment before he shifts, leaning over you to press a slow kiss to your lips.

"I'll take that, then," you respond. He smiles down at you and you lean in this time, kissing him again.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Maybe this was it for you. Maybe Javi was the one, after all.

~ ~ ~

a/n: Whoops! Happy early Valentine's Day!!! I know this was probably corny asf but it's valntine's day soon. They deserve it.

There are some big feels coming up in the next two chapters (which are already written!!) so this is your fair warning. I am thinking maybe another 4 chapters in total left for these two, but who knows where it'll lead us! Let me know what you think! Your interactions and comments and criticisms and all of it are so appreciated!

xoxoxo

NEXT PART IS HERE (VII)

Taglist: @amyispxnk @picketniffler @kirsteng42 (lmk if you'd like to be added!)

#writing #javi peña smut #javi peña fanfiction #javier peña x reader #javi peña x reader #javier peña #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal #fanfic #javier peña smut #narcos fanfiction #narcos smut #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena fanfiction #no beta we die like men #valentines day

[thelightsandtheroses]

Secret Smile: Prodigal Son (Chapter One)

Secret Smile | Javier Peña x female reader

Summary: Before returning to Colombia to get things right this time, Javi’s childhood best friend asks him to to keep an eye out for his sister while they’re both stationed in the embassy. Only you don’t need Javier to keep an eye you her. Your role as a new legal advisor is all about keeping an eye on him after all. Sparks fly, lines will be drawn and broken and there’s everything to lose. Word Count: 2.4k Chapter Warnings: 18+ blog, language, Narcos season 3 spoilers, reminder - this is going to be a slow burn, unbeta’d

Series Masterlist | Chapter 2

Laredo, Tx

The gum’s not working. How people think this is a viable alternative to a cigarette, Javier doesn’t know. He pops another piece out of the blister pack. Maybe two will help?

It’s been a long evening; it feels like almost everyone at this wedding wants to speak to him. Some of them want to say how proud they are of him, others want to ghoulishly ask about Escobar and see if he will spill any grisly details and satisfy their curiosities.

It’s a marked contrast from the last time he was home; back when he was just the man who broke Lorraine’s heart, who shamed both his and her family by not even turning up to the church to explain himself. Back then, Javier was the black sheep who ran to the DEA and Mexico and Colombia to hide from his sins. Now he is a prodigal son returned, a slayer of demons and one who’s hiding from a whole new set of sins.

It’s exhausting. Javi’s exhausted.

He thought vacations were meant to make you feel less like this, but maybe that’s because most people leave their home rather than return to it as a vacation.

Seeing Lorraine with Randy and her children sits strangely. He left the hall, transfixed by the spectre of a life he could have had if he’d made different decisions. But is that Javi? Could that ever have been him? Could it ever be him? Lorraine didn’t seem to think. Clearly past him hadn’t thought so either because he ran away from it all for a reason, right?

This time away from work isn’t helping. He’s too in his head, too deep in his thoughts. Being back at home dredges up all the ghosts, all the questions and there’s too much time to think about what went down in Colombia, in who he became to get Escobar.

Javi gave years of his life, he gave everything to that single goal and he fumbled it. He wasn’t even there when they took him down; just consoling himself with cheap whiskey in a bar.

Not that the people of Laredo know this; no, to them he’s some sort of hero, all sins forgiven and forgotten.

He’s not a hero. Javi knows who the real heroes are.

He leans against the wall, listening to the sound of insects around him and the din of the wedding inside the hall, fingers itching for a cigarette rather than the unsatisfying gum in his mouth. 

He hasn’t told his dad everything yet, just that he has to go back, that he’s been offered a promotion to help bring down the next threat. He can’t tell him about it all; about how he thought he was walking into some sort of oversight or disciplinary committee to fight for his job, that he thought he would be held to account for everything that went down in Colombia, only it was a reprieve, an interview to ask him to go back.

It’s weighed on his mind ever since.

Saying yes was so easy in the moment. He fell at the last hurdle with Escobar, wasn’t even there the day it all ended. All of those years, all that work, faded to nothing against the mistakes and regrets and the scars the job left him.

Catching Escobar had been everything to Javier for so long. He was a symbol of everything that Javi was fighting against and he needed to be stopped. Since he got back from Bogota, he keeps coming back to an old Nietzsche quote he studied once in a Philosophy college class: “battle not with a monster, lest ye become a monster”

He doesn’t think he quite became a monster, but maybe he crossed some lines. Now he needs to fix it.

This time will be better though. It has to be.

He needs to do this whole thing the right way this time, help stop this war once and for all, or at least fix the messes he left behind.

Javi’s pulled out of his reverie by the crunching sound of footsteps on gravel next to him and turns around, instantly on alert.

“Javi?” a familiar voice asks.

“Rafa. Hey, it’s been a while,” Javi replies, relaxing as he faces Rafael. Rafael has been a steady presence in his life since they were kids, arguably he was one of Javi’s first friends. They’d been paired together in elementary school; an unlikely pair at first who’d quickly realised that they had more in common than they expected. They’ve stuck together through it all; Javi’s mother, the way their lives veered in different directions after college and all the way to the failed wedding to Lorraine. Hell, Rafael was going to be his best man and it was him along with Chucho helped pick up the pieces Javier left behind as he ran away under the false promise of being a hero.

Rafael’s holding a glass of whiskey in his hands, his tie is loosened and he looks stressed before he even says a word.

“I need to ask you a favour,” he says, taking another swig of his drink.

“Oh yeah?” Javi asks, dreading what’s next. It’s been an evening of unearned congratulations and fake smiles. He just wants to go home now, but he promised his tia, doesn’t want to let Danny down either.

“My sister’s been posted to Colombia.” That’s news to Javi.

He remembers flashes of you, a few years younger than the two of them, smart, annoyingly competitive and you had always seemed more focused than even Javi. That was something considering Javi worked towards the single goal of working his way out of Laredo and exploring the world more from the age of eight.  Sometimes he had resented Rafael’s family who always seemed to have it so easy, their money and presence looming over so much of their hometown. 

He hasn’t seen you in years. You left Laredo for college and then Javier had joined the DEA and gone wherever they wanted to send him: Mexico, Colombia. He’d just wanted out of his hometown.

“Colombia?” Javi repeats. He must have heard wrong surely.

“Yes. She’s at the embassy, some sort of fancy position - legal stuff, or something like that. I don’t know the details, I didn’t ask.. she’s not really shouted about it. She didn’t even tell me why she even wanted to leave DC in the first place. I mean, I thought she was happy there and if she wasn’t, I’d have thought she’d have gone back to Austin because I know she loved it there. Look, I’m rambling but she’s my sister, man. I know you don’t talk about what you did down in Colombia, whatever went down. You don’t need to, I can fucking see it on your face, Javi. I’ve known you since we were kids. That’s why I’ve got to ask, Javi, I’ve got to ask if you can you keep an eye on her? I heard Chucho say you’re going back down there to my mom earlier and -”

Javi exhales slowly, rubs between his shoulder and collar bone as he thinks about his friend’s words.

Javi doesn’t want anyone from his hometown in Colombia. He doesn’t want them see who he is at work, or to see the reality of his world down there. At the moment, he feels as though there are two Javier Peña’s; the one that Laredo remembers and is now currently projecting their thanks and heroism to, and then the Javier in Colombia. That Javier is the one who’s reputation in the embassy may not be what Laredo expects. These two sides should never mix, he has to keep them separate.

“The embassy is a big place, Rafa,”, Javi says after a moment, “I’m in one small part of it and the chances are -”

“I know,” Rafael says after a moment, “I know that the chances are you won’t see her much, perhaps even at all. It’s just I’ll feel better if I know someone out there has her back. Please?”

Rafael never asks for anything unless he needs it. He’s the sort of person who would rather try and change a busted tyre alone in the dark than ask someone for help. It’s one of things that drew Javi to him; they’re both stubborn and determined people.

So of course Javier says yes, because Rafael is his longest standing friend and there is no other answer.

The embassy is a big place, Rafael might not know what you do but Javi’s sure you don’t work for the DEA so you won’t be one of his agents. You’ll probably be cooped up with all the stuffy lawyers he actively tries to avoid.

If it helps his friend to know he’ll be there for you if you need him, well, that’s fine with Javier. He would be there too, he means it when he says yes.

He probably won’t even cross paths with you in the corridors.

Famous last words.

Javi’s conversation with his Pops creeps under his skin after Danny’s wedding. It was the way he stopped the car in the same place they’d argued about Colombia, about him running away, for the first time. There’s more than a decade between then and now but for a moment, Javi felt like he was in his twenties again, ready for the fight.

Only this time it was different. Javi was still adamant but his Pops was resigned.

Last night set a fire under him. What is the point of staying any longer in Laredo, what will it bring him that getting back to work won’t? He has a job to do and he’s ready for it.

He can make things right this time; he can properly atone.

“When’s your flight?” Chucho asks from the kitchen doorway.

Javi closes the manilla file of paperwork and looks up. A flash of guilt rises in his stomach as he takes in his Pop’s tired appearance; that weariness that a day of hard physical labour always leaves. He should have helped him today, while he’s still here.

  “Tomorrow, my flight’s tomorrow, Pops” he says, his throat constricting with each word. He doesn’t say he asked the DEA to arrange an earlier flight, to change his start date. He doesn’t need to.

“Okay, Javi.” His father’s voice is heavy, unreadable somehow. There’s no disappointment in his voice but he can’t detect any approval either. “Do you need a ride to the airport?”

Javi swallows. “Yeah, that would uh- that would be good if you don’t mind, Pop.”

“Of course I don’t mind, son. When is it?”

Javi tells him when he needs to be at the airport, pushes the folder away for the night and tries to ignore the way his father’s gaze sticks on the innocuous looking file.

“I saw you and Rafael talking last night.”

Javi looks up, surprised at the change in subject. “Yeah, it’s good to see him again. We haven’t had as much of a chance to catch up since I’ve been back.”

 “You two were almost inseparable when you were kids; he was always interested in seeing the ranch, you rememebr that? He’s a good man, does a lot to help in this town.”

Rafael wasn’t like Javi - in the end he had chosen to make his life in Laredo. After medical school and his residency, he became a doctor at the local family practice. From what Chucho and others have told Javi, he’s well respected around town too.

“Did he tell you about his sister being down in Colombia too?”

“Yeah, he did. I don’t reckon we’ll cross paths though, Pops, we’ll be in different departments and they don’t mix much.”

“Probably not. It’s funny though, don’t you think?  She’s always been like you though, hasn’t she? She’s always wanted to be out there in the world. ‘S a small world though, huh?”

What are the chances of two people from Laredo being assigned to the same embassy?”

Minuscule - the odds are almost obscenely minuscule. The fact this is even happening feels like it must be some sort of aberration or perhaps Javi is just cursed.

Javi can’t say that though, he’s not sure what to say so he just nods.

“He wanted me to keep an eye out for her, make sure she’s alright,” Javi says.

“That makes sense. Are you going to?”

“If I see her. Like I said, we’re in different departments, it’s a big old city. I doubt I’ll even pass her much in the corridors. But if I do, I promised Rafa I’d keep an eye out for her and I will.”

“That’s probably all he wanted to hear. Actually, it might be good for you, having someone you know there with you.  You didn’t say if Steve is coming back this time?”

“No, he’s back in Miami with his family. He’s still with the DEA but he wants to stay where he is for now, not do as much active duty. Olivia’s young, I guess he feels he’s missed enough already.”

Steve gave a lot in the fight to stop Escobar. He almost lost his wife, lost time with his daughter, Javi doesn’t blame him for being done with active duty. As much as Steve and him had clashed against each other, by the end, Steve was Javi’s friend. He’d expected Steve to be like the others, last a month or two and be utterly blind to what the reality of the job was, of what being ‘all in’ meant. Steve had surprised him though. You couldn’t spend all that time together in that fire of that battle, because it was a battle, without forming a lifelong bond, however reluctant that might be for either of them.

It would be strange this time, going back there without him. It is going to be different with the promotion anyway - Javi can barely remember Messina getting much of a chance to get out from beyond her desk and that worries him. He’s designed for outside the office, not confined within it. Javi’s not sure where she’s ended up either; Stechner indicated her career was marked. Thanks to him. There’s another debt he can’t pay.

After a moment, his Pops opens the fridge, gets two bottles of beer and they sit together in silence.

Javi knows he should say something before it’s too later, but all of the words are stuck in his throat.  He just drinks his beer, runs his hands over the Nicorette gum in his jeans pocket.

Maybe Javi will come home right this time.

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[furious-rogue-stuff]

Heat Chapter 45: Deserving - Part 2

Here's the next installment! Hope you all enjoy 😊

Pairing: Javier Peña x OFC | Javi x Querida

Disclaimer: Written in 2nd person narrative, you can safely assume our heroine and love/lust interest is a Latina, written by a Latina. Here's my philosophy on my writing, for further context.

Rating: Mature/Explicit 🔞

Word Count: 24,000+

Summary: After a shocking occurrence, everything between you and Javi comes to a head that foists your relationship into a defining moment. Will the truth cause a rift, or strengthen the bond between you?

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of sex, including oral (m + f receiving) and unprotected sex. Mentions of raunchy sexual acts, angst, longing, stress, and fertility worries. Descriptions of power play, praise kink, and dirty talk. Allusions to jealousy, animosity, foreboding threats, and emotional distress. Some Worried!Javi, Protective! Javi, Upset!Reader. In the vein of Narcos being a bilingual show, and Javier Peña being fluent, I felt it was apropos to include Spanglish and Spanish throughout.

Heat Masterlist

Previous chapter - Chapter 44: Deserving - Part 1

Chapter 45: Deserving - Part 2

When you finally make it home to Javier later that evening, it's with another handful of groceries you purchased from the colmadito just outside of the gated neighborhood, and a head full of thoughts running rampant with worries that had no suspected foes.

The call kept looping like a record in the proverbial player of your mind, but every time it tried to source a possible explanation, it would draw a blank like a skip in the vinyl, and you'd be back to ruminating – trying to decipher the missing grove. Still, you found yourself feeling uncertain and unmoored to what your options even were, with nothing but a startling experience and the conjecture regarding its cause before you.

Hell, you hadn't even told Javi about the incident, and now? What are you even supposed to say?

Possible foul play is suspected?! Even in your head, it sounded ludicrous and overdramatic. After all, the investigator, the insurance rep, and the assistant manager at the dealership all conceded there was no definitive evidence that the tire was tampered with.

You were on autopilot as you came into the kitchen with the groceries and started putting everything away as your mind kept trying to rationalize the entire thing. The most likely explanation is the simplest, is the mantra that suddenly vies for influence in the swirl of what ifs and worst-case scenarios. You can hear your father's voice echo in your mind.

"Think logically. No point in getting hysterical. Be reasonable, and the answer will become obvious."

Sighing, you finish storing things in the fridge and only then notice that the stove is clear of the pots from earlier. They're actually soaking in the sink, along with the serving tray sitting clean and folded up next to the dish rack. The dinner plate that's wrapped up and placed under the stove lamp is the meal Javier served for you to have once you got home, and the sight of it makes you smile.

While dinner heats up in the microwave, you switch out the laundry loads and set the dry clothes in the basket to be sorted and folded later. You then head down to check on Javi, and find him fast asleep under the comforter while the ambient light from the TV screen casts a dreamy glow in the room. Not wanting to wake him, you tiptoe back out and go eat dinner while you stand in the kitchen. The sounds of the early twilight are filled with the trilling of the coquí and the breeze sifting through the trees and fronds outside.

Javier's house is tucked on the corner of a dead-end street in the northeast quadrant of the urbanizacíon, and behind the cement walls bordering the boundary lines of this corner of the gated neighborhood was a protected strip of land not zoned for construction, so it was often tranquil and quiet, even during the day. You found yourself thinking, This isn't a bad little bungalow at all. Just needs some TLC.

Once you've finished eating, you make quick work of the dishes and then decide to take a shower so you can make it an early night. After all, you're feeling drained, and still have a full workday left to grind through. So, you lock up the house, turn out the lights, and go into bathroom's hall entry.

The eucalyptus stems are still hung from the showerhead, and the hot, steamy water helps diffuse the scent of it soothingly over your senses.

Feeling refreshed and relaxed, you wrap the towel around yourself and shut the light off before opening the bathroom's bedroom door and tiptoeing around to your side of the bed.

The glow of the TV helps you maneuver soundlessly, and as you go, you see that Javier had turned over onto his side in order to cuddle your pillow. Tangled under his arm and over said pillow, is your nighty.

Smiling at the sight, you lean over and try to carefully tug the silky garment loose, but Javi ends up stirring awake.

"Mmph…Celina?" he sleepily mumbles.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," you murmur and sit on your side of the bed, stretching over to caress your hand along the length of his upper arm pacifyingly. "Go back to sleep, babe—"

He yawns like a lion and stubbornly embraces the pillow to his chest, taking the nighty along with it as he rolls onto his back and grumbles groggily, "M'awake now."

You can't help scoff at your luck. "No, doesn't really sound like you are. Now, drift back off, mi cariñito," is your soft coo, as you simultaneously pinch the strap of the nighty that's dangling loose and try to ease it out of his embrace so you can shed your towel and slip it on over your head.

Ever the contrarian, Javi drowsily rolls onto his side again so he can gruffly protest with surly grunts as he reaches out with his right hand and tries to heard you closer, but only comes up short. "Hmph, c'mere," is his raspy whine when he shuffles closer in order to lasso his arm around your waist.

"Ay, Javi, I'm still in a towel and I've been trying to get the nighty out from your clutches without stirring you awake," you irreverently huff as you wriggle away to the edge of the bed so you can go discard the towel and hang it back up in the bathroom. But Javi snags the back of the fluffy material and hauls you back, so you squeal, "Javier!"

His husky chuckle makes it clear that he's just been feigning being drowsy for the last few seconds. "Just come snuggle, preciosa. Nighty's optional," is his sexy drawl as he tows you closer until you're tucked against him.

"Someone is feeling better," you muse saucily before maneuvering around to face him so you can press your palm to his forehead. "Ah, you don't feel as feverish. Good," is your lilting observation before wriggling to get the pillow and nighty out from beneath you so you can shift up on your elbow and smile down at him as you taunt, "But you're still supposed to behave. No te he dado de alta, chavón."

He smirks at your bossy, 'I haven't discharged you,' and surrenders, flopping his arms above his head so that you can shimmy up and grab the nighty before untangling it and pulling it on over your head. With a cheeky tug of your towel, he pulls it loose from your hourglass figure and tosses it in the corner next to the dresser so you can easily scurry under the comforter with him.

"You took more of the medicine?" you ask as you cuddle up against him, smiling when he grunts in the affirmative. "I saw you polished off the rest of the leftovers from lunch. Thanks for setting a plate aside for me."

"You're welcome. Least I could do when you've taken such good care of my ass," he quips, and you snicker and relish how he squeezes you affectionately in his arms.

"Ah, you've taken care of me just as good," you sincerely assure and nuzzle his neck. His skin is warm, and his manly, spicy scent is peeking through the lingering fragrance of the Vicks vaporub.

With a pleased grunt, Javi noses into the top of your hair. At your hearty, albeit tired sigh, he hums before murmuring, "You feeling alright?"

"Yeah. I'm just tired," you mumble as you stifle a yawn. "Last two weeks have been exhausting."

Frowning, Javi is reminded that this is not the first time he's heard that – that you've had a tough time recently. He wants to ask what's been going on, but he feels you begin to relax against him, and frankly, he's still a bit run down himself. So, he kisses you on your temple after snuggling further under the covers with you, figuring he can ask tomorrow.

You're both able to drift off into a deep sleep, so much so that the TV is left on playing the late-night show, but it doesn't stir either of your slumbers.

No, it isn't until early the following morning that you slowly wake to Javier clearing his throat over the sound of the sink running in the bathroom. You can make out the ambient light from the TV screen from just beyond the shelter of the covers, and shiver at the chill in the room. Tiredly, you roll over and peer through heavy lids to see the door is ajar and Javier is at the sink. You can see part of his reflection in the mirror above the sink vanity.

He's dutifully shaving his face, and even though you want to bossily admonish him, you end up yawning and tossing the comforter over your head to get a few more winks of sleep in.

It must be a short while later when you hear him moving around the bedroom, so you shift under the covers in order to peer over and see that indeed, he's in his white skivvies and rifling through the closet for something to wear as he tries to clear his throat quietly.

"Javi, come back to bed," you whine, having peeked at the alarm clock and confirmed it was still much too early still.

Pausing, he glances over at you and sees you cutely curling up under the blanket from the chill in the room, so he snorts and lopes over to toss himself onto the bed before stretching out next to you.

With a kiss to your forehead, he rumbles, "Morning, mi amor."

"Don't 'morning, mi amor,' me. Get back under here," you boss, but with your tousled hair and scrunched pout, your command doesn't have the usual gravitas.

Still, Javi takes pity on you and tucks his legs under the covers before pivoting onto his side and scooting you closer. You happily curl into him and cling to his warm torso with a satisfied sigh.

"Where you going so early?" you mumble, feeling his skin slowly seep his body heat into you.

"The field office. I wanted to get ready early so I could call Kike to get picked up—"

With a snippy hum, you sass, "I haven't declared you completely cured, tough guy—"

He scoffs amusedly, "I feel fine, mandona."

Pouting stubbornly, you shift to take his temperature with your hand at his forehead. "Hmph…we'll see what the thermometer says," you argue, and shuffle up in bed in order to reach it where it sits on his nightstand.

Humoring you, he scoots to sit up and lean backwards into the headboard as you retrieve the thermometer and sidle close before placing it under his tongue. He bounces his brows at you, and you snicker, "Hey, you have proven you cannot be trusted when it comes to your own wellness. I don't want you rushing back to work if you're still sick."

He rolls his eyes, but obeys, waiting the allotted time required for his temperature to register. Satisfied that enough time has lapsed, you take the thermometer and hold it up to the light coming from the bathroom to see the reading.

Javi peers at it himself and smiles broadly. "Ah-hah, see? 98.7. No more fever," is his triumphant drawl before he kisses your cheek and croons, "Now, the only thing getting me hot, is you—"

You blow a raspberry at that and set the thermometer aside. "Alright, beyako. But you still have to drink lots of fluids, ok?" you muse and give him a haughty look before Javi ruggedly pulls you against him and onto his lap so he can shower you with relentless kisses until you crack a smile and giggle at his ticklish moustache.

When he ends up pulling back so he can cough and clear his raspy throat, you hand him the glass of water before going to make him some hot tea.

He's just set out his white dress shirt and dark suit onto the foot of the bed when you come back into the room with a mug filled with tea and a teaspoon of honey.

Drinking a long sip, he savors it while he sits with you on the rumpled covers. "Mmm, thanks."

You kiss his shoulder before chiming, "You're welcome," and settling in to lounge comfortably while the early morning news is playing on the TV.

The serene moment of just being with each other is something you both are leaning into, and are in no rush to leave the bubble of contentment.

He nurses his tea while you languidly caress your hand along his chest whilst you both skim the chyron to see the headlines.

With your head on his shoulder, you try to relax completely, but can't help the needling worry from yesterday begin to creep up.

"I called Kike already. He's picking me up around 8," Javi volunteers as he sets the mug aside on the nightstand, and you snap out of your faraway ruminating to hum in acknowledgement. "You got a busy day?"

Sighing, you wilt against him as you gripe, "Yes, and all I can think about is being back here after work and just lazing into a stupor."

"That sounds good to me," he drawls, before purring, "Can I join you?"

You laugh, "Of course, you dork," and sit up to goofily nuzzle his cheek.

Not to be outdone, Javi starts to rambunctiously fondle your curves, getting nice handfuls of your round ass while he suckles kisses along your neck. That soon gives way to you both fooling around, and the lust that had been dormant in you the last couple of weeks you've been apart sears up in your core. And when Javi's arousal presses against your lower belly before grinding against you, making your pussy throb? It takes everything in you not to become ravenous with need.

You manage to roll him onto his back so you can straddle his lap and kiss a luscious path from his jaw, down his neck, to his chest, all while Javi arches under you and groans – hands pawing to slip under your nighty and grip your hips so he can rut against you.

"Want you," he growls when he tries to sit up and pull you closer, but you shy away. "Querida—"

Sighing as you hold your ground and push him back down so you can resume your path down his torso, you murmur against his chest, "We don't have enough time, Javi—"

"I'll make time," he defies, trying to sit up again, but you nudge him back again.

"I don't want a frantic quickie, babe," you counter before trailing the tip of your tongue down the center of his abs, cause him to gasp and stiffen under you. "I want you in my mouth—"

His groan is starved, but his tone is hard when he grouses, "Come ride my tongue, and you can put it in your mouth, guapita."

How are you supposed to argue with such a salacious compromise?

Javier feels exhilarating urge flare in his apex from how swiftly you tugged his underwear off before yanking your nighty over your head and clambering to go reverse cowgirl so he can pull you down on his face. He slots his mouth to your eager cunt and licks into you just as you wrap your lips around the tip of his throbbing cock.

You both are so fine-tuned to each other's desires – know what turns the other on and how to pluck pleasure at such a viscerally sensual level – that it's intoxicating how quickly you're reaching bliss.

He loves it when you rock against his tongue to prolong your ecstasy, and you can't get enough of how he moans in completion into your quivering center when you hollow out your cheeks and stroke him into spilling his climax in the clutch of your mouth.

Needless to say, Javi is dopily sated as he's finishing getting dressed for work a short while later, just as you come out of the shower. You pause at the doorway and watch him swagger about whilst he pulls on his belt and loops it in the buckle before he starts fiddling with the ends of his green and blue-checkered-pattern tie tucked around his collar. Seeing him so relaxed and content is endearing, and you are struck then with how much you admire him, and how happy it makes you to know he's yours.

The sound of your feet padding over the tiled floor towards him makes that silly palpitation flutter in his chest, just before you encircle your arm around his waist and hug him from behind. He can smell your shower-warmed skin and the clean fragrance of your hair as he leans into you and reaches his hand backwards to cup your towel-clad lower back once your other hand caresses up to squeeze his deltoid affectionately.

"I love you, by the way," you flirtatiously sigh, as if it's a silly reminder you were compelled to voice just now.

Grunting gloatingly, he turns and wraps his arms around you before playfully hoisting you up against him so he can easily pepper soft kisses across your cheeks before purring irreverently, "And I'm madly in love with you, by the way."

You giggle and press your lips to his in a silly way and hum dramatically for him to let you down so you can stand on your tippy toes and grin up at him whilst you busily loop the ends of his tie into a perfect knot for him. At his confident smirk when you bat your lashes up at him, you chime, "Good. Because I just want to spend all weekend with you, to the risk of you getting sick of me."

Javi exhales a gruff scoff before snickering, "That's never gonna happen, corazón. Well, maybe the other way around—"

With a bossy tug to his tie, you purse your lips imperiously at him before cutting in with impish authority, "I haven't gotten sick of you so far, so I doubt I will, galán. So quit talking nonsense—"

"That goes for you too, then, malcriada," he ruggedly interjects and gives your waist a playful squeeze before nuzzling bossy kisses into your cheek, making you laugh brightly until that discordant little sigh flits out of you.

The sound of the SUV Kike drives pulling up to the front of the house has Javi exhaling huffily, so you sigh and cup his face with both hands before crooning, "No pouting, boss man. Go have a great day."

"Fine, I'll try," he grumbles, but his soulful eyes are warm and his smile is easygoing before he leans down and gives you a soft peck on the lips.

After tugging on his socks and black leather boots, he shrugs into his dark blazer, pockets his belongings from the dresser top, and steals one last kiss before rushing out to his ride.

Swooning onto the bed, you dreamily pine over how effervescent and tingly Javier made you feel. It truly eclipses anything else you were stressing or fretting about. So much so, you compartmentalize it all so you can focus on only the good feelings.

Discarding the towel, you hustle up to quickly dry your hair and get dressed for work. Once you're satisfied with your look, you turn everything off in the bedroom, open the windows, make the bed, and sprint out on your kitten heels to grab your purse and keys before heading down to the laundry room and out the marquesina door to get in your car and start the short commute to the Federal building.

While you're striding through the entry to head directly up to your office, Javier is coming off the elevator at the top floor of the building they've leased out to act as the DEA field office.

It's a nondescript building accessible off of a side street from the major avenue, and less than a mile from a principal artery of the nearby expressway. It took a lot of jockeying, but he and Steve were able to make the case to have the field office off of the federal campus, with close access to the main routes. The underground garage was secure, and the DEA agents on-site could make the office building their base of operations for surveillance, wiretaps, and old-fashioned detective work. CI's were met with off-site at another satellite location in the warehouse district that looked out on Puerto Rico Highway 22.

As he walks in his purposeful stride through the bullpen-styled office space, he can feel some of the personnel notice him and quickly find something to busy themselves with while junior agents greet him with varying degrees of enthusiasm. He curtly nods in acknowledgement to each as he goes, intent on getting to the conference room he and Steve have designated the "Case Room" for the time being.

His former partner and current co-SAC was in said room, listening while Segarra and the main senior agents on the case argue about the latest intel, when he glances up and sees Javi making his way over through the narrow sidelight in the corner of the room.

"He has risen," Steve jibes under his breath and relaxes as Javier opens the door and breezes in. "Nice of you to join us, Jav."

Cocking a glib brow at his friend and confidante, Javi goes to sit in the available desk chair someone had rolled in previously, recycling back in it with his arms crossed as he drawls, "Looks like I walked into the middle of a squabble session. What's the latest?"

"Basically, we think we have a solid lead on a distribution hub used by the main gang syndicate in the metro-area, but Segarra here is telling us we can't move on it," Lopez deadpans, but his sharp stare communicates how vexed by the ASAC he really is.

Javier can't help roll his eyes before shifting in his seat, resting one hand on the knee of the leg he just crossed while scrubbing his other palm impatiently across his mouth and idly along his cheek. The scent of cigarette smoke permeates the air stronger than everyone's cologne and the whiff of stale coffee, giving him an instant headache. Followed by a strong craving for nicotine.

"It's good intel, Jav. But we're being told our hands are tied here," Duffy chimes in gruffly as he leans casually in his chair and flicks the ash from his cigarette into his used coffee cup.

The constant static and tension between the agents and Segarra? It was something Javier had no patience for, and that was clearly becoming more palpable the thinner it wore down.

"Sir, that kind of operation would require us to execute it in coordination with the FBI. But Agent Bozzi's office has denied the request," Segarra argues, clearly tired of being the punching bag for the other agents.

"Duffy, you know a bunch of the guys over there. What do they got going on that would be more important than this co-op?" Javi asks the other man sat across from his partner, who was always better at keeping a poker face than Lopez.

"FBI has a lot of fingers in different pies when it comes to investigations down here. I heard they're working on a lot of financial fraud cases – that they staffed up their tax fraud personnel to go through tons of paperwork, but I haven't heard of anything big," is Duffy's reply before he lets loose the exhale of smoke from his cigarette. "I can ask around some more."

"Alright," Javi retorts before glancing over at Steve. "Wanna catch me up?"

"Sure," Steve responds as he gestures 'good luck' to the other men in the room before heading for the door.

Once he and Javier are in their shared office, Javi goes to his desk drawer and retrieves his backup pack of nicotine gum, popping one out of the tray and tossing it brusquely into his mouth.

"You should really try the patch," is Steve's aloof suggestion as he sits in the cushioned couch that's backed against the wall and faces the side of Javi's desk.

"I did, but the damn thing was itchy," Javi gripes as he chews on the gum and rubs the tension between his brows moodily. In a grumble, he adds, "This takes the edge off instantly, at least."

Humming, Steve segues topics with, "Anyway, as well-meaning as Segarra is, he's not endeared himself to the agents at all. Duffy and Lopez are stubborn, for sure, but he just doesn't have the authority to get much done."

"I know…" Javi mutters as he rubs the tension from his temples with his hand before dragging his palm down his face in frustration. "Still. That prick Bozzi shouldn't be shutting shit down like that without talking to one of us—"

"You, more precisely," Steve corrects, shrugging when Javi glowers at him. "Hey, you're the one in charge of coordinated operations with other agencies here. That means you gotta work with the guy," is his laconic retort, to Javi's added chagrin.

He stews about it for a few seconds before remarking dryly, "Besides that, we got plenty of stuff from CBP for these guys to start running down…"

While they continue to hash out the upcoming game plan for all the work happening in the agency and to come, you're deep in an auditing review for all the digital data processes requiring upgrading to the new standards at the other federal satellite sites on the island.

Your team had done a great job compiling the data, so while it was busy work, it really helped you diagnose what the next steps should be for each site, and come up with an automated plan that could be shared out with each specialist in charge of the upgrading.

Just as you're finalizing some notes for your report, your cell phone rings. You answer it and are surprised to hear from Jodalys.

"Hola, I'm not interrupting you with anything?"

"No, I'm just finishing up something at the office. How can I help you?"

"I wanted to let you know about a gala WAPA-TV is organizing. We have several big marketing sponsors, and I know local government officials are going to be in attendance, so I wanted to see if you think the Giving Back program would want to be a sponsor? You'd last mentioned how the Federal office wants to foster a tighter camaraderie with the locals, so I thought this could be a good way to do that?" she pitches enthusiastically.

"Yes, I think that would be something the program manager would definitely agree on! I'll speak with him, so give me the details?" you respond as you grab for your planner and find a blank page to scribble the date, time, etc that Jodalys dictates to you.

After running it by the program manager and his lead, who really likes the prospect, he starts making the arrangements, assuring you it might be just the kind of event even the Chief Executive Director, Mercer, would encourage the federal office workers to attend.

As you're feeling accomplished at the end of the day while you walk out to your car, Javier and Steve are hopping into the SUV with Kike to start the slog home through Friday rush hour.

Thankfully, Kike knows every shortcut and back route in the metro area, so they both settle in for the drive and continue their brainstorming session.

"—Maybe you can have Segarra oversee the rundown of those CBP sources. It'll keep him busy while the guys keep crackin' along with the ops prep," Steve is suggesting to Javi from the front passenger seat.

"…I guess," is Javi's lukewarm mutter, shrugging before propping his elbow on the door panel to rest his cheek in his palm. "Frankly, I'm at my limit of giving a shit right now."

Steve grunts and busies himself with the cuff of his shirt sleeve. "Yeah, I'm there with you. Definitely looking forward to relaxing. Which reminds me: Connie's wanting to spend the next few days just us and the kids, so hope it's ok if we skip dinner this weekend," he drawls coolly and peeks at Javi in the rearview mirror as he adds, "I got a lot of making up to do for being so busy while she's been stuck with Olivia, sick and all."

Nodding, Javi leans back in his seat and crosses his arms as he confides, "Celina said she wants to spend the weekend just lazing around together, so no worries. She's had a hectic couple weeks too."

Humming, Kike remarks conversationally while driving down a particular shortcut, "Yeah, Celina had a stressful time! That car accident, getting sick and all that. She said it couldn't have happened at a worse time with how busy she's been with work—"

Brows shooting up in surprise, Javi shifts forward and asks, "What car accident?"

Keeping his attention on the aggressive drivers ahead, Kike answers, "Oh, early last week. Her car hit a pothole and it messed up the wheel. She had it towed to her dealer. After, she called to see if I could give her a ride to work."

Steve can feel Javi bristling in the backseat, so he turns and shoots his friend a glance. "I take it she didn't mention it?"

Features hardening, Javi tucks his chin against his chest and leans back, but his shoulders are squared with tension, even as he tries to obfuscate, "It must've not been too serious—"

Unaware of the unease the other man is trying to bottle up, Kike beeps the horn at a rude driver before zooming around him, managing to multitask and cut in, "She said the hit was so hard that the tire came off. Luckily she wasn't on the autopista when it happened. The potholes in town are no joke."

"Shit. Was she ok?" Steve asks before Javi silently spirals in the backseat. "Well, she must've been—"

"Oh yes!" Kike assures, navigating the SUV down the intersection with confidence now that the main pockets of traffic have been traversed. "She was mostly worried about how it happened when she was very busy."

Before Javier let's his emotions swirl up, the rational side of him cleaves through with reasonable observations. Well she was busy, and then sick, and you were away so she likely didn't want to make you worry. It must've not been really bad, since her car is already fixed…

"She's clearly fine, Jav. Especially after nursing your overgrown ass back to health," Steve razzes, snapping Javi out of his internal ruminating. "Lord knows she's a saint for putting up with your shit. Even if you are a reformed and sweet-talkin' asshole now."

Giving him a snarky deadpan, Javi drawls, "Damn straight I am, and you better never motherfucking forget it, pendejo."

Kike chuckles at the exchange, always thoroughly amused by the frat-like banter between the two senior agents.

As they traverse the gated neighborhood and the SUV cruises down the street in order to drop off Javi first – prolonging the witty trash-talking session – a short while later, the rookie officer rounds the vehicle into a U-turn on the street in order to pull along the curb up to the blue-and-white bungalow.

"—I'm going to take her out for a nice dinner, as a matter of fact."

"With or without the kids?"

"I'm getting a babysitter—"

"You should, then you should romance her, for once. Try to remind her why she married your ass in the first place—"

"She remembers just fine, bud. What you need to worry about is finally getting your shit together and making Celina your wife already—"

"Sonuvabitch, you're fucking relentless—"

"Because I'm right and you know it—"

"And you know I'm working on it!" Javi scoffs wryly before patting Kike on the shoulder. "Thanks for being there for her. I really appreciate it."

"No thank you needed, sir! Siempre a la órden," Kike exclaims jovially before putting the car in park so Javier can slide over to the door nearest the curb.

"Say 'hi' to Celina for me, puto," Steve cheerfully rasps.

"Give my love to Connie and the girls, hillbilly," Javi counters glibly right back before wishing Kike a good night and exiting the car.

As the SUV drives off to Steve's, Javier strides up the sidewalk towards his driveway, where your car is parked right behind his in the open-air garage. He can't help round the sleek sedan, scanning it to see if there was any remnant of damage from the accident, but finding none under the early evening light. Grunting, he lopes to the garage door entry and let's himself in with his key.

"Is that you, Javi?" you call out from the bedroom.

"Yeah," he calls back before coughing, clearing his throat and absently twirling the keys in his hand while already striding through the laundry room, tugging the knot loose on his necktie as he treks across the living room.

When he comes into his bedroom, he finds you in semi-undress.

You'd just been stripping your blouse when you heard him come in, having fussed with rolling the portable TV out of the way to be tucked into the recessed corner by the window on your side of the bed. And now you were shedding the sateen tank underneath to place it onto the dry-cleaning pile just when Javier walked in, so you were in just your white lace bra, navy blue trousers and kitten heels.

"Hey," you greet as you flounce over and kiss him hello.

He smiles and tows you closer when you attempt to waltz off to the laundry basket sitting on the bed. "When you get home, hm?"

Smirking, you loop your hands around his nape and slink up against him, smelling the cologne on his skin and the sweet smell of the nicotine gum on his breath. "Not long ago. Like ten minutes or so?"

"And you're already doing busy work," he points out amusedly, before nuzzling your jaw.

"No, I just took out the load that was left in the dryer from last night," you reply while trying not to swoon at his lips grazing down your neck. "I-I forgot to take the dry-cleaning to get dropped off, so I was pulling them together—"

"Leave it. We're having a lazy weekend now, remember?" is his honeyed baritone rumble before he kisses a path back up your neck, leaving ticklish goosebumps thanks to his moustache in his wake.

"I do, b-but I just wanted to tidy up before I started dinner," you sigh dreamily as you practically melt in his arms from how he suckles that erogenous pulse point just below your jaw.

"Let's go out for dinner," he suggests in a low baritone that makes your toes curl. "Mmm, we had these great Cuban sandwiches for lunch from a place on the Roosevelt. You in the mood for anything specific?"

You know he's buttering you up with sexy kisses and caresses, so you nudge your temple against his cheek in a playful show of dominance before encircling his waist and leaning into him. "I could go for Cuban, actually. It's been a while since I've had congrí," you purr before pulling away to coquettishly finish stripping out of your work clothes, adding over your shoulder, "I'll put something on and we can go to a place I know."

Grunting in agreement, Javi leers as you slip your heels off before shimmying out of the fitted trousers while he distractedly empties out his pockets and sets his keys on the dresser. He ogles your bare skin while shedding his blazer, fantasizing of all the things he'd love to do to you after stripping you out of your undergarments.

Picking out a pretty yellow gingham dress from the closet, quickly pulling it on and fastening the front buttons, you slip on the closest pair of open toe leather sandals you have before snickering knowingly over your shoulder, "You better hop to it, guapetón."

He snorts and picks up the pace of changing out of his work clothes, smirking when you breeze by him and pat his tush on the way to the bathroom to brush out your hair.

Soon, you're both walking down the driveway to your car, getting in and backing out onto the street. As you drive, he asks you about your day, and you tell him about the proposed gala, unaware he's paying attention to how the vehicle handles to see if he can gauge any issues with it. When you're pulling into the parking lot tucked behind the Cuban cuisine establishment on the corner of the intersection across from the city park a short while later, he's weighing his options whether to just come out and ask you about it.

But then he admonishes himself for worrying to begin with, so he reconsiders asking, for the time being.

After you've parked, Javi rounds to your side to open your door and help you out, which you still find charming and chivalrous. And with his hand to the small of your back, he escorts you around to the front entrance and takes your lead when the hostess greets you and you ask to sit on the outside terrace.

Once seated, Javi admires the pretty hanging flower pots and decorative planters that keep the terrace cozy and cool under the early twilight. Across the way is a grassy lot that looked like was used during the day for a food truck spot, and there were a few stray cats hanging out in the shade of the building.

You strategically sit adjacent Javi instead of across from him so you could lean over and reach him easily for kisses, which he's more than content to shower you with. When your waiter takes your orders and returns shortly with your drinks, you take a nice long sip from yours.

Smirking, Javi croons, "I guess there's no better place to get a Cuba Libre than at an authentic Cuban spot, hm?"

Sighing contentedly, you nod and simper, "That is correct, agente."

He chuckles and sips his own whiskey while reaching under the table to affectionately squeeze your knee. "So, besides helping organize the feds to get in on another ritzy party, how else did the rest of your day go?" is his quipping question.

Scoffing, you sneer goofily, "Hey! I did no such thing. And anyway, it's always good for the locals and the feds to find camaraderie somehow." At his wry grunt and lopsided smirk, you roll your eyes and yield, "And, any excuse for a party is something they tend to jump at here. But at least it was a decent distraction from the busy-work I did most of the day."

Swirling the amber liquid in his glass idly, Javi asks, "That upgrade program you were telling me about?"

"Yeah. All the leads had to do diagnostics of their designated sites. Going through it all to allocate the hours and funding for the upgrading has been a pain," you respond and brush the few stray strands that fluttered up across your cheek from the soft breeze wafting through the terrace. "Eventually, I'll have to make a trip out to St. Thomas to help the team lead there—"

You pause when the waiter returns with your meals, and you both thank him before you place your napkin in your lap and wish Javier a 'Buen Provecho' as you're eagerly taking a bite.

"Buen Provecho," he offers back before digging into his arroz con pollo and carne con papas. "So, you were saying something about a trip?"

"Ah, yes – to St. Thomas. Things have been so hectic I haven't had much time to plan for it," you reply smoothly before eating the tender sliver of pernil with gusto along with your forkful of rice.

"Speaking of hectic, Kike mentioned you had an issue with the car last week?" Javi remarks in a casual tone, knowing not to fish too obviously.

Internally groaning, you realize you should've expected the young officer to mention it to Javier, so you dramatically sigh as you admit, "Yes, I was driving to work after an early appointment in town and I hit the mother of all potholes after an intersection. I had just gotten the car serviced, remember? So it looks like they didn't tighten the bolts or something well enough on one of the tires and it went flying after hitting that pothole."

Javi balks, "Jesus Christ, what kind of a fuck-up was in charge and didn't check to make sure—"

Your hand clasps at his forearm reassuringly as you rush out before he can get worked up, "Mistakes happen. I'm just glad it was fixable and no one got hurt. Don't get all ornery about it, babe."

He huffs out of his nose and scowls, but at your irreverent look and patting of his forearm for him to loosen up, he grunts laconically, "You didn't mention it."

"Javier, you were busy! I didn't want to tell you while you were away. You were stressed out enough, so I didn't want that looming in the back of your mind, making you worry when there wasn't anything you could do anyway," you insist, adding, "And with everything going on this week, it kind of fell off the list of things that were front of mind."

Knowing you had a point, he relents with a nod, "You're right," and continues eating.

You enjoy the validation of being told you're right by your typically stubborn lover, so you smile around your next bite.

"How's the field office coming along?" you ask him after you've sipped your drink.

"It's finally up, and all the field agents are working out of there now. We got Segarra posted there. Steve and me will rotate being there and at our clerical office in the Federal building," he explains before taking another healthy forkful into his mouth.

"Good. And did CBP help you guys with what you needed?" is your next query as you scoop your next bite of congrí up.

"…We got some leads, but I honestly don't know if it'll amount to much. I just have this inkling that no one is really close to cracking things at all. Just treading water," he answers you candidly, giving you a one-shouldered shrug as he adds, "But then I'm used to having a clear target, and that's not how things are here, so far."

You hum at that as you chew. Once you've swallowed, you dab your lips before remarking, "Well, I'm selfishly glad you're not going to be personally in the field anymore, and that you and Steve have a team down here that is capable of all that—"

"I wasn't in the field during the Cali case," he muses, and at your sarcastic stare, he modifies, "Not as much as I'd been on previous cases, anyway."

"Javi, are you trying to forewarn me here that you're going to go on raids and extract informants personally again?" you imperiously deride as you cross your arms and lean back in your chair, gaze sharpening on his expression.

"No, I was just clarifying that I wasn't in the field much during Cali, is all. And I don't plan on being in the field at all this time around," he assures as smoothly as possible, and at your unconvinced stare, he takes your hand and squeezes it. "It's different this time, querida. The way we're structured down here? I have plenty of senior agents who know what they're doing, and all I gotta do is help cut through red tape, schmooze the local government, and coordinate the inter-agency ops, when needed," is his confident reassurance, adding sardonically, "Plus, I'm too old for chasing fuckers across rooftops and down balconies. I'm more than content to oversee the investigation and make decisions over being in the field."

Your eyes twinkle in the waning daylight as you tilt your face towards him with a coy smile. "Are you sure?" you find yourself asking, and at Javi's curious look, you give his fingers a squeeze before folding your hands into your lap, wringing them together as you're elaborating, "I've been thinking about it. You always preferred to be out front. Sitting back and relaxing in your position of authority drove you stir-crazy. I—I guess I'm just worried that you won't be able to keep yourself from getting invested. No matter how much you don't plan to or even want to."

His features etch soberly at your words. Leaning forward, he murmurs, "I meant what I said, mi amor. All the chasing – the frantic hunting for pinche asesinos is over for me. I always felt like it would only count if I was the one to nail them, but what you said? About things not going down the way I dictate or believe they should? It stuck with me, for a long time. I realized my priorities were, well, fucked up."

Surprised to hear this, you ask, "What do you mean?"

With a cleansing breath, he utters his answer with unwavering certainty.

"I wanted my life – what I did with it – to matter, and getting justice consumed all my priorities. But it wasn't until I brought it all down and ended up feeling no different – that nothing had changed but me, that I realized I had it all wrong and had lost myself to it. I don't ever want to end up there again."

He finds it liberating when it comes out of his mouth. It was a burden he didn't know he was holding onto until it was said.

"Oh, Javi," you murmur and lean close to brush your hand lovingly over his cheek. His dark, soulful eyes are gentle, and your heart aches as you whisper, "I'm sorry for ever making you doubt yourself—"

Javi gathers your hand in both of his and tells you decisively, "You didn't, cariño. What you said was a wakeup call. You made me doubt what I was doing, and why. Having to sit with that and work through it was something I'd avoided. But once I did, I realized what mattered to me was making a life, and doing the best I can to make it a good one I can be proud of."

Your features blossom into open admiration, making it easy for him to cup your cheek and brush a covetous kiss to your lips before he stares into your eyes and declares, "I want to make a life with you. And that matters to me more than anything else."

The emotion that wells up in your chest at his words steals your breath, making you want to express it the only way you can.

You scootch out of your seat so you can kiss Javier passionately before hugging him tight.

He pulls you to sit on his thigh so he can easily hold you to him, feeling relief and pride radiate through him as you nuzzle his neck. His hand cradles the back of your neck when lean back to gaze lovingly at him, and his heart skips when your eyes shine with devotion at him. Then, as if the world around you came back into focus, you girlishly slink back into your chair when you remember yourself and your surroundings.

With a sweet smile, he winks at your sheepish exhale when another dining group comes onto the terrace to sit at a larger table across from where you're both sat close to the veranda.

There was so much spinning up excitedly in your heart at his words, leaving your thoughts skipping along scenarios you both still needed to discuss and plan for, expectations you had yet to share, and desires unstated between you both. Just as you feel unsettled by thought of, What kind of life will he want to make together? You jolt at the sensation of something butting against your ankle.

You look down and realize one of the cats has come onto the terrace and is begging for food.

Javi watches you smile, then covertly glance around before shredding the rest of the roasted meat on your plate and piling the minced morsels on the floor for it.

"Come, gatito," you whisper to the orange cat, and watch it do just that, eagerly gobbling up the meat before scampering off back to its shady area on the other side of the veranda.

"That reminds me. You didn't get an annoying cat down here. How come?" is Javier's irreverent query as he nurses his drink.

Idly wiping your fingertips on your napkin, you tilt your head drolly at him as you retort, "My landlady didn't allow pets. And I didn't think it would be fair to have a cat, with how much I'd be working and traveling."

He hums, tempted to remark, 'Well when we move in together, it'll be a place we can have an inside-outside cat,' but decides against it. Instead, he muses, "Olivia has been trying to wear Steve down about getting a puppy. She didn't get one for Christmas, and got Isabel as a sister instead."

You laugh, delighted by the anecdote, and fall into banter about your now-comingled group of friends.

After sharing a flan de queso for dessert, Javier pays the tab and escorts you to the parking lot, holding your hand as you cross towards the car. He opens the passenger door for you, and you amusedly hand him your keys when he gets in on the driver's side. As he navigates out to the main intersection en route for home, you fiddle with the radio before setting it on the Magic 97.3 station, and smile as the late 80's single plays.

Snickering, he steers the wheel with one hand while he props the other behind your head rest. "We gotta go out dancing soon. When're you gonna show me the nightlife scene here, eh, dancing queen?" is his playful croon, winking at you when you give him a coquettish smirk.

"Well, that gala sounds like it'll have music and dancing. And if that's not enough, I'm up for dancing anything you want, anywhere," you flirt right back.

Pursing his full lips intriguingly, he drawls, "Square dancing?"

You snort, comically rolling your eyes as you lilt, "Ok, fine, maybe not anything. But salsa, merengue, bachata, cumbia, vallenato—"

"Lambada, perreo," he continues impishly, giving you that teasing, smoldering glance before bouncing his eyebrows suggestively.

You snicker and squeeze his jean-clad thigh, razzing, "Alright, fresco. Whatever one you're up for, I'll gladly be your dance partner."

"Good. But tonight? We're rollin' around the sheets," he cockily declares, grinning when you girlishly laugh.

You're gleeful that he's true to his word once you both get home.

It's actually a breezy night out, so you're happily cranking the bedroom windows all the way open when Javi walks in from locking up. He surprises you when you turn back from slipping off your sandals into the closet and are unfastening the first three buttons of your dress.

Encircling your waist, he holds you close while taking over unbuttoning your dress open for you while rocking you in a slow waltz-like sway. Titillated, you lean into his broad frame and nuzzle his jaw, caressing your hands up his back and smiling into his yearning kiss.

Your soft perfume and warm skin have a shiver skittering through him as you let his hands maneuver the dress off your torso and pool at your feet while his mouth sets a worshipful path along your flushing features and jaw. Sighing wistfully, you bury your fingers in the back of his hair when he trails his lips covetously down the column of your neck while his hands unclasp your bra.

"Mmm, you need to strip too, you know," you dreamily chime when you shed your bra and tug naughtily on the front of his caramel-colored button down before plucking the first few buttons open.

Scoffing ruggedly, he showily kicks his boots off and unbuckles his belt while giving you a molten look. "I'm trying to pace myself," is his husky murmur as he pauses in unzipping his jeans to let you tug his shirt's hem loose and resume unbuttoning it for him.

"No one told you to pace yourself, chulito," you tease in a sultry purr as you push his shirt off of his shoulders and pluck his jeans open before unzipping his fly.

It turns him on the way you sensually stare up at him through your lashes while shoving his jeans down before kissing along his bare chest.

Making short work of kicking them off his legs, Javier whisks you up against him and takes you to bed, where you both peel the clothes left between you off and amorously kiss and caress each other until you're salaciously fooling around.

The ceiling fan undulates the cool air over your heated forms as Javi rolls you under him while you cling to his body and giggle effervescently from his mustachioed kisses to your collar while he fidgets from your ticklish touch along his sides.

You're both content to canoodle and tease each other with nuzzles and caresses while your hips carve into each other, prolonging the delicious foreplay out while making desire stoke swelteringly where his arousal and yours press up.

Rolling to straddle him, you lusciously capture his lips with yours while gliding your palm to grind the underside of his cock along the silken heat of your cunt, relishing his groan and how his grip on your hips becomes possessive.

Breaking the kiss and nudging your nose into his cheek to get his obedience, you alluring whisper, "All I've wanted all day, is to make love with you, hermoso."

The lust in his dark eyes is scintillating as he husks, "Yeah?"

Humming sexily, you kiss him before susurrating against his panting lips, "Yes."

Javier rolls so you're on your back and he can nestle his ramrod erection into your clenching heat after hiking your leg over his hip just as he rocks forward.

You moan and arch up into him, and end up snickering breathlessly when he swears huffily, "Mmph, love, not fucking."

"It's really sexy that you know the difference, bebito," is your cheeky lilt when he clearly is trying to rein in his lascivious libido. At his haughty stare, you simper, "It is!"

Huffing amusedly out of his nose and shaking his head, Javi cracks a lopsided smile before sighing hoarsely, "Luckily for you, I've wanted to love you up all day too," as he shifts so you're both lying on your sides, facing each other while he's still inside you.

Your smile is radiant when he works his hips in that exquisitely ruinous undulation that lights you up with pleasure, leading into the passionate kisses and salacious clutching of your bodies as ecstasy pulses through your center while he groans sweet filth and earns your breathy praise and supplications for more.

And when he seats the pad of his thumb against the hood of your clit and grinds delectable pressure into it while stroking his throbbing cock deep inside your sheath, you cry out a rapturous sound and dig your fingertips into his lats, toes curling in bliss as you reach climax. Javi prolongs it by swirling circles over your pleasure point while thrusting at that angle that has him brushing against the bundle of nerves nestled where you can't reach, relishing your whimpers and mewls as you dissolve under him.

He nudges a gloating kiss into your cheek and keeps nuzzling you impishly when you sigh and smile dazedly at him before petting his brow and cupping the side of his neck lovingly as you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him down to meet your insatiable kiss.

Shifting you both so he's on his back, you take the reins of the lovemaking by grinding down on his cock and clenching your floor muscles around it while showering kisses along his cheeks, brow, jaw and neck. Your hands are braced to his chest, keeping him pinned to lie back and let you untangle the lascivious urge loose from his core as you ride him the way he loves. The sexy sight of you – skin dewy and warm, breasts bouncing from how hard and fast you're fucking yourself on him, features rapt with ecstasy while your gaze remains fixed on his – is the thing of Javi's dreams, and when your mouth falls open on a whine of his name, it's what sears him through with his release.

His gruff moan catches in his chest when you mewl and curl into him, reaching bliss and writhing in the throes of sensational gratification together.

The enchanting glee of being ravished and full hits you like a wave as the post coital haze buzzes through you. It isn't until you've melted back into yourself that you realize Javi has rolled you onto your back and is pulling out of your tingling heat.

Quivering, you whine for him to stay in bed, thinking he's going to go retrieve a washcloth. Instead, Javi hushes you with a possessive kiss that has his tongue marking its territory in your mouth before he maps a salacious path with it down your neck, the valley of your breasts, the line of your stomach and the crest of your sex.

With the flat of his tongue, he gives you gentle aftercare, careful not to lick or nuzzle your tender pussy too eagerly that would overstimulate and hurt you.

"Oh, Javi…" you hiccup airily before shivering from him blowing cool air over your scorching center before he hums and brushes a soft kiss to your womb.

His eyes gleam with contentment when he stares down at you, so you reach for him and lure him to lie on top of you, held in your arms.

Javi feels serenity fill him as your hand brushes over his hair while he rests his head on your chest, content to stay like this with you forever, if it were possible.

You feel him relax in your embrace and let out a sated exhale, the warmth of his breath puffing against your breast seeming to be a tired one, so you don't expect him to mumble in a honeyed purr, "Te quiero, mi amor."

Feeling elated, you continue to run your fingers through his hair soothingly as you whisper, "Te amo con todo mi corazón, Javier."

It's the greatest way to fall asleep – being told you love him with all your heart, while held in your arms.

So much so, Javi sleeps soundly through the night, and would've slept long into the late morning if not for the sound of loud revving of a car engine out on the street in front of the house.

Startling awake, Javi shifts up in bed and finds he's alone. Concerned, he clambers out from the rumpled covers and retrieves a pair of sweatpants from the dresser before hastily yanking them on.

"¿Querida?" he calls out as he peeks into the bathroom and finds it empty before walking out through the hallway door towards the main living space.

As he approaches the laundry room's entry, he realizes the loud car engine is coming from a vehicle idling in front of his driveway, so he goes out to see what's going on – and finds a mint-blue Bronco beach cruiser parked at the curb, with you in the driver's seat.

You beep the horn with a spritely smile before sitting up on your knees in the seat so you can shout, "Ready for a beach day, stud?"

Incredulous, he pads over barefoot down the cement drive to the sidewalk when you shut the engine off and retrieve shopping bags from the backseat. He sees you're wearing a halter top-styled peach cover-up dress and watermelon-colored two-piece bikini underneath it.

"Where'd you get this from?" he asks, holding the car door open for you so you can hop out with the bags.

"I rented it," you declare brightly before handing him the bags. "Now, these are for you, so go inside and change," is your wily command before cupping his cheek and kissing his stupefied expression off his handsome face.

Pinching his waist affectionately, you nudge Javi along back up the driveway and into the house while he peeks into the shopping bags and finds several swim trunks, flip flops, and beach shirts – all of which looked like would fit him perfectly.

"What the—I thought you wanted to spend a lazy weekend in?" Javi chuckles as you both make it into the living room.

"Well, I woke up early, and watched the news while I folded the laundry, and they said it's supposed to be a balmy, sunny day," you retort as you follow him into the bedroom, adding, "So I thought it'd be a good excuse to go for a nice seashore excursion. I can't believe you didn't have any bathing suits!"

He laughs, then coughs before answering, "I probably haven't worn one since swim team in high school, guapita."

"Alright, pick one, put it on, and let's go!" is your wily exclamation as you change your own sandals for white hibiscus-patterned flip flops you pulled from the bag.

A short while later and Javier is locking up the door before following you to the beach cruiser, rounding it to get in on the passenger's side after your climb into the driver's seat.

"—Do we need to stop anywhere?" he's asking as you turn the car on. "Any beach snacks? Towels?"

"Ah, I got a cooler filled up already, and I thought we could stop at kioskos for snacks while on the way," you tell him as you reach into the space behind your seat and pull out the lovely beach tote Javier surprised you with. "And, I got the beach towels and necessities packed in here already. So, ready to head out?" is your spunky query, winking at him.

Sitting in the seat next to you, in the light blue beach shirt and navy swim shorts, Javi smirks proudly at your dazzling smile.

"Fuckin' A, I am, bravita. Lead the way."

It's been such a long time since you both spent the day out together, that you're each appreciating every single moment while on the road, at the kiosko pit stops, and even in the stop-and-go traffic on the beach route off of the highway. The sun is out, the breeze is cool, the radio plays the pop station crisply, and the frituras are delicious as you both cruise down the northeast coast of the island, all while you and Javi laugh and banter about.

The scenery becomes more and more lush, tropical, and rural the further you cruise towards the hidden gem of a beach you're telling Javi about, wind in your hair and excitement filling your eyes as you gush, "We're gonna have a bit of a trek on foot, but I promise it's going to be worth it."

"I trust you. I'm just surprised anything is secret, with tourism being as big as it is here," he remarks good-naturedly.

"Ah, true. But there are so many little nooks along the shoreline and people tend to go to the bigger, well-known beaches across the island. My father loved exploring secluded spots, and when I was little, he'd take us to the hidden beaches he'd found growing up," is your exuberant explanation as you pull off the rural backroad onto a rough-trodden path.

Javi is impressed with your knowledge and navigation skills as you steer the beach cruiser over the terrain until you hit a slight hill that flanks a thicket on one side and more lush trees on the other. Maneuvering the vehicle around so it's already pointing back the way you drove in from, you park and put the brake on before reaching in the backseat for the tote. While you do so, Javi gets out and goes to the trunk to grab the little red cooler.

"Ok, it's gonna be about a 10 minute walk this way," you're telling him after you get out of the car and round it to the lush tree line, smiling when Javi chivalrously takes your hand and helps you step around a mucky spot that's in the path.

"You know, this kind of reminds me of that time, in Cartagena," he rumbles ruggedly while you both walk side-by-side, holding hands through the hidden footpath.

"That was just as naughty as this. Even naughtier, even," you snicker and squeeze his hand goofily.

"Shit, is this illegal?" he laconically grumbles, quickly glancing around to see if there are any 'Do not trespass' signs around, posted somewhere amongst the foliage.

"There's no such thing as illegal access to a beach, silly," you tell him, and Javi is about to point out how that doesn't answer his question, when you quickly add, "It would only be illegal if this was a naval-restricted zone, and it isn't. It's naughty because we're going to have the beach all to ourselves, which feels kinda wrong."

Grunting, he rasps, "We could've gone to a regular beach, you know. I was only teasing about lounging on a secret playa just the two of us—"

"Hey, I promised you a seashore adventure, so quit being a modest suavón," you heckle irreverently and tug him along to follow you down a veer in the path.

He chuckles, and decides to do just that, and soon enough you're both stepping around some tall, thick-leafed, cactus-like bushes between a smattering of palm trees to emerge onto the secluded beach shore that looks out on a crescent-shaped cove of turquoise, rolling waves beyond the warm, tan sands. The breeze is placidly swaying the foliage and the cawing of birds in the sunny sky add to the picturesque ambiance of the water lapping up along the coastline.

"Holy shit," Javi gapes, in awe of the beautiful seaside oasis.

Exuberantly, you tug him by his hand along towards the nice spot on the soft tan sands of beach under a shady canopy of palms, telling him, "Watch your step."

Maneuvering over some fallen palm trunks and husks, you both make quick work of staking a favorable spot.

The beach blanket is a big square Javi pins from flopping in the breeze with the red cooler and your tote at the strategic corners, and once you've both gotten down to your swimsuits and folded your clothes to stay warm in the sunny corner of it, you pull out some towels and Javi unrolls them over the blanket while you rifle through the tote.

As you do so, you coquettishly cajole him into sitting with, "C'mon, we have to wait a while before swimming," smiling when he does so before casually reclining back with his arms propped backwards.

His broad shoulders are relaxed as he stares out at the tropical water, making for a delicious sight as you distractedly retrieve the sunscreen from your tote. This hunk is all mine.

With delight, you dutifully rub sunscreen into his shoulders and back, and intend to put the lotion on your own arms and shoulders when Javi plucks the bottle from your hand and has you crawl over to sit in front of him on the towel that he'd draped down for you.

"You know, I could get used to this," Javi muses as he massages the sunscreen into your back, mindful of the bikini straps in his way. When you hum curiously, he elaborates, "Enjoying the sun and sand, staring out at the waves, lounging around with you. Going on getaways together."

"Is that so?" you singsong as you turn and smile at him over your shoulder. At his cocky smirk, you turn completely around so you can lean forward and purr teasingly, "So my plan to romance you into loving island life is working, hm?"

The way the sun catches in his dark brown eyes have them shining like copper when he grins brilliantly and leans back on his elbows so you have to loom over him sexily. "As if it took any real effort. I really like it here, preciosa," is his debonair murmur as he reaches up to tuck some rogue strands of hair behind your ear. "And, I really like my view right now."

You prop your stance with your arms draping around his shoulders and lean closer so you can kiss him tenderly on the lips, before lilting, "Good. I want this to be a place that feels like home."

The way your eyes shone with dazzling delight while the sun's rays frame you, making him feel punch-drunk, bewitch him for a second, so he's disarmed when you suddenly ruffle his hair daringly before hopping up and running down to the shore while shouting over your shoulder, "Now come catch me if you can, special agent guapito!"

Scoffing comically, Javier scrambles up and runs over the hot sand to go in after you.

The afternoon is filled with you both swimming and splashing each other, goofing around and floating in the shallows while the waves lap warmly at the surface, and canoodling buoyantly while you cling to him as you chat and he treads water for you both.

Once you're each tuckered out by the waves, you'd headed back to the beach blanket, toweled off, and lounged together under the sun, laying over your towel while you let the warm rays dry you. He retrieves beverages from the cooler for you both to enjoy while relaxing on post-swim-tired muscles.

Javi's sipping from the ice-cold can of Medalla while you set your soda aside so you can untie the straps of your bikini top before laying out on your stomach.

Staring at the expanse of naked skin exposed to the hot sun now, Javi asks, "You want me to get your back?"

"No, that's ok. I just want to even out so I don't have tan lines," you reply as you fold your arms down and rest with your head pillowed by your pile of clothes.

He hums, and you feel him shift from the spot he'd been sat, before there's a light tug on the strings of one hip on your bikini bottoms. "You forgot about these tan lines," is his rugged drawl as he unties the other hip's strings.

You giggle before sitting up on your folded arms and sassily chastising, "Only you see those tan lines, fresco. So I wasn't planning on going Blue Lagoon out here—!"

"Never saw it," Javi drolly retorts, earning your comical scoff. He mischievously continues, "You said this is a secluded spot, so…" and deliberately tugs the undone bikini bottom off of you.

Laughing, you reply, "Well, the nearest community from here is over a mile away, and the fisherman don't tend to come this way," and roll sidelong to give him a sultry look as you tease, "You really never saw that movie?"

"No way," he snickers, fanning his fingers along the curve of your buttocks to brush off the sand sticking to your cheeks. At your amused, albeit dubious hum, Javier concedes, "My cousins did, though, and talked about how cheesy it was. And, it just seemed weird to have such a young girl prancing around naked like that in a movie."

"Ah, good point," you chime before going to stretch out onto your back, as if you're not completely nude and under the warm rays of the sun. With your eyes closed, you relax and let out a cleansing sigh.

Despite his coaxing, Javi looks around to make sure no one is peeping from the trees at you before asking, "What's the movie about, again?" and resumes drinking from his beer can as he shuffles towards your sunbathing form.

You're basking in the warm heat of the sun and the tranquil breeze as you sense his form sidle close to you.

"It's about two kids who get shipwrecked on a deserted island in the South Pacific during the Victorian era. They grow up together, hit puberty, and start fooling around—"

He watches your breath hitch when his fingertips cooled by the condensation of the beer can skim teasingly along your lithe belly to brush off some clinging sand grains from your skin. "Ah, ok yeah, I remember Carla joking about that," he remarks smoothly while trailing his touch in lazy circles up your midriff towards your breasts, skimming a path up the valley of your sternum before tracing them along your collarbones. "Don't they start fucking like animals in heat?"

It's taking everything in you to keep your eyes closed and not sit up and pounce on him right now, especially when his touch skims back down to map your left areola before he pinches your nipple. Biting back a gasp, you answer tightly, "Y-Yes, and then she gets pregnant but they don't know what's happening to her because they never got the birds and the bees talk."

With an intrigued hum, Javi admires your naked form, relishing how it looks under a sunny sky. The way your nipples hardened even with the heat of the sun keeping your skin warm and dewy. How your tummy tensed with excitement at his touch. You clench your thighs together now, and it draws his gaze to the chalice of your pelvis and the soft curls at your mound, so he swipes more condensation from his can onto his fingers and guides his cooled digits to trace at the heat between your thighs.

Your eyes open as you stifle a mewl and blush furiously under his handsome stare. "Does it have a happy ending?" is his cool query, while his fingers rub delicious pleasure into your now throbbing clitoris, making your cunt drip with need.

Not trusting your voice, you nod and bite your bottom lip as to not whimper too loudly, one hand gripping the towel underneath you while the other clutches at his elbow.

"Maybe we can find a deserted island and spend all our time fooling around," is his canela-roughened rumble in your ear as his fingers work to get you off.

Arching, your thighs clamp around his hand when you orgasm, hearty cry of, 'Javi!' getting muffled against the back of your palm while Javi watches you ride out the waves of pleasure, feeling content and accomplished.

The tingly bliss that settles in as you lay sated and naked under the sunshine fills you with splendor, making you sigh and stare up dreamily at Javier while he licks his fingers clean of your climax before using the edge of the towel to give you aftercare.

Pleased with himself, Javi was about to pick up his can to finish the beer, when you surprise him by taking it from him, draining it with one long drink, and then setting it aside before nudging him to lean back so you can straddle his hips as you slip your hands down the front of his swim trunks.

His erection is thick and throbbing in your palms, and Javi swears hotly before gripping your waist and hitching gruffly with warning, "Q-Querida, we shouldn't—"

"Shh, lay back and let me make love to you, sweet boy," you purr sensually at him before nuzzling his cheek and capturing his lips with yours.

Savage pride flares up in him at your words, so he obeys and lets you push his swim trunks down to free his rock-hard cock, and keeps his hands on your waist while you plunge yourself down on it with slow undulations that have your sheath squeezing and gripping around his length.

Truthfully, if anyone had come upon you and spied from the tree lines, neither of you would've noticed. Not with how fixated on each other's pleasure you both were.

It feels surreal. Being outside, under a tropical sky, the scent of salt, sunscreen, sweat and the heat of the sun above and the sand beneath the blanket mingled with the cool air from the sea and the sounds of untouched nature mixing with your comingled cries of pleasure. It's all a sensory overload. And the sight of you in your naked glory, rocking up and down on his throbbing arousal, is enthralling. You are intent on giving into the need you feel burning under his skin – in the desperate grip of his hands as they clutch your curves with every buck and roll of your hips over him.

Having this little moment of paradise with each other only stokes the blazing desire to quickly sweep up between you, and you can feel Javi's muscles begin to tense under your palms – see how lustrous and dark his eyes have gone with lust.

So, you mewl, "Dámelo, mi amor," as you start to ride him hard, the way you know drives him wild. "I want it, Javi—"

The world spins when Javi sits up and rolls so you're on your back while he looms over you and seats his thumb over the hood of your clit, grinding the thrumming pleasure point deftly and getting you there with him just as his cock starts to swell inside of you.

Your cry of ecstasy is pitched and airy as you come, walls fluttering around him just as he feels the tether of pleasure snap loose in his center. Rapt with delirious bliss, you watch Javi pull out of your drenched heat and stroke himself off to spill his release over your womb and taut tummy as he groans hoarsely from the dizzying effort of staying propped above you while his senses buzz.

When he curls down to sidle next to you with a husky, "Oh fuck," between panting breaths, you smile and cuddle close. "That…that was fucking hot, querida."

Letting out a pleased grunt, you absently trail your fingertips in the pearly essence he left on your skin, before lulling your head to nose into his neck and tut, "It's a naughty getaway. Of course it'd be hot, chulito."

He snorts at that and kisses on you dotingly before shimmying his trunks back up and using the damp towel he'd dried off with earlier to wipe up his cum, then swiping the terrycloth material between your thighs gingerly. You gorgeously smile up at him from heavy-lidded eyes and blushed features as he tends to you, so he kisses your cheek and whispers tenderly, "Wanna lounge for a bit?"

You nod, close your eyes and sigh whimsically, completely uncaring that you're still in the nude. Javi gives a cautionary glance around before laying on his side in a strategic way that allows his broad frame to keep you blocked from view before he stretches out next to you and rests his head on his folded arm.

Thanks to the sun moving in the sky, you both end up napping in the heat-kissed shade, lulled into relaxation by the sound of the waves and the rustling of the palms from the tropical breeze.

When he wakes a short while later, he ends up appreciatively staring at your placid expression. He wishes he could take a picture, and snickers at the thought of your appalled reaction of being snapped in the nude like this.

Your skin is warm as he drapes a towel over your form, which stirs you awake. And when you stare up at him with a sleepy smile, he leans down and kisses you tenderly on the lips before helping you sit up to cuddle into his side as you get your bearings.

Seeing the sun beginning to wane towards the horizon, you both decide to throw your clothes back on and pack up everything so you can make the trek back along the path to the car while it's still light out. You're both pleasantly tan and content as you walk through the lush greenery, and once you're back at the beach cruiser, Javi stores the cooler in the trunk and helps you climb up into the driver's seat before getting in on the passenger's side.

It feels wonderfully surreal that you got to spend the day with him like this, and the giddy contentment of it flutters up from your tummy as you drive and banter in flirty repartee – with every smile and laugh he lets loose.

After getting back to the metropolitan area, you drive to the rental shop, drop off the beach cruiser and get everything into your sedan before Javi chivalrously offers to drive you both home.

The sunset has already come and gone by the time he's pulling up into his driveway and parking behind his car.

Once you've both exited and tend to the beach items in your care, Javi stretches his back as he remarks, "Shit, I am beat."

"It was all the swimming against the waves," you reply while pulling out the blanket from the beach to shake it loose of any sand over the grassy side lot of the fenced in yard from the inside of the marquesina.

With the cooler in his hand, Javi shuts the trunk and rounds the car to walk up to the interior of the garage as you continue shaking out the towels of sand before following him up once he's unlocked the door.

Smugly, he drawls, "That, and all the sun. Not to mention the hot little number—"

His charming gloat becomes a grunt when you pat his tush for him to quit talking filth so you can take your tired self and mosey into the house.

"I'm going to run everything in the wash, so make sure to drop your trunks in too," you tell him with the blanket bundled in your arm and the beach tote on your shoulder, spritely look in your eyes teasing.

"Alright. I'll do that after I dump the ice out of this," is his baritone rumble as he holds the door open for you.

"Ok. I'll run the shower too once I'm done, if you wanna join?" is your flirty invitation as you prep the washer with everything from the beach day.

"Like you need to ask," he chuckles, pinching your side affectionately before loping down the hall towards the kitchen.

Smiling, you quickly set the machine on its cycle before retrieving your other belongings from the tote and taking it down to the bedroom. Once you've slipped them back into your purse and stored the beach tote on a shelf in the closet, you head to the bathroom to run the shower.

You'd just finished getting the eucalyptus stems down from the shower head to be set aside on the vanity, then started reaching behind yourself to undo the halter drawstring of your dress when you feel Javier come up behind you and caress his touch up your bare back before pulling the fastening loose for you.

His lips graze a teasing path from the back of your shoulder up the slope of your neck as he works the dress down your body to pool at your feet, earning a breathy giggle and for you to take his hands and loop his embrace around your waist.

It's then when he presses flush against you from behind that you feel he's already naked, so you snicker, "Did you strut in the buff through the house?"

"You said to put my swimsuit in the wash, mandona," he purrs puckishly into your ear as he starts herding you towards the shower stall. "C'mon, let's get the saltwater out of our hair."

You merrily oblige your brazen hunk, and soon are under the hot cascade, rinsing the soap and suds from your hair while Javi works his fingers through your waterlogged tresses for you.

"Mmm, your turn," is your blithe sigh as you turn and maneuver around him so he's facing the showerhead. His chuckle is warm as you lather the shampoo into his hair, so you deride, "What's so funny, chavón?"

"I just pictured how silly we probably look right now. With you on your tippy toes, washing my hair for me," is his humored retort, and he makes his point by standing on tiptoe so you have a hard time reaching the crown of his soapy curls.

Scoffing, you playfully swat his bicep and grunt for him to stop being silly. "Pórtate bien, fresco. Or else you're getting a spankin' before bedtime," is your saucy threat.

With an amused snort, he resumes letting you wash his hair, and ends up smirking into the showerhead's spray after you daringly nudge his head into the cascade.

Not to be outdone, Javi shifts carefully around and shakes the excess water logged in his thick hair to splash about, wetting your face and earning a squeal of laughter from you as you try to pinch his sides for him to stop.

"You dork!"

"You missed some suds, baby."

"You're incorrigible!"

"You love it, bravita."

With a haughty huff, you roll your eyes and slick his hair back from his forehead before pouting goofily and conceding, "Dammit, I do."

His laugh fills your chest with joy and makes you wrap your arms around his shoulders so you can kiss his cheek and nuzzle his jaw cutely.

He lets you put conditioner in his hair, but while you slather some into your own, he tries to stifle a yawn as he soaps himself up.

"Alright. My hair's gonna take a while, so you finish up and get the room ready for bed?" you suggest as you dutifully maneuver around again so he can face the cascade.

"Yes, patrona," is his crooning musing as he turns so the water can rain down on the crown of his head before washing down his shoulders and back. "Air on tonight?"

"Yeah," you retort and smile when he slicks the water back from his hair and cups your side so he can lean down and kiss your lips before shimmying by you to open the glass stall door.

"I'll lock up the house too," he remarks as he towels dry before wrapping the fluffy terrycloth around his waist and exiting through the bedroom door of the bathroom.

You're smitten as you luxuriate in the shower for a little longer, and after getting out and combing your hair, you day dream about all the fun spent at the beach with Javi. By the time you're finished blow drying your luscious hair, you are fantasizing about more little getaways with Javi. Driving up to el campo and having a picnic? Would he want to chinchorrear down to the western coast? Oh, maybe we could stay at a bed and breakfast on the beach in the south?

Whimsically thinking of all the possibilities, you hang up your towel and go into the bedroom, expecting to find Javier with a whiskey, lounging in bed while watching the evening news.

Instead, you find him passed out in bed, lying on his back with one arm draped over his stomach – TV remote in hand – and the other jammed behind the pillows his head was propped up against. He didn't even bother with boxers or sleep bottoms, instead looking like he sprawled out on the bed in his birthday suit and tossed the comforter over his lap before exhaustion took a hold of him. The air conditioner's ambient hum and the undulating current of cooled air clearly lulled him to sleep, and you can't help fawn at how peaceful he is in his well-earned slumber, albeit snoring with his mouth open.

You turn off the light of the bathroom before shutting the door and tiptoeing soundlessly to your side of the bed, where he'd left the lamplight on and had a nice glass of water waiting for you.

It makes your heart summersault in your chest. God, I love this man so much.

Slinking into bed with him, you turn off the lamp, gently grab the remote, and shut the TV before pulling the comforter up to cover you both.

With your head resting on his chest, you cuddle into him and melt when he shifts in his sleep so he can wrap his arm around your back and nuzzle the top of your hair. It feels like sheer bliss fills you up, and it's easy for you to relax and fall asleep, heart feeling full and settled.

You both spend Sunday in bed, with meals shared over the covers breaking up the moments of carnal delight underneath the covers.

By the time the work week begins, you're both refreshed, albeit suntanned, when you return to your hectic schedules.

Javier gets razzed by Steve for looking like he spent the weekend 'canoodling under the sun' with you, and he tells you about it while he makes dinner later that night.

Once midweek comes around, you're telling Javi about the barbecue plans for Saturday, and he passes it along to Steve the following morning while they're walking back to their office. Since work travel was over for the next few weeks, and everyone was finally recovered from the flu, you, Anita and Connie had agreed that it seemed like the perfect time to all get together and socialize around a grill in a shady backyard, with drinks and delicious dishes.

"That'll be nice. I'll get Connie to make her famous mac n'cheese, and I got my mom's succotash recipe," Steve volunteered to Javier, looking forward to unwinding over good food and drinks with Connie and other adults without chatter about work or reruns of Barney the Dinosaur for a change.

Making it to the end of the busy week, you don't even realize you've put all previous worries and stresses out of your mind completely. Instead, you're looking forward to asking Javi if he got the email invitation to the gala you'd mentioned the week prior.

After you both get home to his place, you go to his bedroom to get out of your work outfit while you eagerly tell him about the details for the ritzy shindig.

"—Oh, I don't use that thing. I have my admin or Segarra review messages and let me know."

"Ugh, really? You have a state-of-the-art laptop, Javier. Don't tell me you're gonna keep dodging using it—"

"Maybe I'd bother with it, after some tutoring from the sexy director who makes it look oh-so-easy to use—"

Exhaling dramatically to keep from laughing while you're unbuttoning your blouse, you prod, "So? Does that mean you weren't informed of the gala's details?"

Rolling up his shirt sleeves before plunking himself down on the bed, he knowingly asks, "You really wanna go to that?"

Pausing in undressing the rest of your work ensemble off, you frown. "You don't want to?"

"Oh, I do. I'm just surprised you want to go together. Making it public and all," is his smartass, albeit goading purr as he reclines on the bed with his hands folded behind his head. "We haven't told Mercer—"

Deciding two can play this instigating game, you scathe smoothly, "We haven't had a chance to, seeing as you're the one that's been busy and traveling."

Javi's lips snap shut into a pout, brows knitting together peevishly, because you are absolutely right.

"And anyway…we don't need his permission or blessing. Telling him would be a courtesy," you state charmingly as you finish stripping out of your fitted slacks, tossing them aside in the hamper with your matching blouse before going to the foot of the bed and crawling over to prowl towards him in only your black bra and panty set. His pout melts into that chiseled expression of want when you loom over him before plucking one of his shirt buttons undone as you chime, "That's if he hasn't heard any rumors already."

Humming, Javi sits up so he can tow you to lounge next to him as he pivots onto his hip.

You smirk coquettishly at him as he possessively caresses his hand along the curve of your derrière before grumbling, "The rumors from before, or are there ones about us being together now?"

"Well, definitely about us being secretly together back at the embassy. I'm actually not very sure if there are rumors about us being together currently," is your frank retort as you toy with undoing the rest of his shirt's buttons.

"I know one asshole who knows about us and doesn't care," Javi grouses in a surly tone, and at your curious hum, he huffs, "That Bozzi guy, the head of the FBI down here?"

Expecting you to tut and chastise him for being unjustifiably jealous, Javi's instead surprised when you scoff and ridicule, "Ugh, he is so insufferable! Is that why he's been laying it on so thick? Some macho bravado thing where he's trying to woo me or something?"

"…Wait. He's tried to flirt with you?" Javier growls, expression etching with aggravation.

You sigh, knowing he's going to get ornery now, but figure it was your own fault for even instigating the conversation. "Yes, but he's been overly friendly since I started working at the federal building," you tell him, seeing his nostrils flare crossly from his exhale as his temper starts to boil, so you quickly redirect, "Wait, how do you know he's onto us and doesn't care?"

Glowering, Javi admits, "That prick was overheard telling Vernon, from the ATF, that you'd caught his eye and he'd be trying to romance you. When Vernon told him you were already spoken for as far as he'd heard, Bozzi told him that there wasn't a ring on your finger so you were fair game…"

At hearing that, instead of being outraged, you burst into laughter. "What?! I'm "fair game"?! What a chauvinist," you heckle humorously and shake your head before noticing Javier's not amused. "Ay, Javi. You're really jealous over that fool?" is your sassy huff before you nudge his shoulder and bossily assure, "Quit being surly and listen! Now that I know he's flirting me up for sport and to be disrespectful of our relationship, I'll put him in his place the next time he tries to fish and banter."

Cracking a smile, Javi gruffly drawls, "It might be safer to just put a ring on your finger, guapita."

Mirthfully, you laugh – obviously not even reading much into the ring suggestion being anything more than repartee, and snicker with effervescent charm, "And miss out on the satisfaction of wiping that cocky smirk from his face?"

"I'd much rather be the one to do that, with my fist," he counters with a rugged baritone that makes a little thrill skitter up your spine, combined by his dark brewed eyes pinning you with a purposeful look. "Anyway…next time I'm in the federal building for the week, we'll go meet with Mercer."

Smiling, you fold your arms along his shoulders and lean into him as you purr, "Ok, gruñón. Sounds like a plan," before kissing him sultrily on the lips.

The next morning is spent running around doing errands before heading to your apartment after spending the whole week at Javier's. You both lug everything up from your carport spot and stop at the lobby so you can pick up any deliveries from your unit's mail slot, then head into the elevator together.

"—We don't have to spend the whole week at my place, babe. I just want to tend to things I neglected," you're telling him after the elevator doors open to your floor and you both exit with everything in hand.

"I'm fine with alternating. Plus with that gala at the end of next week, it'll be easier to go there from here," Javi is assuring as you unlock the door and enter your apartment.

You put the two grocery bags and stack of mail you were carrying onto the kitchen counter. "Yeah, it's going to be at El San Juan Hotel," you tell him as you start to put away the perishable items and leave out the ingredients for the food you'd be making to take over to the barbecue in the afternoon. Rounding the counter, you kick your shoes off next to the stool and pad barefoot over to play the messages left on your answering machine before going back to the kitchen to get the big pitcher you use to water your plants.

Javier dutifully carries the big bag of toiletries he bought at the grocery store so he didn't have to keep living out of his travel bag at your place, and lopes down the hall with it. His duffle is filled with new clothes to leave at your place in hung on his shoulder, and he's carefully carrying the dry-cleaning you picked up on the way over while balancing the shopping bag. He tosses the duffle onto the bed and shifts the bag in one arm as he's hanging the dry-cleaning up in the closet, all while listening to your answering machine play through the messages down the hall.

"—Mija, hope all is well. I should be home in a few weeks, but was hoping to check in and see how you're doing. Give me a call when you can," he hears your father's deep baritone voice echo from the living room, along with your musing sigh as you close the sliding door after watering your plants in order to go into the kitchen cabinet for the pots and pans that you'll need.

"You gonna call him back?" Javi calls out as he carries the bag into the bathroom in order to unpack the toiletries.

"When are you going to call your father, mister?" you razz right back, but he can hear the grin in your voice.

"Maybe tomorrow," Javi answers, smiling at your musing singsong of a hum as he opens the medicine cabinet and places his shaving cream, razor handle and replacement heads in, followed by his aftershave. "Probably call him in the evening, since he'll likely be coming back from Sunday dinner at my aunt's," is his remark as he continues storing his shampoo and soap on the rack in the shower stall, then goes to store his cologne and deodorant on the vanity before opening the small drawer next to the sink counter in order to place the set of clippers he'd bought to trim his moustache with, along with the second hair comb that came in the packaging with the main comb he'd just placed in the cylindrical holder with your hairbrush.

But then his attention pauses on the item that's already in the drawer, making all thoughts skid to a halt.

"That sounds nice. I might wait to call mine, though," you remark out loud after the answering machine starts playing the next message.

While it does so, and you listen to the caller hesitate before hanging up – which triggers you to remember the same thing had happened weeks ago, Javier is picking up the circular plastic case from the drawer before opening it to look at the birth control pill pack within.

His heart skips a beat and adrenaline races through his bloodstream at seeing the month supply of pills was intact, save for a week and two days' worth of pills missing; the plastic confines of which were popped empty. Javi wracks his brain, trying to remember the last time he saw you reach into your purse for your contraceptives, or whenever you'd taken one of the little rounded pills with a glass of water.

Dimly, he realizes that he cannot recall a single time seeing you take the pill since he'd been on the island.

"—Hola, nena. Call me when you get this. Rafa wants our help ring shopping for Naida! Let me know what day works for you. Llámame, bye!" Zoraida's voice chipperly directs from the answering machine, which makes you smile and disregard the message before it, and for you to ignore the telemarketer message that starts to play next while you start to prepare the dishes for the barbecue.

"Oh, I forgot to ask! Do you like your potato salad with mayonnaise, or without it?" you call out as you begin to peel the potatoes while the water pot heats on the burner.

Javier is so gob smacked by the discovery of the birth control case and his fruitless attempt to find a date or label that could answer when you stopped taking the pills that it takes his brain a moment to register your question.

"Uh, without! B-But, whatever you feel like making—"

"Ellis likes his with mayonnaise, so I'll just make two; one with, and one without," you assure as you run the sink tap to rinse the potatoes.

Javi nods vacantly, still staring at the birth control, as if the little, different shades of blue pills will reveal to him the answer. She hasn't been here in over a week, so at the very least…

He gulps, realizing that didn't mean you'd forgotten to take them. After all, you'd always kept the case in your purse. The fact it was in the sink vanity's drawer meant something very different.

"Did you find enough drawer space for your stuff?" your voice calls out from the kitchen, snapping Javier out of his ruminating to hurriedly return the birth control case back to the drawer and shut it soundlessly.

You do hear the sound of his footsteps moving in the back of the hall, as if from one room to another, so you deposit the potatoes in the boiling water before striding down to check on him.

"You need me to move anything?" is your query as you round into the doorway of your bedroom and find Javier sorting through his duffle, with a few items set into stacks on the bed already.

He clears his throat before replying, "No, no I think there's plenty of room still in the drawer."

Briskly walking towards your dresser, you open the top drawer and arrange a few items more neatly so there's more storage space. "Just go ahead and use any of the empty space in these to put your folded stuff, and leave any of your shirts on the chair so I can iron them later," is your jovial instruction as you grab a hair scrunchy and quickly twist your hair up into a bun so it's out of the way while you cook.

Javi grunts in acknowledgement and hurriedly dumps the rest of the items in his duffle onto the bed so he can duck out into the closet to store the bag before you turn and notice how addled he looks. "So what time are we going over?" he asks, weighing his options on whether to confront you about the birth control pills now, or later. Or should he bring it up at all? Should he wait for you to tell him what's going on?

"I figure as soon as the food is ready and I can pack it for the drive over? So, about an hour or so?" you reply as you go to open the windows in your bedroom to have the air flow increase and cool the space. "I just want to stop at Sweet Ann Cakes to pick up a tarta de frutas on the way. Oh! That reminds me, I have to call ahead for it," is your rushed remark as you run to grab the phone from the console in the living room and do just that.

Internally swearing, Javi decides he can't bring it up. Not before the barbecue. If at all today.

So, he stews about how to eventually broach the topic while he stores his clothes in the dresser, and his mind spins up with what ifs.

Maybe she's taking a different medication…Or she just takes it at a time I'm not around?

He gulps as the next thought barrels over them all.

What if she's just afraid to tell me…that because of everything that's happened between us, she's scared to tell me she's pregnant?

Just when he feels like he's going to gnaw a raw spot into the inside of his cheek from absently worrying it between his teeth, he hears your footfalls return from the hall.

"Oh, by the way, here."

Javi turns and is surprised to see a set of keys on a hibiscus-shaped keychain ring you hold up and dangle invitingly for him to take.

"Long overdue, especially since I got your house keys without your permission, technically," is your flirty musing, expression open and expectant for his wry comment.

That warm feeling that itches behind his breastbone has him proudly taking the keys before pulling you into his arms and kissing you amorously.

You kiss him with gusto before leaning back and snickering, "Mmm, quit wooing me! I got food on the stove," and affectionately squeezing his waist before rushing to sprint back down to the kitchen with, "Keep unpacking, guapetón."

He manages to keep his anxious thoughts guarded after that, easily maintaining them while you're busying yourself in the kitchen. Then, whilst he dutifully carries the packed dishes down to the car for you while you rush to finish getting ready, he focuses on feeling proud that you trust him enough to give him the keys to your place. It helps stopping his thoughts from getting preoccupied with the what ifs stampeding through his mind while he drives you to the cute artisanal bakery so you can hurry in and pick up the cake.

"Cooking three dishes should be more than enough for your barbecue contribution, no?" he can't help ask as you unfasten your seatbelt and shoulder your purse.

"It is, but I thought it'd be nice to have something for dessert," you chime lightly before leaning over the center console to kiss his cheek. "Be right back!"

He watches you stride up to the entrance, checking out your denim short-clad ass and the way your hair sways in the wind, black tunic top with red embroidery fluttering with your movements as you go into the shop, and he lets out the breath he didn't know he was holding.

You'd been looking forward to the gathering for weeks, and when you'd come down to the car in the flirty ensemble, wearing one of your favorite tunic tops? Happy and vibrantly chatting away? His stubborn will cemented his decision, so he internally insisted that he keep it all in check.

Fuck's sake. Do not ruin this day, you jackass.

The mantra is on loop in his head once you come back out with the cake, and the entire drive over to the suburban neighborhood Ellis and Anita live at.

It's a quiet suburb within walking distance of many of the parks in the area, and about twenty minutes west of Javier and Steve's gated neighborhood, and as you direct him down the avenue to turn into the main entrance, he wonders to himself if soon you'll both need to go house hunting for a bigger abode.

"There, that's their place. You can park right behind that car. That's Anita's, and I'm sure she's not going to be driving out," you point and tell him, balancing the boxed-up cake on your lap.

Doing as you directed, Javi quickly parks, turns the car off, and helps you retrieve the food from the backseat.

Anita's already opening the door and hustling out to help before you've both finished closing the car doors.

"Hey, guys! Hold on, let us help. Ellis! Come out and help with the food. Oh, is this the arroz con pollo?! I told you not to go through the trouble, Celina—!"

"Ah, stop. It's no trouble at all!" you convivially dismiss as you kiss her hello on the cheek.

"Score! You brought that delicious cake too?!" you hear Ellis cheer affably as he comes over and grabs one of the totes housing the two versions of potato salad before clapping Javier on the shoulder in greeting. "You spoil us."

"Nah, that's all her," Javi chuckles and nods towards you before kissing Anita hello on the cheek and grabbing the boxed cake from you chivalrously so he can carry it in for you.

You can't help check him out as he chats with Ellis and walks towards the entrance, loving how those blue 'fuck me' jeans sculpt to his ass and his long legs, and how the soft yellow button-down shirt clings to his broad shoulders while the sleeves hike up his muscular biceps.

Anita catches your eye and wiggles her brows knowingly at you, so you stifle a giggle and nudge her to walk ahead of you.

Once you're all inside the air-conditioned single-story home, Javier is offered a beer and ushered out to the back patio where the grill is and the adjacent sitting area where Anita's parents are. After you and Anita store the food to stay warm on the stove and put the cake box in the fridge, you go out and join the boys as Javier is politely shaking hands with Anita's folks.

After greeting them as well, you dramatically turn towards your friends. "And where is the cutie?" you inquire and make grabby hands, as if to say, 'I want to see the baby.'

"Oh, come inside. She's down for her nap," Anita cheerily replies and gestures for you and Javi to follow her. "Steve and Connie should be here soon with the kids. Do you think Olivia will like the swing set?"

"I guess we'll find out," Javi drawls irreverently as he puts his beer down on the patio table, cups your lower back and ushers you through the sliding door while you both follow your friend towards the side of the house with the bedrooms.

As you walk by a credenza that's against the wall across from the space between the living room and kitchen, you notice the big flower arrangement you'd let Ellis take for Valentine's was set behind some framed photos among the pretty artisan crafts from Colombia that decorated the table top.

"Wow, those flowers are pretty," you point out, admiring how many of the blooms from the original bouquet were still thriving.

"Aren't they so lovely!? Ellis surprised me with that arrangement for Valentine's Day," she practically swoons, smiling brightly as you expertly feign like it was the first time that you'd seen the lavish bouquet.

Javier realizes that is the arrangement that was sent to you anonymously at the office, and it makes his hackles rise, knowing someone was vying for your affection with such an ostentatious gift. But, before he can comment, he notices one of the picture frames houses a photo of you and another man, stood side-by-side under what looks like the crossing of a church – with the altar in the background, and an adorable looking baby dressed in white cradled in your arms.

"Who's that?" Javi finds himself asking as he points at the tall, dark-haired and blue-eyed attractive man.

Anita squints knowingly over at you while she answers, "Oh, that's Ellis' little brother, Trevor. He and Celina are Delilah's godparents."

"Hmph," Javi hums tactfully before grunting at your wry elbow to his side.

"No te pongas celoso, querido."

"He's got his arm around you, though."

"For the picture, obviously!"

Laughing, Anita assures, "Don't worry, Javi. Trevor was interested, but Celina turned him down—"

"Anita!" you exclaim admonishingly and scoff when she innocently shrugs.

Javi showily puts his arm around your shoulders and puckishly mutters, "See? I'm justified."

"Hush, chavón. You're holding up the tour," is your quippy lilt as you loop your arm around his waist and squeeze with mischievous affection.

Getting to the end of the hall and opening the door quietly, you both follow Anita into the darkened bedroom towards the baby's crib. Javi smiles warmly when you lean down and brush the wispy curls framing her ear, smitten with how your eyes fill with nothing but doting sweetness for the little one. It makes heat bristle in his apex and something fledgling quiver in his chest.

Cautiously exiting the bedroom to not stir the baby, you all walk back to the patio while you and Anita gush about how cute Delilah is.

"—She's finally sleeping better, which is a relief. Ellis wants to take her to Sears and get her pictures done, but I think she's still too small for all that," Anita is telling you both as you walk out to rejoin the others.

"Give it a month or two, and then she should be big enough to pose for a photoshoot!" Ellis insists affably as he hands Javier back his beer before tending to the grill while remarking, "Got about an hour on the drumsticks, but the ribs are almost ready. I got a few steaks we can throw on later, too."

The doorbell chimes from inside the house, so Anita rushes to answer the front door, and returns a few minutes later with the Murphys in tow.

"What, you running on Puerto Rican time now?" Javier can help razz as he sets his beer aside and says hello to Connie before pulling out a patio chair for her.

"Yeah, right. Isabel spilled a whole sippy cup's worth of juice all over herself right as we were getting her in the car seat," Steve laments while the baby in his arm happily tugs on the front of his red polo's collar.

Since he had the baby's carrier in his other hand, Connie was carrying the diaper bag and a tote with all the potluck dishes she'd made, while Olivia carried her latest favorite dolly.

"Aww. Well you made in just in time," you chime as you kiss Steve hello on the cheek and smile at the baby before greeting Connie in the same fashion.

Ellis greets them in turn before Anita helps divest them of the dishes and sets up a spot for the carrier while you and Javi introduce the Murphys to Anita's parents.

"Mami, can I go on the swing?" Olivia asks, big brown eyes pleading as Connie hurriedly tries to brush her hair from her face after placing the heavy diaper bag down on the patio chair for now.

"Have you said hello to everyone first?" is her motherly retort as she pulls her periwinkle blouse's hem down and smoothens out her light wash jean shorts from rolling up her thighs.

Dutifully, Olivia goes up to Javi and waves for him to lean down so she can kiss him on the cheek. "Hi!" and then scampers over to do the same with you before going to the other adults and waving hello. "Can you push me on the swing?" she asks Javi after scampering back towards him from placing her dolly on a patio chair.

"Sure thing," he warmly retorts before gesturing for you to come along as he offers, "I can push you both. As high as you want."

Snickering, you joke, "Only if I get to push you later."

"Fine by me," Javi drawls charismatically.

"Sit and take a load off, you two," Anita insists amiably to the Murphys, setting out the appetizers and refreshments for everyone to enjoy.

"I wish I had a swing set at home."

"I thought you liked going to the park?"

"I do, but I wish I had a swing set and a playhouse. Some of my friends at school have them in their backyard. Do you have a swing where you live, Celina?"

"I don't, so this is fun," you reply to the little girl as you both swing along while Javi pushes you both gently, at the same time.

While you three are at the swing set, you don't realize Connie has pulled Steve's camera out from the diaper bag and silently cajoled him to switch giving her Isabel for it so he can snap a few pictures of you three having fun.

Just as Anita and Ellis are answering questions about where they got the backyard set, the sudden sound of staticky crying filters over from the baby monitor they'd set out on one of the outdoor accent tables by the sliding door. Anita goes inside to check on the baby while Ellis keeps the conversation going.

"—Lucked out today. Just sunny and breezy. Perfect grillin' weather," is his musing, sipping from his beer before asking, "Oh, does Olivia like hot dogs? I have some I can throw on the grill."

"You hungry, Olivia?" Steve shouts over at the precocious girl who is swinging a little higher than he expected. "Take it easy, Jav!"

"What? She asked to go higher," Javier retorts while Olivia lets out a conspiratorial giggle.

"Javi, más suave," you amusedly tut at him, so he chivalrously guides Olivia's swing to slow its momentum a bit, before naughtily pushing you higher. "Javier!"

He laughs and quickly takes hold of your seat to help slow the momentum for you, and you have to try to look rueful instead of exhilarated when you turn and glower at him.

"Que malo eres," you snipe humorously under your breath as you leave the swing and pinch his arm lightly.

Olivia parrots, "Javi es malo."

Grinning, you triumphantly watch Javier pout as he litigates to the little girl, "No soy malo de verdad."

"Um, what's that mean?" she pipes as she hops down from the swing seat.

"He's just saying he's not really bad," you answer for him and lean up to kiss him on the cheek. "But he was being a silly brat."

"Hmph," he grumbles wordlessly and pulls a mock frown, which only makes Olivia laugh. "Alright, let's go have snacks."

The little girl marches over to the patio table to do just that, so you flirtatiously wink at Javi and hold your hand out for him. Smirking, he takes it, and you tow him down to join everyone around the table.

Anita emerges from the house with Delilah held in the crook of her arm while she swishes the bottle of baby formula. "Amá, can you take her for me? I want to make drinks for the girls," she asks of her mother.

"Let her madrina have some face time," you volunteer and go over so Anita can hand you the baby and bottle before you sit in the vacant chair adjacent Connie.

"I'll help you with the drinks," Anita's mother offers while she gestures for Javier to sit in her seat. "Do you want anything stronger than beer, you two?" she asks of him and Steve.

"I'm fine with a beer, thank you," Steve assures, and Javi seconds with a nod before reclaiming his own and drinking from it.

"Ellis, I'll grab the hot dogs from the fridge. You watch the grill," Anita's father remarks as he follows them into the house.

While Olivia enjoys the little cheese and crackers from the snack dish, the adults around her chatter conversationally.

As everyone talks about local events, Javi watches you from across the table while you listen and simultaneously feed Delilah her bottle.

Seeing you hold such a small baby, glancing down at her every so, and smiling? It makes something primal and nurturing bloom in his chest. The back of his neck gets hot when he glances over and realizes Steve's caught him staring at you, so he sits up straighter and drinks a long pull from his beer.

By the time the hot dogs are on the grill and the tray of frozen drinks has come out to the table, you're already burping the baby, gently patting her back while cradling her to your shoulder.

"Oop, 'scuse you," you mumble sweetly to the baby when she lets out a hiccup of a burp and yawns against your shoulder. When Anita sits next to you and slides over the frozen cocktail to you, you reluctantly hand Delilah back. "Dito, she's already sleepy."

"Yeah, but trust me – it won't last for long," Anita sighs as she rocks the baby in her arms. "I made you a daiquiri, but let me know if you'd prefer a margarita—"

"Ah, no way! No tequila drinks for me," you exclaim and shake your head before sipping from the fruity daiquiri.

"Are you allergic to tequila?" Connie asks before thanking Ellis for the plate of hotdogs she begins to dutifully cut into smaller morsels for Olivia.

"No, I don't think so, but the last time I had it, I got so sick, I couldn't get out of bed for almost two days," you explain, grimacing at the mere recall. "I swore to never have tequila again after that."

Cataloguing that in his personal record of knowledge about your likes and dislikes, Javier remarks coolly to the group, "She's a Cuba Libre gal, anyway."

"Hah, remember when the fellas at Mil Group used to call you Miss Cuba Libre?" Ellis chuckles as he rotates some of the drumsticks.

"Actually, that was you and Samson who came up with that," you counter aloofly before realizing you've mentioned the former field operations analyst in Javier's presence.

"What's a Cuba Libre?" Olivia pipes up before eating a piece of hotdog she's just dipped in ketchup.

"It's a tropical drink only for grown-ups," Javier answers as he steals a piece of hotdog from her plate, popping it in his mouth and chewing with gusto while he squints goofily at her.

You internally breathe a sigh of relief at Javi's unruffled demeanor.

Since there aren't enough seats around the patio table, you get up and offer yours to Ellis once the ribs are ready and he's serving them.

"I'm going to pace myself for the barbecue chicken," you tell him as you go sit on the swing.

Javier gets up from his seat, remarking, "And I'm leaving room for the steak," as he goes over to sit on the swing next to you, eyeing you charmingly as he croons, "Still up for pushing me?"

Snickering, you go to stand behind him, and with all your might, you push him by the center of his back to get the momentum forward to swing.

The swing set protests with squeaks the more Javi gains speed, and you can't help deride, "Uh oh, I think you exceed the size limit for this, chulito."

As he swings backwards, he deliberately leans back so he can taunt in a gravelly pitch, "Wouldn't be the first time, preciosa."

You laugh in that scandalized, yet tickled way he loves before swatting his shoulder and hissing conspiratorially, "No seas fresco."

Digging his boot heels into the soft grass, he stops swinging and sits on the seat before guiding you to move around in order to swoop you into sitting across his lap.

Holding you to him, he kisses your cheek, and whispers in your ear, "I'm already doing a lot to control myself, guapita. But you're making it very hard."

The apples of your cheeks heat up at the double entendre, especially when all your friends are not even ten feet away.

You turn your head and angelically smile before pecking him chastely on the lips. "Behave, or else you're getting punished when we get home," is your murmured whisper, seductive tone not matching your serene smile.

You stand and strut back to the table, leaving Javier to pine for you before going to join Ellis and Steve by the beer cooler.

Once the rib appetizer has been partaken in, Ellis gets back to the grill to work on the next round of meat while you go with Connie inside to help retrieve all the side dishes.

Taking the baby so Anita can help hand out plates and cutlery, Ellis holds her in the crook of his arm while Steve and Javi go to the cooler and crack open another round of beers for the men.

The breeze in the shady backyard has dissipated by the time Ellis is planning on throwing on the seasoned cuts of steak to the grill, and just as he's about to ask Anita to take the baby, she's come out with them on a glass bake dish and sets it on the grill's side table.

"Ugh, the bugs are coming out now. Come, let's eat at the table inside," Anita directs, so you all collect the plates and platters to do just that.

"Ah, crap. I forgot to bring back out the barbecue and steak sauce," Ellis grumbles, quickly turning to see everyone but he and Javier have moseyed into the house already. So, without batting an eye, he pivots towards the other man and practically bestows the docile baby at a surprised Javier, who clumsily takes her in a broad-armed cradle as Ellis rushes out, "Here, hold her for a sec while I run in and whip the sauce up for the drumsticks. I'll be right back!"

At being in an unfamiliar hold, Delilah squirms and looks up at Javier, almost questioningly.

"It's ok. I got you," he tells her in a soft, cooing tone to quiet her fussing while he carefully rocks her.

Inside the house, you're just finishing pointing out to everyone which of the casserole dishes is the potato salad with mayonnaise when you hear Steve chuckle as he steps back out through the sliding door, and jokes, "She's looking grumpy there, Jav. Maybe don't hold her like a bomb that's about to go off."

You look in direction of the patio and see Javier holding Delilah while shooting a laconic look at Steve before he adjusts the way his arms are cradled to better hold the baby, nestling her close to his chest.

The sight of him standing broad-shouldered and tall, with the gentle smile on his face as he looks down at the baby when she grabs a little fistful of his yellow shirt? Watching as the nervous tension melts from his posture as he rocks the baby and chats with Steve? It makes a fluttering ache fizzle up in your core before your heart winces at the thought you've tried to bury deep.

He'd make a wonderful father. But you won't be able to do that for him.

The sting of tears threatens to crest up in you, but you take a cleansing breath and distract yourself with cleaning up the kitchen counter while everyone else is busy serving food and settling to sit at the table, chatting away.

Meanwhile, Javier is keeping his attention on the little baby while Steve peppers him with questions.

"—So you're definitely going to that gala together?"

"That's the plan."

"But you haven't disclosed it to Mercer yet."

"Nope."

"Do you plan on doing that before the party?"

"I was planning to the next time it's my turn to be at the building."

"Hm. You ever gonna get around to putting a ring on her finger?"

"…You're lucky I'm holding this baby, and can't swear at you right now."

"I know. That's why I brought it up."

Sighing, Javi glances at his buddy. "I've been thinking about it. But I told you – I've got no clue what to get her. And I feel like I gotta do a few things first before I can make the move," is his honest retort.

"Like what?" Steve asks before drinking his beer.

"Get things on solid ground between us. There's still a lot of making up I gotta do after Colombia…" is his musing, pausing before adding, "I also want to ask permission."

"…From who?" Steve grunts before asking, "Her dad?"

"Yeah. Before, when they weren't on speaking terms still, I had wanted to ask her grandmother for her blessing…but I didn't get a chance to. Now, that they've mended their relationship, I feel like I should go to him and ask," he explains, and at Steve's quirked brows, he grumbles, "It sounded like it was important, within the family. I don't want to cause friction between them, and my track record isn't great—"

"Getting the presumptive father-in-law to like you, you mean?" Steve rasps in a knowing drawl, hand shoved into his pocked while he swigs his beer with the other one.

Delilah yawns and wriggles in his arms, so Javi quips, "Even she's bored of you, Captain Obvious."

Ellis returns with his secret barbecue sauce then, so they drop the topic and strike up convo with the man as he works on the grill.

When the boys come back into the house with the tray piled high with meat a little while later, they find everyone merrily chatting while Isabel sleeps in her carrier and Olivia is wrapped in her coloring book, sat on the stool at the counter.

Anita takes Delilah from Javier and goes to check her diaper before putting her down for a nap while the buffet-style dinner commences. By the time she comes back, she sets the baby monitor on the kitchen counter and joins everyone in food and banter.

Eventually, with the kids preoccupied, the adults talk about current world events, and during coffee and dessert, the conversation turns to 'the trial of the century,' of which you hadn't been paying much attention to.

"—Whole new meaning to 'the Juice is loose,' I say. The guy is totally guilty," Ellis is wisecracking, to Anita's wry chagrin.

"Ay, you and that trial," is her chastising huff before she takes a bite of the delicious cake you brought over. "You all haven't been watching it, right?"

"Only the nightly news recaps, after we put the kids to bed," Connie replies as she sips her coffee.

"It seems like a pretty open and shut case," Steve remarks conversationally as he contemplates having another slice of the scrumptious cake.

"Do you think so?" Anita's father asks Javi, glancing at you too as he remarks, "We've heard a lot of people believe otherwise."

"Honestly, I don't know enough about it. When we get home, we're usually so preoccupied with other things that we usually only have enough energy left to watch local news together," is Javi's loaded, smug comment, to which you scoff and swat his thigh haughtily while he cockily stays reclined in his seat, with his arm along the back of your chair.

Everyone exchanges chuckles before changing the conversation to other topics.

By the end of the early evening, you're all packing up leftovers to take home before exchanging praise over the food shared, and thanking the Roses for hosting the barbecue.

"—Wanna go shopping this week? I don't have a dress I can fit in for the gala," Anita asks you and Connie as the men stow things in the cars.

"Sure. I have a dress in mind for it already, but I was thinking of getting a different pair of shoes for it," you tell them, and after some more chit chat on the way to the front yard, you all make shopping plans for after work later in the week.

Saying goodbye to everyone, you and Javier drive home to your place, warmly chatting about how nice the gathering was, and how you should all make future plans to hang out like that again.

By the time you get to your condo, you and Javi are getting a second wind, so when you walk in, you're tossing your purse on the counter and kicking your strappy leather sandals off, padding barefoot to the sideboard as you chime, "—Ah, it's still early. Want to have drinks on the balcony? It's so nice out."

"Sure," he retorts as he locks the door and slides the keys onto the bartop counter while going to store the leftovers into the fridge. As he does so, he watches you retrieve a bottle of his favorite whiskey and your preferred rum, placing them on the glass table so you can push the vertical blinds aside to open the sliding balcony door and let the cool evening breeze in. With a wry smirk, he irreverently asks, "Want me to make yours, Miss Cuba Libre?"

Biting your bottom lip and coquettishly looking back at him, you drawl coyly, "I was worried that might've annoyed you. I didn't mean to—"

Frowning, Javier walks over and cups his hands at your hips. "Hey, it didn't bother me. I was only teasing, querida," is his earnest insistence. The genuine concern in his eyes makes you pout, so he kisses your lips before taunting, "And I remember a time you swore you didn't like apodos."

Scoffing girlishly, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and kiss him back before grousing, "Yeah, well, you had your own nickname, Mister Guapo Descarado."

Chuckling ruggedly, he squeezes you affectionately before grabbing the bottles of liquor to go make your drinks in the kitchen. As he grabs two glasses from the cupboard, he glances over at you while asking unabashedly, "Who came up with that one?"

Smiling, you slide the screen door open and lean against the frame as you answer, "That was what Marisol and the girls called you. And based on all the gossip I'd heard? It seemed quite fitting."

"Great," he laconically drawls as he walks over with your drinks. "I swear. Half of the rumors were bullshit," is his glib aside, handing you the glass and fighting to keep a straight face, especially when you give him that discerning stare. "They were!"

"Ah-hah," you deadpan waggishly before sipping your drink and taking his hand to lead him out to the balcony so you can both enjoy the breeze and the tropical twilight sky over the bright Condado skyline across the laguna.

It felt nice, looking out at the view, with the whiskey warming his bloodstream, and you lovingly embraced against his side. So much so, that when the intrusive thoughts from earlier stumble up into the forefront of his mind – Shit, she wouldn't have a drink if she knew she was pregnant! – Javier almost vehemently dismisses them.

But then, the vision of you, holding the baby – of how sweet and doting you were with her nestled in your arms – digs loose that anxious pang from earlier.

"Celina…" he begins, and when you turn to stare with open attention up at him, he wavers. "I—I uh…"

Blinking curiously, you set your drink aside on the small, circular, mosaic-tiled patio table tucked in the corner of the balcony where you're standing so you can place your hands reassuringly at his chest as you ask, "What? What's the matter?"

Fuck. Real smooth. Javi grouses at himself before exhaling noisily. Deciding he has to just come out with it, he downs his glass of whiskey before setting aside on the table. Steeling himself, he breathes out through his nose before resting his hands at your waist in order to ground himself.

"Earlier today, while I was putting my stuff away, I went to put something in your vanity drawer," he tells you, and at your expression shuttering in from the mention of the drawer, he continues, "I saw the birth control case. And I looked inside…"

Your heart drops.

Instantly, your eyes begin to well with tears, and Javi is startled by your reaction, so he quickly comforts, "Mi amor, don't get upset. I didn't mean to snoop, but I couldn't help looking. It's alright. We've talked about it, remember? We'll figure it out together—"

Realizing what he's saying – that he thinks the pills were discarded in the drawer because you're secretly pregnant? It hits you hard.

You bite your lip to stop it from quivering before forcing the tears back down and out from the knot in your throat.

"Javier…it's not like that. I—I have been having problems. Since before we got back together. I…I haven't been menstruating, and for the last few months, I've been doing blood work and check-ups. The doctor told me to get off the pill, to see if that was the cause—if being on it had just prolonged a hormonal imbalance or something, but…I haven't been ovulating. It's still too early… it could be a lingering case of amenorrhea, b-but, there's a possibility that I could be…that I could be infertile."

You brace for his reaction, terrified and ashamed. So much so, you can't even hold his gaze when you say the last part.

But then, Javi cups your cheek and tips your face back up to him.

His dark brown eyes are resolute and filled with composure, and his expression chisels into that semblance that so rarely comes over his countenance, save when you're both in bed, in post-coital repose.

"Querida, I'm so sorry you've been dealing with this alone. Why didn't you tell me sooner?" When you hesitate, and your eyes fill up with tears again, he realizes why. "You thought it would change how I feel?"

The tears overflow past your lashes, unbidden, and you nod before stifling a sob into the back of your hand.

"Celina," he husks and hugs you, overcome by your reaction, and holds you tight, nuzzling the top of your hair and trying to regain his composure. As soon as he does, he finds the steady voice he needs to declare, "Nothing will ever make me change the way I feel about you. I love you. I just want us to be together, whatever way possible. Being with you, and making you happy is everything I care about. All we need is each other. To love each other, nothing else."

You sob and melt into his embrace at his words, feeling like you've been delivered by his unwavering love and grace.

"I love you with all my heart, Javi. I j-just want to m-make you happy—to make a life with you. To g-give you love and a life you want, and t-that matters—" you stammer through tears, and Javi derails your cracking admittance by tipping your face up to him.

"I have it. Right here and now. Whatever happens, we have each other. All that matters to me, is what we have," he passionately conveys, voice going hoarse as he proclaims, "I love you. Solo te quiero a ti por toda mi vida. And all I want is to be with you."

He wipes the tears away from your cheeks, his expression open and genuine as you breathlessly smile before hugging him with palpable yearning.

Feeling you tremble, Javi effortlessly picks you up and carries you into the apartment and down the hall to your bedroom.

Wanting to comfort you, he intended to just lay you down and cuddle close, but you're raw with emotion, and longingly kiss him, mewling softly into his mouth. When he claims yours rapaciously while stripping your clothes off, piece by piece, your hands hurriedly unbutton his shirt, tug at his belt buckle, and unfasten his jeans while he kicks his boots off and clambers with you onto the bed.

His warm skin and spicy scent have your senses buzzing, making you needy and wet before he's even bared you completely and settled between your welcoming thighs.

Javier shudders as your hands cling to his back while your teeth graze down his shoulder, making lust and savage desire burn through him and throb beseechingly to be inside you.

With how emotionally raw and hyper-aroused you are, the feeling of his cock notching at your dimpled entrance makes you quiver and whimper, nipples taut and tingling as he suckles hard on one and then the other. His mouth is hot and possessive as he rakes it up to trail dizzying desire through you as it charts possessively up your neck while his cock punches a deep thrust into your molten sheath before stroking all the way out and slamming back in to the hilt.

Your cry of pleasure is devoured by his mouth claiming yours, and the more he fucks into you, the more ravenous and besotted his pace becomes, until it steals his breath and he has to growl your name against your neck.

"Celina—!"

Spun up by the onslaught of sensations and feelings, you cling to him and beg, "Please, Javi. P-Please!"

The tears in your wavering whimper snap him back into control, and he slows his rapaciousness, focusing on taking you apart with the fill of his cock in your fluttering cunt while caressing your flushed features and kissing the tears away.

Voice hoarse with emotion, Javi croons softly, "I got you. Just you and me. Let go, cariño. You don't have to hold onto it. Let me have it. Nothing else matters. It's just you and me. I love you—"

That's when you do, letting go of all the angst, fear, shame, and heartache of possibly losing him. Of losing a life you didn't know you wanted for him – that you were not be able to give to him. To mourn the possibility of a life you'd never known you wanted for yourself.

When you have no more tears, he rests his forehead to yours and lets you get your bearings, focusing on your calming breath and easing trembling.

"Javi."

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

He opens his eyes and stares deeply into your glossy ones, and sees the palpable feeling you just professed shining in them.

You make love to each other, carnally honed into everything you can only say to each other physically.

The throes of pleasure speak volumes for how you feel, and when you both reach bliss together, you're unable to do anything else but curl into each other and kiss before Javi protectively wraps you up in his arms.

His heart beats strong with yours, and everything in him is at peace, knowing there's nothing else that can hurt you. That you love him enough to want to protect him from even the perceived thought that you couldn't give him a life that neither of you even knew you'd wanted until the prospect showed itself looking up at you both, with sweet innocence, earlier that day.

Knowing that you're enough – that Javi wants a life with you, regardless of any obstacles, was a salve to your raw psyche after harboring the fear for so long.

It's just us. Our love is all that matters.

As you both drift to sleep, only serenity and love fill the atmosphere for you, and the tethering feeling that settles between you helps keep hope grounded in your hearts for all that there is still to come.

The turmoil that awaits you both is nothing either of you see coming, however.

  ________________

Spanish-English Glossary:

Colmadito = Grocery shop; similar to a bodega; community foodstuff store

Coquí = Puerto Rican tree frogs; they croak 'coquí', hence their name

Urbanizacíon = Urbanization; housing development

Mi cariñito = My sweet little darling

Preciosa = Gorgeous; precious

No te he dado de alta = I haven't discharged you

Chavón = A man that's pestering you

Mi amor = My love

Mandona = Bossy lady

Beyako = Puerto Rican slang for horny/naughty guy; akin to "horn dog"

Querida/querido = Affectionate term, akin to expressing one's want and desire

Guapita = Sassy/foxy/daring/testy lady

Corazón = Heart; pet name to signify how deeply you love someone

Galán = Handsome gent

Malcriada/malcriado = Brat/spoiled

Marquesina = Open air garage or carport

Autopista = Freeway; highway

Pendejo = Dumbass/Jackass

Siempre a la órden = Always at your service

Puto = Fucking; male whore; slut

Congrí = Cuban dish made of black beans and rice with bacon and fragrant spices

Guapetón = Super handsome, good-looking guy

Buen provecho = Bon apetit

Arroz con pollo = Rice with chicken

Carne con papas = Meat with potatoes

Pernil = Roast pork shoulder

Pinche asesinos = Fucking murderers/killers

Cariño = Darling/sweetheart

Come, gatito = Eat, kitty

Flan de queso = Cheese flan; Latin American dessert

Perreo = Dance style associated with reggaetón; doggystyle, twerking dance

Fresco = a guy who's being 'fresh', or naughty/pervy

Chulo/Chulito = Cute guy; little cutie

Hermosa/hermoso = beautiful (female); beautiful (male)

Bebito = Little baby (male)

Te quiero, mi amor = I love you, my love

Te amo con todo mi corazón = I love you with all my heart

Bravita= Tough girl; feisty girl

Frituras = Fritters; tropical turnovers

Playas = Beaches

Suavón = Smooth talker; Smooth guy

Medalla = Popular beer found in Puerto Rico

Canela = Cinnamon

Dámelo, mi amor = Give it to me, my love

Pórtate bien = Behave

Patrona = Madam; boss lady; mistress

El campo = The countryside

Chinchorrear = Slang for going bar-hopping; a chinchorro is a kiosk or dive bar you go to have a few drinks before moving on to the next establishment

Gruñón = Grumpy man

Nena = Girl

Llámame = Call me

Tarta de frutas = A vanilla cheesecake-like cake covered in tropical fruit slices

Más suave = Gentler; Softer

Que malo eres = You're so bad; You're so mean

Javi es malo = Javi is bad

No soy malo de verdad = I'm not bad for real

Amá = Medellín way of referring to 'Ma' or 'Mamá'

Madrina = Godmother

Dito = Short for 'bendito', which is a phrase conveying hopeful lamentation

No seas fresco = Don't be fresh

Apodos = Nicknames

Guapo Descarado = Handsome Cad

Laguna = Lagoon

Solo te quiero a ti por toda mi vida = I only want you for the rest of my life

Thanks for reading! Please consider leaving a comment and sharing your feedback. I would be eternally grateful. 

#Heat - Narcos fanfic #Javi x Querida #Javier Peña #Javi Peña #Javi Peña fan fiction #Javi Peña fanfiction #Pedro Pascal characters #Narcos #Narcos fan fiction #Javi Peña x Latina OFC #Latina OFC

[wannab-urs]

Title: Crawling Back to You

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: After some particularly awful shit goes down, Javi distances himself from you. But he always comes crawling back. 

Tags: Angst, smut, more angst, reference to s2e3 events w Carillo, Javi sleeps with Gabriela (that’s the one from S2E3 y’all), sad!Javi, self hating!Javi, references to blood, wounds, rot, etc, all metaphorical, drinking/alcohol, as always: excessive cursing, me trying to speak spanish (translations provided), arguing, manhandling, dry humping, fingering, oral f receiving, face riding but while lying down, hair pulling, actual riding, Javi very briefly picks you up, that one position from s1e2, unprotected PiV, creampie, Javi crying, Javi yelling, reader yelling, did I mention angst? WC: 2130

A/N: I'm sorry? And thanks to the HBH for beta reading &lt;3

Series Masterlist | Javier Peña Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

Crawling back to you Ever thought of calling when you've had a few? 'Cause I always do

Javi has avoided you for two weeks now. He got himself involved in some truly fucked up shit with Carillo and couldn’t bear to face you after that. He couldn’t let you see him like that – completely ashamed of himself, broken. He went to Gabriela instead. He knew she wouldn’t ask too many questions, that she would let him take out his anger and helplessness and shame on her. 

When he got home that night he still almost called you, just to hear your voice. You calm something inside him, something dark and violent. But it feels like a sin to expose you to it in the first place. He’s terrified of letting you in. Sure, he’s afraid of getting hurt. Afraid of giving his heart to you and possibly watching you crush it in your hands. But what he’s really scared of is letting you get close enough to see the blood in his teeth, to smell the rot in his chest. Afraid his darkness will infect you, ruin the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on. He is a bad man and you are so so good. You deserve better than him.

And yet he can’t truly let you go. Just another reason he doesn’t deserve you. He’s selfish enough to keep going back to you, to keep knocking on your apartment door and burying his pain in your body, only to tuck tail and run the second you push him for more. Most selfish of all is how much he wants more with you. Wants to come home to you every day. To cook dinner with you, to share a bed with you, to share his life with you. He wants everything you want and more and he’s terrified and horrified at the prospect. 

You haven’t called him. Maybe you finally listened to him. Finally accepted he’s not what you want or need. Do you think about calling him? Maybe after a bottle of wine, listening to your maudlin records and relaxing on your couch. Do you drink yourself into a stupor before you can make that mistake like he does? 

He dreams about you, about your body wrapped tightly around his, your nails dragging down his back so sharply it snaps him awake. He finds his whiskey glass turned over and spilled on his couch. His back aches from falling asleep sitting up. He eyes the phone. 

Fuck calling. 

Javi stares at the brass numbers on your apartment door. What the fuck is he doing here? He just can’t leave well enough alone. He pounds on the door until you answer. 

“No.” You slam the door closed. 

He bangs on the door again, fist pausing mid-air as the door swings open. 

“You can’t just come crawling back to me when you get tired of your whores, Javi.” You look beautiful. Standing in your doorway in one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties. Righteous anger puts a fire in your eyes, gives a hard set to your jaw.  

“No es así y tú lo sabes.” (It’s not like that and you know it).” Javi steps closer to you, you don’t step back. “Me haces falta. (I miss you). Let me in.” 

“Oh you fucking miss me? It’s been two weeks. Y no llamaste. (and you didn’t call).” You didn’t call him either, but that’s not the point. You didn’t show up at his apartment.

“Sé, lo siento. (I know, I’m sorry).”

“No. No lo eres. Déjame en paz.” (No. You’re not. Leave me alone.).  

“No puedo. You know I can’t.” Javi looks defeated, run down. You know he needs you. Despite the advice of everyone you know and your own better judgment, you step aside and let him in. “Gracias, cariño.” And he sounds so relieved, you almost feel bad for keeping him out, for not calling him. Almost. 

He closes the door behind him and you stalk off to the kitchen, still not quite ready to face him. You pour yourself a glass of whiskey and shoot it, wincing a little at the burn, before grabbing another glass and pouring one for each of you. You set both on the coffee table and sit on the couch, folding your legs beneath you. 

“Why are you here, Javi?” He’d asked himself as much.

He picks his glass up off the table and sits on the couch next to you. You watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallows. “I need you. I don’t know what else you want me to say.” 

“Start with why you disappeared.”

“Classified.”

“Bullshit.”

Javi sets his glass down and manhandles you into his lap. He crashes his mouth into yours and at first you don’t even respond to his touch, but it doesn’t take long to fall into him. You can’t deny that you’ve been miserable without him. Craving his touch, missing him so much it hurts. He’s like an itch you can never scratch enough to satisfy. A festering wound that won’t ever heal. So you may as well pick at the scab. 

Javi pulls your crotch flush with his. He’s already hard against you. You bury your hands in his too-long hair where it curls at the nape and lose yourself in him. You grind down on him and he thrusts up against you, the denim of his jeans and hard line of his cock creating delicious friction even through your panties. 

He breaks the kiss, dragging his lips up your jaw, and whispers in your ear, “Can you come for me like this?” You don’t answer him, simply grind down on him harder, faster, nearly rubbing your thighs raw on his jeans. He peels his t-shirt off your body, throws it behind the couch, and immediately sucks a nipple between his plush lips. He bites down and it sends a jolt straight through your core. 

“Fuck, Javi. More, baby. More,” you whine. He grabs your hips and drags you along his clothed length hard and fast. You feel your core tighten around nothing, and a keening moan falls from your lips as you come. 

You don’t even have time to catch your breath before he’s thrown you onto the couch. He drags your ruined underwear down your legs, tossing them over his shoulder, and buries his face between your thighs. He sucks your clit into his mouth and pushes two fingers inside you, pumping slowly and rolling your clit gently between his teeth. 

You arch up into him, and instead of pinning you down like he often does, he lets you grind your pussy on his face. The hard ridge of his nose, the rough drag of his mustache, the plush softness of his lips, so many different sensations hitting you as his fingers plunge into your cunt, curling into your g-spot over and over. It’s completely and utterly overwhelming. You fist his hair and hold him tight to you as you ride his face, and he moans into your cunt. He fucking loves it when you let go like this, unabashed moans filling the room, probably filling the whole apartment complex. 

You fall apart again, like this, hips stuttering to a stop as you squeeze his fingers so hard it almost hurts. Javi peers up at your blissed out face, the rapid rise and fall of your chest, takes in just how beautiful you are. He drags his tongue through your slick one more time before hovering over you and licking into your mouth. 

You suck your own slick off his tongue, licking into his mouth as you feel him shove his jeans down enough to free his cock. He pulls back, sits on the couch and drags you into his lap. You straddle him and he helps you line up before grabbing your hips and pulling you down on him. 

You collapse forward, the feeling of him inside you is like being split apart and it would probably hurt if you weren’t so wet. He grabs your hair and pulls backward until your back is arched. “Montarme, cariño.” (Ride me, baby). You start moving your hips, slowly picking up in speed until you’re bouncing on his cock so hard and fast you can barely catch your breath.

He hitches your thighs around his waist and wraps his arm around your back, dropping you on the couch. He shoves his jeans down, stepping out of them, and drops one knee to the couch. He pulls you into his lap, wrapping your legs around his hips. You cling to his shoulders with your left arm and drop your other one behind you for leverage, rolling your hips into his. He meets you with his own thrusts, holding your body to his and burying his face in the crook of your neck. 

He’s so close, you’re so tangled up in each other, he’s so fucking deep inside you, barely even pulling out before rolling back up into you. You fall back onto the couch and he follows, still holding you in his arms as he fucks you. Your orgasm hits you like a wave, rolling over your body and giving you chills as your cunt flutters around his cock. 

He comes with you, fully collapsing down onto you. You should feel crushed under his weight, but it’s comforting. He holds you so tightly it’s like he’s afraid to let go of you. Afraid that when this moment is over you’ll kick him out and he’ll be alone again. Afraid this is the last time he’ll ever get to touch you. 

You pet his hair gently, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. It’s late. You’re so fucked out you feel high and maybe the whiskey is loosening your tongue a little.  

“I don’t understand, Javi. If it feels like this, why won’t you love me? What more could you want from me? What am I missing that you need?” This is going to ruin everything.

Javi pushes up on his elbows to look you in the eye. “Cariño. It’s not you–” 

“I swear to God, Javi, if you use that line on me I will burn your apartment down with you in it.” 

“You don’t understand. You won’t understand. I’m not good. I’m only going to get you hurt or killed.” 

“You already are hurting me, Javi,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him back down to you. 

He’s silent for a long time before he half whispers into your shoulder, “I’m just so afraid.” His voice breaks and you feel a tear land on your skin. You stroke his hair, drag your fingers along his heated skin. 

“I know you, Javi. I know who you are and I don’t care. I think about you all the time. All the fucking time. I can’t stop thinking about you no matter how hard I fucking try. It’s torture.” 

Javi shoves himself away from you, standing and grabbing his jeans off the floor.“That’s my fucking point!” You flinch at his volume. He pulls his jeans on, grabs his boots and crams his feet into them, already heading to the door. He turns around. “I am only ever going to hurt you. I am a bad fucking person. I hurt people on purpose and you are not immune from that just because I care about you or because I love you.”  

You stand and try to take his face in your hands but he grabs your arms and holds you away from him. “I’d let you crack open my chest, rib by rib, while I watched if it meant I could have you. If it meant you’d be mine. Stop running away from me! I’m begging you!” You’re sobbing, yelling, pleading with him to just listen. 

Javi looks at you, brow furrowed, big brown eyes shiny and bloodshot with tears. He lets go of you and steps away slowly, putting distance between the two of you. His mouth opens as if he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t. He drops his head and closes his eyes, takes a shaky breath, and walks out the door.

He knows he will come crawling back to you, tomorrow or a week from now, he can’t ever stay away. But maybe this time the wound will be too raw. He will have hurt you too much, and you will shut him out. He fucking hates it, hates the thought of being without you, hates the way it feels like he’s clawing out his own organs hurting you like this. But this hurt is so much less than what he would do to you given enough time. This wound will scab over, form an angry scar, he will have left his mark on you. But you will heal. 

dividers by @saradika

#Javier Peña #Javier Peña fics #Javier Peña fanfiction #Javier Peña x reader #Javier Peña x you #Javi Peña #Javi Peña fics #Javi Peña fanfiction #Javi Peña x reader #Javi Peña x you #Javi P #Javi P fics #Javi P fanfiction #Javi P x reader #Javi P x you #Narcos #Narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedrostories

[tightjeansjavi]

Cigarettes & Feelings | Part 3 | Javi Pena x f! Reader

“you got me stumbling; you never give me a break”

A/N: I am so pleased with how this chapter turned out. I sat on it for awhile and didn’t want to force myself to write when I wasn’t feeling the motivation. I appreciate your patience ♡

~word count: 4.2k~

Summary: Javi shows you that beneath his playboy exterior, he’s just a man that left everything he knew behind to pursue a new life.

Warnings: some angst from both Javi and the reader, flirting, banter, a truce is made, Javi and the reader actually connect, mentions of alcohol and smoking cigarettes, late night talking, Javi opens up about his past, the reader sees him in a new light, some sexual tension/pining in the beginning, Javi acts as true gentleman, light fluff, no age gap, reader has no physical descriptions but is from the states, pet names used: cariño and hermosa +18 minors dni!

Bogotá, Colombia 1988

You felt flustered under the DEA agent's gaze. The night air was balmy, and his distinct fragrant cologne was wrapped around your senses like a snake. Twisting, squeezing, spinning your brain like a brightly lit merry-go-round.

Javier smelled like sex. Not the grimy kind. He smelled of leather, cigarette smoke, and faintly of women’s perfume. A combination that you should be turning your nose up at, yet here you were feeling your resolve slowly begin to crumble.

“Are you trying to flirt with me, Javier?” You boldly asked.

Javi raised a brow in your direction, lips curving up into a small smirk. One that sent your stomach into a fury of butterflies. There was something so slick about the way he smirked. Something underlying with brandished provactism. Javier was expertly practiced in the art of flirting. He was a man nonetheless, and your boldness caught him off guard.

“Is a man not allowed to tell a woman that he thinks she’s beautiful without there being an underlying reason behind it?” His tone was casual, even keeled as he hid the twinge of trepidation building in the pit of his stomach. “I think you’re beautiful, and it would almost be cruel for me to not be honest with you, querida.”

Your mouth fell open as you processed his words and the sincerity behind them. On the surface level you felt like a cornered mouse about to become the street cats next lunch. On the inside? You were struggling to keep the heat pooling in your tummy at bay. You didn’t want to boost the agent’s ego by confessing that you think he’s attractive as well. No, you were going to hold up your defenses for as long as you could muster it.

“Well, thank you Javi. I’m simply gushing that you think I’m beautiful.” You teased.

Well, there goes that plan of not boosting his ego..whoops. Better luck next time!

Javi cocked his head to the side as he tried to decipher if you were just messing with him or if his words truly did have that effect on you. You were frustrating to read, and even more-so now than ever. “Shall we..head out?” He gestured to his car in the awaiting parking lot below. I need a fucking drink. He silently thought to himself.

The next thing you did was surely going to melt and rot away the DEA agent’s already fragile state of mind. You had ever-so innocently plucked the burning cigarette from between his lips and placed the unlit end between your own. You took a long drag, blowing the smoke off to the side as his jaw went slack at your actions. “I never took you for the smoking type. I would have offered you one earlier if that was the case.” He casually stated as he watched the way your lips effortlessly wrapped around the tip of the cigarette. He found himself transfixed by the way the smoke billowed around your head like a misty halo. Your lips were lightly stained with lipgloss, and he found himself pondering if the flavor would taste like cherry, strawberry, or perhaps some other fruit. They were glistening under the street lights, like glazed sugary sweets. Delectable and melting on one’s taste buds.

“I only smoke on rare occasions or in a social setting. There’s a lot of things you would never take me for, Javier.” You took one more drag before placing the cigarette back between his lips. Cherry. That’s what your lipgloss consisted of. He found himself already pining for a proper taste.

Javi knew right then and there that he had to play his cards right. He didn’t want to jump the gun and assume that you were flirting with him, but at the same time he was absolutely hoping that you were. “So, what kind of cigarettes does a woman of your stature prefer to smoke?” He asked casually.

“A woman of my stature? That’s an interesting way of phrasing it Peña. If you must know..I quite enjoy the flavor of Marlboro Reds.”

Javi brushed the tip of his thumb across the bridge of his nose. A habit he would display when he was feeling particularly flustered in a situation. Although he wouldn’t admit it, your quick snap backs and confidence had his brain reeling. He cleared his throat as he gestured to the staircase leading down to the parking lot. “Shall we?”

You stared back at the DEA agent with your brow quirked suggestively. What happened to suave Javier Peña? Perhaps you had pacified that part of himself momentarily. Javier stared right back at you, almost in a challenging stance. Neither of you blinked as the tension seemingly simmered hotly through the close proximity you shared.

“Lead the way, Peña.” You said amusedly.

Javi finished off what was left of his cigarette as he flicked the end over the railing. You were graced with another whiff of his cologne as he breezed past you, footsteps heavy along the metal railing. He was already at his car by the time you finished locking your front door and meeting him in the parking lot.

Stolen glances were shared when he held open the passenger door for you like a true gentleman. Small talk was exchanged on the short drive to the local bar. Javi couldn’t help but wonder if tonight would finally be the night that he would break through your hard exterior shell.

His hand was gingerly resting along the small of your back as he walked alongside you. This was a safer part of town, but he always erred on the side of caution. He felt the goose flesh raise along your exposed skin where his warm palm was placed. His fingertips were just light toying with one of the straps on your dress. He half expected you to swat his hand away and scold him. However, he was pleasantly surprised that you did quite the opposite. You neither leaned into his touch or shied away.

To say that Steve was surprised to see you and Peña walking into the bar together was an understatement. His jaw literally dropped to the goddamn floor and Connie had to pick it up for him. Javi was already giving him the “don’t say anything please” look with just his eyes alone.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.” Steve raised his bottle of beer in yours and Javi’s direction. “We were beginning to think that you were going to be a no show, Jav.” He grinned at him over the rim of his beer.

Javier offered to let you slide into the booth first, following you shortly after as he shrugged his signature leather jacket off, revealing another one of his many too tight to breathe shirts. This one was purple, and he looked goddamn handsome in it. “Sorry, got caught up doing some paperwork back at the office, and wanted to invite the newbie out for some drinks.” He shot you a subtle wink.

“Oh? So that’s what I am? The newbie?” You fought the urge to roll your eyes when he had winked at you. “I’ve been here for well over a month now, Javi.” You let out a faux sigh of disappointment and usually Javier would have a quick comeback, but he was determined to be in your good graces.

“Cariño, c’mon. You know I’m just kidding, right? Besides, I meant it more as a term of endearment? Yeah..that’s how I meant for it to come across.”

You gave the DEA agent a playful shove to the shoulder, your eyes light and teasing. “Oh, I know that’s how you meant it. I was just looking for an excuse to give you shit.”

“Ohh ha ha ha. Very funny, you really got me there missy.” He softly chuckled.

“I’m just shocked to see you both here in one piece. How the hell did you not end up ripping his head off?” Steve asked with a raise of his brow.

“Javier actually isn’t terrible company, when he’s not putting all his energy into flirting with me. I actually was pretty surprised when he asked me out for drinks without any ulterior motives.”

“I told you I really am not all that terrible of a guy, once you give me a chance. I’ll take this as a truce?” Javier outstretched his hand towards you with a gentle smile.

You eyed his gesture suspiciously before ultimately offering him your hand. Much to Steve’s disbelief, you and Javi firmly shook hands.

“It’s a truce, Peña.”

You and Javi had hardly touched your beers that stood next to one another on the table. The bottles had been sitting there long enough that condensation began to form along outside. It wasn’t that either of you weren’t in a mood for drinking, it was just that you and Javi were fully immersed in a conversation. He was sitting close enough to you in the booth that his knee was lightly brushing yours, and his arm was outstretched along the backside of the worn leather. His fingers were close enough that they could have easily brushed against the exposed skin of your shoulder, but he refrained; Javier was a gentleman of course.

“So, what made you want to fly all the way out to Bogotá? Was it your first option of choice or did you have a list of places to choose from?”Javier asked with a piqued, genuine curiosity about you and your life.

“I originally wanted to go to Italy and live on the Amafli coast with my rich husband that I have yet to meet..although, I bet he’s still out there and waiting to whisk me away on his Vespa.” You sighed dreamily. “I had always wanted to go to South America because of the rich and colorful culture, and I had a few friends that have made the trip as well and they all recommended it.”

Javier was listening to every word that passed your lips with intent. His gaze gently rested along your eyes and he thought it particularly cute that one of your main mannerisms when talking was that you used your hands to emphasize your words. Your facial emotions had a depth of range, and when you were passionate about something anyone in the room could easily depict it.

“The Amalfi coast, huh? Italy is very beautiful, and I’m sure you’d have no problem getting swept off your feet by some rich Italian hunk. I think you’ll find that Colombia has so much to offer, and you’re right about the rich and colorful culture here. It’s everywhere you look. Y’know, if you’re looking for a professional tour guide, I’d happily be your man.”

“I actually might have to take you up on that offer but don’t let it go to your head all at once, okay? I would hate to miss out on an opportunity to experience all that Colombia has to offer. What about you Javier? Was Bogotá your first choice?”

“I promise I’ll be the utmost professional. I would hate for you to get sucked into any of the tourist traps around here either. If I’m being honest with you, I outgrew Texas and needed a change desperately. You know that feeling of being trapped and living in a routine that is doing more harm than good? That’s what was beginning to happen to me. Anyway, in ‘79 I got my bachelors degree in sociology, and when the opportunity arose for me to leave Texas, I took it without looking back.”

You had not expected Javier to open up to you in this manner at all. It made you feel slightly guilty for creating a predisposition on who he was at the core. You were beginning to understand that you and Javi had a lot more in common than you would have ever thought. “It’s admirable that you recognized that in order to be happy, you needed to make a drastic change. I wish I had taken the leap sooner because for months I was weighing out the pros and cons to leave the states. The pros eventually weighed out the cons, and I’m happy I made the choices I did.”

“It was..tough to say the least. I pictured my life turning out completely different, and maybe then I still would have been happy, but those what ‘if’s’ had just started to fucking eat me alive. I was losing sleep and myself through the process. I left a lot behind in Laredo, including..” he paused as he stroked his thumb across his mustache in contemplation over whether or not he should continue.

You could tell from his body language alone that whatever he was having an internal battle over was something deep and personal. You didn’t want him to feel like he needed to share all of his secrets in one go. So you hesitantly reached your hand out and gently placed it along his covered knee, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“You don’t have to disclose anything that you don’t want to, Javi. Okay?” You softly reassured him.

Javi’s eyes briefly glanced down at where your hand was presently purchased around his knee. Normally he wasn’t comfortable with any form of PDA but he could tell your intent was genuine, and for that sole reason he deeply appreciated it. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you..it’s just that you might look at me differently than you do right now. We all have skeletons in our closet though right? Mine just happened to be leaving my fiancée at the altar on the day of our wedding. If I was going to change my life, I had to let go of the people I loved the most. I did it for her own good because I don’t think she would have been happy with me for long. She’s married to a stockbroker from Dallas and from what I have heard from friends back home, is that she’s really happy. I’m happy for her. She’s a good woman and perhaps if I wasn’t so flighty, I’d be married to her now.”

You felt your mouth suddenly feel dry at Javier’s confession. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how devastating it was for both him and his fiancée. Despite this, you could also understand why Javi did what he did. You couldn’t really blame him for making the decision to leave his old life behind entirely.

“I promise you that I hold no judgment over your past, Javier. I can understand why you made the choices that you did and it sounds like it all ended up working out for the better. I hope that you were able to heal from that experience because I can’t imagine the feelings you experienced when you realized that you had to leave her behind. You're right about everyone having skeletons in their closet. I think that’s what makes human beings Innately human is the fact that we all have lived experiences, and some of those experiences may in fact be shared. You’re a brave man for letting her go because you knew she deserved better. I don’t know many people that can honestly say that.”

Javi swallowed the lump that he didn’t realize was actively growing in his throat. You were wise beyond your years and the way you spoke to him in such a genuine tone had him feeling connected with you on a deeper level. It had been years since he had ever wanted to dip his toe into getting to know someone again, but he was secretly hoping that he would get to experience it with you.

“I appreciate you not holding it against me. I know it’s a large ball to drop on someone that you’ve only just started to become friendly with, but I figured that you weren’t the type to fault someone for their raw honesty.” He placed his hand gently over yours and neither you or Javi had noticed that Steve and Connie hadn’t been sitting at the booth for at least an hour. They had quietly left the bar when they realized that you and Javi were deep in conversation and they wanted to give you both all the privacy.

“Please feel free to tell me if I’m being too straightforward, and I promise that I’m not trying to make a move on you, but you mentioned wanting to experience Colombia’s culture and that includes the cuisine. There’s this really amazing empanada place not too far from here that’s open into the early morning hours. It’s my favorite joint around here, and I was wondering if maybe you’d like to get a late night bite with me? I’m genuinely enjoying my time with you, and I don’t want it to end.” Javi was unsure where his sudden confidence boost sprouted up from, but he had a sneaking suspicion it was due to his last conversation with Catalina and treating you with the utmost respect as a person.

You had half the mind to want to reach out and press the back of your hand against Javi’s forehead to check his temperature because this was not the Javier Peña that you had grown accustomed to. “I’m always in for a late night bite, and you had me at Empanadas.” You were already reaching for your purse just as Javi had placed down a few bills onto the table.

“It’s on me, cariño. I guess Steve and Connie slipped out when we were deep in conversation. I thought they were sitting there the entire time.” He remarked as he pulled out his pack of smokes and placed a cigarette between his lips before he casually slipped out of the booth and stood off to the side so you would have room.

“Thank you, Javi. I don’t remember them leaving either. What time is it anyway?” You slung your purse over your shoulder as you slipped out of the booth with ease.

“It’s a quarter to one.” He gestured to the wall clock above the bar as he lit his cigarette and slipped the lighter back into his pocket.

The late night air outside the bar was balmy and the nightlife was still present as you and Javi strolled down the street. “So, how did you find this empanada place? Did you just happen to stumble upon it or…?” You were walking alongside each other, one arm casted at your sides.

“I was drunk and absolutely starving.” He responded with a light chuckle as he blew the cigarette smoke off to the side so it wouldn’t billow around yours or his face. “It was my first weekend here actually and I stumbled out of the club and found this little slice of heaven. It was the best goddamn empanada I had ever had.”

“I could have guessed that you were drunk.” You softly giggled. “Well, I am fully expecting these to be the best goddamn empanadas that I have ever had the pleasure of tasting.” You looked over at him with a small grin.

What Javi really wanted to say was that you were cute; he opted to playfully wiggling his brows instead. “I think I can definitely handle that hermosa.”

Fresh empanadas in hand, you and Javier found a nearby park bench that neither of you knew it yet, but this specific bench was going to hold a sentimental meaning for both of you in the coming months.

The first bite was heavenly along your tastebuds. You had experienced your fair share of delicious food in your lifetime, but this empanada was on a whole other level.

“This is fucking delicious.” You mumbled between bites as your back comfortably rested against the parkbench. “You were not joking when you said that these were the best empanadas you had ever had.”

Javi has taken a few bites of his own as he eagerly watched for your reaction. “I don’t lie about stuff like that cariño. I take my food spots very seriously.” He stated with a chuckle as his hand that wasn’t holding the empanada was gently resting along the edge of the bench, fingers lightly brushing across the exposed skin along your shoulder.

“I’m looking forward to seeing what other places you are planning on showing me Javi.”

A comfortable silence washed over the two of you as you finished off your late night snacks. Javi was the one to break it in the end.

“Before you decided to take the leap and move to Colombia, did you have any dreams that you wanted to fulfill back home?”

You looked over at him feeling the heat of his body so close to yours with your knees brushing and the sound of crickets chirping in the background. “Oh, yes..I had many dreams before I left home. The biggest one was that I wanted to pursue writing in hopes to become a published author. I actually also got my bachelors in sociology, but I minored in English as well. Writing has always been something that I genuinely have enjoyed, but unfortunately it doesn’t pay the bills.”

“You were a sociology major as well? No wonder we get along so well.” He playfully teased. “What is your favorite genre to write? I’m sure if you still had the desire to, you could put some time aside to write a book.”

“Yeah I actually started off as a psychology major but the courses were so pointed at the patients and not the outside factors. Not to mention all the fucked up experiments that went on..like the Stanford Prison experiment that happened in ‘71? Or the Learned Helplessness experiment in ‘65? That’s just to name a few. Anyway, I’ve dabbled in writing just about anything you can imagine. Romance, mystery’s, life experiences, you name it, I’ve written it. I would love to write a book someday.”

Javi turned his nose up at the psychology experiments that you had listed. He agreed that they were certainly barbaric in nature and he completely understood why you switched majors. “I do remember questioning the morals and ethics behind those two experiments when they came out, and I can understand why you were disturbed by it. I think any morally sound person would find situations like that to be disturbing to visualize. If you ever do end up writing a book, I’ll be sure to pick up a copy and be the first person in line at your book signings.” he expressed with a tender smile.

You weren’t sure if it was the glow from the overhead streetlight highlighting the DEA’s features in a certain softness, or if it was the ambience delivered from the chirping crickets, or the way that Javier showed genuine interest in having a late night conversation with on this very park bench. One thing was for certain, something had shifted inside of you positively and you wanted to nurture that feeling.

“Javi, I think this is the longest that you and I have had an actual conversation that didn’t involve you trying to get into my pants. Listen, I know that you and I got off on the wrong foot from the moment I met you, but I’m genuinely having a really nice time with you right now.” Your soft admittance had the DEA agent feeling slightly flustered under your gaze.

“Really? You’re not just saying that to be nice or anything, right? I genuinely have had a really wonderful evening with you hermosa. It’s been a long time since I have connected with a woman like this. I just want you to know that I have no ulterior motives for asking you out for a late night bite. I really would love to get to know you, and I know that I let my ego get ahead of me in the beginning. I’m more than appreciative that you have given me what I feel is to be a second chance? I won’t deny that I find you to be incredibly attractive, but there’s more to you than what meets the eye..”

“No, I’m not just saying it to be nice or to inflate your ego or anything like that. My words are genuine and if I didn’t want to be here right now, I most certainly wouldn’t be. All night you have shown me a different side of yourself, and I hope that I get to see more of you, Peña.”

Neither of you had realized that your bodies were naturally gravitating towards one another as Javi’s thumb and forefinger gently came to rest along the cleft of your chin.

“Can I kiss you, please?” He whispered through the balmy air that blanketed you in a humid embrace.

“Yes, you can, Javi.” You murmured in response.

The tip of Javi’s thumb lightly brushed across your lower lip as he leaned in. His eyes flickered down to your own as he replaced his thumb with his lips pressing to yours. It was a slow, gentle kiss that had you feeling breathless the second his lips touched yours. Javi’s kisses were delicate and sincere, with a slight edge of something deeper as his hand cradled your jaw. Your lips moved in sync as the crickets chirped and the stars above twinkled. He only deepened the kiss when you leaned in closer, grasping the collar of his shirt as his tongue swiped along your lower lip with practiced ease.

You tasted just like he imagined; cherry lip gloss with a hint of cigarette smoke that lingered on your tongue.

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[undercoverpena]

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

[agentmarcuspike]

#13 with Javi Peña

Domesticated Javi? Yes please.

prompt: leaving notes for them around the home pairing: javi peña x reader a/n: i took the prompt and ran far away with it, sorry !! word count: ~1.7k

Javi is tired. His day has been filled with nothing but disappointments, starting when he had had to leave you as he left for work in the morning, knowing you wouldn’t be there when he got back home. It’s your anniversary day, five years together, and while he’s not usually a guy to make a big deal out of special days and occasions, he wants nothing more tonight than to share a bottle of wine with you on the couch, and fall asleep on your chest with your hands in his hair.

Instead, his plan is to open an expensive bottle of whiskey, and finish half of it alone on the couch, before coming in his own hand with his phone in the other, hoping for at least a goodnight text from you. His hopes and expectations, however, fade with each step up the stairs to your apartment. He knows you’d be there if you could, but this was a busy time of year for you at work, and you’d had to fly across the country last minute for a boring week at a boring seminar with boring people in a boring hotel. 

As he finally reaches your floor, hand digging deep in his pocket for the key, he squints at the door. A note? He recognizes your loopy handwriting instantly. Scribbled on a piece of pink paper, hearts dotting every i, is the message you must have hung up before leaving: 

i’m sorry i can’t be there to celebrate our day but i’m gonna show you a good time either way

The dread he’s been carrying around in his stomach all day subsides for a second. Javi pulls the note off the door and inspects it closer. Of course you had to make it rhyme, he thinks, shaking his head with a tiny smile. While knowing you’ve left this for him makes the thought of an evening alone more bearable, it also makes him miss you even more. With a sigh, he pockets the note, unlocks the door, and steps inside.

Without bothering to untie them, he kicks his shoes off like usual, and shoves them into the corner so he won’t stumble over them when he’s pissed later. As he walks past the hallway mirror, throwing himself a scowl like always, he does a double take. Obscuring his reflection is another note. The same pink paper as on the door, but even though the writing is more than legible, he can’t read it. He can’t read it, because he can’t take his eyes off the picture next to it. 

It’s you. Your face is cut off by the framing, but he can see your mischievous little smile. Of course you’re smiling, you know what the underwear you’re wearing does to him. Black lace covers only the parts of you he’s most eager to see, except for on one side of your chest where the strap is pulled down far enough so that he would have seen had you not been covering yourself with a hand, squeezing your breasts together slightly, enhancing your cleavage; Javi’s favorite pillow. His jeans, tight as they usually are, suddenly appear even more strained, and he adjusts himself slightly as he reluctantly looks away to read the accompanying note:

look at you, all handsome  tall, dark, cool, and lean i’ve left you in the shower something to get you clean

Javi’s cheeks grow warm, and when he looks back up accidentally meeting his own gaze in the mirror, he notices his face is redder than usual. He can’t believe this, you actually have him blushing, alone in your apartment. It’s not like you don’t tell him all the time how attractive you find him. And it’s not like he doubts it. Javi’s a confident guy, and he knows he got lucky with his genes. But something about seeing it written down in your squiggly writing, stupid rhymes included, apparently makes him shy. He puts the note with the other one in his pocket, and takes another look at your picture before bringing it with him into the bathroom.

There, on the sink, is a bottle of his favorite scented body wash, and your own fancy shampoo. The one he loves the smell of, making him late for work the mornings he wakes up with his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent. And folded neatly next to them, is a bathrobe. White, classic, but with a little monogram on the chest. A tiny J and a P. His initials. Javi laughs to himself. You know he hates stuff like that, but it’s just terrible enough to be funny. And the robe itself is so soft, he can’t help but bring his face down to it, just for a second, letting the fluffy fabric graze his tired skin. It smells new, and reminds him how much he can’t wait for you to get home so you can wear it around for him, the material soaking up the delicious fragrance of your skin. He wishes it already smelled like you.

Javi makes quick work of unbuttoning his shirt and jeans, throwing the former into the laundry bin, and stepping out of the latter, leaving them in a heap on the floor with his underwear. Giving the picture you took for him another look, he wishes he could take it with him into the shower. Instead he commits your curves, your shape, the one he’s already so familiar with, the way he knows the underwear you’re wearing leaves little dents and marks on your skin when he takes it off you, to memory. He gives himself a few tugs, almost fully hard already, and leaves the picture on the sink, bringing the mental images of you into the shower with him.

As the scalding water hits his skin, it runs down his body and takes the disappointments of the day with it down the drain. Javi lathes himself up with the foaming soap, and considers for a second finishing himself off as he fists his length languidly with his hand. He realizes, though, that if he can’t cum with you, he’d at least like to hear your voice through the phone when he hopefully gets a call from you later in the night, once you’ve finished all your work duties and just like him find yourself under the covers in your lonely hotel room. 

Getting out of the shower, drying himself off with a towel, he goes to put his new robe on, but as he unfolds it, another slip of paper falls out. He bends down to pick it up and reads:

now that you’re all cozy looking/feeling good it’s time for you to move on and get in you some food

As if on cue, his stomach growls. It’s embarrassingly loud, until he remembers he’s alone, and there’s no one there to be embarrassed for. You would have laughed. You always do when his body makes involuntary strange sounds. Whether it’s his stomach growling, his voice cracking, or gasses passing either way. He never thought that would be something he could joke with someone about. Especially not someone like you, someone he’s attracted to, someone he lo–... But with you, everything is easy. Relaxed. There’s nothing to hide. He doesn’t want to hide anything from you, not even bodily functions he’d usually be strangely ashamed of.

Hair still dripping wet, he gives his head a quick rub with the towel before putting on his new bathrobe, making his way to the kitchen. It takes him the whole way there to realize that something is missing. The usual dust and crumbs that would crunch and stick to the undersides of his bare feet; you’ve vacuumed. Not that it’s something unusual, but you’ve both been so busy lately, he didn’t expect you to do that before leaving for a week. But you did. And the gesture makes his heart ache a little more because he can’t show you his appreciation the way he wants to. 

As expected, Javi finds another note on the fridge, next to the postcards and to-do lists that usually adorn it. Your little poem makes him chuckle:

i’m gonna cook you dinner eat me (out) as dessert just kidding, here’s an apple pie enjoy it, you pervert

He eats the pie cold straight from the dish. It’s good because you made it. (And because it’s apple pie, it’s never wrong.) The pie to apple ratio perfect, the crust just crumbly enough. He wonders if there’s any whipped cream, the one in a spray can you like for your hot chocolate, but the pie is gone before he gets to check. 

Heart and belly equally full, Javi sinks into the couch with a content sigh. He takes out his phone and stares at it for a second. He briefly considers waiting for you to call him, in case you’re still busy, but it’s getting late, and he’s getting desperate. He needs to hear your voice.

You pick up on the second ring. 

“Hola,” you greet him. He grins.

“Hola, mi amor.”

It’s quiet for a moment, both of you happy to just be together, one way or another.

“Happy anniversary,” you continue.

Javi shakes his head with a laugh. “Very.”

“Did you find all of my notes?” 

Revisiting them in his head, he lists: “Door, mirror, bathroom, kitchen.”

“You missed one, then.”

Javi’s brows furrow. “Where?”

“Bedroom.”

His head snaps towards the door on the other end of the room, and he practically jumps up.

“Please tell me you’re naked in there,” he murmurs into the phone. You laugh.

“Oh, I wish,” you sigh back.

Javi opens the door carefully, and peeks inside. His hand finds the light switch routinely. It flickers on, and the room is… nothing unusual. There is, however, yet another note on the bed.

“You’re gifting me a whole fucking biblioteca, querida,” he jokes, reaching for the slip of paper. You’ve signed it with a lipstick mark, sealed it with a kiss. His thumb brushes the evidence of your lips carefully, mindful not to smudge it. 

“Just read it, baby.”

He does.

i miss your body, baby every moan and hum now let me talk you through it let me hear you come

Javi’s robe is on the floor in an instant, and he crawls onto the bed. 

“Baby,” he whispers, one hand on his phone and the other on himself, closing his eyes. “Talk to me.”

#javi peña fanfiction #javi pena fanfiction #javi peña x reader #javi pena x you #domesticated javi #my writing

[peterparkersnose]

Matchmaker

part: 2 part 1

pairing: Javier Pena x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: slut shaming, jealousy, snitches, angst, mentions and use of weapons, blood, near death experience, hospitals, regret, fluff at the end :)

a/n i hope you enjoy! i hope its not too sappy, i know javier pena would never realistically say/do any of these things unless he was p whipped but... you never know. that gif is so sexy dude fuck i want him so bad fr fr 

summary Y/N and Javi go check out the abandoned building and run into some trouble

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 7 mins 44 seconds

The old warehouse that your team had raided the past month came into view. Javi drove along the dirt road and hummed to a tune on the radio.

The closest you were ever going to get to driving with a boyfriend and singing songs in the car. Right?

The car pulling up and the slams of the car doors should have been enough to run anyone out of that building. It was swept by security every night and made sure it was abandoned.

“What do you think your going to find in here?” Javier asked, pulling up the do not enter tape around the entrance. You shrugged. “I dunno. It just feels wrong.”

The empty building echoed from your heels. You and Javi walked around the first floor.

“This is just a big empty box of concrete,” he sighed, walking over to a pile of scrap wood and kicking it ever so slightly. The sound from that bounced off the walls, startling a few stray birds.

This sudden noise scared you. You turned around to reach for your gun and tripped on your heels. Javi saw this and reached out his arms, catching you in his embrace. You were breathing heavy as he held you in his arms.

“Just some birds, mi amor.” he chuckled, helping you re gain your balance.

Following him upstairs, you couldn’t get his strong grip on you off your mind.

Upstairs was more complicated. There were still abandoned work benches and offices that weren’t swept out in the demolition. Any homeless person or one of Escobar’s men could have snuck in easily and stayed here for a while. You were sure the guards didn’t check every single office, as there were too many.

You searched the various papers left on the benches and ground, nothing interesting stood out to you.

“Are you gonna help?” you asked Javi, bent down going through a stack of files about grain sale statistics in Spanish. “Shh,” Javi said, silencing your hands filing through papers. You hadn’t noticed how quiet he got and how far ahead of you he was.

“What’s the matter?” you asked, standing up into full view and shrugging your hands.

The door to one of the offices swung open. A man was talking very loudly into a phone in one hand, a gun in the other.

You turned to grab for your gun. He was standing mostly in your view, and saw you first. He mumbled something in Spanish and didn’t hesitate to aim at you. He shot his gun as you recognized what was happening. You moved fast enough for him to shoot your shoulder.

Javier panicked at how quickly the scene happened. Without a second thought, he aimed his gun at the man and shot him in the chest a few times.

“Y/N!” he yelled, rushing around the tables to find you. He found you flat on your back, eyes wide open in shock. “Shit, shit.” he whispered, falling to the ground and taking off his suit jacket to wrap around your shoulder.

“We’re going to need to walk, can you walk?” he asked. You stared up at him in unimaginable shock, unable to answer. “Y/N! Shit. Have you ever been shot before?” he asked, his right hand moving for his walkie talkie strapped to his belt. “A-28 we need medical at 748 Carerra 48,” he said urgently, repeating the message into the box until he got a dispatch response.

You were bleeding and you were bleeding a lot. Your breathes became choppy as Javier held you in his arms. He kept wondering if he shot an artery or not. “Stay with me, please.” he whimpered, moving your hair out of your face. He had accidentally wiped blood on your face. He looked at his hands, and then his shirt. All were deeply painted with crimson. “Please, no, please don’t do this.” he pleaded, holding your body close to his.

“Javi…” you whispered in his ear. “Everything is going to be okay.” he assured you. Shouting came from downstairs.

“Up here!” Javier yelled. Paramedics filed into the office space and spotted you two quickly. He helped them lift your body onto a stretcher. Your wide eyes stayed locked on him. “I-I have to go.” he said to you, holding your hand and following you down the stairs. “No,” you muttered, tightening your grip on him. The shallowness of your voice tore him apart.

The caution tape had been cut by the paramedics. When he reached outside, the majority of your squadron was out watching the scene unfold. The ambulance was small, big enough only to fit you and some paramedics. “No,” you begged, reaching your good arm towards him. “Don’t-” you sighed quietly, only enough for Javier to hear.

“Leave.” you finished. His last view of you was your longing eyes locked with his and his suit coat wrapped around your wound. The dark blue had become soaked with a purple/red. The back doors to the ambulance slammed shut. Javier was left in the dust from the now screeching vehicle making its way as carefully as it could down a dirt road.

Javier broke down on his knees. His bloodied hands cradled his face. He publicly cried for the first time since he was a child. The whole squad watched him break down in front of the scene.

“Javi,” Steve said, carefully approaching him and placing his hand on his shoulder. Javi shrugged off his hand. He returned to his feet, used his wrists to clear off any tears on his face, and rolled up his sleeves. Steve walked back to the police car with him.

The view of the man who had shot you came into place. He was being carried out by other paramedics. Javier recognized him as one of Escobar’s men. His heart sank.

Your feeling about this warehouse was right.

-

Steve stood with Javi on one side, Connie on the other. They watched you through the glass of your bedroom. Javier was leaning on the wall, resting his head against it. His eyes kept fluttering shut until he was reminded of his surroundings and was flung back into this horrible reality.

“Maybe you should get some sleep,” Connie suggested, tucking her clipboard under her arm. “Nah,” Javi said, opening his eyes once again to look at you. “I got her, you don’t have to worry.” she re assured Javi. “She’s the best in Colombia,” Steve said smugly, swinging an arm around his wife. He was happy to have a reason to spend time with his wife during work hours, but upset over the circumstances.

His eyes moved to the hospital couch next to your bed. Then back to you.

They removed the bullet successfully. It didn’t hit an artery, but a major vein going towards it. After a two hour long surgery, you came out with a wrapped shoulder extending down to your elbow, and a recovery note from the doctor. You were going to be fine. They put you in a medicated sleep for a while, just to let the shoulder get used to the placement and to heal before you were awake and moving around. You were expected to make a full recovery.

“It’s getting late, man.” Steve said, checking his watch. A little after nine. “You should go home.”

Javi scoffed at the suggestion. “Not until she’s awake.”

Steve sighed. “She’s going to be fine, you need to-”

“I can’t. I almost lost her. The thought of her dying and never coming back scares the absolute shit out of me.” he hissed at Steve. Steve’s eyes widened as he stepped back. “You good?” he asked. “No. I-I…”

“You like her, don’t you.”

Javi didn’t answer, instead just crossed his arms and looked at you. He closed his eyes and took a deep breathe. “I don’t think I could live without her,”

“Then do something about it!” Steve exclaimed, smiling. “She cares about you, man. She cares a lot about you. So do something, please. I’m begging you!” he laughed, his hand slapping Javier’s back.

“Have a good night, my friend.” he smiled, trailing off into the hallway.

He made his way quietly into your room. He slowly shut the door behind him. He took off his watch, his belt, his shoes, and removed his badge and gun holster from his waist and set them down at the table next to the couch.

He made his way over to you. His thumb brushed over your forehead as his hand caressed your cheek. The blood had returned to your face, you weren’t so deathly pale anymore. “Good night, mi amor.” he whispered, giving you the softest kiss on your forehead.

He unbuttoned a few buttons on his shirt and pulled up his sleeves. He attempted to get comfortable on the hospital couch and shut his eyes.

-

Your eyes fluttered open just a bit before dawn. Putting the pieces together, you reached over to touch your wound. You seered at the touch, wiping your eyes instead and taking in your surroundings.

Hospital. You were well aware of what happened and remembered it so clearly. You thought you were going to die, die without holding Javier Peña at least once.

You blinked and turned your head to look at the sunrise. To your surprise, there he was. Javier Peña asleep on a couch. How long had he been there?

He looked exhausted. His hair was disheveled, his freshly new outfit was already wrinkled. You remembered how he took off his suit jacket and draped it over your arm. He was always such a gentleman, even when he didn’t try.

The beautiful Colombian sunrise began. The deep pinks, yellows, and oranges never failed. Your arm hurt horribly, but you weren’t concerned at that moment. Javi was there, everything was okay. Letting your mind wander, you lay waiting for him to wake up or a nurse to wander in.

-

“And everything is feeling alright?” the nurse asked. “Mhm, yes. Thank you,”

Javi shot up straight out of his slumber at the sound of your voice.

“Well good morning to you,” you chuckled, smiling at his sudden awakening. “Why didn’t you wake me?” he asked, checking his watch. Seven thirty.

“You looked so tired, I couldn’t.”

Javi got up and went to your side. He grasped your hand, and knelt down. “I’m so happy your okay,” he sighed, kissing your knuckles.

“You alright?” you asked, eyebrows raised with a suspicious tone. “Better than alright,” he smiled, looking down at your hands. He wanted to slap a ring on there as soon as he could.

Connie bursted through the door holding your breakfast tray.

“Ah, so you finally told her Javi. Congrats, the two of you.” she smiled, setting the food down in front of you. Swiftly turning to leave, Connie didn’t realize she spoiled his whole plan.

Javi had the look of defeat on his place, wishing this could have gone so much differently.

“What is she talking about?” you asked. Javi sighed. “I wish this could have been under better circumstances,” he sighed, getting up and rubbing the back of his neck anxiously.

“And?” you asked, nervous to what he was about to say.

He took a deep breathe.

“Seeing you on the brink of death scared the shit out of me Y/N. I thought I lost you.”

“What?”

“Steve told me something a few days ago in the break room-”

“Oh?” you asked, already knowing what Steve said. What a fucking snitch.

“And I really thought to myself. What am I looking for? I spent all my time with these other women, searching for something to fill the void. Nothing ever seemed good enough from them. It was never enough. But what Steve said made me think. Why was I seeing other women when the one I truly wanted was in front of me the whole time?”

Your jaw was dropped.

“I’m stupid, okay? I-I… watching you grab for me in the ambulance broke my heart. It made me realize things I never thought I wanted before.”

“And what’s that?” you asked, a smirk appearing on your lips.

“You.”

“Really?” you smiled.

“Yes!” he exclaimed, returning to his knees. “If you would have me…” “Of course I’ll have you,” “Please, Y/N L/N, be mine.”

He wrapped his arms around you, cautious of your wound. His cologne reeked off of him along with sweat, but you didn’t care. You felt his mustache tickle your shoulder.

“I won’t ever let this happen again. I won’t ever let you go.” he whispered in your ear.

“Like I’m ever going to let you leave,” you chuckled.

Who would have known Javier Peña’s street days would end with a single bullet.

tag list: : @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @samanthacookieone @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry

(my queue didn’t post for some reason yesterday, just caught it now)

#peterparkersnose #javier pena masterlist #javier peña blurb #javier pena imagine #javi peña #javier peña angst #pedro pascal javier peña #javier pena fluff #javier pena blurb #javier pena fanfiction #javi peña fanfiction #narcos us #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal angst #peterparkersnosework

[softstarlite]

The Casualty of Love

CHAPTER 2

Summary: He's back home. You have almost forgotten how warm his eyes were and how big your crush for him was.

Warnings: Age gap (Javier is 40 and reader is 27), talks of baby loss, talks of pregnancy, angst, cheating, mentions of cancer, mentions of death.

Rating: +18 (not explicit)

Word Count: 2.9k

Chapter 1 / Masterlist

A/N: here you go guys!! Second chapter is up!! I'm feeling so much better from my stupid cold. I would like to keep a schedule with posting, my goal is to post at least one new chapter every week but I had a cornea transplant less than 5 months ago (I still have 14 stitches on my right eye) so sometimes I need to rest my eye from screen time or the pain sometimes gets too bad and I need to rest in general, so I don't know if I'll be able to meet my goal every week, sorry in advance. I hope you guys like this new chapter!! <3 <3

Divider by @saradika

Javier wipes the sweat of his hands on the front of his jeans for the fourth time in the last hour since he started getting ready to go to Maria´s house, he looks at his reflection on the mirror, he can feel fear engulf his body, fear of disappointing Maria, he wasn't the same man he was when he left for Colombia. That day…

His mom, Alma, had been diagnosed with lung cancer four months before it happened, when Lorraine had told him that she was pregnant, he was shit scared, how could he be a father? He didn't know anything about being one, he was only 27, he assumed that he had at least 5 or 6 years more before even thinking about having a family of his own.

He didn't hesitate to get on one knee and proposed to Lorraine, part of him was happy that his mom would be able to meet at least one of her grandchildren; the doctors had already prepare them for the worst, the cancer was very aggressive, and even if his mom was still young, only 44, they had detected it very late.

The night before the wedding Lorraine showed up at his parents ranch, crying her heart out. They were sleeping in different houses since it was bad luck to see each other before the wedding. He got really worried, he didn't believe in that tradition, she had been the one very keen in doing it so it was already rare that she had showed up there unannounced but even more that she showed up crying.

“Lor? What happened?” he had been sitting on the front porch when she appeared, he got up from his seat quickly and headed to her putting his hands on her cheeks “What is it Lor? Is the baby okay?” he asked her with so much worry in his voice.

Lorraine only kept saying sorry and shaking her head no again and again. “Please baby, tell me what is happening, are you hurt?” he pleaded her.

“I'm sorry Javi… I'm so sorry… There´s no baby…” she said, not able to meet his gaze.

“What? Baby…” he could feel tears in his eyes already, he thought that she had lost it, he never would've thought that she had done what she did. He tries to make her look at him ¡. “Baby…Lor, look at me. Baby it's not your fault, we need to take you-” he was interrupted by her.

“No, Javi… There's no baby, there never has been a baby…” she took a step away from him, feeling shame in what she had done.

“What? Lorraine, this is not funny… Stop it” that was the only possibility in his head, she must have been pranking him, she would never hurt him this way, she loved him, right?

“I'm so sorry Javi, baby…” she tried to reach for him now but he didn't say anything and just walked inside without a word.

The next morning no one could find Javier, until his mom saw a little note on the kitchen table where he had written that he had accepted the job with the DEA in Colombia that the rest could be explained by Lorraine.

You were only 14 when you were sat down by your mom and Alma and got the news about her sickness, that was your first heartbreak, but definitely not your last. You loved Alma like a second mother, she was there when you said your first words, she had been the one encouraging you when you took your first steps… You couldn't imagine a life and a world without her, without her smile or her kindness… No, it had to be a mistake, the doctors mixed up some papers and they gave her the diagnosis of someone else, she couldn't leave you…

When Javier left, you weren't given the real reason from the adults around you, they told you that he and Lorraine weren't together anymore and he had to go work in Colombia, that was it. Obviously, living in a place like Laredo you heard the truth very soon, and felt heartbroken all over again for him, as big as your crush for him was, when you saw how excited he was when he talked about anything related with the baby in the weekly dinners your families shared, it filled your heart to see him just happy, so you couldn't understand how Lorraine had been able to break him like that, she said that he loved him and wanted to spend her entire life with him but then do that? How can you be so cruel to someone that you supposedly love?

A year later from Javier´s move to Colombia, Alma passed away, you only remember crying for three days straight without even sleeping. You remember your mom telling you that “Javiercito is coming for the funeral, he'll be here tomorrow morning”, then the next thing you remember is been dressed in all black, that made you think that Alma would´ve hate it, then not been able to see the casket through the tears and the last thing you remember of that day was how Javier had put his arms around you, caressing your hair and telling you how much Alma loved you and that would never leave you. It never did, you could feel her love everyday, in little things like the chirping of the birds outside, the warm sun, the little desserts you would bake with her recipes, etc…

That was the last time you saw Javier, when you were 15 and crying for the biggest lost in your life.

He parks his truck on Maria´s driveway and gets out with a nervous sigh. After he knocks on the door twice, you open the door with a big smile, fuck, he thought you wouldn't be here. He didn't have a problem with you being here, on the contrary, he was very happy when he saw you the other day, it had been way too long without seeing you. But the problem was that you had grown up… And fuck, did the years had treat you amanzingly. You were a full on woman now, and he didn't like that, because it made his body feel things that it shouldn't. If Maria or his own father could read what had gone through his mind since he first saw you a few days ago, he would definitely be six feet under.

“Hey! You're here!” you say with that big smile on your face. He doesn't say anything, just nods and gives you a tight smile back.

“Come in!” you move a little to give him enough space to come inside. “Mom is still cooking what must be her twentieth dish” you chuckle. He slips inside but you hadn't anticipated how broad his shoulders were so he bumps one of his shoulders into you.

“Oh, sorry” he apologizes and you can't help but feel a million goosebumps all over your body. “She shouldn't have trouble herself…”

You shake the feeling away, you weren't a stupid teenager anymore. “yeah, tell that to her” you smirk knowing he would never dare.

He walks to the kitchen with you behind, he remembers the way as if no time has passed, as if he hadn't gone through more than a decade without putting a foot in this house. When he makes it past the arch of the kitchen, he sees your mom, her back facing him, he can see the grey conquering her whole hair. For a moment he can almost see his own mom beside her cutting some vegetables.

Seeing his silence, you decide to clear your throat to make your presence known to your mom. She turns around starting a sentence that sounds like a question about who was at the door, but as soon as she sees Javier there, before her, her mouth shuts and she freezes. Knowing they'll need a moment, you walk around them to the stove to continue to stir whatever dish your mom is making now, so it doesn't burn while they catch up.

“Javiercito!” she almost screams, launching herself into him, a hand on the back of his head and the other arm across his back.

“Maria…” is all that he can get out of his mouth, apart from the biggest breath out that he has ever let out. He didn't even know that he was holding that breath for so long.

“Déjame verte bien mijo (Let me get a good look at you, my son)” she pulls away from him and pushes him a little back by the shoulders, then looks him up and down like she was examining that he isn´t missing anything.

“Ma, esta bien, no le agobies (Mom, he's fine, don't bother him)” you say from the stove, not even looking at them.

“¿Bien? (fine?) Have you seen him? Está demasiado delgado, gracias a dios que prepare suficiente comida. Siéntate, mijo. (He's too skinny, thank god i´ve prepare enough food. Sit, my son) I'll bring you some food right away” She says, patting his cheek and signaling with a hand to the kitchen table, then she goes back to the stove and replaces the place you were filling.

You chuckle and shake your head in disbelief. “Do you want something to drink, Javi?” you ask him while opening the fridge to get a beer for yourself.

He talks again after feeling overwhelmed by the situation. “Sure, whatever you´re having” with that you pull out another beer for him and after uncapping them, you hand him one. “Thanks” he says, not meeting your eye.

You sit across from him on the kitchen table and take a sip of your own beer. Your mom puts a bowl of Pozole in front of each of you, and while you eat, she and Javier talk about a million things, how things around the house had been since your dad died, how you and her go to Chucho´s every now and then, how you help Chucho everytime the fruit trees need harvesting (which brings a blush to your cheeks when Javi asks if that's right and looks at you), and of course your mom starts to let Javi know about all the gossip he has missed in Laredo, which by his face, he couldn't care less to be honest but i guess your mom didn't want to pick that up. He just nods and hums while eating, while your mom tells him about how the girl from the Gonzalez´s was seen in the local theater every week casually talking and giggling with the guy working there; after a bit something pricks his ears, specifically when your name is mentioned.

“And you wouldn't believe all the commotion that it caused , pff, nos tuvimos que quedar en casa varios días antes de que ella se atreviera a enseñar la cara (we had to stay at home for a few days before she was brave enough to show her face)” she says while picking up both of your bowls to bring to the sink. You don't know where to hide in that moment, you couldn't believe your mom was telling him about that.

“Ma…” you say, trying to make her drop the subject. She obviously doesn't want to catch your desperation.

“What? Sorry i was lost in my head for a moment” he says not realizing that you don't want the subject to be brought up.

“Ay mijo, te estaba diciendo (i was telling you) about how she used to go out with the Lopez´s boy, Diego, and she heard from Doña Lucía about him and a girl, that no one knew, been seen in Jacinto´s ice cream shop, then she decided to confront him that same day, but she instead saw him and the girl on the town square just there,” she makes a dramatic gesture with her hands like she was physically pointing at them right there. “just sitting on a bench, muy acaramelados los muy sinvergüenzas (very lovey-dovey, those scoundrels). Doña Lucía told me that she just took the lemonade in the girl's hand and threw it to him, allí delante de todos, ¿tu te crees, mijo? (in front of everybody, can you believe it, my son?)” she shakes her head in almost disappointment.

“Well, if I'm honest with you Maria. Creo que le hizo poco, yo le hubiese dado un buen puño” you can see how his hands become fists, and his jaw becomes more tense. Javi feels a fire inside of him that he hasn't felt since he left Colombia, he already knows that if he crosses paths with Diego Lopez, he won't be exactly kind towards him.”Wait, he cheated and you had to hide at home?!” he asks, now looking at you.

“I didn't hide, she did” you say pointing towards your mom, who's washing the dishes, with your head. “I was just going through a breakup like a normal person” you shrug your shoulders to try to take some weight off of the conversation.

He nods, understanding now the situation. “Good, you shouldn't feel embarrassed, it's his loss” he huffs “He must be as stupid as he was when he was a kid” he says more to himself than to you, it makes you blush again.

“Javier Jesús Peña!!” your mom scolds him from the sink, turning her head towards him. Javi for a moment feels like a teenager again, being scolded by Maria and his mom for saying a bad word in the kitchen of Pena´s ranch while they make empanadas.

“What? No podes defender al desgraciado, hizo daño a nuestra vampirita (you can't defend that bastard, he hurted our little vampire” he chuckles sincerely now. You gasp at the mention of your old childhood nickname he gave you for being obsessed with the book Dracula when you were 9 years old.

“You don't want to play that game, Peña” you challenge him, squinting your eyes at him, but a little smile in your lips betrays your facade. He laughs with his whole belly now, throwing his head back. You decide right then that you like seeing him laugh sincerely a lot.

After some hours of more delicious food and banter, Javier informs you that he needs to go back to the ranch before his dad comes looking for him for leaving him all day alone with the chores.

You walk him to the door, his arms full of mountains of tupperware full of leftovers that your mom had insisted him to take for himself and Chucho.

You open the door for him since he has his hands occupied, those hands that you´ve been stealing glances to all day, you wonder how rough they would feel around your own hand, around your neck, around your- “Thanks for um… everything” he says interrupting your thread of thoughts.

“Don't mention it” you give him a shy smile, like he could´ve read what you had been thinking. Next thing you know, your mouth is working by it´s own mind, you ask without thinking.”Are you going to the barbecue at Doña Lucia's house this Sunday after church?” when you realize how eager your voice sounds about the prospect of seeing him again in less than two days you add “I believe she invited Chucho the other day, and i'm sure she did it in person with the sole purpose of having you at the barbecue and confirm the rumors of you being fully back home” you chuckle trying to play it cool, god you felt like you were 15 again, drooling for him.

His dad had told him about the gathering but he wasn't planning on going, but now, seeing the slight spark your eyes got when you asked him about his possible attendance, he couldn't think of a better plan for Sunday. “Yeah, my pops told me the other day. I take you´re going too?” you nod with doe eyes and he can't help his eyes for going down to where you tongue tips out of your mouth to wet your lower lip, he gulps and can feel a drop of sweat going down his spine; his mind wondering how you tongue and your lips might feel against his own, against his neck or his chest…

Your mom suddenly yells your name from inside the house. “Dani is calling you, mija!!” you both can hear her voice coming from the living room where the telephone is.

“Dila que voy ma!! (tell her i'll be right there mom!!)” you yell towards her, turning your head over your shoulder, then you turn towards Javi again. You guys keep looking into each other's eyes for what feels like a second and an eternity at the same time until you decide that if you don't stop it, your mom will come over and ruin the moment even more. “I'll see you on Sunday then?”

He nods and then does something that makes you melt into a puddle of water into the ground, he kisses your cheek and with a breathy and deep whisper wishes you a good day to then turn around and walk to his truck on the driveway. You can't help but to stay right there frozen with your heart going way too fast and an almost shocked expression, watching how he puts the leftovers on the passenger side then gets behind the wheel and drives away; it isn´t until your mom calls your name again that you defroze.

Next chapter

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