#and become close with Javier during your trip

[fresamilkwrites]

COLLIDE ━ Javier Peña [Narcos, 2015]

summary. Javier's profession has been getting in the way of your relationship for far too long, and you two seem to have become passing ships. What's the worst that could happen if you went out drinking with some friends in an attempt to forget about your misfortunes? original request. Ok so, Javi Peña x fem. You've been together a while, during the height of the Escobar case he's always at the office and you're just passing ships. You're feeling a bit down and go to a club with friends. You harmlessly flirt with a stranger all night only to discover you're in a narco hotspot and Javi&Steve are about to raid it. author's note. This is my first requested fic and I'm so excited to finally be posting it! I also chose happiness and ended up starting a narcos rewatch while working on this... someone save me from this addiction (please don't).

[ ❥ ] pairing. javier peña x fem! reader

[ ❥ ] word count. 2.7k

[ ❥ ] genre. angst

[ ❥ ] warnings. No actual use of "Y/N". Angst. Explicit language. Mentions of alcohol and intoxication. Mentions of guns and gun violence. Mild physical abuse if you squint (not ill intentioned, just an accident).

Check on Javi.

You read the sticky note on the fridge, licking a spoon clean of peanut butter after making yourself breakfast. The eternal reminder staring right back at you like it had done for so long now. 

You actually hadn’t for a few days, checked on him that is. It was getting hard to.

Javier’s job was never an easy concept to get around. DEA agent appointed to the highest profile case they ever had on their hands… they had it tough and you were perfectly aware. You basically signed up for this, but after weeks that turned into months of his endless work days, it felt like there was close to no room left for you in his life outside of when he’d randomly show up at your door looking for some stress relief, desperately kissing you without a hello and later leaving almost right after he was done.

And you tried to be supportive, as much as you had it in you to be. It started with dropping off lunch for him every morning at work, that slowly turned into a big coffee jug just a few times a week and now it was only the occasional call. A call you almost dreaded to make, specially since everything you did in an attempt to keep up with him was rarely received the way you wished it to. 

It wasn’t that Javier was trying to be rude or hurt your feelings, you knew that. But he was so stressed… he never managed to pick up the first time you called, and whenever you’d go by his office it was hard to not feel unwelcome when entering his hectic environment, even if he didn’t let you go without a swift and rushed kiss on the lips. A kiss that to you felt like a “thanks, doll. Now go away please, I have things to do.”

A faint, melancholic smile appeared on your lips as you moved through your apartment and fell onto your couch, looking back at how things were before the case got so serious. The summer Javier and you met was like a fever dream… day trips to the beach, constantly waking up together, trying his horrendously strong coffee for the first time, any time he playfully laid his full bodyweight on you, his shooting lessons, going out drinking and dancing even though he has two left feet. 

Then you realized, it’d been forever since you had gone out dancing. Something had to be done about it… you were so caught up with feeling abandoned that the fact there were still enjoyable things to do out there and other people to do them with, went completely unnoticed within the valley of your thoughts. You decided to take some action, and after basically jumping to the phone and dialing every single one of your girlfriends’ numbers, all of you collectively agreed to attend a new cumbia night club downtown that none of you had gone to yet.

By the time the night came, you were ready for your plans. Your hair down, flowing in waves and a tight, beautiful, sequined, one sleeve mini dress perfectly wrapping your figure. You finished the look with some matching heels and jewelry, giving one last look at the mirror before you went right out the door after hearing the familiar honk of one of your friend’s cars. 

The ride to the club was the perfect way to start the night. All the girls looked beautiful, and while catching up, laughs and excitement quickly bubbled up from within their souls. Everyone was getting on the party mood, specially since they knew you wanted to relax and forget about the streak of bad luck your relationship was going trough. They knew well about your relationship with Javi, and while a few of them sometimes mentioned that “you should find someone who can give you the time you deserve,” they still were aware you loved him and stayed supportive of you and your decisions.

Upon arriving to the packed club and getting assigned a table, it was in no time that all of you had bright colored cocktails in your hands. After little observation, it was evident that the place was beautifully decorated, neon lights and mirrors bringing the tropical party vibe. The music was amazing and the energy was immaculate; people drank, laughed and danced around, making it inevitable to easily loosen up and get lost in the celebration spirit. 

Looking around, something caught your eye. A man at the bar watching you with a slight smile and a glass in hand. His dark hair, big nose and mustache immediately reminded you of a certain someone. The mystery man held your gaze, and in return you raised the glass between your fingers towards him. 

He reciprocated the gesture. Cheers!

“I just flirted with some guy!” You screamed over the music after bringing your attention back to the table full of girls. A mix of surprise, excitement and cluelessness spread amongst all of you. “He kinda looks like Javi.”

Some laughs and sarcastic eye rolls this time. Of course he did. “That man lives in your head rent free!” Claudia dropped.

And how could he not?

“He can be Javier tonight. Just have fun!” It was Marina dropping some input this time. “He isn’t here to do anything about it.”

That was true. Besides, it didn’t have to be more than just some innocent fun… feeling the joy and validation of having some stranger’s attention at a club.

“You’re right! You’re right!” A shrug before you downed the rest of your first drink. “It’s not like that’s bad anyways.”

Perhaps it was, you wouldn’t be happy to find out the man you loved and had been with for over a year, was going around town flirting with pretty girls at the bars. 

Did you just call this random stranger pretty? Looks like it. You needed another drink. Fast.

And you did get it, and another one after that, and then you stopped counting… some of them sent as presents by the man sitting at the bar. The effect of the alcohol of course being unforgiving towards you. Suddenly you were a social butterfly, laughing and dancing around along with all your friends who were now in very similar positions, except for the ones that were now flirting and having fun with their newly met, club boyfriends for the night.

After doing a small turn in your place, your body was met with a hand shamelessly being placed on your waist. Suddenly the man from the bar had moved all the way to you, and he seemed to be making himself too comfortable within the bubble of your personal space. “Wanna dance?” He offered and you quickly nodded your head, the alcohol clouding your reflexes as you were simply glad he didn’t straight up ask for a kiss. 

You were now at a point where your head was a blur, you started to feel clumsy. Maybe it was time to go home but everyone else seemed to be having so much fun, you didn’t want to ruin that. 

As you continued to dance around with the man you hadn’t even bothered to put a name on, you started to notice a lot of weird movement around the club. Some people quickly moving from one side of the room to another, some also seemingly leaving with urgency… it felt like things were happening quickly in your surroundings and your foggy brain was barely catching up. 

But as the friendly stranger pulled you closer, the music stopped and the lights were turned on. People complained and looked around in confusion, but trough the door quickly came a swarm of armed men. Either police officers or a cartel, you could only assume considering your understanding of what your eyes were seeing could easily be ambiguous. Without a warning, all hell broke loose; people ran around, screamed, law enforcement tried to control the situation. You desperately wanted to think of something; move, run, hide… but you froze, and didn’t snap out of it until the first gunshot was fired. 

“Fucking hell!” You screamed like many others in the room, absolutely terrified. One of your friends pulled you quickly, almost dragging you under the table. The man you had been dancing with now nowhere to be found. “What the hell is happening,” a terrified murmur left your lips, the shooting continued. 

Serves you well for trying to have fun.

You remained under the table, desperately trying to ignore the situation you were in while the palms of your hands fixed over your ears in an attempt to muffle the noise. At some point the piercing sound of the gunshots ceased, but arguing continued. Other attendees closer to the door seemed to start moving, probably getting evacuated, and suddenly, you felt yourself get pulled from under the table with a firm tug to what you thought was going to be your first time being used as hostage. 

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?” He screamed in your face and you immediately felt yourself get small in your place. The world around you two seemed to be moving erratically, but your eyes were fixed on Javier; the man now holding you harshly from your arm. His fingers digging into your skin, the fear born simply from the thoughts of what could have gone wrong now turned into anger.

Forming a sentence was impossible, not even a peep while a million thoughts and emotions ran trough you, the main one being how he had never yelled at you like that. Javier screamed your name and shook you slightly, but once again he didn’t get a response, causing him to curse and start pulling you towards the exit quickly. Anger and frustration oozing out of him in waves. From what you could see on the way out, the raid was a conjoined effort between the Colombian police and the DEA which now seemed to be under control. Some people were arrested and the evacuation had started. Javier managed to easily avoid the crowds, his hold strong around your wrist while he did this. 

The two of you made it to his car, where he finally stopped dragging you around. The brunette looked at you with a frown, his body towering over you as your back clashed with the door of the vehicle. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, your eyes immediately moving down to the pavement.

“Do you not know all the shit that’s happening with all these fucking narcos right now?” Javier spoke with gritted teeth, his hands now placed on his hips as you looked back up. He was trying to keep his cool, but his efforts were proved to be unsuccessful when he yelled again. “You couldn’t just pick up the damned phone and talk to me instead of running to make stupid decisions?”

“Even if I had tried, it would have taken me five business days to get ahold of you!” Now it was you yelling back, anger bubbling from deep within you, born from all the emotions you had been suppressing for weeks. The alcohol and adrenaline running trough your veins making you react badly to his entitlement. “By then I would have already been killed in—!”

“Don’t you fucking dare say that!” He raised his tone even higher, forcing you to shut up as he moved his hand to your face, pressing his fingers on each side of your jaw so firmly that it hurt. His body now pressed against yours, pushing you against the car.

“It’s the truth, Javier! I never see you anymore, I can barely get you on the phone!” You immediately clapped back, the anger seething trough your teeth before you sighed heavily, tears immediately pooling in your eyes before they spilled like bottled up emotions, streaking down your cheeks until they got your lover’s fingers wet. You closed your eyes, embarrassed. “I’ve missed you so much, I just wanted to have a good night for a change."

Javier’s expression was suddenly painted with confusion, this feeling within him being born from the realization of what he was doing. His harsh hold relaxed before he completely let go of your face, your tears had instantly brought him down to earth. He fucked up, he hurt you in more ways than one and now the way he was acting seemed to be almost as if he was trying to punish you for that too. It crumbled him to see you cry, even more when he knew it was his fault. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” he ran a hand over his face with frustration before he pulled you into his arms. The closeness immediately getting the box you’d locked your feelings inside to open wide, your salty tears immediately forming stains on the fabric of his button up while he held you close, his thick fingers getting lost in the strands of your hair. “For screaming, for hurting you and for making you feel that way.”

“You’re everything,” he said your name softly, you could only sob in the familiar safety of his arms. It was freeing that you finally said how you felt and that he understood, but it didn’t make it any easier to get back to normal. Inside you’d felt like your relationship was beyond saving for weeks, all while being unable to bring yourself to bother him with that conversation. “I can’t lose you.”

Another familiar voice was heard from afar over the noise of the commotion. “Hey, Peña,” it was Steve, but Javier quickly shut him down by making a dismissive gesture with his hand. He realized it was about time he prioritized you over the job, at least this once. It’s not like they needed him when there were over a dozen other officers on the scene. 

Right now he just wanted to be with you. 

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you managed to mumble as you hugged him back, your small hands being softly placed on his back. It was true, that man leaving your life had become your biggest fear the moment you fell for him and it had gotten hard to see that possibility appear to be closer and closer every day.

“You won’t.” Javier dropped without even thinking about it. “That’s not on the table, it’ll never be.”

And you believed him. He was a man that kept his word after all.

You breathe in deeply, calming yourself down. “Can we go home?” There was still many things to go over, and a lot of stuff to put on the table together for the sake of actually seeing a change in your current dynamic, but it felt like you’d had enough for a day. It brought you peace to be with him in that moment, and after the stress you had been submitted to in the past hour, on top of the high alcohol levels in your system, you couldn’t think of anything better than to get in bed and leave any worries for another day.

“Of course, sweetheart.” The brunette let go of the embrace and placed a kiss on the top of your head, moving his hands to clean the leftover tears off your cheeks. “Let me just go find your friends so they know I’m taking you and, uh, sort some shit out. Is that ok?”

With a faint smile on your lips, you nodded calmly. “That’s ok.”

After that, he moved to open the door and help you into the passenger seat of the car. “I won’t be long,” Javier reassured before he left you inside the comfortable warmth of the vehicle, and from there you followed him around with your eyes, watching his moves intently. He quickly found your friends and while they seemed to get into a small argument, mainly because they appeared to be mad at him, he looked like he stayed calm and the issue was quickly settled. After that you saw him walk over to Steve, he seemed to explain the situation to him, and his partner nodded calmly in agreement. 

As he walked back to you, you heard him yelling over the noise, “call me if you need anything!”  To what the blonde replied with a simple, “don’t worry about it!”

Finally, he got into the driver’s seat. Your sight not leaving him for a second.

“Did I mention you look beautiful?”

#kore's fics #kore's writing #kore's fic requests #javier pena #javier peña #javier pena narcos #javier pena imagine #narcos fic #javier pena x you #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x fem!reader #javier pena x y/n #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x y/n #angst #one shot #fanfic #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x y/n #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x female reader #Javier peña x fem!reader #javier pena x ofc #javier peña x ofc

[pagefontanillasy]

Chapter 4: Assimilation

Sara and Ed has been fighting. Wanting to go back to United States. Kids are already in college age. Sara went home for a while during the summer break.

At the party, just in a joint bar across the Embassy, Ed asks Javier and Steve. "WHheres your boss."

"Oh yeah we she's still in the precinct. She said she'll follow. Forgot about that."

"This should be her night. New captain."

Ed leaves his glass takes his jacket. His driver drives him to the station.

Nobody is there but just the light on Paige's desk.

"Lieutenant?" Ed rang.

"Fucking Christ, Heath. Why are you here?"

"You should have been by the bar."

"You should have brought the bar to me."

"I wish Buti was hoping to drag you out of here."

Paige sits in front of her type writer. Computer also running.

"Thanks but I'm not into a partyingmood tonight."

"What mood are you in?"

"Take a guess." She waves a paperwork.

Ed shakes his head.

"That won't go away. Come on, they are waiting."

"It's fine. Uhh-- I have to turn this over before your boys pack up and leave."

Ed breathes, removes his jacket. "Tell me where to start."

"No. No way. Get out of here."

"I don't get why you're sulking here in the dark when you just had a big win and another one coming. I thought you hate losing. Yorue acting like you lost."

"I have this thing, Cherophobia. I don't celebrate. I don't become sudee my in happy mood."

Ed smiles. Opens one for the files. "These are fucking boring."

He slams it on the table.

"You know what, forget about that party. Let's go somewhere. Peninsula. Or to anywhere you like. It's on me."

"Lieutenant, Come on. " he wears his jacket again.

"Well lose your guards first. They're annoying."

"That's--"

"I won't kill you. I can even write a note here."

"okay, I'll tell Tony to scoot off, you will come with me."

"Sure. If you truest me."

Ed smiles and calls below via the phone. At first, Tony hesitates but follows.

He is advised to get a gun in which he hasn't had for a long time.

Paige drives him to a convenient store. "What's this?"

"Hey you said we can go wherever I like."

She gets bottle of gin, soda, and packets of potato chips.

They drove under the bridge where some lovers or some prostitutes hang out. They set out there.

"You come here a lot?"

"No. Sometimes but it became rare. Last time I was here was with my husband. We almost got caught banging inside the car." Paige laughed. Genuinely. Seeing her laugh.

It was oreicousm that Ed laughs along. "I'm sorry. Is houldnt be telling you that."

"I don't mind. My wife used to do that too. We can't afford a hotel and she lives with her parents."

"You're cheap."

"You do it too."

"It's for thrill. We were married."

"How'd he die?"

"Who?"

"Your husband "

"Oh. We were ambushed. They thought it's me."

"It's not your fault."

"That's what I keep saying to myself."

"If you keep guilt tripping yourself you will lose yourself. I lost my brother. He was undercover. He's name is Richard"

They talk and drink.

"Fuck, it's already 3AM."

"I'm not drunk yet. Are they still there?"

"Maybe "

They drove to the bar but it's already empty. They say by the stools anyway. Continued drinking.

They are getting touchy for a bit. But when the sun is starting to shine, they'll have to head home.

"Can you still drive?"

"I swear I can."

"You're too drunk."

"Alright. I'll just check into a hotel. I'm so sleepy now."

Ed hails a cab, then right into the Solaire. He checks her in and they're still inaughing spirits getting inside.

Paige kicked her shoes immediately.

"Thanks." Paige says. "Now of you'll excuse me, I need to get my 8 hours."

"You'll do fine alone?"

"Yes dad." She Snickers.

"Thabks Ed."

"You just called me by my first name."

"Yeah I guess."

"Can I call you Paige."

"That's fair."

"Good night Paige."

"Goodbye Ed "

Ed leans forward. Too close.

"Ed," she grabs his arm. Then his face he leans in he leans forward. Paige locks in his lips, then to his eyes. Icy blue, his eyebrows still thick.

"Don't do something you'll regret."

"Let's find out if it's worth regretting."

Paige closes her eyes and receives Ed's kiss. His lips thin but dry against her moisturized lips. Their lips lock together, noise coherent as they play with their own and each other's saliva. Ed cupped a feel of Paige's padded breasts. Paige released an inviting moan as they march, Ed leading her to the bed. Their kissing goes fast paced, as if they are rushing at something. Ed palpitates as Paige throbs between. They both fell and felt the foam bounce against them. Paige feels stuffy wiith Ed's structured suit weighing on her. She takes off his jacket and Ed gets the hint that it's undressing time. Simultaneously, Paige and Ed unbuttons each other's white shirt revealing their chests. Ed's hairy one and Paige's white lace bra. Ed swims between her neck, as his lower torso digs between her, making her feel his erection that he has been having ever since they started working together. It was just built up, he fought hard against. He has never cheated. Looked at the other and flirted but never laid his hands on anyone until now.

Paige has finished unbuckling his belt and she pulled down her own pants while Ed is busy unfastening her bra. Then as her legs are free from those right jeans, her amorus soft and perky breasts bounces right in front of the American. The nipples, brownish, looking sweet.

"Fuck," Ed whispered under his nostrils, eyes widening and it bounces up and down from Paige's drunken face to her glorious bouncy breasts.

They lock into stares, and Ed kisses her lips and his hands plays with her other breasts. Slicks of saliva runs out from their mouths as their tongues catches each other trying to knot.

While passionately kissing, Paige can't wait to feel the hardened rod digging against her groin. So she touches it over Ed's briefs and smiles in satisfaction realizing how small her hand is.

"Mmmm..." Ed has felt it and moaned.

Their mouths ran free and they stare into each other.

"You're so fucking beautiful Paige," Ed runs out of air. He takes her hand and kisses it. Paige abandons Ed's clothed dick, both palms slams gently over his cheeks.

"Do you like me?" Paige breathlessly asks.

Ed nods and steals a kiss.

"I want you to fuck me, Ed."

Ed smiles and nods. He quickly gets rid of his tighty whites and grabs the thin garter of Paige's lace panties over her waist. The room is lit dark, so he can't see Paige's pussy. But he feels it, touching it and theres only a soft fur, almost nothing. His hand covers her alits as one of his finger goes wayward, running up and down and in between her moist slick. How long has she been wet? He can't help but think that Paige has engineered the night's event.

Ed continues what he is doing, teasing Paige more. She spreads her legs wider, as Ed dips his second finger.

"Uhmmm!" She moans and Ed watches her face wince in pleasure. Closing her eyes. Her hands grab her other Brest and the other holding his arm.

Ed has a quick rundown of her body. Toned, tanned, and titillating. Her breasts grows right like a teenager. Her pussy too.

Ed deepens his finger into her moistness. Sticky and tight as hell.

"Paige," He breathes. "Can you take me?"

Paige tries to reach on his erection that is directing upwards. It's bigger than she thought.

"I want you now~" She moans.

"Tell me if it hurts."

"Just fucking do it!"

Ed's dick hardened than before so he positions himself between her legs, watching her chest rise and fall. Paige spreads her thighs, welcoming Ed's bulky frame. She grabs his body.

Ed touches the head of his dick and rubs it against her folds.

"Oh fuck." She inhales hard. Ed pushes it, and Paige winces.

"Shit~~ ahhh!"

Ed bends down licking her nipples and sucking it. He continues to glide slowly as if distracting Paige's mind. He is aware of his endowment. His weapon can break Paige's strong but delicate body.

Ed reaches her neck again and slowly thrusted.

Paige claws on his arm but she is reminded that the man has a wife so she is careful not to make incriminating evidence of their adultery.

Ed thrusts in and out again going into a normal pace. "Fuck, Paige, your pussy is tight. You're so wet, baby~~oHhHH!"

"Ed~~ oHHhHhH!"

"You take me so well~~ you're going to make me cum."

The thrustung becomes slow, but loving. Ed hugs Paige tightly but as he thrusts faster into and out of her pussy, Ed pushes against the leather head board. While Paige grabs his hard ass pushing the married man into her.

Wordless moans comes out of them, their breath racing untile they both find a desirable spot.

"Ed, oh yeahhh~~~ aHHHhH~ that's it! Take me~~ oHHhH!"

"Paige, I'm about to cum "

"Ohhh~~ Ed, shit you're so big --aHHhHH!" Paige almost can hit the head board but Ed protects her head.

For one last time before Ed thrusts hard he feeds on Paige's breatss again.

Ed thrusts hard, Paige eyes rolls up feeling the reel of an oncoming wave of orgasm. As he continues to fuck her tight wet pussy, Ed brinfs her to a new height, to bours of pleasurable excess.

"Ed, I'm -~~~ AhHhH!"

"I know baby~~uHHHh!"

"

Paige ca. Feel his dick about the burst but drunk and horny as she was, she won't let him scatrer his seeds inside.

"Don't shoot it inside~~ uhhh!"

Ed nods, a few pumps and in great timing, just a split second of pleasure, he pulls out fast, faster than he can pull out a gun. Held inbus hand, a moist palpitating organs as he jerks with his hand an explodes over Paige's stomach. Paige takes it with his hand and does it. While Ed presses her pussy and fingers her again and she cum for the second time.

The race is over. Ed collapses beside Paige. It's already 6 in the morning, and the sun has set it's course. Paige rises abandoning the man who fucked her whom she learned to hate since day 1.

After cleaning up herself, she watches Ed snore, bare on his back. Dried of his sweat. Although the sex is great, she realizes she had sex with a married man. But the truth is, she has always been sleeping with married man because she isnt serous with hem. Its easier, they won't chase her down, or pin her down. Theyll be careful not to impregnate her. And it's easy to discard them afterwards.

The whole squad thinks she's just career focused with no time for love. Which is true but she's a woman too. She's a vessel of desires. She lusts too.

But her mistake this time is sleeping with someone that is her colleague or in the same business as her.

Paige got out of there in a swift. She paid for the room and ran off.

[ophiuchus-interactive]

Kekeke, I'm feeling absolutely devious today! How would the ROs react to being mistaken as a couple (RO x MC) during the crushing stage?

I love devious asks. Under the cut, dear <3

Valerian would trip over his words, his polite upbringing taking over and his accent- though something he naturally doesn't care to hide- would be tipped into overdrive. You could hardly understand a word the man is saying through his, "Oh, no, me and- they're not- I'm- not that'd I'd not want to, but-"

You'd have to explain it politely or just drag him away, an apologetic look on your face- or maybe you enjoy watching him stutter and blush when talking about you?

Peter takes things in stride, as any child of a prominent family would. His eyes would flicker over to you and he'd laugh, politely shaking his head before saying, "They're dear to me, is all," and leave it at that- the ball is in your court, of course, as to how you're supposed to take his reply.

Rosalie is a lot like Valerian, only she'd giggle nonstop to the point where if you were thin-skinned, you could take offense. She doesn't mean to giggle at the idea- not at all, she's rather taken with you, being her first real romantic attraction and all- but her brain short-circuited at the thought of being referred to as that; as having her little daydream become a reality.

Ophelia would correct them, and then point out that assuming someone's relationship status is an asshole thing to do, and promptly make the entire encounter incredibly awkward and stressful. She wants clear boundaries; yes and no, right and wrong, this "maybe" or "what if" stuff is starting to make her head spin- which is precisely why when it comes to you, she ends up frustrated, unable to explain to even herself why she feels about you the way she does.

Javier would be smooth about it, giving a laugh and an answer that'd satisfy whomever asked, though after the encounter he'd seem rather conflicted, withdrawn. He'd shrug it off, but you're close enough to him to tell that there was something in that question that bothered him. You wonder why.

Sergio has to stop himself before turning the question back on the random person, his tongue nearly unable to stop the insults from flying- he manages, however, for your sake. He simply coughs and turns his head toward you, expecting you to answer the question about being a couple in the quickest way possible. He tries to ignore the sting that goes along with denying how red his cheeks are, and how much his heart aches.

Thane wouldn't say anything, instead carrying on the conversation or ignoring the question entirely. He doesn't have the time to correct anyone, and it seems rude and personal to give in and point out your status with him anyway; maybe he does see you in a romantic light, but it's never been spoken about, and it may never be. He'll just let it be.

Hope would be puzzled, wondering if all that it took to be a couple in a relationship was just proximity or how well one person gets along with the other; it would confuse them to the point of silence, in which case you'd have to politely (or impolitely, depending on your mood) explain that it's simply not true. This would merely further their confusion, and cause their heart to hurt, though they've no clue as to why.

Hawkeye would be like Thane, rolling with the assumption or question as opposed to fighting back against it. They wouldn't be with you if they didn't think you were, at the very least in Hawkeye's own eyes, fuckable, so take such information how you will. Maybe something more would come of it, maybe not, why worry your pretty little head about it, hm?

#ros asks #slight angst #anon asks

[kimnjss]

desperate housewife | jjk

⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader (ft. taehyung) ⇢ genre: smut. ⇢ word count: 5.5K ⇢ theme: husband!jungkook, housewife au, established relationship ⇢ rating: explicit. ⇢ warnings: soft angry guk, car sex, nipple play, unprotected sex (stay safe loves!)… this was lowkey kind softcore, ngl.  ⇢ summary: bored with your husband gone all the time, you decide to take up a new hobby... jungkook can only seem to focus on one thing when it comes to your new pastime. ⇢ A/N: this was heavily influenced by desperate housewives, okay. ive been binging it during quarantine nd kind of spit this out lmao. also!! want to apologize if this feels all over the place, kept on stopping nd starting again... so yeah!

The day your husband proposed, he gave you his word that you'd never have to lift a finger once you were married to him. His faith in his career and talents fueling his proclamation. You would've said yes even without it, but it was nice how badly he wanted to treat you like a princess.

You and Jungkook had been together for two years before he decided to get down on one knee. He made it known that he thought you were the one from the beginning and you had always thought, it was soon to tell- but he was right.

Your agreement was no short of immediate, wedding date set for an exact year after that day and you couldn't wait. Jungkook was oddly helpful with the planning and organization, way more than you'd expect a husband to be, but he was genuinely interested.

With his help, you two pulled off a gorgeous ceremony. His family and yours filling the place, watching as you agreed to become one with this man. It was all you wanted. Becoming Mrs. Jeon Jungkook was the best day of your life. Three days after your honeymoon in Malta, Jungkook was urging you to quit your job.

You did.

Jungkook was serious about keeping his word, didn't plan for you to lift a finger at all. A maid was hired to do the cleaning, chef to do the cooking, a yard boy to tend to your pool and pretty garden. You even had a personal driver to drive the car he had purchased for you.

Not once did you think of complaining. It was nice. Not having to worry about this or that or the other thing. Having everything done for you really freed up time for you to do the things that you really liked to do. The only problem was, you've been busy working your whole life you never really had the chance to figure out exactly what that was.

And it wasn't like you could hang out with the husband you loved so much, he hardly had time to cut his hair, let alone hang out with you. So you spent your days at home, chatting with the members of your staff and counting down to the days that Jungkook was able to come home.

It wasn't until you caught yourself in a heated argument with the yard boy about the exact inch length of your front lawn did the realization hit you. You needed a hobby. Shopping, getting your hair and nails done, that wasn't going to cut it. You needed something that was just for you.

You just needed to figure out what that was.

Sat on the couch with your feet propped on an ottoman, you flipped through your catalog. Sulin, the maid, stood across from you, wiping the windows down with glass cleaner. The sound of a car door slam had your fingers stilling, your body perking as your attention was brought to the large window in your living room.

“Mr. Jeon is home,” Sulin informed you, but you were already standing; all but running out the front door. Jungkook was waving goodbye to the man who had dropped him off, hands clutching his way too large suitcase. “Baby!” You squealed, not being able to contain yourself as you leaped for him.

Your husband and his ever so impressive reflexes were catching you easily, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist as he leaned up for a starved kiss. His hands were properly placed on your sculpted bottom, slowly inching up to grip the flesh. A squeal flew from your lips as you pulled back, playfully swatting at his shoulder.

“Do you really think the Jefferson's want an eye full of you groping your wife on the front lawn?” You questioned with a raised brow. Jungkook shrugged his strong shoulders, tilting his head up to reach for your lips again.

“The Jefferson's have been married 30 years, have six kids, I think they know a thing or two about groping.” You pushed the thought of your ancient neighbors going at it, instead deciding to concentrate on the cute dimples indenting your husband's cheeks as he flashed a boyish grin. Not only was this man blessed with deadly good looks, but he also had the heart and spirit of a young child. Things never got boring with him around.

Your hands cradled his face, leaning down the rest of the way to press your lips to his again. “I've missed you so much.” Your words are barely comprehensible, considering your mouth is smushed against his. Somehow, he understands you totally, sharing your sentiment with a wide grin.

His hands finding your ass again, Jungkook holds you to him as he begins taking long steps toward your house. You could feel his length against your thigh with each step he took and you knew exactly what you were in for once you reached the bedroom. Or maybe the kitchen. Hell, he might even give up on the front porch and do it there.

Yeah, things never got boring with Jungkook around.

An entire week had passed since Jungkook came back home. A whole week filled with laughter, games, impromptu trips, spontaneous dates. A full week of fun with the man of your dreams. Every waking moment was spent together, genuinely enjoying each other that you forgot he would be leaving come Sunday.

This is why you wore a permanent scowl on your face as you neatly folded his clothes, taking on the task to pack his suitcase. Sulin had been doing it when you entered the bedroom, but for some odd reason, you felt like you wanted to. She was more than happy to pass the task on to you, moving to get dinner started.

Since it was Jungkook's last day in the house, Sulin had suggested she made all of his favorite foods for dinner tonight. No protests on your husband's side, of course, and you figured your waistline could suffer if it meant witnessing that huge bunny smile that took over his features.

Warm arms wrapped around your waist, chiseled chin nuzzling into the crook of your neck. Jungkook pulled you into his embrace, taking in the sweet smell of the perfume you prayed whenever you got out the shower. “How's my princess doing?” His tone was soft and caring.

Jungkook knew that you were upset that he was leaving. But he also knew that you weren't upset with him. Couldn't be upset with him because you knew what you were in for from the beginning. It just annoyed you that his job always cut into the time that the two of you got to spend together. He was hardly ever home, never really unpacked when he was home because it was just a matter of time until he was leaving again.

It was like your house was just a rest stop and that annoyed you, passionately. You didn't want to make him feel bad, though. You knew he was trying his best; could tell with how he fought sleep when he was back just so he could spend time with you. It was hard on him too, so there was no reason to make a stink out of it.

You pulled his suitcase closed, zipping it before turning in his arms. Your scowl had morphed into a pout, arms wrapping around his neck. Lifting up on your tiptoes, you pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. “I'm okay. What time is your flight?” You wanted to know just how much time you had left with him.

“Javier will pick me up right after dinner.” Guess you only had a few more hours left with him then. A sigh slipped from his lips, his hands cupping your face and thumb brushing over your cheek. “I won't be gone long this time. Just a week or two and then I have a month off,” He offered up with a grin and you matched it, nodding your head.

“Can we visit that resort when you get back, then?” You looked up at him hopeful, his head was nodding not even giving a moment to think of the request. “Whatever you want. Just put it on the schedule. A whole month, I'm all yours.”

It was like time was on a treadmill whenever you were with him. Before you knew it, dinner was being served and the two of you sat across each other at your way too big dining table. “You know,” He was speaking after some time had passed without either of you saying a word.

You were playing with your food, eating in slow motion as if that would keep time from moving so he wouldn't have to leave just yet. Head lifting at the sound of his words, you tilted your head to the side. “Sammie Fields and a couple of her girlfriends all take dance lessons at the gym across town.”

Face contorted, you tried to figure out why he was offering up this information all of a sudden. “Alright, you got me. Why are you telling me this?” You pushed out a laugh, hoping not to sound too harsh. You just wanted to enjoy your silent dinner before he was being whisked away.

“Maybe you should join them sometime?”

“Is this your way of telling me that I need to start working out? Believe it or not, Jeon Jungkook I'm in-” He was quick to cut you off, quick denying shakes of his hands as he leaned toward you. “No! No, it's nothing like that. I just... you said that you were bored,” Your cheeks darkened, had forgotten that you had shared that with him while catching him up on everything that had been happening while he was gone.

“Oh, yeah. Right. Sorry.” You smiled sheepishly and he shook his head. “I don't really get along with Sammie and her friends. Don't think they'd really care for me tagging along.” It was no secret that the girls on the block weren't all too fond of you. You weren't sure why, but they didn't really seem interested in being your friend – had their little clique made before you even moved in.

And they weren't taking any newbies anytime soon.

“Ugh, I wish you could just come with me. I hate that you're stuck in the house bored all the time.” It had been suggested and shut down when you two first got married. Jungkook didn't really want to travel without you with your marriage so new, so he came up with the idea that you just came along with him.

His manager was quick to veto his proposal, deeming you an unnecessary distraction – the asshole. “I'll be fine, don't worry about me.” You pushed a smile onto your face, but he didn't look convinced; cut into his pork with a quizzical look on his face. His teeth worried his lower lip and you could almost literally see the wheels turning in his head.

“Or! You know what, I could take up tennis?” You suggested, with a grin. “Tennis? Since when were you into tennis?” A shrug of your shoulder was sent in his direction as you reached forward to grasp your wine glass, bringing it to your lips. “It's never too late to learn,” He nodded.

“Are you sure you're going to like it? I mean... not to discourage you, but baby, I've not even seen you pick up a ball. Well, besides...” From the smirk on his face, you knew exactly what he was alluding to. You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the smile that tried to peek through.

“It could be fun,”

You could tell that he was happier now, at ease knowing that you weren't just going to sit around watching grass grow as you waited for him to come back. “Alright, then! I'll get you the best trainer there is. Let me just...” His hand reached for his phone on the table, your hand quick to stop him.

“You don't have to do that, baby. I'm sure there are plenty of good enough trainers at the gym. Cheaper too.” Although you loved being pampered and spoiled by him, you didn't marry him because he was stinking rich.

You married him because you were madly, deeply, truly in love with him- so there was no need for him to hire 'the best' anything for your new hobby.

“I guess if you're sure.”

“I'm sure. I'll head to the gym tomorrow and meet someone,” He nodded, attention being drawn back to the meal in front of him. Finally being able to enjoy his favorite food without worry creasing his brows.

Two days after Jungkook had left, you were dragging yourself out of bed and heading straight to the gym. You were excited, always had liked tennis and the whole idea of it; you figured it would be fun to actually play it.

Finding a trainer was a lot easier than you had thought it would be. After a brief conversation with the lady at the front desk, she was leading you down a long corridor into a sectioned off area of the gym. More elaborate work out machines were back here, a large TV and a sauna.

“Mr. Kim.” She called to the man running on the treadmill. A fitting long-sleeved top hugged his muscles, loose shorts bouncing with each movement of his strong legs. The woman called out to him once more before he was pulling the headphone from his ear, pressing a few buttons on the machine to slow his steps into a walk.

“What's up?” He replied, a bit out of breath.

“This is Mrs. Jeon,” She introduced you formerly, despite how you insisted she uses your first name. The man cocked a brow, sparing a sideways glance in your direction. Undeniably handsome, a face appears to be carefully structured by the gods. A strong jaw, pink full lips, cheekbones, nose a little large but fitting for his handsome face, dark intense eyes guarded by long eyelashes. Even his eyebrows were pretty, what the fuck?

The man pushed a long finger against the machine in front of him, stopping it completely. “She's in looking for a tennis trainer. I figured you would be fit for it.” He was hopping off of the machine, turning to face the two of you fully.

“Have you ever played before?” His words were directed to you, but you were distracted by the deepness of his voice. Did he really sound like that... all the time? How intimidating. His head tilted, awaiting your answer.

You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks, desperately trying to rake your brain from what he had just said. “Oh!” You spoke a little too loudly. “Not really, no. I've just always wanted to...” The intense way he was staring at you had your sentence trailing off.

He didn't speak, eyes scanning over you carefully; making you feel small. Even the girl that brought you here sensed the odd tension, shifting uncomfortably on the balls of her feet. His tongue pushed out to lick his dry lips, a smirk taking over his features as he dragged his gaze back up to your eyes. What you would give to know what was going through his mind just then.

“It'd be my pleasure,” His voice velvety sweet with some promised laced in his words. You grinned, taking hold of the hand that he had extended out to you. “I'm Taehyung.” He introduced himself with a small smile.

Taehyung nodded at the sound of your name, going to release your hand from his grasp just as the piece of jewelry wrapped around your fourth finger caught his attention. Mindlessly, his fingers brushed it, his eyes finding yours once again.

There was something going on in his mind, you knew it. Could tell by the furrow of his brow and the smirk on his face. You just couldn't decipher what it was. His hand was dropping yours, slipping into the pocket of his pants.

“Lynn will set you up with my schedule. See you soon, Yn.” Taehyung flashed that teasing smile before tucking his earphone back in and climbing back onto the machine. Lynn led you out the same way you first came, stopping at the front desk to schedule you.

No matter how hard you tried to concentrate on the words coming out of her mouth, you couldn't shake the thought of Taehyung from your mind. It was weird. Sure, you've been swooned by attractive guys before, you were married; not blind. But this was different, he was different.

You didn't know what it was and you were scared to find out. There was no point in either way. These were just tennis lessons. Nothing more, nothing less. You were married so that was it. Halfway home, you wondered if you should turn around and demand a different trainer. Decided against it, surely nothing will happen..., right?

Two weeks had passed since Taehyung had become your personal trainer. It was fun, learning the sport and getting to know the mysterious man that paid so much attention to your skills. He had this set narrative of what you were capable of and never accepted less, always pushing you and oddly you liked it.

Your game was getting better as the days rolled by. Time no longer standing still with this new hobby of yours. You two met every day at 3 o'clock, most lessons lasting for an hour... maybe two if he wasn't busy, three if he got hungry in the middle. It was fun and you were quickly feeling as though you could think of the man as a friend.

The tension that surrounded you two when the first meeting had died down. You weren't interested, no matter how many smirks he threw in your direction. Jungkook was the love of your life and messing that up was at the bottom of your list. It wasn't even on your list. Taehyung got the hint without you having to spell it out for him. You appreciated that.

A gentle hand on the small of your back stilled your movements, your head turning to face the handsome man standing behind you. “You need to straighten your back,” His deep voice instructed and you nodded your head, following his orders.

He smiled, hand leaving your back to grasp your elbow- the other hand reaching for your wrist. “Tuck your core in when you swing, gives you more power.” The hand on his elbow dropped, splayed fingers landing over your belly button. You brought your arms back, tucking your core in and going for the swing.

You could feel the difference. “Oh! I didn't think it would-”

“What the fuck do you think you're doing?” Your sentence was being interrupted by the booming voice of your husband. His face twisted with anger as he approached the two of you. “Get your hands off my wife!” He shouted, the words making Taehyung release you, jumping back a few steps.

“Jungkook? You're back early.” It was the only thing you could muster in your shock. Never had you seen him this angry before. His hand wrapped around your wrist, tugging you behind him as he stood square in front of Taehyung.

He sized him up, jaw clenched and fists balled. “Who do you think you are? Touching her like that?” Despite having the big muscle pig that was your husband in his face, Taehyung didn't seem the least bit intimidated. Arms crossed over his chest as he stared up at Jungkook, bored.

Sensing this could take a turn for the worse, you decided to step in. “Jungkook, baby. Relax. He's my trainer!” Jungkook only half-listened to your words, squaring his chest as he stepped closer to Taehyung.

“Does your trainer know that you're happily married?” His words were delivered through clenched teeth to the man standing in front of him. Taehyung was rolling his eyes, hands patting at your husband's shoulders.

“I suggest you calm down there, buddy. I can have you kicked out and your wife banned with a snap of my fingers.” He wouldn't do that right? Ban you? You two were friends, he was just saying that?

You didn't want to be the one to call his bluff. Hands finding Jungkook's elbow, you tugged him toward you. “Let's just go, baby.” He scoffed, tugging his hand from your grasp before turning and passing you, stomping up the hill.

You quickly followed behind him, legs moving quickly in fear he might leave without you. He had stopped in front of his car, hands in his pocket. You landed a soothing hand to his back. “Baby, I promise you. Nothing like that was happening. He was just helping me with my form!”

His hand pulled out from his pocket, your big, expensive wedding ring between his fingers. “Why aren't you wearing your ring?”

“Oh.” You could feel your cheeks darkening, embarrassed as if you had been caught. But you hadn't! You just knew what he was thinking and how all of this looked. You reached your hand forward, taking the jewelry from his hand. “I only take it off for training, I didn't want it to fly off.” You tell him, and it's the truth.

He doesn't believe you, rolling his eyes right in your face. “Yeah, fucking right and you just so happened to get paired with the young attractive trainer, rather than someone who is actually qualified.”

“It's not like that! Don't you trust me?” Wedding ring secured back on your fingers, you reached up to cup his face in your hands. You offered a soft smile up at him, thumbs stroking his clenched jaw. “I would never do something like that, baby.”

Scowl not falling, but an arm wrapping around your waist; you could tell he was softening. “It's not you, I don't trust.” He grumbled and you nodded in understanding, standing up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips.

“I know, baby. You'd be the first to know if he tried anything,” Your words are murmured against his lips. The grasp he holds on your waist tightening as he pulls your body tighter against his. You feel his grasp dropping from your hips to your thighs until he's lifting your body off of the ground; easily wrapping your legs around his waist.

Your back is being pushed against the cool exterior of his car, his body pressed tight against yours as his kiss gains intensity. His mouth desperately searching yours as if trying to imprint himself on you. His hand slid underneath the bottom of your tank top, smirking at the realization of your lack of bra.

Jungkook was breaking the kiss, leaving your lips yearning for more of him. Dark eyes stared into yours, heavy breaths leaving his lips as his thumb caresses your hardening nipple. “I can't fucking believe you.” He snarled, fingers pinching at your nipple; making you yelp.

He didn't even allow you a moment to reply, lips crashing against yours with much greed, hunger as his hips pushed up into yours. You could feel how hard he was even through the fabric of his jeans and you wondered if he'd fuck you right here... against his car where anyone could walk by and see you.

The thought had a rush of arousal pooling between your legs. You leaned into his kiss, returning everything that he was giving you. Jungkook's kisses were everything he was; sweet, passionate, determined, horny. His hands dropped from your body, grasping the behind you as his tongue pushed further into your mouth.

With unbelievable swiftness, Jungkook was pulling the car door open, lifting your body off of the car and laying you across the back seat. Reluctantly, he broke the kiss to climb onto you, trapping your body between his strong thighs.

You slid your hands up the front of his shirt, the rapid beating of his heart surprising you. He still wore that scowl on his face and you frowned. “I love you, Kookie. You know that, right?” You offered a sweet smile up at him, which he only nodded to. His hands hastily pulled your shirt up and over your head.

His face was buried in your neck, attacking your slightly sweaty skin with his lips and teeth. Big hands grasped your breasts, teasing them. Hearing the whimpers, the moans that his touches caused did wonders for Jungkook's ego. He loved knowing that he was the only one that could get you like this, see you like this. Fuck that Taehyung guy, you were his and he was more than willing to prove it to you.

He couldn't help the primal instinct to cover your body in his marking to make it completely and utterly clear that you belonged to him. Quickly, his hands were dropping and rounding your body to grasp your ass; using his grip to pull your body against his. At that exact moment, he was sinking his teeth into the skin just above your collarbone, sucking harshly on the spot right after.

“Fuck, Jungkook!” He loved the sound of your sweet moans. Loved it even more that it was his name falling from those pretty lips. Jungkook rolled his hips forward, grinding his hard and growing erection against your scarcely covered pussy. Such a tiny useless skirt, did you really think he'd have nothing to say about you prancing around in this?

Your shaky hands found the dark curls of his hair, tugging at the roots as his lips dragged their way down your chest. You were already so needy for him, back arching in an attempt to push your breasts closer to his lips, hoping he'd take the hint. He did. A breath of relief fell from your lips as his mouth finally wrapped around one of your hardened buds, wet tongue drawing circles around it, pulling desperate moans from your lips.

He was pulling back with a hiss, teeth sinking into the flesh of your tit, making you yelp. His gentle tongue soothed the skin, dark eyes peaking up to admire your lust-filled, half-lidded eyes. A gentle kiss pressed against the marked skin, “You're so pretty like this.” He grinned.

Jungkook reached his hand down to still the grind of your hips that had started without your knowledge, he pinned you against the leather seats and you whimpered. “What is it that you want, baby?” Fuck, his voice. It wasn't often that Jungkook took on a dominant role, sort of liked to go with the flow. But right now, the way he was looking at you, handling you, hand an unfamiliar twist building in your stomach.

There was no way you'd be able to keep your composure if he kept on like this. “I need you, Kookie. I need to feel you.” Never did you think he'd be down for car sex, but you weren't opposed to the idea; not one bit. With that, though, you knew that you had to be quick; there was no telling who could come rushing down the hill. Which meant foreplay wasn't really in the cards for you two right now.

Jungkook was quick with leaning back on his knees, tugging at the buckle of his belt until it came undone. He only pushed his jeans down enough to pull his cock out. No matter how many times you saw it, you always seemed to find yourself mesmerized by Jungkook's cock.

It was no surprise that it'd be long, Jungkook was a big guy and it was only fitting that he'd have a big dick. Rested nicely just inches below his belly button. It was thick too, pretty veins wrapping around the length and a pink tip that had your mouth watering and pussy clenching.

Jungkook watched you expectantly, a subtle smirk on his lips. He had definitely caught you ogling. It took you a moment to figure out why he was looking at you, but you were quick to catch on, lifting your hips to wiggle out of your tiny skirt. “Fuck, baby.” He breathed, eyes fixed on the way your panties clung to your damp lips. You felt your cheeks darkening.

He never had to do much to get you like this. A giggle left your lips, “You're the only one that makes me like this.” You reminded, hands reaching up to reach for his shoulders as you pulled his body down onto yours. The smile that took over his features didn't go unnoticed. His hand was fitting itself between your legs, long fingers rubbing at your folds gently.

Freehand lining the thickness of his head up with your center, and sliding all the way in with one powerful thrust. You let out a loud cry, caught off guard although you expected the intrusion. Gentle lips pressed wet kisses against your skin, allowing you the time you needed to adjust to his large size.

It didn't take long for you to get used to him being this deep inside you. Yeah, he's been gone for weeks, but your body had grown accustomed to him, always recognizing his return. Just a single roll of your hips was enough to get him to fuck forward, the breath he had been holding being let out.

He was quickly losing himself in you, forgetting if he had ever been mad in the first place. It was like he wanted to make sure you felt every last inch of him. Gradually, he was speeding up the movements of his hips, tickling the sweet spots buried deep inside of you before full-blown pounding against them.

Each thrust hit right where you needed him to, high, needy moans fell from your lips. Calls of his name as your nails dug into his back. You could feel yourself climbing higher and higher toward your release. Jungkook's hand grasped tightly on your thigh, lifting your leg to reach deeper inside of you. He was panting, sending you praise, reminding you that you were his.

Nothing else seemed to matter at this moment. Not the fact that you could be caught at any moment, the uncomfortable bend laying in the back seat of his car caused, Taehyung; it was just you two. “Kookie, I'm gonna...” You tried to tell him, the pleasure making its way into your veins and spiking through your body; cutting your sentence short.

He understood you completely, though. “Shh, I got you, baby.” He rasped, eyes finding yours in the cloudy haze of pleasure the two of you had created. He loved to see you like this, fucked out and desperate for him. His hand was sliding between your legs to find your sensitive clit, using his fingers to push you over the edge.

Nails dragged down his strong back, as you clenched down around him. With one final call of his name, you were falling apart, hips bucking and head falling back. The sight of you unraveling, was enough to push Jungkook over the edge. His head ducked into the crook of your neck, teeth, and tongue finding your salty skin. He pounded his hips powerfully into you until his body was stilling.

A drawn-out moan left your lips at the feeling of his thick release coating your pulsing walls. Warmth spread throughout your body as you began to relax under him, breath heaving as your body laid limp against Italian leather.

“Fuck,” Jungkook breathed out a laugh, eyes dropping to watch his dick slip from inside of you. The mixture of your release dripped out of you and he watched, amazed. “You're my perfect girl.” He complimented with a wide smile, droopy eyes lifting to find your smiling face. “I can't believe we just-”

His words were being cut off by a sharp knock against the window just above your head. Your body sprung up, arms wrapping around your body to cover your bare chest. Wide eyes landing on an annoyed-looking Taehyung.

“You can't do that here!” He called through the glass. Jungkook was smirking, reaching for the door to roll down the window. You stopped him, only being able to imagine what type of snarky remark he was about to spew.

“We're leaving!” You called back, officially kissing your weekly tennis lessons goodbye when you saw the scowl on the older male's face. He turned with a roll of his eyes, stalking his way back up the hill. “He's an asshole,” Jungkook noted and you laughed, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“Just take me home, want you to fuck me properly.” He perked up at the sound of that, hands quick to adjust his jeans before he was climbing into the front seat. “You lay comfy, I'll have you home in no time.” He grinned, quick with turning the keys in the ignition.

God, you loved this man. With every fiber of your being, you loved him. He was perfect for you and you could never imagine yourself with anyone else. You were sure he felt the same, making sure that you knew it every single day. The time apart only made your heart grow fonder, made every day with him that much more special.

You wouldn't change a thing.

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[deadinside-butstill-horny]

The Night We Met

Part One - The Night We Met

Pairing: Javier Peña/ Female Murphy!Reader

Words: 5.3k

Summary: Murphy's sister travels to Colombia after realising Steve might not quite be A-Okay and meets the Javier Peña.

Content Warnings: 18+ Smut-ish (I wouldn’t wanna read it out to my mom), dry humping, dirty talk in Spanish which reader doesn’t understand so does it really count?, gratuitous love of the black shirt from the torture scene.

AO3

MASTERLIST

Author Note: So here is my return to writing! The word count got away from me but I loved every second of it. Always after prompts, so drop me a message on here if you'd like to see anything in particular. If it's in my wheelhouse, you'll definitely see it.  

Pedro in the black shirt in this scene is what inspired me to write this, I can’t lie. 

If you were brutally honest with yourself, this spur of the moment decision may have been a mistake. 

Other people could make these choices and not have that nagging feeling in their gut from the second they booked their fuckin' airline ticket. You had attempted to grab life by its metaphorical horns and go and sort this shit show out by yourself, but after your momentarial bravery was used up, all that was left was a crippling anxiety that threatened to send you into a full scale panic attack if you thought too hard about the fact you were following your big brother to Colombia.

Yes, Colombia. You, a U.S. national with no particular interest in hunting Pablo Escobar, had decided to vacation in sunny, crime ridden Bogotá on a whim. 

You were fuckin’ dumb. 

Sarcasm aside, you weren’t actually here on vacation, you were going to check on Stevie. Your brother, one of the DEA agents assigned with taking down Escobar. 

You’d been worried about him for a few months, it had sounded like he was dealing with heavy shit in South America, you knew that was the job, but he was still your brother.

His calls had gotten less and less frequent until he stopped returning them all together and the only reason you knew he was alive were your pep-talks with your sister-in-law, trying to help her keep her shit together, but hell, you weren’t a therapist or a miracle worker. So when Connie rang asking to stay at your place you had obliged and she had returned to Miami a mere shell of her former self. 

After a mammoth amount of prodding over the course of two days you managed to wring the truth out of her, not the nuggets of information she had given you over the phone in hushed whispers during her time in Colombia but the whole messy story; the communist Elisa Alvarez, Steve’s kidnapping and the cold edges your brother was developing. 

It was all you could do not to book the tickets there and then, but you held out and supported Connie in the ways Steve couldn't have, taking care of Olivia when you could and just trying your hardest to be there for her. Your presence alone seemed to be enough to help her through the days that followed.  A week and a half after her return, you booked your flight to Colombia in secret. 

You had to check on Steve. 

He hadn’t answered a single one of your many many calls. You packed light and told Connie the morning of, and whilst she didn’t like it, she understood. You supposed that a part of her was relieved to know her husband would have someone in Colombia that wasn't there to kill him. 

So here you sat, two hours into your flight to the paradise destination; Bogotá. Your brother's address scrawled on a scrap piece of paper in the one hand and a glass of cheap whiskey in the other.  The alcohol did little to to calm your nerves, this was a dangerous place for a cop, let alone a fuckin’ clueless civilian. 

When the plane finally touched down, you stood from your seat emptying the last few drops of whiskey which had tried to evade you onto your tongue, you picked up your backpack and queued to leave the plane.

The second you left the aircraft the humidity hit you like a brick wall, it was like all of the fresh air had been sucked out of the atmosphere. On a normal evening you would appreciate such a warm climate, but now the heat meant frustration to your tired brain and it only added to your baseline levels of anxiety as your hairline and upper lip were drenched as you walked through the arrivals gate.

Cards on the table; you didn’t have much of a game plan, you spoke no Spanish and stuck out like a sore thumb. You had the address but no means to get there, you didn’t relish the idea of getting in a taxi as a woman alone in a foreign country, but with little to no other options you went to hail one of the cabs that sat outside the airport.

Your fears turned out to be for naught, well not quite naught as the man had raked his eyes across your body for a large percentage of the trip in his mirror, but he had the good grace not to kidnap or murder you, which for you meant it was a successful journey, how low you had set the bar was just occuring to you.

After paying the gentleman he dropped you outside what appeared to Steve’s apartment building. You take a moment on the pavement to recollect yourself ready for your reunion. Peeling your denim jacket off, you decide instead to wrap it around your waist, tying the sleeves securely. With a harumph, you grab the handle of your suitcase, and drag it behind you. Your success thus far gives you a second wind of determination.

Though apparently dumb luck can only get you so far, because after heaving your suitcase up a flight of stairs and rapping on the door of apartment 20 until your knuckles ached, it began to dawn on you, you had no clue if this was even the right building.

“Fuck.” you mutter to yourself, you should’ve rang Connie or tried Steve again when you landed, but you’d been so single minded in carrying out your plan all common sense had apparently abandoned you. So with a million different scenarios of things you could’ve done better playing out behind your eyes you dragged your suitcase to the small lobby of the building, where the front door stood.

You huffed and dropped onto the bottom step in surrender, not quite sure where to go from here. 

Weeks of anxiety and worry finally took their toll on your body as reality set in, and as it did so you couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer stupidity of the situation you’d put yourself in. A light chuckle escaped your body as you held your face in your hands,you rubbed at your eyes as a way of refreshing yourself before sighing and leaning back.

You must have sat with your head in your hands for around three hours before anyone of note arrived, you had received strange looks from residents in their comings and goings as they stepped around you, your expectant looks turned to disappointment when you realised they weren’t Steve. In fairness, you, a gringa sitting on the stairs at 2am, most likely wasn’t a daily occurrence to these homeowners.

By the time he came through the door, your eyes were closed and your head was leant on the bannister, trying to get what little rest you could. Your eyes opened a crack to see a man and a woman enter the building and turn right, the man had his arm around her as he stared at you in confusion, the look was so quick you may have missed it if you blinked, but they were talking in low whispers of Spanish and from the looks of things he didn’t give you a second thought. 

So you extended him the same courtesy and shut your eyes once again, you heard the metal jangling of keys going into the lock, the sound of smacking lips and then the door was closed. You figured that was the end of it, instead you heard hurried footsteps coming towards you, your eyes shot open as he rounded the corner.

“Estás bien?” The man questioned. It took you a moment to realise he was talking to you, as you took him in you were struck by your stupidity, how could you have dismissed this man so quickly even in the throes of a mental breakdown. His chocolate brown eyes bore into your own as you realised he was waiting for a response. 

“Uh… no hablo... español?” you pretty much asked him, cringing internally at your butchering of the most basic sentence of this gorgeous strangers language, his lips quirked at your mumbles making his mustache raise on one side with his smirk. Now, you’d never been a fan of a mustache, Steve and your father had both taken to styling their facial hair in such a way, and as a rule of thumb they were a big no-no. But my god. This man made that mustache his bitch and that bitch worked for him.

“You’re American?” He questions, smirk dropping along with his eyebrows in confusion as his brain processes the information.

“Oh thank god and Jesus fuckin’ christ above. You’re American!” Your timid nature had given way to pure unadulterated relief. “Stevie, Steve Murphy, he lives in this building, yeah?”

“Yeah… Stevi...Steve lives here- I’m sorry, who the hell are you?” He asks with a puzzled look and a shake of his head, there’s an air of distrust about him for some strange reason. 

“I’m Y/N Murphy, I’m his sister.”

“Sister? Mierda... does he know you’re here?” 

“Nope,” You pop your P as you shrug at the man before you with false nonchalance. “He’d have to answer the phone to me or Connie to know that now, wouldn’t he?”

“Steve.” The stranger sighed, annoyed. 

“Sorry, who are you?” You asked, yourself becoming more bemused by the man by the second. 

“I’m Steve’s partner, Javier.” He held out his hand which you were more than happy to take in a shake, his tan hand was soft yet strong as it held your own captive within it. “C’mon in I’ll give him a call, God knows what time he’s planning on getting back.”

“Uh, I don’t want to interrupt…” You mumble, waving your free hand vaguely towards where you knew the woman was waiting for him, making him smirk once again. 

You were beginning to think that the sarcastic raise of his mouth was just his default resting face.

“You’re not interrupting anything.”

Now I know what you’re thinking, ‘cause I’d think it to. This is how people die in America, let alone fuckin’ Colombia, but if it's a choice between dying at the hands of a gorgeous man who seems to know your brother or a stray that wonders in through the non-descript lobby door then you’d rather go out with a nice view, even if he did have a girlfriend.

If you had to gamble, you’d say you had a damn good chance of making it out of this apartment alive. 

So you nodded and used the hand he hadn’t released yet to pull yourself up into a standing position. He wasn’t particularly tall but he still towered over you, your eyeline gave you a great view past his black shirt which was unbuttoned quite liberally, you assumed that was courtesy of the woman he’d entered with. 

“Thank you,” you nodded at him with a genuine smile of relief. He didn’t reply, only grabbed the handle of your pull along suitcase before extending his arm towards his apartment and motioning to wordlessly say, after you. 

Now you know how people say when you can feel a stare? You had the sensation before, but as you leaned over to pick up your backpack from the bottom step, you felt his eyes laser focus on your denim clad ass. You turned your head in disbelief and found his eyes still lingered there for a moment before meeting your own. Unbelievable. Part of you was flattered, the other part was bemused that he had a beautiful woman in there waiting and here he was ogling you.

You rolled your eyes, instilled with a new confidence as you turned and walked towards his apartment, you felt his eyes follow your form once more. 

Steve’s hot partner was an ass man... Good to know. 

...

As it turns out Javier’s girlfriend, or what you we’re starting to think was more of a one night stand, was not happy with the situation at all, you came to this discovery as Javier pointed you to the sofa before beginning arguing with her in hushed Spanish, the beautiful woman huffed and sent a dirty look your way before storming out and slamming the door behind her, with enough power to make it shake in its bearings. You raised your eyebrows at Javier from your seat. He shook his head with a sigh and began lighting up a cigarette, he turned and offered you one. 

“No thanks, I quit.”

“Woman with an iron will?”

“Not quite,” You whisper, shaking your head.

He smiles before clearing his throat and moving over to pick up his landline. Javier presses a combination of buttons, before putting it to his ear and blowing the smoke from his lungs. His eyes met yours as the phone rang, he gave you reassuring wink. 

“Murphy? … Yeah…  you need to get back to your place now... You’ve got a guest.... No … come find out why don’t you?” Sarcasm dripped from his lazy tone, his voice was so smooth. It was like chocolate on gravel, you could listen to him talk for hours, which led your mind down that deep dark hole of what he sounded like during more carnal acts, he’d be a talker, for definite, what with all that confidence and swagger. “‘Kay… I’ll see you soon.”

Shaking your head you centred yourself, it had been a dry patch for you. You needed to calm down and not throw yourself at your brother's partner, even if he just so happened to be the first man you had any interest in to show you attention in months. 

“He’s on his way,” He confirmed what you already knew but you liked hearing him speak so you nodded in thanks. An awkward silence filled the air for a few moments, as you two perfect strangers shared one another's company.

“Drink?” He offered pointing at the bottle of whiskey on the counter.

“God, yes.” You all but moaned at the offer. Javier chuckled, and grabbed a second glass from his cupboard, before pouring you both a generous serving.  He walked around the back of the sofa, and passed you the glass of liquid gold and took a seat next to you. Close enough to initiate something, but not touching, quite a respectful distance. 

Initiate something? God Y/N, get your mind out of the gutter. This poor man had only invited you in because you were his partner's sister and he was doing the decent thing. 

“Uh… The television work?” You ask, pointing at the empty screen.

“I didn’t realise you could speak Spanish…” His voice was dripping with false surprise, mocking your earlier attempts at the language, though he reached across and switched the box on with the remote, he began flicking through the channels so quickly he almost gave you a headache.

“Oh yes, I’m very proficient, I just didn’t want to intimidate you earlier. Hola Señor Javier.”  You say continuing his ruse. He chuckles at your words, it's a deep warm noise that shakes his entire frame. You were definitely thinking about adding Javier’s voice to your top ten list of favourite sounds. 

He flicks through the channels, for a few seconds before sighing and dropping the remote in your lap. Taking your assignment seriously, you sit up, bringing yourself a few inches closer to the man next to you, purely accidentally of course and begin flicking through the channels as Javier had done moments before, though 3am TV scheduling left a lot to be desired. 

News, News, Colombian QVC, News, News, Soap opera. Bingo!

“Ah, now we’re talking.” You mumble, eyes stuck on the screen of the Colombian Soap opera playing. The two of you sat in silence once again as you slowly sipped on your drinks watching drama play out. 

You watched in silence for around ten minutes, not understanding a single word of what was being said. The scene was on two latino actors sitting in a bedroom. The woman was sat on the bed being confronted by the man in a serious tone. 

“What is she saying?” You question narrowing your eyes at the beautiful woman's tone. Javier, who had been watching your reactions the whole time as you got into the awful tv show scrambled as he tried to listen and translate the woman's words.

“Uh… her dads an alcoholic and she’s trying to support her son… that guy didn’t know about the son... I think… she was happy living a double life without the worry and she wants him to forgive her and start over…”  Javier translated, giving you the general cliff notes.

“Oh shit,” You gasped at his words, but your attention diverted to the screen where the two had continued their heated argument and began kissing or rather where the man was devouring her neck, “I’m getting vibes that he might be open to forgiving her.” 

You chuckled at your own joke, as did Javier. Though this time when his body shook his bare elbow touched your own. 

How was he so goddamn warm? 

All he was wearing was a black button down shirt. One that looked to be the wrong size it was so tightly fitted- not that you were complaining about the view. My God, were you horny today.

You took a gulp of your drink, trying to refocus for the third or fourth time this evening, trying so desperately to reign in your inner school girl and focus on the television, though that didn’t help as the actors were now eating one anothers faces on a bed. The silence was thick with tension, though that could’ve been entirely on you; one innocent touch of a man's elbow and you’re a blushing mess.  

Get a grip Y/N. 

The silence dragged on as you pretended to watch the soap opera you had absolutely no understanding of in a futile attempt to ignore the man next to you. You can only imagine what he thought of your levels of focus on the tv, as you stared at the box in the corner of the room like it was the greatest cinematic masterpiece of all time and you were getting ready to write a full-scale analysis on the work of art. 

Javier broke the tension in the room by finally asking the question that had been on his lips all evening.

“You came all the way to Colombia... Why?” Javier grabbed a cigarette off of the coffee table, placing his drink where the carton of smokes had been. He lit the stick and waited for your response, honestly, you were thrown. The question had come out of nowhere whilst you were still trying to analyse why exactly this man had such an effect on you when he was doing nothing but being a good host.  You hastened to think up a half coherent reply before you just answered truthfully. 

“Steve stopped answering the phone, I mean he’s always been shitty at checking in, even when he was in Miami. When he got here we’d have a catch up every week or so, we all know how dangerous it is for you guys over here, so we joked about calling it ‘the alive check’. For the last couple of months, I was checking in with Connie more than Steve but he’d still pick up once every week, without fail. Then four weeks ago the fucker stopped answering my calls all together and Connie showed up on my doorstep with Olivia in tow last week.”

“Look, you coming down here probably makes more problems than it solves, Steve’s a big boy if he doesn’t call to check in, it's probably ‘cause he’s busy...  He’s-” Something about Javier’s dismissive tone rubbed you the wrong way, call it sleep deprivation or blame the weeks of stress, but you were tired of being called paranoid. You were not an overbearing mother hen.

“My brother always answers my calls. Or at least he used to. I can’t begin to understand what you guys are going through, but I’m not losing my brother to some piece of shit Colombian drug dealer.” 

Javier raised his hands in mock surrender, cigarette still in mouth. “He’s actually more of a drug lord slash narcoterrorist, but-”

“How is he?” You interrupt Javier’s attempt at diffusing the situation with humor, turning to him on the sofa. You rearranged yourself, bringing your leg up so your knee touched his thigh as you gave him your full attention,  you plucked the smoke from between his lips and held it between your two fingers as you spoke. “Tell me Steve’s fine. Tell me I’m worrying for nothing and I’ll get back on that plane and leave tomorrow morning."

You take one drag and offer it back to him, he accepts it, deliberately looking you in the eyes as he places the cigarette in his mouth, attaching his lips to where your own had been seconds earlier.  He takes it from his mouth and stubs it on an ash tray that rests on the arm of the sofa, his focus is single minded on his task. The pressure in your lower stomach is mounting as you stare at the tanned man before you who is carrying out a menial task that has you more turned on than you’d ever admit. 

When the red tip is extinguished thoroughly, taking much longer than you thought it needed to, Javi turns to you, his mahogany eyes have you pinned in your tracks. You found yourself admitting they were gorgeous for the second time this evening, they were the type of brown you could never quite describe, they had so much depth, not quite a chocolate, not quite coffee, they were rich and deep pools. They reminded you of the forest, not the green leaves but the earthy brown, the strong beams of wood that held everything up around it.

Javier's hand emigrated forward slowly, your eyes followed the movement in your peripheral but you didn’t dare look away from the pools of molasses as he reached to grip one hand at your denim thigh, his eyes roamed your face for any sign of this being an unwelcome approach and when he found none his other hand began its climb to rest on your jaw, just below your ear.

You couldn’t say if you moved towards him or if he advanced on you, all you knew was he was on you now as the tips of your noses rubbed against one another.

“Quiero saborearte…” He whispered so lowly you barely even heard it before he leaned in that last inch and captured your lips in a single, chaste kiss. Your lips connected and you realised the heat you had felt from his arms had been nothing. Fire coursed through your veins upon contact, surging through your blood and going south to a pressure that built in your lower stomach. 

Your hand shot up to land on his collarbone, before you could even really consider your own actions you pulled apart until your foreheads were the only thing touching.  He was intoxicating, you could lose yourself completely in this man, he somehow smelt like cinnamon, whiskey and sweat, a combination you’d never thought would send liquid fire through your central nervous system.  You’d give anything to taste him properly, but this was wrong. So so wrong. This was your brother's partner, this was inviting complication to your door, when you were just here to check on Steve. You were here for Steve.

You were here for Steve... 

“... This isn’t a good idea.” You all but whisper, closing your eyes. Regret pulses through your veins at your self imposed restraint. 

“Never is.” He leaned forward and captured your lips. You didn’t have any fight left in you, exhausted and at wits end you embraced your spiral into stupidity instead and your hands glided across the clammy skin of his neck to grab at his short ink black hair. You wrapped your fingers around it to drag him closer to you, your lips clashed, all teeth at first but you didn’t care as his tongue began to fight against yours for dominance. 

He tasted as good as you imagined, he was the right combination of sweet and bitter, with undertones of whiskey and tobacco on his tongue. Your response to his assault on your mouth told him it was go time, Javier pulled you into his lap and his hands lowered to your ass. Your body was flush with his own as your breasts pressed against his chest, you could feel every solid line of his lithe body against your own. 

You licked at his honied tongue, before withdrawing and pulling his bottom lip into your mouth and sucking on the soft plush skin. His mustache tickled your upper lip, a sensation you weren’t used to but could so easily grow to love.  This made him tighten his grip on your backside in response and he let out a throaty groan at the meat he found there, Javier was definitely an ass man, you felt his bulge pressing against your core as you both began grinding against each other in earnest. You felt like a horny teenager as you grinded on a man you barely knew. 

You felt him grip at the bottom of your tank top and begin to lift it, except he stopped, and began to rub patterns on the stomach he exposed. Javier’s mouth descended from your lips to begin to suck and lick at your throat. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at his work as pleasure rippled throught your body. His hands slid the length of your body to grab at your chest, which conforming to every stereotype was heaving, he palmed your breast blindly as his face was still buried in your hair, sucking and kissing along to your ear, before he raised his mouth a mere inch and whispered  “Te follaré toda la noche niña.”

He said it with such surety that your body convulsed in on itself without even needing to know what the man above you was saying. You could only hope it was absolutely filthy and profanity ridden, because then at least, the sentiment would be shared. He bit at the lobe of your ear before his hands left your breasts and travelled to the hem of your tank top, getting ready to pull it over your head.

It was strange to say that you remembered your brother was on his way here as a man tried to take your t-shirt off, but that’s just the way it went. You knew if that top came off, dry humping would be the most PG action of the night and if Steve turned up and found you mounted on his partner, he probably wouldn’t be too thrilled. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from stroking the man's hair whose face was planted in between your tits as his hips rose against your own pushing his hardened length up against the seams of your jeans, you gasped as he hit that sweet spot. You let out a noise that sounded like a wail. You wanted nothing more than to lie back and let this man have his filthy way with your body. And you know, from the hour you’ve spent with this man it would be phenomenally filthy. The kind of sex that would ruin all men for you, but no. You had to be a good sister. Like a fuckin loser. 

Sighing, you threw your body sideways before you could change your mind and ended up on your back. Javier followed you, caging you with his frame as he covered your body with his own.  Gripping your face like he was a starving man and you were the only sustenance he’d ever need. It would be so easy to get lost in him, to give in to that magic tongue but you couldn’t let this go any further so you placed a hand on his chest.

Taking your cue he paused his tongues assault on your mouth and stopped, resting his forehead against your own. You were both breathing heavily trying to come back down to reality, his eyes were no longer the chocolate brown you’d been comforted by when you met, but rings of obsidian staring into your soul. You wanted this man, my god you did. But this would make more problems for Steve.

The two of you stayed that way for a while, foreheads and bodies pressed against one another until both of your breathing evened out. The silence dragged, heavy in the air as you two strangers both waited for the other to break it. 

“...Is Steve okay?”

“...No... He’s been fuckin’ mess ever since Connie left.” Javier sighed whilst closing his eyes and breathing deep. You raised your hands from his chest, which was difficult as he was crushing his body to yours and cupped his cheek, you joined your lips once more, much like the first kiss. This was sweet and there wasn’t a carnal appetite behind it but rather an understanding. 

The loud knock on the front door startles you both as you’d been so wrapped up in one another you’d not heard the steps leading to it. The two of you split apart like a pair of guilty teens caught in the act. You both stared at each other for a second before he nods at you and walks to the front door whilst rearranging his bulge discreetly in his jeans, this was something you pretended not to see as you sat back up right on the sofa. You had only a moment to fix yourself, as you pulled your tank top from where it was hooked by your breasts and ran your fingers through your hair so you didn’t look like you’ve just had the ravaging of a lifetime. 

Javier pulled open the door and you clutch your hands into your lap, not quite sure what kind of reception you were about to receive from your brother. You hear the two men greet one another in hushed whispers, you couldn’t make out Steve's voice much until you hear his voice clear as day “...what the hell was so important it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

You stand from your spot on the sofa and quickly realise the button on your jeans is undone; if you’re honest you don’t even know how he managed to do that without you noticing, even though it's not the time you take a solitary second to commend Javier on his artistry of disrobing a woman. Turning quickly you pull the rivet back through the hole and swing around as Steve crosses the threshold from the hallway.  

Steve looks from you, to Javier and then back to you once more in complete surprise. It takes his brain a hot second to process that you’re here in front of him and in Colombia before he rushes you. Clutching you tight and hugging you to his chest. You hear something that sounds suspiciously like a sob leave your brothers chest before he collapses into you. The front door and Javier’s bedroom both in rapid succession, giving you the privacy you knew your brother would need after breaking down like this.

You couldn’t support Steve’s weight with your considerably smaller frame and the two of you fell to the ground as you held your broken brother. His body shook with silent sobs as he buried his face in your shoulder.

You said nothing as you held him and stroked his hair. In that moment you thanked your every instinct that screamed at you to come to Colombia. 

This had definitely not been a mistake. 

Part Two

#javier pena x reader #javier peña x reader #narcos fic #pedro pascal x reader #I LOVE THE BLACK FUCKING SHIRT #narcos fanfiction #javier peña #murphy!reader

[xwing-baby]

Impulse: Informant (Javier Peña x Reader)

Summary: Top of your class, the DEA have sent you to Colombia to be the poster child for their new ‘placement program’. You’re thrown in at the deep end into the drug war. With Agent Peña as your mentor, what could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: Nothing much! Flirting, mentions of voyeurism(?), drinking, hangovers. 

Word Count: 2.6k 

A/N: Bit more background this week, not that exciting but some fun moments with Javi and Steve. Alternative title: Meeting your killer and flirting with the boss ENJOY

<-- Previous Chapter  // MasterList //  Next Chapter -->

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Two months passed quickly and you were settled in well. You were comfortable in your job; you, Javi and Steve made a great team and you were learning a lot from the both of them. You tried to avoid interacting with Carrillo directly where possible, he was still as icy about you as your first meeting. You met Steve’s wife, Connie, and became fast friends with her. She had become one of your closest friends, and a welcome break from the machismo that radiated from your two teammates.

You had even managed to make a few friends outside of work. You met María Parreño at the cafe you visited nearly everyday for lunch. What started out as a little wave, now was lunch together nearly everyday, and the occasional shopping trip at the weekend. María was a sweet girl, funny and very sly when she wanted to be. 

You were careful, giving a fake name and lying about your job. You could never be too careful in Colombia. Plus, with how rich her family were you wouldn’t be surprised if you crossed paths with one of them during your investigation into Escobar’s dealings. So, Maria knew you as Isabela Serrano, you worked in the American embassy on the phones. You had lived in the USA for ten years, hence the accent, and moved back to Medellin after your abuela died. María didn’t take much convincing. 

You enjoyed her company. It was a lot nicer to have a conversation about books you’d both been reading over nice food, than trying to eat over photos of blood crime scenes. Plus, the coffee here didn’t taste like soap. 

“Isabela, can I tell you something,” María turned to you, set her cutlery down and looked over at you seriously.. Puzzled, you put down your drink and smiled.

“Of course, you can tell me anything,” 

“Diego got a new job,” 

Diego was María’s boyfriend. Her father’s mechanic. A total cliché, her father had forbidden them to date but she did it anyway just to piss him off. You didn’t know much about Diego, you’d only met him once or twice in passing when he came to pick his girlfriend up  from a shopping trip. 

“You’re saying that like it's something scandalous,” You laughed nervously, “What? Has he become a stripper?”

“He’s working for Escobar,” She whispered. 

“What?” You nearly choked your coffee in shock. You set it down on the table carefully and leant in a little to listen to her, not believing what she said. It was not an impossible thing, lots of people worked for him in lots of different capacities. You hadn’t expected it so close to home.

“I know! That’s what I said!” She said, “He came home the other night saying he got this new job doing something for Pablo! I said Pablo who, I know lots of Pablo’s. The man just looked at me like I was an idiot! Pablo fucking Escobar!”

“What does he do?” You asked, you had to know how dangerous this could be for you. Or how helpful this could be, you thought. Being close to someone close to Escobar could be invaluable.

“Escobar?” Maria asked.

“No! What does Diego do for him?”

“I don’t know,” She shrugged, “He said something to do with cars,” You relaxed a little at that. Escobar’s mechanic was not a very useful lead. 

You glanced down at your watch and sighed. Your hour was up. Just as you had got to something useful! 

“Shoot I’m sorry María I’ve got to head back to work,” You drank down the last of your coffee quickly and stood up. “But you’ll keep me updated with this Escobar business right? It’s just all so exciting!” You put down your share of the bill on the table and threw on your jacket.

“Of course!” María smiled, “One of Diego’s friends is having a party! You should come!”

“I’ll be there,” You nodded, “Same time Saturday?”

“See you then!” 

Before you left the café you bought two coffees to go for Murphy and Pena as a way of apology for being late back. You had promised to be out less than an hour as Pena had important things he needed to go over with you and Murphy. By the time you got back, he had already started explaining the new information to Murphy in a conference room.

“Then we have-,” Javi was speaking as you walked in carrying coffee for the two men. You instantly recognised the face in the photograph and interrupted him.

“Diego Castillo,” You said. The two men turned to you, confused. Unfazed you passed them  the cups and sat down next to Murphy on the end of the table.

“How’d you know that?” Steve asked. 

“I know him. Or rather his girlfriend,” 

“What?” Steve nearly choked on his drink at your confession.  

“I didn’t think I had to tell y’all everything I do in my spare time,” You laughed.

“Hanging out with Narcos would have good to tell us,” 

“He’s not a Narco, he fixes Escobar’s cars! He’s not anyone important. It’s chill,” You waved him off. He was being ridiculous, ”Besides I’m friends with his girlfriend who has no idea what’s going on. I’ve met him maybe twice” You explained, “María’s a sweetheart, we talk about romance novels and go shopping!”

“Castillo doesn’t fix the cars. He runs the whole road operation,” Javier said. Your jaw dropped.

“Well shit,” 

“Anything else you wanna share?” Steve asked. 

“I don’t know but Monday I might,” You sipped on your coffee before continuing, “I got invited to a party, I was going anyway but-.”

“No, no you can’t go now we know who he is,” He exclaimed.

“This could be invaluable!”

“You’re not allowed to have an informant,” 

“It’s not an informant if I am the one with the info!” You argued.

“Javi? Gunna chime in at any point?” Steve turned to his partner, desperate for some help as you had already spiralled far enough on this idea. You turned to Javi with a determined look.

“They don't know my name, they don’t know where I work,” You explained rapidly, “I know what I am doing, just trust me, please?” 

“Fine,” Javier broke easily. The idea made sense.

“What the fuck! Javi she-,” 

“She’s right. Neither of us is going to ever get that close and she’s new here, people don’t know her and you said you gave them a fake name?” Pena explained, you nodded, “Technically she won’t be breaking any rules if she’s the one feeding us information directly,” 

“If anyone finds out-“ 

“No one will find out, it stays between us, in this room,” Javier said gravely, “I trust you Y/n,” 

You smiled and nodded, a sense of pride washing over you. Steve muttered and grumbled under his breath but he didn’t outwardly complain so the decision was made. You were going to feed information you found out through Maria to the DEA, going undercover. Nobody had ever mentioned no undercover work, the idea of sending a rookie into that kind of situation was insane, but you wouldn’t be technically breaking any rules. 

--

The party was a bust. There was nothing of interest apart from the attendee’s themselves. Everybody was civil, there was no talk of business- as explicitly called for by the hosts, and apart from one fight between two guys over a soccer match there really was nothing to report. You spent the evening with Maria and her friends, drinking and dancing. Having a good time. 

They were decent enough people if you ignored the way they all got their wealth. A little hard to relate too at times- you didn’t have a private jet or a house with a huge pool but Maria’s friends were surprisingly friendly and once the jokes about being a gringa were out the way they seemed to like you. 

There was no information but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a well worth evening. You had their trust now. That would be invaluable moving forward. 

--

It was payday. Everyone you worked with was going out for the evening to let loose. You were with a large group of people from the office. Some you recognised, some you didn’t but either way you were having a great time chatting to people. The alcohol was cheap, the music was great and the company was perfect. Nobody here complained that their dad wouldn’t let them import Italian handbags anymore or that their pool wasn’t big enough. You felt much more at home here, amongst peers and friends.

After a few hours of chatting to people, you retreated to a table with Javier and Steve. Eventually even Steve left, leaving just you and Javi alone. You were drunk, no other word for it. Your eyes were heavy, a grin plastered on your face and you swayed in your seat to the music listening to Javi talk. 

You rested your hand on your head and watched Javier for a moment. He looked very handsome, as he did nearly every day. He wore a blue jean jacket, his shirt was unbuttoned at the top showing off his tan skin. You watched as he smoked a cigarette, watching girls at the bar. A pang of jealousy hit your chest, you wondered if you weren’t sitting here as his rookie if you would catch his attention. Before you could think, you asked the question aloud. 

“If I was just a random girl in the bar, would you hit on me?” You asked, sipping your drink.

“I’m not answering that!” Javier laughed, “I know you,”

“I’m hot! Why wouldn’t you?” You exclaimed, “Hot girls not your type?”

“You’re not my type,” Javier corrected you. You gasped dramatically.

“I’m taking offence to that! Your type is anything that breathes,”

“You think so little of me,” He shook his head solemnly.

“Baby I’ve known you for months now. You don’t have a type!” 

“Baby?” Javi smirked at you. 

“Shut up I’m drunk,” You dismissed him. 

“Well what if I ask the same question to you?”

“Would I hit on me? Absolutely!” You exclaimed.

“No! Would you hit on me?” 

“Nah,” You shook your head and screwed up your nose.

“Liar!”

“Am not!”

“Come on don’t pretend like you wouldn’t,” He said, “You’d be all over me,” The energy shifted as he looked at you. Immediate eye contact, his dark eyes looked you over quickly drawing you into him. He leant forward slightly as he readjusted himself on the chair and brushed his bottom lip with his thumb drawing your attention to them. Your breath hitched, lips parted and your eyes flickered to his lips. Was he going to kiss you? Suddenly he broke the eye contact and laughed, settling back in his chair. “See! You would,”

Dazed you shook your head and cleared your throat. Javi smiled smugly.“No, No! That's not fair! You being smoother than fucking peanut butter doesn’t mean I would hit on you if I saw you! You’re old and grumpy looking, I like my men young and energetic,”

“So I heard,” He said as he tipped his drink into his mouth.

“Hey! That’s gross,” You exclaimed when you finally realised what he meant.

“Goes both ways, Baby, if you can hear me I can hear you,”

“So you listen to me fuck?” You countered. Javi choked on his drink.

“N-no I-,” Javi stuttered ands tumbled over his words, blushing slightly

“You do! Dirty bastard!” You exclaimed. “Do you get off to it?” You asked, quieter now leaning in closer to him. Javi didn’t reply, taking a gulp of beer and breaking your eye contact. You laughed again, “Javier Peña speechless! Wow! Pretty sure I can retire now and I’d be happy,”

“I’m getting another drink,” He grumbled, getting up from the table.

“Tequila please, Baby!” You called after him. 

—

You woke up with the worst hangover you had ever felt. Before you really opened your eyes you darted to the bathroom to throw up. You groaned into the toilet bowl, annoyed at yourself more than anything that you had gotten so drunk. You didn’t remember coming home, didn’t remember leaving the bar. The last thing you remembered was sitting with Javi drinking tequila like it was water. The memory made you gag again, how did he ever get you to drink tequila?

You padded into your tiny kitchen to get a glass of water, and start your usual fix all hangover cure. Salted chips and Coca Cola. The sugar and salt combination would do wonders and had saved you multiple times after a heavy night before training back home. You found a bag of chips in the cupboard but no cola. In fact, your fridge was practically empty, bar an old jar of salsa that you were pretty sure had been sitting there since before you arrived in Colombia. The idea of having to go out to the shop made you want to cry. You rested your head on the fridge door and groaned as another pulse shot through your skull. Then you had an idea, the Murphy’s would probably have some! 

You could tolerate seeing other humans at least for a few minutes. So you pulled a pair of shorts on and a vaguely clean t-shirt, took your keys and went across the hall to your favourite couple. The hallway was bright as sunlight streamed through the open window, you winced and shielded your eyes. You knocked twice on the door, the established knock for friends, and took deep breaths as you tried to not give into the need to throw up again. After a moment, Connie opened the door, a wide grin on her face when she saw your fragile state.

“Good night?” She teased you. You frowned and pouted at her.

“Remind me never to go out with Javi alone ever again,  I can’t remember leaving that bar,” You groaned. “Do you have any pain killers? And some cola,”

“Cola?”

“Yeah. Cola and salted chips, the best hangover cure. Got the chips but no cola and the idea of going outside today makes me want to off myself,”

“Come on in I’ll see what I’ve got. The boys are in there,” She let you into the apartment and disappeared into the kitchen. Javi and Steve sat on the couch watching TV in the living room, the noise made you wince.

“Afternoon Rookie,” Steve greeted you smugly. You grimaced and leant on the arm of the couch next to him.

“What's the score?” You asked, watching the soccer match on screen for a few moments. 

“3-3,” Steve answered.

“I’ve got Pepsi, that's okay?” Connie called from the kitchen. 

“Yeah! Anything’s fine,” You called back.

“Can’t you go buy yourself cola instead of stealing mine?” Steve complained.

“Your wife said I could have it Murphy, suck it up,” You shove his shoulder weakly, “Besides, I’m pretty sure if I step into direct sunlight I’ll burn to ash. I’m taking your cola and retreating to my bed,”

“What did you two even get up to after I left?” 

“Ask him, I cannot remember,” you laughed. 

Javi looked up briefly, took a drag of his cigarette and shrugged. He looked as rough as you felt. Neither of you had come out particularly well.

“Here you go sweetheart,” Connie returned to the living room with a bottle of Pepsi in her hand and a small box of painkillers.

“You’re a star Connie what would I do without you,” You stood up from the couch and took the items from your friend. “Later boys,”

“See ya Monday Rookie!” Steve called after you. 

Next Chapter -->

--

oop Rookie and Javi flirting?!? Could never. Also coming next week this ish is getting a whole lot angstier again. I can never keep things nice for long haha

Tagging:  @beskar-tano @buckysbeloved @beskarbabs @all-hallows-evie @harrys-stan @themidnightsun-12 @wille-zarr @danniburgh @itsaisopodkillmepls​ @urbankaite2​ @whataloadofmalarkey​ @ahsofka​​ @yeetus-my-feetus​ @sara-alonso​ @lesbianlena​ @xiao-lusi​ @all-good-things-have-an-ending​ @eternallyvenus​ @ajeff855 @mayangel19​ @1950schick​

#javier pena x reader #javi x reader #javier pena #steve murphy x reader #narcos x reader #javi angst #agent pena x reader #javier pena angst #javi #x reader angst #narcos fanfic #narcos angst #pedro pascal x reader #angst #fluff #javi x reader smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #steve murphy #narcos fic #agent javier pena x reader #molly writes

[busycryin]

REPOST - THE NIGHT WE MET

THE NIGHT WE MET

PART ONE - THE NIGHT WE MET

Pairing: Javier Peña/ Female Murphy!Reader

Words: 5.3k

Summary: You decide to travel to Colombia on a whim, there you meet a gorgeous stranger that just so happens to be your brothers partner. 

Content Warnings: 18+ Smut-ish (I wouldn’t wanna read it out to my mom), dry humping, dirty talk in Spanish which reader doesn’t understand so does it really count?, gratuitous love of the black shirt from the torture scene.

Anon was worried about losing my work when I switched blogs, so fear not. I’m reposting on here but I have no intention of deleting my other blog, it’s where I got my first 200 notes and I’m honestly blown away by it. I’m happy to announce I’m working on a fourth part. I’m not sure when I’ll post it as I’m still in the idea stage but it’s definitely a start, ay!

AO3

MASTERLIST

Author Note: So here is my return to writing! The word count got away from me but I loved every second of it. Always after prompts, so drop me a message on here if you’d like to see anything in particular. If it’s in my wheelhouse, you’ll definitely see it.  

Pedro in the black shirt is what inspired me to write this, I can’t lie.

If you were brutally honest with yourself, this spur of the moment decision may have been a mistake.

Other people could make these choices and not have that nagging feeling in their gut from the second they booked their fuckin’ airline ticket. You had attempted to grab your crappy life by its metaphorical horns and go and sort this shit show out by yourself, but after your momentary bravery was used up, all that was left was a crippling anxiety that threatened to send you into one of your full scale panic attacks if you thought too hard about the fact you were following your big brother to Colombia.

Yes, Colombia. You, a U.S. national with no particular interest in hunting Pablo Escobar, had decided to vacation in sunny, crime ridden Bogotá on a whim.

You were fuckin’ dumb.

Sarcasm aside, you weren’t actually here on vacation, you were going to check on Stevie. Your brother, one of the DEA agents assigned with taking down Escobar.

You’d been worried about him for a few months, it had sounded like he was dealing with heavy shit in South America, you knew that was the job, but he was still your brother.

His calls had gotten less and less frequent until he stopped returning them all together and the only reason you knew he was alive were your pep-talks with your sister-in-law, trying to help her keep her shit together, but hell, you weren’t a therapist or a miracle worker. So when Connie rang asking to stay at your place you had obliged and she had returned to Miami a mere shell of her former self.

After a mammoth amount of prodding over the course of two days you managed to wring the truth out of her, not the nuggets of information she had given you over the phone in hushed whispers during her time in Colombia but the whole messy story; the communist Elisa Alvarez, Steve’s kidnapping and the cold edges your brother was developing.

It was all you could do not to book the tickets there and then, but you held out and supported Connie in the ways Steve couldn’t have, taking care of Olivia when you could and just trying your hardest to be there for her. Your presence alone seemed to be enough to help her through the days that followed.  A week and a half after her return, you booked your flight to Colombia in secret.

You had to check on Steve.

He hadn’t answered a single one of your many many calls. You packed light and told Connie the morning of, and whilst she didn’t like it, she understood. You supposed that a part of her was relieved to know her husband would have someone in Colombia that wasn’t there to kill him.

So here you sat, two hours into your flight to the paradise destination; Bogotá. Your brother’s address scrawled on a scrap piece of paper in the one hand and a glass of cheap whiskey in the other.  The alcohol did little to to calm your nerves, this was a dangerous place for a cop, let alone a fuckin’ clueless civilian.

When the plane finally touched down, you stood from your seat emptying the last few drops of whiskey which had tried to evade you onto your tongue, you picked up your backpack and queued to leave the plane.

The second you left the aircraft the humidity hit you like a brick wall, it was like all of the fresh air had been sucked out of the atmosphere. On a normal evening you would appreciate such a warm climate, but now the heat meant frustration to your tired brain and it only added to your baseline levels of anxiety as your hairline and upper lip were drenched as you walked through the arrivals gate.

Cards on the table; you didn’t have much of a game plan, you spoke no Spanish and stuck out like a sore thumb. You had the address but no means to get there, you didn’t relish the idea of getting in a taxi as a woman alone in a foreign country, but with little to no other options you went to hail one of the cabs that sat outside the airport.

Your fears turned out to be for naught, well not quite naught as the man had raked his eyes across your body for a large percentage of the trip in his mirror, but he had the good grace not to kidnap or murder you, which for you meant it was a successful journey, how low you had set the bar was just occuring to you.

After paying the gentleman he dropped you outside what appeared to Steve’s apartment building. You take a moment on the pavement to recollect yourself ready for your reunion. Peeling your denim jacket off, you decide instead to wrap it around your waist, tying the sleeves securely. With a harumph, you grab the handle of your suitcase, and drag it behind you. Your success thus far gives you a second wind of determination.

Though apparently dumb luck can only get you so far, because after heaving your suitcase up a flight of stairs and rapping on the door of apartment 20 until your knuckles ached, it began to dawn on you, you had no clue if this was even the right building.

“Fuck.” you mutter to yourself, you should’ve rang Connie or tried Steve again when you landed, but you’d been so single minded in carrying out your plan all common sense had apparently abandoned you. So with a million different scenarios of things you could’ve done better playing out behind your eyes you dragged your suitcase to the small lobby of the building, where the front door stood.

You huffed and dropped onto the bottom step in surrender, not quite sure where to go from here.

Weeks of anxiety and worry finally took their toll on your body as reality set in, and as it did so you couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer stupidity of the situation you’d put yourself in. A light chuckle escaped your body as you held your face in your hands, you rubbed at your eyes as a way of refreshing yourself before sighing and leaning back.

You must have sat with your head in your hands for around three hours before anyone of note arrived, you had received strange looks from residents in their comings and goings as they stepped around you, your expectant looks turned to disappointment when you realised they weren’t Steve. In fairness, you, a gringa sitting on the stairs at 2am, most likely wasn’t a daily occurrence to these homeowners.

By the time he came through the door, your eyes were closed and your head was leant on the bannister, trying to get what little rest you could. Your eyes opened a crack to see a man and a woman enter the building and turn right, the man had his arm around her as he stared at you in confusion, the look was so quick you may have missed it if you blinked, but they were talking in low whispers of Spanish and from the looks of things he didn’t give you a second thought.

So you extended him the same courtesy and shut your eyes once again, you heard the metal jangling of keys going into the lock, the sound of smacking lips and then the door was closed. You figured that was the end of it, instead you heard hurried footsteps coming towards you, your eyes shot open as he rounded the corner.

“Estás bien?” The man questioned. It took you a moment to realise he was talking to you, as you took him in you were struck by your stupidity, how could you have dismissed this man so quickly even in the throes of a mental breakdown. His chocolate brown eyes bore into your own as you realised he was waiting for a response.

“Uh… no hablo… español?” you pretty much asked him, cringing internally at your butchering of the most basic sentence of this gorgeous strangers language, his lips quirked at your mumbles making his mustache raise on one side with his smirk. Now, you’d never been a fan of a mustache, Steve and your father had both taken to styling their facial hair in such a way, and as a rule of thumb they were a big no-no. But my god. This man made that mustache his bitch and that bitch worked for him.

“You’re American?” He questions, smirk dropping along with his eyebrows in confusion as his brain processes the information.

“Oh thank god and Jesus fuckin’ christ above. You’re American!” Your timid nature had given way to pure unadulterated relief. “Stevie, Steve Murphy, he lives in this building, yeah?”

“Yeah… Stevi…Steve lives here- I’m sorry, who the hell are you?” He asks with a puzzled look and a shake of his head, there’s an air of distrust about him for some strange reason.

“I’m Y/N Murphy, I’m his sister.”

“Sister? Mierda… does he know you’re here?”

“Nope,” You pop your P as you shrug at the man before you with false nonchalance. “He’d have to answer the phone to me or Connie to know that now, wouldn’t he?”

“Steve.” The stranger sighed, annoyed.

“Sorry, who are you?” You asked, yourself becoming more bemused by the man by the second.

“I’m Steve’s partner, Javier.” He held out his hand which you were more than happy to take in a shake, his tan hand was soft yet strong as it held your own captive within it. “C’mon in I’ll give him a call, God knows what time he’s planning on getting back.”

“Uh, I don’t want to interrupt…” You mumble, waving your free hand vaguely towards where you knew the woman was waiting for him, making him smirk once again.

You were beginning to think that the sarcastic raise of his mouth was just his default resting face.

“You’re not interrupting anything.”

Now I know what you’re thinking, ‘cause I’d think it to. This is how people die in America, let alone fuckin’ Colombia, but if it’s a choice between dying at the hands of a gorgeous man who seems to know your brother or a stray that wonders in through the non-descript lobby door then you’d rather go out with a nice view, even if he did have a girlfriend.

If you had to gamble, you’d say you had a damn good chance of making it out of this apartment alive.

So you nodded and used the hand he hadn’t released yet to pull yourself up into a standing position. He wasn’t particularly tall but he still towered over you, your eyeline gave you a great view past his black shirt which was unbuttoned quite liberally, you assumed that was courtesy of the woman he’d entered with.

“Thank you,” you nodded at him with a genuine smile of relief. He didn’t reply, only grabbed the handle of your pull along suitcase before extending his arm towards his apartment and motioning to wordlessly say, after you.

Now you know how people say when you can feel a stare? You had the sensation before, but as you leaned over to pick up your backpack from the bottom step, you felt his eyes laser focus on your denim clad ass. You turned your head in disbelief and found his eyes still lingered there for a moment before meeting your own. Unbelievable. Part of you was flattered, the other part was bemused that he had a beautiful woman in there waiting and here he was ogling you.

You rolled your eyes, instilled with a new confidence as you turned and walked towards his apartment, you felt his eyes follow your form once more.

Steve’s hot partner was an ass man… Good to know.

…

As it turns out Javier’s girlfriend, or what you we’re starting to think was more of a one night stand, was not happy with the situation at all, you came to this discovery as Javier pointed you to the sofa before beginning arguing with her in hushed Spanish, the beautiful woman huffed and sent a dirty look your way before storming out and slamming the door behind her, with enough power to make it shake in its bearings. You raised your eyebrows at Javier from your seat. He shook his head with a sigh and began lighting up a cigarette, he turned and offered you one.

“No thanks, I quit.”

“Woman with an iron will?”

“Not quite,” You whisper, shaking your head.

He smiles before clearing his throat and moving over to pick up his landline. Javier presses a combination of buttons, before putting it to his ear and blowing the smoke from his lungs. His eyes met yours as the phone rang, he gave you reassuring wink.

“Murphy? … Yeah…  you need to get back to your place now… You’ve got a guest…. No … come find out why don’t you?” Sarcasm dripped from his lazy tone, his voice was so smooth. It was like chocolate on gravel, you could listen to him talk for hours, which led your mind down that deep dark hole of what he sounded like during more carnal acts, he’d be a talker, for definite, what with all that confidence and swagger. “‘Kay… I’ll see you soon.”

Shaking your head you centred yourself, it had been a dry patch for you. You needed to calm down and not throw yourself at your brother’s partner, even if he just so happened to be the first man you had any interest in to show you attention in months.

“He’s on his way,” He confirmed what you already knew but you liked hearing him speak so you nodded in thanks. An awkward silence filled the air for a few moments, as you two perfect strangers shared one another’s company.

“Drink?” He offered pointing at the bottle of whiskey on the counter.

“God, yes.” You all but moaned at the offer. Javier chuckled, and grabbed a second glass from his cupboard, before pouring you both a generous serving.  He walked around the back of the sofa, and passed you the glass of liquid gold and took a seat next to you. Close enough to initiate something, but not touching, quite a respectful distance.

Initiate something? God Y/N, get your mind out of the gutter. This poor man had only invited you in because you were his partner’s sister and he was doing the decent thing.

“Uh… The television work?” You ask, pointing at the empty screen.

“I didn’t realise you could speak Spanish…” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, mocking your earlier attempts at the language, though he reached across and switched the box on with the remote, he began flicking through the channels so quickly he almost gave you a headache.

“Oh yes, I’m very proficient, I just didn’t want to intimidate you earlier. Hola Señor Javier.”  You say continuing his ruse. He chuckles at your words, it’s a deep warm noise that shakes his entire frame. You were definitely thinking about adding Javier’s voice to your top ten list of favourite sounds.

He flicks through the channels, for a few seconds before sighing and dropping the remote in your lap. Taking your assignment seriously, you sit up, bringing yourself a few inches closer to the man next to you, purely accidentally of course and begin flicking through the channels as Javier had done moments before, though 3am TV scheduling left a lot to be desired.

News, News, Colombian QVC, News, News, Soap opera. Bingo!

“Ah, now we’re talking.” You mumble, eyes stuck on the screen of the Colombian Soap opera playing. The two of you sat in silence once again as you slowly sipped on your drinks watching drama play out.

You watched in silence for around ten minutes, not understanding a single word of what was being said. The scene was on two latino actors sitting in a bedroom. The woman was sat on the bed being confronted by the man in a serious tone.

“What is she saying?” You question narrowing your eyes at the beautiful woman’s tone. Javier, who had been watching your reactions the whole time as you got into the awful tv show scrambled as he tried to listen and translate the woman’s words.

“Uh… her dads an alcoholic and she’s trying to support her son… that guy didn’t know about the son… I think… she was happy living a double life without the worry and she wants him to forgive her and start over…”  Javier translated, giving you the general cliff notes.

“Oh shit,” You gasped at his words, but your attention diverted to the screen where the two had continued their heated argument and began kissing or rather where the man was devouring her neck, “I’m getting vibes that he might be open to forgiving her.”

You chuckled at your own joke, as did Javier. Though this time when his body shook his bare elbow touched your own.

How was he so goddamn warm?

All he was wearing was a black button down shirt. One that looked to be the wrong size it was so tightly fitted- not that you were complaining about the view. My God, were you horny today.

You took a gulp of your drink, trying to refocus for the third or fourth time this evening, trying so desperately to reign in your inner school girl and focus on the television, though that didn’t help as the actors were now eating one anothers faces on a bed. The silence was thick with tension, though that could’ve been entirely on you; one innocent touch of a man’s elbow and you’re a blushing mess.  

Get a grip Y/N.

The silence dragged on as you pretended to watch the soap opera you had absolutely no understanding of in a futile attempt to ignore the man next to you. You can only imagine what he thought of your levels of focus on the tv, as you stared at the box in the corner of the room like it was the greatest cinematic masterpiece of all time and you were getting ready to write a full-scale analysis on the work of art.

Javier broke the tension in the room by finally asking the question that had been on his lips all evening.

“You came all the way to Colombia… Why?” Javier grabbed a cigarette off of the coffee table, placing his drink where the carton of smokes had been. He lit the stick and waited for your response, honestly, you were thrown. The question had come out of nowhere whilst you were still trying to analyse why exactly this man had such an effect on you when he was doing nothing but being a good host.  You hastened to think up a half coherent reply before you just answered truthfully.

“Steve stopped answering the phone, I mean he’s always been shitty at checking in, even when he was in Miami. When he got here we’d have a catch up every week or so, we all know how dangerous it is for you guys over here, so we joked about calling it ‘the alive check’. For the last couple of months, I was checking in with Connie more than Steve but he’d still pick up once every week, without fail. Then four weeks ago the fucker stopped answering my calls all together and Connie showed up on my doorstep with Olivia in tow last week.”

“Look, you coming down here probably makes more problems than it solves, Steve’s a big boy if he doesn’t call to check in, it’s probably ‘cause he’s busy…  He’s-” Something about Javier’s dismissive tone rubbed you the wrong way, call it sleep deprivation or blame the weeks of stress, but you were tired of being called paranoid. You were not an overbearing mother hen.

“My brother always answers my calls. Or at least he used to. I can’t begin to understand what you guys are going through, but I’m not losing my brother to some piece of shit Colombian drug dealer.”

Javier raised his hands in mock surrender, cigarette still in mouth. “He’s actually more of a drug lord slash narcoterrorist, but-”

“How is he?” You interrupt Javier’s attempt at diffusing the situation with humor, turning to him on the sofa. You rearranged yourself, bringing your leg up so your knee touched his thigh as you gave him your full attention,  you plucked the smoke from between his lips and held it between your two fingers as you spoke. “Tell me Steve’s fine. Tell me I’m worrying for nothing and I’ll get back on that plane and leave tomorrow morning.“

You take one drag and offer it back to him, he accepts it, deliberately looking you in the eyes as he places the cigarette in his mouth, attaching his lips to where your own had been seconds earlier.  He takes it from his mouth and stubs it on an ash tray that rests on the arm of the sofa, his focus is single minded on his task. The pressure in your lower stomach is mounting as you stare at the tanned man before you who is carrying out a menial task that has you more turned on than you’d ever admit.

When the red tip is extinguished thoroughly, taking much longer than you thought it needed to, Javi turns to you, his mahogany eyes have you pinned in your tracks. You found yourself admitting they were gorgeous for the second time this evening, they were the type of brown you could never quite describe, they had so much depth, not quite a chocolate, not quite coffee, they were rich and deep pools. They reminded you of the forest, not the green leaves but the earthy brown, the strong beams of wood that held everything up around it.

Javier’s hand emigrated forward slowly, your eyes followed the movement in your peripheral but you didn’t dare look away from the pools of molasses as he reached to grip one hand at your denim thigh, his eyes roamed your face for any sign of this being an unwelcome approach and when he found none his other hand began its climb to rest on your jaw, just below your ear.

You couldn’t say if you moved towards him or if he advanced on you, all you knew was he was on you now as the tips of your noses rubbed against one another.

“Quiero saborearte…” He whispered so lowly you barely even heard it before he leaned in that last inch and captured your lips in a single, chaste kiss. Your lips connected and you realised the heat you had felt from his arms had been nothing. Fire coursed through your veins upon contact, surging through your blood and going south to a pressure that built in your lower stomach.

Your hand shot up to land on his collarbone, before you could even really consider your own actions you pulled apart until your foreheads were the only thing touching.  He was intoxicating, you could lose yourself completely in this man, he somehow smelt like cinnamon, whiskey and sweat, a combination you’d never thought would send liquid fire through your central nervous system.  You’d give anything to taste him properly, but this was wrong. So so wrong. This was your brother’s partner, this was inviting complication to your door, when you were just here to check on Steve. You were here for Steve.

You were here for Steve…

“… This isn’t a good idea.” You all but whisper, closing your eyes. Regret pulses through your veins at your self imposed restraint.

“Never is.” He leaned forward and captured your lips. You didn’t have any fight left in you, exhausted and at wits end you embraced your spiral into stupidity instead and your hands glided across the clammy skin of his neck to grab at his short ink black hair. You wrapped your fingers around it to drag him closer to you, your lips clashed, all teeth at first but you didn’t care as his tongue began to fight against yours for dominance.

He tasted as good as you imagined, he was the right combination of sweet and bitter, with undertones of whiskey and tobacco on his tongue. Your response to his assault on your mouth told him it was go time, Javier pulled you into his lap and his hands lowered to your ass. Your body was flush with his own as your breasts pressed against his chest, you could feel every solid line of his lithe body against your own.

You licked at his honied tongue, before withdrawing and pulling his bottom lip into your mouth and sucking on the soft plush skin. His mustache tickled your upper lip, a sensation you weren’t used to but could so easily grow to love.  This made him tighten his grip on your backside in response and he let out a throaty groan at the meat he found there, Javier was definitely an ass man, you felt his bulge pressing against your core as you both began grinding against each other in earnest. You felt like a horny teenager as you grinded on a man you barely knew.

You felt him grip at the bottom of your tank top and begin to lift it, except he stopped, and began to rub patterns on the stomach he exposed. Javier’s mouth descended from your lips to begin to suck and lick at your throat. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at his work as pleasure rippled throat your body. His hands slid the length of your body to grab at your chest, which conforming to every stereotype was heaving, he palmed your breast blindly as his face was still buried in your hair, sucking and kissing along to your ear, before he raised his mouth a mere inch and whispered  “Te follaré toda la noche niña.”

He said it with such surety that your body convulsed in on itself without even needing to know what the man above you was saying. You could only hope it was absolutely filthy and profanity ridden, because then at least, the sentiment would be shared. He bit at the lobe of your ear before his hands left your breasts and travelled to the hem of your tank top, getting ready to pull it over your head.

It was strange to say that you remembered your brother was on his way here as a man tried to take your t-shirt off, but that’s just the way it went. You knew if that top came off, dry humping would be the most PG action of the night and if Steve turned up and found you mounted on his partner, he probably wouldn’t be too thrilled.

You couldn’t stop yourself from stroking the man’s hair whose face was planted in between your tits as his hips rose against your own pushing his hardened length up against the seams of your jeans, you gasped as he hit that sweet spot. You let out a noise that sounded like a wail. You wanted nothing more than to lie back and let this man have his filthy way with your body. And you know, from the hour you’ve spent with this man it would be phenomenally filthy. The kind of sex that would ruin all men for you, but no. You had to be a good sister. Like a fuckin loser.

Sighing, you threw your body sideways before you could change your mind and ended up on your back. Javier followed you, caging you with his frame as he covered your body with his own.  Gripping your face like he was a starving man and you were the only sustenance he’d ever need. It would be so easy to get lost in him, to give in to that magic tongue but you couldn’t let this go any further so you placed a hand on his chest.

Taking your cue he paused his tongues assault on your mouth and stopped, resting his forehead against your own. You were both breathing heavily trying to come back down to reality, his eyes were no longer the chocolate brown you’d been comforted by when you met, but rings of obsidian staring into your soul. You wanted this man, my god you did. But this would make more problems for Steve.

The two of you stayed that way for a while, foreheads and bodies pressed against one another until both of your breathing evened out. The silence dragged, heavy in the air as you two strangers both waited for the other to break it.

“…Is Steve okay?”

“…No… He’s been fuckin’ mess ever since Connie left.” Javier sighed whilst closing his eyes and breathing deep. You raised your hands from his chest, which was difficult as he was crushing his body to yours and cupped his cheek, you joined your lips once more, much like the first kiss. This was sweet and there wasn’t a carnal appetite behind it but rather an understanding.

The loud knock on the front door startles you both as you’d been so wrapped up in one another you’d not heard the steps leading to it. The two of you split apart like a pair of guilty teens caught in the act. You both stared at each other for a second before he nods at you and walks to the front door whilst rearranging his bulge discreetly in his jeans, this was something you pretended not to see as you sat back up right on the sofa. You had only a moment to fix yourself, as you pulled your tank top from where it was hooked by your breasts and ran your fingers through your hair so you didn’t look like you’ve just had the ravaging of a lifetime.

Javier pulled open the door and you clutch your hands into your lap, not quite sure what kind of reception you were about to receive from your brother. You hear the two men greet one another in hushed whispers, you couldn’t make out Steve’s voice much until you hear his voice clear as day “…what the hell was so important it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

You stand from your spot on the sofa and quickly realise the button on your jeans is undone; if you’re honest you don’t even know how he managed to do that without you noticing, even though it’s not the time you take a solitary second to commend Javier on his artistry of disrobing a woman. Turning quickly you pull the rivet back through the hole and swing around as Steve crosses the threshold from the hallway.  

Steve looks from you, to Javier and then back to you once more in complete surprise. It takes his brain a hot second to process that you’re here in front of him and in Colombia before he rushes you. Clutching you tight and hugging you to his chest. You hear something that sounds suspiciously like a sob leave your brothers chest before he collapses into you. The front door and Javier’s bedroom both in rapid succession, giving you the privacy you knew your brother would need after breaking down like this.

You couldn’t support Steve’s weight with your considerably smaller frame and the two of you fell to the ground as you held your broken brother. His body shook with silent sobs as he buried his face in your shoulder.

You said nothing as you held him and stroked his hair. In that moment you thanked your every instinct that screamed at you to come to Colombia.

This had definitely not been a mistake.

#pedro pascal x reader #javier pena x reader #javier peña x reader #repost #narcos fanfiction

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Gin and Paleta

Pairing: Javier Pena x Reader

Summary: When a storm knocks out the power, you ask Javier to spend the night with you to ease your fear of the dark. A few drinks later, you admit more than you ever meant to. 

Warnings: Drunk and emotional reader, a wee bit of angst at one part, anxiety because of the dark, Javier teasing you, mentions of prostitution

Word Count: 5400

A/N: This is my first time writing for Javier and I’m a little nervous about it. Hopefully it’s alright!

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The wind outside howled with an intensity that you hadn’t experienced in a long time. You clutched your hot tea to your chest, allowing it to warm you in the nice cool Bogota night as you watched the rain fall hard and heavy outside your window. Every now and again there was a flash of lightning that crackled across the sky that was followed by a loud rumble. The storm was right over you and the lightning had gotten closer and closer to the apartments the embassy had put you up in when you moved to Columbia. 

It really was quite beautiful, this storm that raged across the city. It had been hot and muggy for days leading up to the storm but now the angry gray clouds that blocked out the stars and the pounding rain brought a blanket of coolness to offer refuge from the constant Columbian summer heat. Your favorite scented candle burned on the table, the smell mixing perfectly with the scent of wet earth, asphalt, and trees overtaking your apartment through the small crack in the window you’d left for exactly that purpose. The TV played mindlessly in the background to create further ambience.

Suddenly, there was a loud flash just outside your apartments that lit up the entire street, sparks flying everywhere out your window. You yelped in shock as the power surged and then cut out completely, leaving you in total darkness aside from the flame of your candle. At the same time, there was a deafening rumble and the whole apartment shook with thunder. 

Your heart raced and you panted as you walked towards the window to see that the power was across the next few blocks. There was a downed wire in the next street down that still sparked occasionally in the rain. Car alarms went off in the street. Lightning must have struck the wires. 

Then the darkness crept in. When you turned to face your apartment, the utter darkness and silence of every corner began to feel suffocating. You reached over to the table and held the candle up as your breathing struggled to stay level. On shaky legs, you made your way over to a set of drawers that held various boxes of matches and a few old lighters before searching the house for every candle and flashlight you could find. After about ten minutes, you had set up candles all across the main room of your apartment but it still wasn’t much light. Small halos of warm yellow light illuminated only a few feet in diameter around each small flame. 

For the final, and perhaps most paranoid move of all, you reached to grab your gun but stopped, fingers flexing and clenching into your palm as you tried to calm yourself down. “It’s just the dark,” you told yourself, breathing deeply, “Just the same things that are here in the day time. Stop being ridiculous.”

It was irrational to have your gun on you. What was gonna happen? The boogeyman was going to jump out of your closet and eat you? Maybe Escobar’s men would come and pick you, Steve, and Javier off now that it was dark. They did know where you all lived and they had already shown they had no problem flexing that fact when they killed Steve’s cat. That also was irrational and you knew it. They had better things to do and plot a whole assassination on three Americans during a power outage when God knows they had many other more menacing enemies. 

And even so, every little creak from the storm that had previously been endearing now became footsteps of intruders or monsters. Here you were, someone literally trained to take down drug lords, who had been in their fair share of gun fights and seen first hand the horrors that men can do to one another, cowered in the couch trying to stave off a full blown panic attack as you sat alone in the dark.

Maybe you could hang out with Steve and Connie for the night, at least until the power returned, you considered. No… they had Olivia now and you were sure they had their hands full without worrying about a whole grown ass woman who was just scared of the dark. You weren’t close with anyone else in the building except for Javier but that idea made you cringe. He would just make fun of you and you knew it. You already knew how dumb it sounded to be an adult who was scared of the dark. You really needed to just grow up and get over it. That was exactly what you’d resolved to do. 

Twenty minutes passed before you gave in. Twenty minutes full of startled gasps when the wind blew some leaves off the tree and into your window, the car alarms were silenced, or the wood floors creaked beneath your feet. Against your initial judgement, you pressed yourself off the couch, scooped up the candle that you’d had placed on the table and made your way downstairs to Javier’s apartment. 

You rubbed your arm nervously while you waited for him to answer the knocks, already foretelling all the shit he was about to give you. He opened the door and you noticed the single flashlight in his hand that seemed to be the only light in his entire abode. “Y/N, you alright?” He asked, noticing right away the way you kept peeking over your shoulder with an anxiety that radiated off of you. 

You nodded, “Uh, yeah. Your power’s out too?” The question was stupid and obvious and you both knew that. No shit the power was out. There wasn’t a single light on in the entire building. 

“Yeah.” He answered simply but there was little intonation in his voice that was certainly mocking you in his typical lowkey asshole way. He leaned against the doorway coolly and if you hadn’t been freaking out so badly, you would have stopped to admire. Maybe it was best that everything but his general outline was concealed in darkness. You’d been pushing down a crush on your friend and partner for months now, knowing it was unprofessional and knowing that he would probably never think of you the same way even if it wasn’t unprofessional. Coming to him like this made you feel like a damsel in distress and you weren’t sure if you liked that analogy, especially considering that you were convinced nothing would ever come of it. 

You rocked back and forth on your heels, “I was wondering if, um, maybe you’d be willing to hang out with me until the power comes back on?” 

A small smirk appeared on his face with a quirked eyebrow, “Are you scared of the dark, L/N?” He asked, using your last name as if to exaggerate the humor in the fact that a DEA agent who’s been shot at before is scared of something as little as the dark, “How old are you? Eight?” 

You rolled your eyes, cheeks burning red but playing it off with a chuckle. “Shut up,” you whined, “Look, I know it sounds stupid but I can offer beer or gin and a few paleta that I need to eat before they melt now.” 

Javier looked you up and down in the low glow of the candle that was held between your hands, almost as if you were using it to keep your hands warm. He couldn’t help the little endearing smile that crept on his lips. In all honesty, he didn’t care much that you were afraid of the dark. He just loved to see the way you got flustered when he made fun of you. His jokes were never meant maliciously, especially when directed towards you, and he was glad you could take the jabs and even throw them back. It was one of the things that made him crazy about you. 

After a moment, he nodded, “Yeah, I can come hang out for a few. Just let me grab my keys.” He disappeared back into his apartment, flashlight illuminating his couch and table as he grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter. Soon, he was following you down the hall and up the stairs to your apartment.

You hadn’t even locked the door in your hurried state to get down to Javier but you knew it wasn’t going to be a long trip. He noticed the various candles burning around your apartment, lowly illuminating the small space. 

“Beer or gin? I got water too if you want that though.” You offered, making your way to the kitchen to hold up your end of the bargain. 

“Uh, gin, please.” He walked in and made himself at home like he practically lived there. He had come over often to go over files sometimes over drinks and food late into the night. He was comfortable in your space and you were in his, with the exception of that hyperawareness of your every move when you’re around the person you like. There was a slightly electric feeling in the air for both of you but neither of you knew that the other felt it too. 

You brought two glasses of gin, probably a little fuller than they should have been, in and handed one to Javier and one for yourself. The pair of you sat on your tan sofa and you quickly inspected the packaged popsicles in your hand, “I have cajeta and chamoy.” 

“Don’t really care.” He shrugged, “sipping” his gin. You looked between the two and picked your favorite, giving him the other one. 

Two hours later, the pair of you were two paleta and three-quarters of a bottle of gin down (most of which you had drunk) and things had gotten personal. Topics had bounced from work stuff, to you teasing him about his well-known rendezvous with his informants, to childhood pets, and more. A silence had settled over the pair of you. Neither of you knew how late it was anymore, just that it was silent out save for the rain and the occasional gunshot. It had become evident early on that Javier held his alcohol better than you did but even he was slipping after this many glasses of hard liquor. 

“Do you ever get tired of being alone?” You asked out of the blue, staring up at the ceiling. 

Javier looked over at you, the way you tapped your nail against the side of the glass with too much focus. He couldn’t tell if you were trying to avoid his gaze after the question or if you really were just that interested in the sound it made in your drunken state. Your partner just shrugged though and deflected the question, “Get a dog or something.” 

Your face twisted in an over exaggerated look of thought. “I thought about it but it makes me sad to-,” you hiccuped, “to think about a puppy being stuck inside all day while we’re out chasing Escobar. No yard or anything for them to run around in.” 

Javier nodded in understanding, “Guess you’re right. Wouldn’t be a good life at all.” 

“See, though, Javi,” You pointed sloppily at him with a lifted finger from your fifth - no sixth - glass of gin, “You and I both know that’s not what I’m asking. But who am I kidding? You’ve always got all those little informants of yours hanging around. You’re probably not too lonely.” 

Your partner sighed, used to Steve giving him crap about it but you didn’t usually say much about it. “Yeah, well we all have ways of dealing with the loneliness.” Seeing the prostitutes in town wasn’t his proudest repeat offense and, if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t just see them for the information they had on Escobar. Even for people who had commitment issues, like himself, being alone got really damn hard sometimes. 

“It’s so unfair that they don’t have male prostitutes like they have women. What about all the lonely and frustrated women of Bogota?” You complained, taking a sip to punctuate your sentence. 

Javier couldn’t help but laugh a little, “You’re telling me you’d really go see a prostitute if there were men out there that did it?” Yeah, right, he thought. 

You shook your head and sighed in defeat, “No… I don’t think I would. I think I actually want someone to love, y’know?” You laughed at your own clicheness, “What about you, Javi? I know you have all your lady friends but have you ever loved someone?” 

If perhaps you’d been sober, maybe you would have noticed the way he sucked a guilty breath in and backstepped, maybe even might have apologized for prying into his personal life. In your drunk state, though, you had no qualms with your personal questions. 

“I, uh, I did. Once.” 

“Yeah? What happened?” 

He scratched his nose and hesitated. Another one of his less proud moments that he didn’t like to share. The only person he’d told that wasn’t family or a friend from back in Texas was Steve. Nevertheless, he swallowed hard and continued, the drinks even making him loose at this point, “We were supposed to get married but…”

“But?” You pressed, the intoxication making you obnoxiously impatient. 

He gave you a vaguely testing look before continuing, “But I never made it to the wedding.” 

You gasped, leaning forward and setting your drink on the table, “You left her at the altar?!” 

Javier flinched back at your sudden lurch towards him and looked at you with a slightly annoyed expression, “I know it was a shitty thing to do!” While he didn’t appreciate the judgement because he already felt shitty enough about the whole incident, he knew it was more the gin than you to blame for your outburst. He leaned forward and pulled your half-full glass of gin back towards him, not to drink for himself, just to get out of your grasp. “What about you? You ever been in love?” 

You bit your lip, “I don’t know. I’ve never really been in love before but there’s this one guy that I know that I think I could be pretty close to it.” 

Javier’s chest tightened at the thought of you loving another man. He knew he had no right to your heart but that didn’t stop the pang of jealousy at the thought. Part of him wanted to pry further, just so he could know you were safe (or maybe to fuel some twisted personal hatred for the man he didn’t know). In typical angsty Javier fashion, though, he opted for the aloof, detached, and slightly annoyed response, “Then why are you complaining about being so lonely? Sounds like you have someone.” 

You pulled your knees into your chest and threw the blanket that was draped over the couch over your now balled up form. You shrugged, glancing up at Javier with a look he might have noticed was longing if he hadn’t been looking anywhere but at you. “I don’t think he likes me the way I like him. I think maybe that’s why it feels so lonely. Knowing you could have someone but still being alone.” 

“If you could have him then get him.” Javier Pena, always the blunt one, especially when his own feelings were in the mix. 

You shook your head, “It’s not that simple.” 

Suddenly, Javier got a little nervous at your tone, “He better not be one of Escobar’s fucking men.” The thought of you loving someone else made him jealous and angry but the thought of you loving a sicario made him lividly angry. There was no way you could possibly love a monster like that but it didn’t stop the thought from crossing his mind. 

Your mouth dropped in offense, “Fuck, Javi, is that how low you think of me?” Your moods had been swinging all night thanks to the gin but you were pretty sure you still would have found the very suggestion just as offensive if you’d been sober. 

“What- wait - no. That’s not what I think of you, I ju-” 

“Well, clearly it is or you wouldn’t have suggested it.” You stood up off the couch, stepping away angrily but tripping over the low coffee table in the dark. Your slowed reflexes weren’t enough to catch you and crashed to the floor, “Shit…” You groaned, rolling over and trying to push yourself up to a sitting position. Your hair hung messily over your face when you looked down at where your hand met the floor. 

Javier jumped up and clumsily made his way to your side, “Shit, Y/N, you alright?” He knelt down and placed a hand on your arm, offering his other one to help you stand. Sparks flew where his skin met yours but you convinced yourself that you were just feeling because of the alcohol. 

You waved him off drunkenly and swiped your hair clumsily out of your face. Instead of sitting up, you leaned back and looked up at him, tears welling up in your eyes for who the hell knows why. Were you angry or offended or desperate or just a drunk mess? You couldn’t tell anymore but you weren’t used to losing your emotions like this and Javier wasn’t used to seeing it either. He halted, uncomfortable at the way your eyes shone in the candlelight with your tears. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even suggested that you’d be in love with a sicario. I really don’t think you’d do anything like that.” Javier apologized, a rare occurrence for the man but, gosh, would he say anything if it meant that your tears would dry. Drunk or not, he couldn’t stand knowing that made you cry. 

You sniffled, wiping a crocodile tear from your cheek, “Why the hell do we even sit here and make ourselves sad, Javi? Y’know? I mean I sit here every night and pine over a guy who I’ve convinced myself won’t love me. Isn’t that stupid? I convinced myself! How the hell would I even know? So instead of womaning up and actually finding out the truth, I just resign to the thought that there’s no way he could love me. Isn’t that pathetic? I should just learn to be like you. Confident. Women don’t say no to you because… well how could they?” 

Javier shook his head and looked down, “No,” He admitted quietly, “It’s not pathetic. It’s different when you’re talking about love versus lust. I pay for twenty minutes with a poor girl who has to do it to survive. If anything, that’s what’s pathetic. Honestly, I’m scared shitless when it comes to love.” 

He thought about your words and how much sense they actually made. The reason he hadn’t told you about his feelings for you were partly because he thought you’d never feel the same way. He was convinced that his reputation as a womanizer asshole, that he had rightly earned prior to you moving to Bogota, had turned you off entirely. Besides, wouldn’t he just mess it up? He thought he loved Lorraine but look how that turned out. The logical reason he told himself was the relationships amongst partners would be frowned upon but he knew that was a lie. Since when did Javier Pena follow the rules? The only thing holding him back really truly was himself. So why did it feel so impossible to come clean? 

Javier shook the thought from his head. You were drunk and rambling. Even if he were to man up and confess his love for you, this was not the time to do it. He’d be surprised if you remembered anything in the morning. Besides, you were on about some man you loved and he could only imagine who it was. He’d seen your gaze linger a little longer on Carillo than was usual for a colleague. Perhaps that was who it was, the mystery man that you couldn’t have. He was married, after all. It would be a logical road block. 

Part of Javier wanted to probe your brain and know the truth. He couldn’t tell if it was something that would make himself feel better or worse. It would put him out of his misery. Maybe if he heard it straight from your mouth that you didn’t love him, he could finally get over you. It would take a while, certainly many drunken nights and a few visits to Freckles, but he could do it. But if he did know, he also knew himself well enough to know he’d harbor some silent resentment for whoever the man was for taking the girl he loved. 

He shook his head at his thoughts when he saw the way you swayed a little, as if rocking on a boat despite being on solid ground, your eyes drifting shut while you struggled to stay sitting upright. You weren’t in your right state of mind and to ask you such a personal question would be a total breach of trust and respect. He’d be furious if he found out anybody else had done the same to you. 

“C’mon, let’s get you in bed.” Javier swallowed hard before shifting to help pull you up by your arm. 

Your body flopped loosely to your feet and you whined, “Noooo! We were just talking! Besides, you’re just gonna leave me in the dark and go back home.” You pouted, head lulling against his as the full blown weight of the alcohol hit you. Any composure you’d managed to maintain, which admittedly was very little, melted away into Javier’s chest as he hoisted you up and carried you bridal style to your bedroom. 

He glanced down at your made up bed and laid down your body as gently as he could, though you did roll on your own accord more clumsily than he had hoped. Javier flinched when your hands shot up to grab his shoulders, “Javi! Don’t leave me! It’s dark and scary still.” 

He sighed, his hands settling on his hips once he managed to pry your hands off his shoulders, “Just let me grab you some water and you’ll be fine.” 

“What if I wake up in the middle of the night and it’s still completely dark!” 

“I have a feeling you won’t be waking up for a while, hermosa.” He chuckled at the way your face was already half smashed into the pillow, your hair was laying over your cheek, and your eyes were closed shut, surely already halfway asleep. 

You reached up blindly for whatever you could grab, your fingers sliding down his forearm before they managed to hook onto a few of his fingers, “Please, Javi. I gave you popsicles and alcohol! The least you could do is stay the night and keep me company.” 

  Javier reached down and pulled the blanket that was folded at the end of your bed over your body. “I’ll be right back.” With that he left your room, feeling his way to the kitchen to get you a glass of ice water before returning to find you curled up in the blanket with your eyes closed. A small smile grew on his face, astounded by how you could still be so beautiful even when you looked like such a mess. A few strands of hair had fallen over your face and Javier reached down to gently brush them away from your mouth and behind your ear. 

You shifted a little, “You can sleep here.” Your hand stretched out to feel the other half of your queen sized bed. 

Finally, Javier decided to give in. “No, I’ll just make up a bed on the couch.” 

“There’s plenty o’ bed to share!” You giggled, thinking what you said was way funnier than it really was. 

Javier shook his head, “You're drunk, Y/N. I don’t want you waking up in the morning to see me in your bed and you go getting the wrong idea.” 

“You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to wake up to see you in my bed.” You snuggled further into the pillow, your words barely above a murmur. 

“What?” Javier’s whole body seized up and he couldn’t look anywhere but you. He shook the thought away. There was no way you meant that. It was the gin and nothing more. He couldn’t get his hopes up, “Nevermind. You just close your eyes. I’ll be on the couch if you need anything.” 

You shook your head, “This is why I’m in love with you, Javi. Always the perfect gentleman, even when you’re an asshole sometimes.” 

Javier’s breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t deny your words this time. This was different. There was a difference between this is why I love you and this is why I’m in love with you. “In love? With me?” He told himself he wouldn’t pry earlier but the question came out before he could stop it. 

“Oh yeah... I’ve had a big ol’ crush on you for a long time. I don’t know what the hell love is but I think I might have it for you.” The wall that kept back your deepest thoughts came crashing down and your sentiments came flooding out like a semi-coherent tidal wave of admittal. “This is why I didn’t want to say anything because I know you don’t like me like that. You got all these beautiful women at your beck and call and I’m just boring old me who’s scared of the dark, spends more time working than living, and couldn’t dream of looking as beautiful as those ladies do.” 

Javier struggled to figure out what to say that wouldn’t be crossing the line, “There’s nothing boring about you, hermosa, and you are so much more beautiful than any other woman out there.” 

“But you don’t love me.” You insisted, cutting him off. 

He chewed the inside of his cheek. This had to be the worst time to be talking about this. If he said he did now, you probably wouldn’t remember it in the morning. Maybe you’d even write off your feelings as just drunken blubbering and he’d have to play along as if nothing had been meant. If he didn’t say it now, would it lock it in your mind that he couldn’t love you? “That’s not true.” He mumbled the words quietly but sincerely. He looked down at your form that was halfway asleep by now and pat your shoulder comfortingly, “Go to sleep. We can finish talking about this when you’re sober.” 

By the time the words left his mouth, you were already snoring. With a heavy breath, he looked away from you and walked back into the living room. He kicked his shoes off by the table and laid down on the couch, getting comfortable beneath the blanket that you’d left there earlier. Your conversations ran through his head about a mile and minute and he couldn’t slow them down. You actually loved him- nay, were in love with him. His feelings weren’t one sided. He tossed and turned for a while, battling with himself on how to address this (or even if he wanted to). He wasn’t so drunk that he had no control over what he said but he was just drunk enough to fuel a confidence that made him devise a plan to admit his feelings for you in the morning, even if sober him would most likely back out. 

**

When morning rolled around, neither of you were in the mood for admitting feelings. It took several cups of stove brewed coffee before either you were even able to form any more than a groan. The sunlight killed your eyes, even through the grey clouds. Your head pounded and you felt nauseous for the first half of the day. Javier was just slow and a little grumpier than usual. The two of you ate some tortillas that you’d thrown on the stovetop for breakfast in relative silence. 

The power was still out, the constant drizzle outside making it too dangerous for the power lines to be worked on. Thankfully, the sun cast enough light for you to not be freaking out anymore. Around eleven in the morning, you were finally feeling a little better and you looked up at Javier, who still had yet to leave your apartment. “Thanks for staying last night. Sorry for getting wasted.” You laughed a little at your expense. 

He sipped his coffee and rubbed his eyes, “Of course. You’re a mess when you drink, you know that?” 

You buried your face in your hands, feeling your matted hair. Gosh, you needed a shower. “Yeah, I’ve been told that before. That’s why I don’t get that drunk very often.” You sipped your own coffee, reveling in the scent that a few hours ago made you feel sick to your stomach but now smelled like the best thing on this planet. “You can take a shower if you’d like.” 

Javier gestured towards the front door, “I’ll just take one when I get back to my place.” 

“Oh right, you live here,” You groaned and chuckled at your stupidity, “Sorry, my brain is still moving kinda slow.” 

He smiled down at his coffee, fingers playing with the handle of the orange mug. “I, uh, I wanted to ask you about something, actually.” He began, his confidence from the prior night failing him. Javier could be suave as hell when he was trying to pick someone up at a bar but with you, all he could get was radio static in his brain. 

Your face twisted nervously, “Oh gosh, did I say something totally stupid last night?” You were already mentally facepalming. There were about a million things that ran through your mind daily, even sober, that you would be humiliated if drunk you had let slip. Things that ranged from a stupid dream you’d had about strapping bombs to pigeons and flying them into Escobar’s fincas to your unrequited harbored love for Javier ran through your head and you desperately hoped you had dumbly mentioned the former of the two topics. You could handle being teased about pigeon bombs. You didn’t want to lose Javier forever because you had your crush on him slip. 

One of Javier’s hands moved to his thigh and ran up and down the rough fabric of his jeans. “No, it wasn’t stupid at all, actually.” His pause made you nervous, expecting only the worst. “You said that you were in love with me.” 

Oh gosh. This was it. The moment you feared most. 

“I did?” You asked like a deer caught in headlights. You could feel your face visibly pale as you stared at Javier with wide eyes. His eyes flicked from yours down to his coffee and you panicked, “I’m sorry. I didn’t-” 

“I love you too.” He interrupted quickly and bluntly, knowing that if he waited any longer either you’d say it wasn’t true or he’d back out and either way it resulted in him never getting the words out. This was his shot at happiness and he was going to take it. 

Your mouth moved with failed words before finally sputtering out, “I’m sorry, what?” 

“I love you, Y/N. And I’m sorry if you didn’t mean it and I just ruined everything but you said last night that we sit around and make ourselves miserable by convincing ourselves that it could never happen and I just- I just figured I’d try to find a way out of the misery.” Javier wasn’t one for grand gestures or sappy heartfelt speeches but the confidence he’d had last night had returned to him for only a second to give you the closest he’d ever gotten to either. 

His words seemed to snap you right out of your foggy hangover haze and you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off him and the way his brown eyes seemed to bore into yours with a depth that made you almost scared to look away. “I-I love you too, Javi.” 

His eyes lightened up and his mustaches quirked upwards with his lips in a cautious smile, “Really?” 

You nodded, your voice breathy when you whispered out, “Yeah. I just- I never thought you could love me.” 

“Hermosa, I don’t know how anyone couldn’t.” 

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena imagines #javier pena fics #javier pena x y/n #javier pena x you #narcos #narcos imagines #narcos fics #narcos drabbles #narcos headcanons #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

[this week’s T5F was requested by anon]

Top 5 Worst Choices That Didn’t Matter

“This game series adapts to the choices you make. The story is tailored by how you play.”

......Yeah okay, Telltale. 

There are a lot of important choices to make over the course of the twdg series, but as we all know, not every single choice matters. One of the biggest things people tend to complain about Telltale games is the illusion of choice and “my choices don’t matter! We all get the same ending anyway!” which is fair, I get it. 

I personally try to look at the choices in a more positive light. Like, yeah it doesn’t matter if you cut Lee’s arm off or not. No matter what, you can’t save him and he’s going to die at the end of S1. Except that choice does matter, just not in the way we wanted it to. It matters because it shapes the story we the player want to tell. 

Who is your Lee? Is he willing to do anything to rescue Clementine? Including cutting his own arm off if it means giving him just enough time to get to her, even though it’s going to hurt like hell and could possibly leave him worse off? 

Or is your Lee someone who won’t risk that, even if there is the smallest hope that they cut it off in time and he could live? He’s willing to let the infection spread and kill him because he needs both arms and all the energy he has left to get to Clementine?

Sure, it doesn’t matter in the end-- Lee still dies, but two armed Lee isn’t the same man as one armed Lee, and that’s important to your story. Plus, that choice is memorable as hell. 

But these kinds of choices that are impactful to your story in various ways? Yeah, we’re not talking about those today. Nope. Today we’re talking about choices that meant absolutely nothing. They never came back, they didn’t impacted the story in a meaningful way, they’re forgetful, and they’re just the worst. I don’t like ‘em.

Before we get started, just wanna shoutout @pi-creates​ for helping me bounce all these choices around and reminding me of so many things I forgot.

5.  Telling Clementine to bring AJ back to Richmond

One of the last choices you’ll make as Javier Garcia happens during a conversation with Clementine. The two are talking about AJ and Clementine’s wondering if she was a good mom [which still don’t love the direction they went there for okay ANF] and Javi has the choice to tell her to bring AJ back to Richmond, or to leave him at the ranch. 

And funny enough.... this means nothing. It does nothing. It’s said and nothing is remembered. Clementine never brings AJ back, she never mentions Javi telling her to bring him or leave him... all we get is a single line in TFS during the ranch flashback where Clementine says that they can’t go back because it’s a warzone that way.... but she says that no matter what. 

It also doesn’t help that this come at the very end of the season but isn’t a huge choice the affects the endings. I dunno if they were trying to plant ideas that “Ooohh this choice could decide whether Clem sees the Garcia’s ever again! Clementine’s story isn’t over y’all! The Garcia’s could come back and we could see Richmond again!”

But then TFS happened and they were like “Ha, that’s stupid, no one likes the Garcia’s.” and they are never mentioned by name again. 

4. Helping Sarah in the green house

Ugh, okay.

So, there’s this point in S2 where you’re trapped in Howe’s and put to work in the green house with Sarah and Reggie. Y’see, Sarah isn’t doing so good at this. Carver got pissed at her for talking earlier and forced Carlos to slap her... which he did, and it knocked her on her ass, and now she’s in shock. 

Then ya got Reggie who keeps talking about how he’s on thin ice with Carver but also he’s this close to being let out of the holding area, so behave and all will be chill. He gives you a task to trip and pick berries or whatever, when you notice that Sarah is just kinda standing there.

So you got a choice: Do you focus on your own work, or do you help Sarah out?

Well, it doesn’t matter what you pick. 

It.... it literally doesn’t matter. Sure, you could argue that it helps Sarah out and adds friendship points with her.... except no, not really. It’s never brought up again. She doesn’t even guilt you if you don’t help her, which is something you’d expect from these games. 

Oh, and Reggie dies no matter what. Yeah, Carver comes in and thinks a couple of berry bushes is the perfect reason to throw this man off of a rooftop... but then he doesn’t do anything to Clementine or Sarah either way. He doesn’t get mad if you help, he doesn’t go after Sarah if you don’t.... and it’s never mentioned again. Reggie’s death is, but your specific choice isn’t.

3.  Stealing from Arvo 

Oooooh boy, gotta love the Arvo choice. 

So, you and Jane are trying to find a safe place for Rebecca to have her baby when you see this kid walk up carrying a bag. He’s pretty harmless, and he’s more scared of you than you are of him. Jane gets the jump on him, and you check out the bag he’s carrying. 

Turns out, he’s got a shit ton of medicine.... medicine that your group could really use. Arvo panics and begs you not to steal from him, claiming it’s for his sick sister. You gotta decide if you want to rob him or not.

And it doesn’t matter. 

The best I can do to defend this is by kinda comparing it to when you steal from the Stranger’s car in S1. It’s more of a moral choice to shape Clementine, y’know? Except it doesn’t really do anything..... Clementine isn’t branded a thief after this, she doesn’t go around just stealing shit [though she can steal Pete’s watch but that’s another story]. But if you do want to keep stretching, then the next entry on this list could be seen as a continuation of Clementine’s thieving ways if you so choose.... but that choice is here, too, soooo take that for what you will. 

If you steal the medicine, you have this pill bottle that you can give to Rebecca but that barely matters, too. They don’t help or harm her when she’s giving birth, they do nothing for AJ, and no matter what you do.... Arvo’s squad ambushes you.

And it means nothing.

Arvo will always claim you stole from him, even if you didn’t. Rebecca will always die and someone will always shoot her, causing a shootout to happen where no one in your group dies.

Yeah, no one but Arvo’s squad dies. Mike gets shot, and so does Luke but that’s it. 

Oh, and stealing from him is never brought up again after that.... because it doesn’t matter. 

Even if they did something where if you stole from him, then one of your group members dies because of some bullshit reason, then it would mean something but as it is now? Nothin’.

2. Injecting AJ with medicine 

Oh hello, ANF, you’re back. 

This flashback is annoying on so many levels... Alright, AJ is sick and everyone has told Clementine that there’s nothing anyone can do to help him, but she gets her hands on the name of a medicine she thinks will help. So she sneaks around and finds the medicine, but of course, she can only give it to him as an injection. 

Instead of doing the smart thing and taking the medicine and moving away from the group to give to AJ in a safe location where she won’t get caught, she sticks around for Lingard to wake up, and he’s high outta his mind so that’s fun. 

He tells her that it’s not going to help him and to just put it back. She knows what they do to thieves around here but he won’t tell anyone. It’s up to you, do you put it back or inject AJ?

Well, guess what? 

Clementine gets caught either way and the drugs are either in AJ or smashed on the floor, David becomes a flipflop with his “We shoulda abandoned AJ long ago to die >:O but also you can’t take him because he’ll die out there!” and they kick Clementine out for being a dingus. 

And here’s the kicker.... AJ is alive no matter what. He gets through whatever sickness he had and went to the ranch. You injecting him or not did nothing... no side affects, nothing. I’m sure they didn’t want to go super dark by killing AJ off [except they kinda did since there’s a lot of scrapped concepts with a dead AJ] depending on if you injected him or not..... but at least it would’ve been something. Hell, maybe no kill him since we need him for TFS, but maybe it would affect if he went to the ranch or not to begin with. Maybe if he got worse, they sent him somewhere else and that would affect where Clementine went to get him back for the flashbacks in TFS.

Again, you could look at this as what Clementine would be willing to do for AJ........ but it doesn’t enhance the story in any meaningful way.  It affects what Clementine you get in the end, but that’s just some text on the screen. 

I dunno, this choice could’ve done something... that’s all I’m saying. 

1. Teaching Sarah to shoot

Once again, Sarah finds herself on my dumb lists... and not in a good way. Sigh. 

Alright, you wanna talk about the worst choice that meant absolutely nothing? Nothing at all? 

You get back to the cabin in S2 after leaving either Nick or Pete, and Carlos asks you to watch Sarah while they go out to look for the rest. You find Sarah, you can take some pictures, and then she asks where her dad is. 

She gets anxious and sits on the floor....but then she does something interesting. She pulls out a gun she found. It’s not loaded or anything, but she asks Clementine if she can teach her how to use it.

And you’re probably thinking, “Oh, that’s a good idea. She should know how to use a gun, but her dad is too over protective. This could help us in the future.” or “Oof, no, Sarah isn’t ready for a gun. What if that comes back and bites me in the ass? What if she shoots someone I don’t want her to shoot?”

Well, don’t worry your pretty little head because nothing comes of this.

Nothing.

You teach her to shoot, and it does nothing. She never picks up another gun ever again, she never does anything with what you taught her, and nothing happens. 

Just.... wow. 

At the very least... with the other picks on this list, you could stretch and make some sort of excuse for it having an impact on the story.... but this doesn’t do anything to further your relationship with Sarah, Carlos never finds out about it, there’s never a point where Sarah admits she found the gun, she doesn’t use it, she doesn’t give it to Clementine or anyone else to you, and it does nothing.

This scene could be completely removed and it wouldn’t change anything... which honestly, is something I can’t say for the rest of these dumb choices. 

That’s what makes this the ultimate pointless choice. 

---

Dishonorable Mentions

-Asking to go with Mike at the end of S2. Arvo will shoot Clementine no matter what and it’s dumb. -Keeping quiet about Mari when David asks you to. It doesn’t affect anything other than David being upset for two seconds, but you get thrown out and it doesn’t matter. -Trying to help Christa in S2 ep1. Either way, she gets shot at and you never see her again and it just doesn’t matter. -Honestly 400 Days.... just all of it. The only thing you get is pointless cameos if you get everyone to go with Tavia.  -Being nice to Larry. He still treats you like shit and accuses you of being a bitch to him anyway soooo.... yeah.  -Fixing the swing in S1 ep2. If you don’t do it, then Andy will.

----

It’s pretty telling that this T5F is just S2 and ANF choices.... sigh. Like sure, there are a lot of choices that don’t really matter in the grand scheme of things in S1 and TFS but most of those I can justify as being there to shape your story and are impactful in different ways..... but boy, there’s just something about S2 and ANF and their choices, isn’t there? 

Anyway, what do you guys think? Do you agree with my choices or nah? Do you have a choice you don’t like and think is meaningless that wasn’t on the list? Lemme know, I’d love to hear it! 

Have any suggestions for future T5F’s? Feel free to send ‘em in! :D

—

Next week’s T5F Top 5 Reasons Javier Garcia’s Pretty Great

#twdg t5f #twdg clementine #twdg aj #twdg javi #twdg david #twdg sarah #twdg nick #twdg pete #twdg carlos #twdg lingard #twdg larry #twdg christa #twdg jane #twdg rebecca #twdg

[wyofabdoms]

Undercover I Do - Chapter 7

Characters: Javier Peña x female reader

Summary: While on an undercover assignment posing as a married couple, you are attacked and nearly assaulted. Upon waking, all you remember about Javier Peña is what you remembering seeing from two photographs of the two of you posing as the happily married couple. As you struggle to regain your memories, Javi struggles with his own feelings for you.

Rating: Mature (Eventual smut)

Warnings: Memories of attempted sexual assault, fake/pretend relationship, married and undercover trope, temporary amnesia, injury, swearing, soft Javi, feelings, I have no idea how amnesia really works, brief mention of masturbation, Javi reads poetry...did you know that?!?!?...me neither!

Word Count: 4407 (again....Whoopsie!)

Notes: A trip to the office in an attempt to jog your memories ends up revealing more about Javier Peña then you expected. Plus, a trip to the farmer's market knocks some things loose and a thunderstorm brings you and Javi closer.

Read on Ao3

It had been a week since you’d come home from the hospital.

During that week, there had been so little success in regaining your memories save for those brief hopeful moments with Javi the previous weekend.  Javi had done as much work from home as he could this past week; when he did have to go in to the office, he usually returned with stacks or boxes of paperwork, spreading out on the coffee table or in the kitchen like now, grumping that he didn’t want to leave you on your own for too long if he could help it.  The time in the alone stretched on endlessly and you always felt a jolt of happiness when you heard the key in the lock and your husband strode in on a cloud of cigarette smoke, faded aftershave and cologne with (more often than not) a frustrated scowl decorating his handsome face.  You always took note of how that scowl slipped from his face when he greeted you, though, and that moment always made you smile.

The previous day you’d joined Javi at work for a short while.  You had discussed at dinner the night before that maybe more familiar surroundings would jar something loose...after all, Javi had said, the two of you usually spent more time at the office than you ever really did in your apartment.  You eagerly agreed.  If nothing else you were excited for a change of scenery.  

It had been more awkward than anything, really and you were disappointed that nothing short-term had seemed to come back to you.  Feistl and Van Ness had both greeted you warmly, inquiring as to whether you’d gotten the flowers they’d sent.  Both younger men had kindly remarked that you looked like you were doing well and then proceeded to lapse into an uncomfortable silence, glancing from one another and then Javi before quickly scurrying off to complete some menial task.  Dixon had found you as well, and had seemed a bit on edge when she had made small talk with you.  You simply chalked it up to stress, but you had seen her pull Javi a short distance away and speak furtively to him, clearly irritated with something he had said or done.  Javi’s brows had lowered over his dark eyes when the older woman had moved away and he had ushered you into his office, telling you he needed to pop into a quick meeting...shouldn’t take more than fifteen, twenty minutes and did you want to wait here or should he get a car to take you home?  

You’d been happy to settle yourself onto the worn leather couch, but as the time ticked by you grew antsy and started pacing around your husband’s office, tracing the pens on the desk, sitting in his chair and twirling in it absentmindedly, aimlessly gazing at the maps and photographs on the walls and bulletin boards.  As you wandered, the corner of your jacket caught on something on the edge of the desk, pulling it off and sending a stack of papers fluttering to the floor.  You cursed, then bent to re-stack the papers, hoping they had not been in any kind of order. You saw a thin, navy blue book also on the floor and reached to pick it up.

Rumi: The Book of Love: Poems of Ecstasy and Longing

You were struck for a moment: what was Javi doing with a book of love poems at work? You sat down in his desk chair again. Flipping open the small book you noticed a name written neatly in a woman’s handwriting on the inside cover: Sofia Flores

A small piece of paper, worn with time was tucked between the cover and the title page.  You carefully open it and read a small message in the same writing as the name:

Even though this marriage didn’t work out, my sweet Javi, remember: I will always love you. Xoxo

Your stomach clenched.  “This marriage” hadn’t worked out?  You felt like your mouth was suddenly sandpaper and you started to close the book and place it back on the desk when another loose paper fluttered out from the middle pages...one of many pieces of paper stuck there you realized as you flipped to the middle of the book of poetry, finding two with corners dogeared.  Two poems on opposite pages bracketed a small collection of what appeared to be newspaper clippings. The first poem read:

“Lovers find secret places inside this violent world where they make transactions with beauty.”

And:

“I want to see you. Know your voice. Recognize you when you first come ’round the corner. Sense your scent when I come into a room you’ve just left. Know the lift of your heel, the glide of your foot. Become familiar with the way you purse your lips then let them part, just the slightest bit, when I lean in to your space and kiss you. I want to know the joy of how you whisper “more”

Your breath caught at the simplicity and beauty of the poems, and it made your heart ache that your husband even possessed a book of poetry, much less one filled with such lovely words. You started to look through the clippings flattened between these two poems and were surprised when you noticed they all seemed to be about you.  

There were five total: one from what appeared to be an interoffice newsletter highlighting your work as a successful agent in a mostly male dominated field.  The short article included a photograph of you taken several years ago when you had graduated from Quantico.  The other four were in Spanish and had clearly come from local Bogota papers.  Each had grainy black and white photos of you (and two with Javi along with some other DEA agents) at different locations around the city taken during the last two years as you had worked to help unravel the mess that was Columbian drug trafficking.  In one, you and Javi and Feistl stood together surveying a map spread on the hood of a Jeep, most likely either pre- or post- op.  In another, you were escorting a minor drug crony from a building, his hands behind his back, your hand firmly on his shoulder and your torso covered in a sturdy tac vest.  The others were similar and at the bottom of the small pile of clippings, you found a polaroid photo.

It was another picture of you, but in this one you were sitting amongst a small group of co-workers.   Despite the others in the picture, you were framed at the center, clearly the focus of the photographer.  You remembered this night from over a year ago: It was Van Ness’’s birthday and you and several other colleagues had pitched in to buy him a Polaroid camera like the one that would have taken this picture.  It had been a good night out, a fun dinner with margaritas and beer flowing.  As everyone got more silly and giggly and loose, the camera had been passed around and each person had taken a turn snapping a photo.  You vaguely remembered glancing across the table just as the snap from this photo being taken had reached your ears and noticed Peña lowering the camera from his face, removing the picture from the roller as it slid from the device, growling something to the person next to him as he passed the camera. You hadn’t thought anything of it, thinking your partner had just taken a wide shot of you and your colleagues across the table. All of the photos had been collected at the end of the evening and presented to Van Ness, who had spread them all out on the table for everyone to giggle and admire one another’s silly faces and poses.  

The realization struck you that your husband must have kept the photo he had taken that night, a photo with you at it’s center.  It was worn, smudged along the edges and showing creases and a small tear in one corner.  Clearly it was handled regularly.

“Hey.”  The gruff rasp of your husband’s voice startled you and you looked up at him guilty.  “You ready to get outta here…?”  He stopped short when he saw the book in your hand, the clippings on the desk, the photograph in your other hand.

“I’m sorry!”  Your first instinct was to apologize; clearly this wasn’t something he wanted people to see. “I didn’t…” You quickly moved from being apologetic to feeling tears well up in your eyes as you remembered: “even though this marriage didn’t work out”...from “Sofia”.  You looked up at him.  “Javi?”  You could only choke out his name by way of question.

Javi’s face transformed to worry when he heard your voice say his name.  He moved quickly to crouch next to you in his desk chair.

“Hey, hey...it’s ok.  What is it?  Whatsa matter?”  He put a callused hand along your cheek, searching your eyes for an explanation.  You could only look back down at the book in your hands.

“Is our marriage over?”  You asked him, tears starting to fall.  His brows came together in confusion and he spoke softly.

“What?  What do you...what do you mean, sweetheart?”  You flipped back to the front cover of the book, smoothing out the note from “Sofia”.  

“Who’s Sofia Flores?” You held your breath, waiting for him to look guilty, ashamed, abashed at being found out, but you saw realization flutter across his eyes and his face relaxed; he released a puff of air...almost a small laugh, and he stood, leaning carefully on the desk next to you, wiping a hand across his face.

“No.  No, sweetheart...it’s not what you think.”  He looked at you for a moment, studying you carefully.  “Do you remember...do you remember me telling you about Lorraine?”  You nod and the next instant, you feel relief come over you.  Lorraine: his former fiancé back in Texas.  He had told you about her once, one late night at the office when you had both sipped a little too much whiskey and started swapping stories about miserable past relationships.  Lorraine: who had always put him down, made him feel like he was never good enough, a piece of shit, who demeaned the things he had found interesting.  You had never met the woman, but you remember feeling that night like you had never hated anyone as much as you hated her for treating Javi so poorly.  You also remember thinking to yourself that night how incredibly wrong someone could be about another human being.  But then again, you hadn’t been engaged to Javier Peña….yet.  Javi sees it click in your face and continues.

“Sofia Flores was my mom.  She gave me this,” he gently takes the book from you, “right after I left Lorraine...right before I came here.  She taught herself English with this.” He held the book up, pride sparking behind his eyes at the memory of his mother.  You nodded, remembering him telling you how she had passed during his first few months in Columbia; it had been sudden and he hadn’t even known she was sick until it was too late.  He hadn’t been able to get back in time to say goodbye…You noticed him swallow hard as he saw the articles about you spread on the desk.  

“What about…”you gesture to the clippings, the photo in your hand. “What about all of these?  Why do you have all this stuff about me stuck in here?  Why don’t you keep these at home?” He looked uncomfortable for a moment, like he was caught at something somehow.

“I, uh….I just...I had ‘em tucked away from...before we were…” He stopped himself, seeming to think carefully about what to say next.  Then he looked from the articles to you and then away again, almost shy.  “I guess...I had a little crush on you when we were partners and...I just never took ‘em out of there after...things changed.”  He took the photo from you, looking at it for a moment, then back at you; for a moment he looked like a little boy waiting to be yelled at for breaking a window with his baseball.  You smiled up at him and his face relaxed, returning the smile with a small one of his own.  He cleared his throat and straightened from the desk, returning the articles and picture back to their spot in the middle of the book and quickly depositing the book into a desk drawer.  He held his hand out to you and pulled you to your feet.  “Hungry?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said, taking a step closer to him and keeping hold of his hand for a moment when he let go.  He looked surprised by your closeness, then smiled down at you again, carefully.  You stood on your tiptoes and carefully kissed him; a chaste, quick kiss lasting only a moment or two, but you felt a current dance between your connected lips, like sparks from an incorrectly attached jumper cable.  His eyes stayed closed for several seconds after you broke the kiss and settled back onto your feet; you smiled at how in awe of the taste of you he seemed to be.  Your smile turned into a grin when he opened his eyes and met your gaze, smiling softly back at you.  “I’m starving, actually.”  

You slid your arm through your husband’s as the two of you left the office and headed for a late lunch.

****

You’re a fuckin’ moron, Peña! Javier had thought to himself instantly when he had walked back into his office and seen her sitting at his desk with the Rumi book in her hand. He’d panicked when he’d heard her say his name and seen the tears in her eyes.  He’d quickly realized the confusion and had breathed easy knowing she hadn’t been angry with him.

 Once more he felt like a creep when he realized she had found the articles and picture he had kept tucked away inside it.  He saw her everyday in clearer situations: her beautiful face on the phone, tongue between her lips, determining if a tip is legitimate; listening through headphones as she giggled trying to seduce an informant; watching beads of sweat drip down her neck and the sound of her heavy pants after she’s finished running down a narco in the dusty streets.  

He’s not proud to admit that he has thrown his imagination to any one of these memories on the occasion when he would not seek out a woman to distract him and he had instead unbuttoned his jeans and pumped himself to the thought of his partner. That seemed to have been happening more and more in recent months, but he hadn’t ever used those photos for THAT.

He kept these for the even more frequent occasion when he would close his office door, stare at her face and reread one of those poems for the millionth time, feeling when he did a balloon expand inside his chest with yearning for her...aching to hold her close to him and whisper those lines in her ear; truths about how he felt about her.  

Now, he refused to acknowledge how much it made his heart sing as they walked through the outdoor market a few minute’s walk from their apartment.  They had returned home and had lunch, no new memories having made an appearance with exposure to their place of work.  She had been frustrated by and he had suggested they go for a walk, get out of the apartment some more...it was a beautiful day after all.

Now, they wandered past the tables and stalls of brightly colored pineapples, papayas, bananas, peppers and avocados, stopping occasionally to buy something for dinner or pausing for her to admire a woven bag.  She spoke Spanish to the merchants easily, a good sign, he thought, that her long term memories were strong.  

He discreetly admired his partner’s profile as she stopped to look at a bright display of flowers, enquiring about price from the kind, toothless, stooped older woman manning the stall.  She paid the lovely worker and put her nose to the large white bouquet of petals and Javi felt his heart nearly stop.  

She was so beautiful.

...It took him a moment to realize something was wrong, but when he noticed her stiffen and her brow furrow, he was next to her in an instant, his hand on her elbow, quietly saying her name.  She looked at him...but didn’t see him for a few moments, her gaze was elsewhere, seeing something else.  He knew she was remembering something.

“I remember…”she started, blinking her eyes and looking back down at the flowers in her hands. “Plumeria…” she said quietly.  “I remember we were next to...a swimming pool?  You and I?  It was nighttime.”  

Javi knew exactly what she had remembered.  He gulped, saying nothing, not wanting to distract her from remembering. She continued following the thread of memory the scent of the flowers had unlocked.

“We were…” Her face flushed suddenly and she glanced up at him, then away again almost immediately.  “...together.  You...had me up against…” she gulped, the blush in her face turning a deeper scarlet.  Javi remembered, too.

They’d made an early exit from Ortiz’s dinner party; she had feigned a headache.  They had believed Ortiz’s lab was beneath his pool, the entrance through the pool house in the back of his home.  While everyone else had been occupied with the forth course and an unknown number of drinks, the two of them had slipped back around the premises, creeping along the sparkling pool, trying to find some clue to get them into the lab, something they could use to get a warrant.  

Javi had heard the noise from the guards making their rounds first, and he had yanked his partner by the elbow, pressing her back up against one of the plumeria trees, shoving one knee between her legs, gripping her ass with one hand and holding her head carefully with the other as he shoved his mouth against hers.  She had fallen into the ruse seamlessly, recognizing instantly what he was doing.  Her hands gripped fistfuls of his hair, one leg coming up to wrap around his waist, drawing her skirt up and giving his hips more access to the space between her legs.  

Even though it was only pretend, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from growing hard...being so close to her sex he had found himself grinding himself into her without thinking, eliciting a small moan from her mouth.  He had torn his lips away and begun devouring her neck, making her gasp into the thick, flower scented air and signaling their location to the guards.  He had snaked his hand up the front of her dress and pulled down, releasing her breast to the cool night air.  She had pulled his head down and thrust her groin along the hard outline of his cock and he had gladly taken the pert nipple into his mouth, relishing in the sensation the soft pebble made between the gentle ministrations of his teeth.  

“Perdón por interrumpir, Señor Sanchez,” The two of them had sprung apart, reacting to Javier’s pseudonym, playing up the caught couple.  Despite the act, though, Javi had looked at her as she’d straightened her dress, running a hair through her hair and he couldn’t help admire her swollen lips from his kisses and the flush on her cheeks.  He had seen something in your eyes, reflecting what he felt himself.  

That hadn’t been all fake.

“I...I don’t remember anything other than...us...against the tree.”  Her voice snapped him back out of the memory; she was staring at the flowers in her hand sadly, grasping for more of the memory.  

He didn’t particularly want her to remember what had happened next.

That night they had been found out.  They had been followed back to their “home” and both beaten, separated for a time in different rooms.  He had heard her yelling and had heard over and over the sound of crashes and fists and palms meeting flesh amidst the sounds of the same happening to him.  He had shouted, too, wanting her to know he was still there, he was still with her, they were still in it together.  Later, after the sicarios had given them both a rest, they had been reunited when they were dragged into “their” bedroom and secured to their respective places, whispering to one another, made to wait through the dark hours of the early morning...until Ortiz’s men had returned when the sun had come up.  

The rest, he didn’t want to think about.

“Well…” His voice was gruff from the thought of how close he had come to losing her that day.  “That’s something.  That was...recent...just a few weeks ago.”  She looked at him curiously, clearly able to see that he was reacting differently to the memory of them kissing passionately beneath a plumeria tree.  She said his name, a question filling the sound.  He looked at her and forced a small smile.  “That’s good.” He said quietly, reaching for her hand.  “C’mon. Let’s go home.”  

+

+

+

+

Javier laid awake in the darkness of the living room, trying not to think about that night again for the millionth time.  The blanket was scratchy on his bare chest; he kicked it off of him and lay there, listening to the sound of the pounding rain outside, the occasional flash of lightning illuminating the apartment, thunder crashing and rumbling loudly.  He hated that he would always have that memory of her, calling out, yelling in terror and panic.  

He sat up….had he dozed off?  He thought he had heard her screaming his name again, just like she had from the other room that fateful night.

Then he heard it again.

“JAVI!!”

He was down the hall and next to her on the bed faster than he could take a breath.  She was curled in a ball, the covers soaked from sweat and kicked off of her, shaking furiously.  In the light from a flash of lightning, he saw that her eyes were closed tightly, her face contorted into a terrified mask.  She was having a nightmare... 

...and was calling out for him.

He carefully placed his hands on her shoulders, gently nudging her, not wanting to frighten her more upon waking, but wanting desperately to rescue her from the terror of her dream.  She screamed as she bolted upright, nearly knocking her head into his.  He gripped her shoulders firmly as her arms flailed out around her, fighting against him.

“Heyheyhey...easy, it’s me….its just me.  It’s Javi.”  She recognized him after a moment, and he continued to murmur that he was there, that she was ok, that he had her, that it had just been a bad dream; she flung herself into his arms.  He held her against him, soothing her, whispering to her like she was a child, feeling her body shake.  He felt warm, wet drops on his chest and knew she was crying.  He gripped his arms around her more tightly, trying with all of his might to will her peace, a feeling of being safe.  

They stayed that way for a long time, him stroking her hair, murmuring into her ear, rocking her gently against him.  Finally, he felt her take a shaky breath and she whispered against his chest:

“It felt so real.  I was tied to a bed and...there was a man...he was trying to…” her voice choked into a sob once more and he felt the tears start to wet his chest again.

“Shhhhh….shhhhhh.  It’s ok.” His voice was hoarse from sleep, cigarettes, fear...memories.  “You’re safe now.  I’ve got you.” He buries his face in her hair and breathes her name. “I won’t let anything happen to you.  I’ve got you.”

More time passes.  Her breathing settles and her tears dry, but he continues to hold her.  He feels the tension in her body release itself, little by little and she takes a deep, shaky breath before pulling back to look at him.  The room is still dark and the rain still pours down outside, but the thunder has passed, is getting softer. 

“It was just a nightmare.” She whispers, almost to herself.

He can’t bring himself to correct her; that it was a memory.  Not tonight, he thinks.

She’s staring into his chest, appearing to think about something carefully.  He moves to unwrap himself from her, to settle her back into bed, but she grips his forearms firmly, stopping him from pulling away.

“Stay.”  She breathes and he almost doesn’t hear it.  He thinks for a moment, telling himself he shouldn’t.  It’s not a good idea.  But then she lifts her eyes to meet his and in the near darkness he sees them sparkle and she whispers: “Please.  Stay with me.”

He doesn’t say anything.  He just carefully bores her backwards until she’s lying on her back, her head on her pillow. He hovers above her, gazing down at her like a lover...like a husband might do before kissing his wife and bringing her to ecstasy…

...He shifts himself to lie next to her, behind her and he pulls her back against his chest, feeling her legs move to tangle with his.   He reaches down to straighten the sheets and pulls them over top of both of them, then wraps his arms around her.  He listens to her breathing get heavier and slow and he’s sure she must be asleep.  Just as he thinks about closing his own eyes, she turns and rolls to face him, wrapping her own arms around him, too and burying her face in his neck.  He’s sure she can feel his pulse pounding frantically, but she simply sighs softly, her breath skimming across his skin.  Her breathing slows and deepens once again.  She’s asleep.

Javi sighs, remembering the taste of her lips during that sweet, innocent kiss in his office earlier that day. Closing his own eyes, he buries his face in her hair, drifting off to sleep with the weight of her in his arms.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 8,  Chapter 9, Chapter 10,  Chapter 11,  Chapter 12,  Chapter 13

#javier peña x reader #javi #narcos #javier pena x female reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #undercover marriage

[adesertdaydream]

So, since you’re looking for ideas... What about an argument that breaks out between one of Maurice’s characters (your choice because I seriously can’t choose) and another character, and then the reader tries to break it up and she may or may not be successful. Could be a one shot or even something leading up to it to make it longer ☺️

So for this ask... we are going to throw a lot of timeline and story details out the window. Just buckle up and enjoy this ride.

You had been dating Kevin for almost 2 years when you had taken the assignment to Colombia. It was serious enough that you shared an apartment and you loved him, you honestly did, but you also loved your career with the DEA. You both knew that time apart like this was always going to be an eventuality with your jobs but that didn’t make actually being apart any easier.

At first, you both took the distance in stride. You spent late nights on the phone, filling each other in on your days and planning ways that you could fit in trips to visit. He sent care packages with your favorite things from home and you sent him touristy little gifts that he loved. Then you got more and more involved with the drug war here in Colombia and gradually the calls became more spaced out, your job here taking up so much of your life that everything else got pushed to the backburner.

Kevin was a good man, a great one even, but he could be a sensitive man too. You had always known this and in many ways you loved that about him. What you didn’t love was the edge that his voice took on the first time he heard your partner Javier speaking in the background when he had called you during a late night work session at your apartment. And you especially didn’t love the accusations that started after that. It was ugly and the feelings that it caused were equally ugly.

Slowly over the next few months, your work life became chaos and your relationship with Kevin completely crumbled. When you finally ended things, you told him to put your stuff into storage and to stop contacting you. It had hurt but in a way it was a relief too, the work you were completing here was important and you couldn’t afford to be distracted.

A few months after the break up Javier was determined to get you to stop moping and invited you out to drinks with some friends from the Colombian National Police. You had met Major Horacio Carrillo and your life had become a whole lot more complicated.

The sex with Kevin had often been slow and sweet, he was a passionate man and made you feel loved with his every touch. The sex with Horacio though? Mind blowing. The man knew what he wanted and somehow intuitively knew exactly what you wanted as well. He was intense in all aspects of his life and what started as a rebound fling for you quickly became something far more serious.

You had heard the rumors around the office that a new agent was being stationed here but when Kevin had walked through the doors this morning, you had spit your coffee back into your cup mid sip in surprise. He kept things professional but somehow you knew that his being here was anything but. When you worked together all week without him ever trying to bring up your not so distant break up though, you thought maybe you were just being paranoid.

What you hadn’t anticipated was the knock on your apartment door on Friday night while you were making dinner for Horacio. He had made the drive from Medellin to surprise you and you were happy to have him close after such a trying week. At the unexpected knock, his protective side had shown when you had made to move away from the counter and he had insisted on opening the door.

“Can I help you?” He had asked the person standing on the other side of the door and you had almost sliced through your finger when it registered that Kevin was standing in your hallway holding flowers.

For a moment, a tense silence reigns before you watch in horror as Kevin’s face becomes angry.

“I don’t know who YOU are but no you can’t, I didn’t come here to speak to you.”

He locks eyes with you inside the apartment as you move away from the counter, coming up behind Horacio’s tense form and placing a hand on his back.

“Look Kevin, maybe this isn’t a good time to talk. If there’s anything you need to discuss I’m sure we can do it in the office on Monday” you say evenly, trying to diffuse the situation and keep things professional.

He rolls his eyes and tosses the flowers down at your feet then, losing his temper at your response.

“So this is why you left me?” he says incredulously while looking Horacio up and down. “Tell me, were you fucking him the whole time or just when you assured me you were ‘busy’ with work?”

Horacio’s muscles harden beneath your hand and you feel him step forward.

He stares down his nose at Kevin as he backs him away from the doorway and further into the hall.

“I believe she has already told you that you can speak to her on Monday ‘Kevin’” he says in a commanding tone, leaving no doubts about who is in charge in this situation.

When Kevin keeps speaking you are surprised by the anger in his words, his raw pain still evident as he spouts at you over Horacio’s shoulder. When the word whore flies out of his mouth, you should have seen Horacio’s reaction coming a mile off, but you still watch in horror as his fist connects with Kevin’s face.

The fight that happens in the hallway as you try to pull Horacio away from Kevin in vein, draws the attention of most of the building. Javier eventually ends it and tells Kevin he ‘better start packing his fucking bags’ because he will ‘personally make sure he is on a plane home for this shit’.

When all is said and done, you are thoroughly mortified to have had two men fighting over you like cavemen while your coworkers and neighbors watch and you definitely aren’t looking forward to the paperwork that is bound to come your way because of this.

As you ice a bruise on Horacio’s cheek that night though, you drop a kiss onto his brow and murmur a thank you for defending your honor. Kevin may be your past, but you are sure that this is your future.

#horacio carrillo #kevin jimenez #maurice compte #I tried a thing #a little sweet and a little salty #to be clear I love both of these men for different reasons #poor KJ #a part of me reread your ask and now thinks you didn’t mean two maurice characters but oh well you created this monster

[rosemary-morgan]

HC´s - Your first date

(You are in no relationship, but there is clearly love in the air 🖤)

(Please, excuse my mistakes. You know that english isn´t my native language 🙈)

Javier Escuella

How he is preparing:

Javier pays great attention to his appearance. After all, he wants to be the most handsome man for you. His hair is perfect, his mustache perfectly trimmed.

Javier even applies perfume on his skin. But not too much, after all, he wants to smell pleasant.

Javier is in a good mood all day long. The others see from his proud attitude and the constant smile on his face that there is something different about him. But he keeps this sweet secret for himself.

Your date:

Javier will bring you white jasmine. This beautiful flower stands for sweet love. Your story started early. Javier had spent a lot of time with you, flirted with you. You have stolen his heart.

Your tender femininity makes Javier's heart beating like crazy!

With Javier, you go to the lake to enjoy your time together. He wants to impress you with his voice and singing - And of course, he succeeds!

Javier gives you lessons in fishing.

The perfect opportunity to get closer to you!

His hand strokes your arm gently, his hand encloses yours, and your feminine scent is pure sin for him!

Of course, Javier spends a lot of time teaching you something.

After fishing, you will roast the fish on a bonfire. And after your delicious meal, you decide to swim in the lake.

Suddenly and in a very natural way, you will get closer. 

“Mi rosa... I have to confess, that I am very attracted to you!”

Javier doesn't hesitate long after these words but kisses you gently.

His kiss is tender at first, but as soon as he realizes that you like it, he becomes more passionate and you sigh with pleasure - It´s perfect

Artrhur Morgan

How he is preparing:

Arthur is very excited! He's looking forward to this date, but it's been a long time since he last had a date with a woman.

What kind of gift should he bring you?

He will ask Josiah Trelawny for help.

Josiah will help him find the perfect outfit for the first date.

From Josiah, he will also receive some tips on romance and how a gentleman should behave.

Your date:

Arthur brings you flowers that he picked himself from the field. Pink tulips. These stand for love, and the deep affection that Arthur feels for you.

You go on a trip to Strawberry. The area around that place is just beautiful! Blue sky, the most beautiful birds, and crystal clear rivers.

There you have a picnic together. You eat fresh fruit and nuts, drinking wine together.

During the picnic you laugh together, touching each other tenderly. Everything so innocent. Arthur had no idea, but he is good at flirting. He finds the right words to flatter you.

Your first kiss happens when Arthur takes you home on his horse.

He rides very slowly. He wants to enjoy the last few moments he can spend with you.

At some point, Arthur decides to stop in the middle of the road. Your giggle just confirms that you were more than happy with what he was doing. "May I kiss you, darling?" he asked. And without hesitation, you turn your face to him, looking deep into his incredibly beautiful eyes before your lips touch tenderly.

You will remember this beautful day for a long time.

John Marston

How he is preparing:

John is a little nervous. He wants to do everything right.

Finally! A day without the curious eyes of the other gang members! Only you and him alone!

He can't wait to spend his time with you! He is in a fantastic mood, and some of the gang members are wondering if John accidentally drank his tea with the wrong herbs this morning.

Of course, John thinks that it is none of the others' business, why he is so happy.

He won´t say a single word.

John puts on his usual clothes.

Your date:

John also doesn´t forget to bring your flowers.

He brings you yellow gerberas. He wants to tell you that your presence is a light for him. Everything becomes more beautiful through you, and he enjoys being with you.

You go out for a ride together

You compete. The winner can wish for what he or she wants.

John will do everything to win this competition! As a winner, he wants a kiss from your sweet lips.

But you win the race!

But with your victory, it suddenly starts to rain heavily, yet it doesn't stop you from getting your prize from John.

You look up at him, the summer rain soaked you both completely - It is very erotic and exciting. "I won, Marston." "Is that so?" He chuckles softly, and you reach for his wet shirt, pulling him closer. "I'll get my price!"

Your kiss surprises John, but he doesn't hesitate for a moment to return your tenderness. He places his arms around your delicate body, and in the rain, you kiss passionately.

Charles Smith

How he is preparing:

Charles is very relaxed.

He doesn't plan what to say or what to do to impress you. Everything will happen naturally.

He knows that he will have a good time with you. And you know about his quiet, reserved nature.

Charles bought white lilies for you. These white flowers symbolize his undoubted love for you. So it also stands for purity and innocence.

Charles is completely mesmerized by you.

Your date:

You go to Amabrino - Grizzlies East.

It is one of the most beautiful and quietest places Charles knows. The mountains, the crystal clear lakes, and rivers are very beautiful.

Here in the mountains, you have a picnic together. You talk about your past, about your wishes, and Charles opens up to you, telling you about his life.

Charles and you become very close. Here and there, gentle touches and soft flirting.

Your charming smile fills his heart with joy.

Charles made a flower crown or you. 

"Charles, it´s beautiful!" "Not half as beautiful as you are, Y/N." Hearing his calm and gentle voice was the most beautiful melody for your ears.

When Charles puts the crown on you, he leans forward and kisses your cheek tenderly. But even this strong-willed man can´t resist your sweet lips - He brings your hearts together with a gentle kiss.

Josiah Trelawny

How he is preparing:

Josiah is a self-confident man, yet he is very nervous to meet such a wonderful lady like you!

He dresses as always very noble. Josiah wants to be the most handsome man for you.

Josiah arranges everything for a perfect date. 

Your date:

Josiah has a bouquet of red roses for you. He is in love with you, and he adores you!

Josiah takes you to one of the most elegant restaurants in Saint-Denis.

You sit together on the terrace, and during your dinner, you can see the beautiful lights of the city.

You have never had dinner at this quality before! And you've never tried a more noble wine like this one - just delicious!

Josiah looks you in the eye all the time. Your eyes were full of love and affection while he´s holding your hands.

After that delicious dinner, he will take you to a carriage to show you Saint-Denis by night.

Suddenly, while you are sitting in the carriage, it starts to snow. Nobody knew where this snow came from, but it is so romantic!

"Are you cold, my dear?" You don´t need to answer him, because he is a gentleman, and he knows what to do.

He lovingly puts his coat over your shoulders, and you immediately snuggle against the charming magician.

When you looked up at him, and your eyes sparkling like two stars, Josiah couldn't help but kiss your pretty lips...

#javier escuella #javier escuella x female reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female reader #john marston #john marston x female reader #charles smith #charles smith x female reader #josiah trelawny #josiah trelawny x female reader #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #headcanons #fanfiction #love #romance #first date

[fundielicious-simblr]

For personality, 3 and 9! For background, 2 and 3. For relationships, 2. And for fun facts, 16 and 17 :) You can pick whichever sim you like!

This is gonna be a LONG one, so grab your popcorn and get ready to scroll 

ooo I think I might pick the first 6 sims from the ‘heir’ family, so I’ll do from Adalynn to Reece - let’s also assume that they’ve already mentioned reading the Bible/devotionals etc because to write it down 6 times would be hella repetitive.

Personality

[3] What are their hobbies and interests? Do they have any particular “favorites” (food, books, and so on)?

Adalynn - One of her favourite hobbies is to play the piano, but with 5 children she doesn’t get to do it as much as she’d like. She also loves spending time out in the yard cultivating her different plants and flowers, when she lived at home she and macie were in charge of their large garden, and now she mainly focuses on growing fruits and vegetables that her family can eat, she’s hoping to one day add a beehive for fresh honey but for now she’s happy with what she’s got.

Barrett - He’s interested in any kind of handiwork, while living at home it was him that maintained different items around the home that needed to be upgraded. Fishing is also a great love of his, probably his favourite, for a while he worked on a fishing boat, but when he and Kyleigh had the triplets he changed jobs to one that would pay more and was more safe.

Macie - Her absolute favourite hobbies are cooking and gardening, she cooks all of the meals for the family and enjoys experimenting with things grown in the garden. She loves taking care of babies whenever she has the chance, which with the family she’s got means there’s always a baby for her to take care of. 

Zoe - Zoe’s absolute favourite hobby is to sing and make music, in-game her character autonomously sits at the piano to play music all the time so I think it fits her personality well. She also spends time writing music, so she’ll read books on music theory from time to time.

Maggie - She took her favourite hobby and turned it into a career, she’s been into photography since she was young but prefers to take more editorial pieces that let her be as creative as she wants. With encouragement from Shane (her husband) she’s gotten more into fantasy series that I imagine are popular in the sims that she never had exposure to as a child (think Divergent series, the Hunger Games trilogy, and the Twilight Saga for true teen cringe)

Reece - Like Maggie, he also took his favourite hobby/interest and turned it into a career, when he’s not working on his freelance programming jobs he’s working on an app. It’s a personal project that he enjoys doing to destress when work get’s a little too much. In my head he’s also going to dabble in robotics, so that’ll appear some time in game.

[9] What are they most afraid of?

For this one, let’s assume they’ve all said “other than going to hell” because again, that shit gets repetitive real quick. Even these are pretty repetitive since its normal for people to be scared of losing loved ones.

Adalynn - Something going wrong during pregnancy or birth, the delivery with Joshua (#5) went wrong and could have ended very badly. The issue with Adalynn is that it’s been put into her head that home births are the best thing, so while she’s afraid of something going wrong, she’ll need her husband Mason to step in and let her know that she has other options.

Barrett - Something happening to his wife Kyleigh in labour and him having to care for their (right now) 9 children. So far the various births of their children have been fine, but there’s always a chance of something happening. There’s also the fear of something happening to someone in his family like his parents and siblings.

Macie - Deep down she’s afraid she’s never going to find someone to marry, she’s in the sims equivalent of her 30s with no man in sight. There’s also the fear of something happening to her family, they are her everything so she hates to imagine something bad happening.

Zoe - Other than losing her family, it would be losing her ability to sing. It’s one of the non-familial things that brings her joy.

Maggie - Losing control of her life, growing up everything she did was dictated, and now that she has more freedom to make her own decisions she’d hate to lose it.

Reece - Reece is scared of becoming a horrible person, he saw with Stacie’s dad and (in less extreme cases) other men how easy it is for power to get to someones head and for them to hurt the ones they’re suppose to love. Men are given all the power and can run wild with reckless abandon at the expense of their family, and Reece would hate to put his family in that position. 

background

[2] What’s their family like?

These 6 are all siblings, so I’ll do one large group answer and try and get all the perspectives in. Their family is a large, very conservative, fundamentalist family with links to many others who believe the same things as them. Their grandfather was a well known politician so they grew up knowing that they were related to someone great, but they never experienced the wealth that one would think comes with having famous family. In their childhoods they experienced a working class/lower middle class lifestyle due to their father not having a full time job other than being a pastor. The older girls took on the brunt of the child rearing as they aged and as a result have more of a mother/child bond with some of their younger siblings, and when a girl gets married there is a lot of tears when they move away. Their parents have your classic fundamentalist christian relationship, their father is the head of the family, under him is their mother, and lastly is them; their mother defers to their father on all decisions, but in this case she realised early on that she has domination of how the home is run and therefore has a bit of leeway to subtlety get what she wants. The children were to obey their parents immediately and without hesitation, so as they grew up, got married, and were able to make their own rules - some struggled with the new found freedom whilst others flourished. With 13 children there’s a lot of personalities and not everyone gets along 100% of the time, so there’s a lot of effort put forward for them all to get along as they’re always seeing each other. 

[3] What factions or organizations are they a part of? What ranks and titles do they hold?

oo this is interesting cause this is something you’ll see more of in a series I'll be introducing in a bit, but for now I’ll explain their ‘leanings’.

Adalynn - She and her husband Mason are like their parents and remain very conservative Fundamentalists (skirts only, homeschooling their children etc), they also practice the quiverfull (QF) lifestyle and abstain from family planning as they feel God will bless them with however many he sees fit for them. Their parents (and Adalynn’s grandparents I guess) joined an organization called the ‘Centre for Learning and Life’ (CFLL) and attend many homeschool conferences arranged by the organization for those who use their materials. Due to the connections they gained as a result of her grandfather, several members of her family (including her parents) are asked to speak at events on their different areas of speciality. She and her husband actually met at a conference.

Barrett - he and his wife Kyleigh are also like their parents and remain very conservative Fundamentalists (skirts only, homeschooling their children etc), they too practice the quiverfull (QF) lifestyle and abstain from family planning as they feel God will bless them with however many he sees fit for them.Their parents joined an organization called the ‘Centre for Learning and Life’ (CFLL) and attend many homeschool conferences arranged by the organization for those who use their materials - these two also met at a conference that they attended with their families.

Macie - Macie is still unmarried and therefore lives at home. She has the same viewpoint as her parents and older siblings, and should she marry she would live the life her parents did. She attends conferences with her parents, and now is even asked to speak to encourage girls on the value of purity and modesty. 

Zoe - Right now, Zoe and her husband Francisco fall into the category of fundamentalist, but not necessarily QF. They’re both against hormonal birth control, but have been looking into Natural Family Planning as after the birth of their son Javier Jr, Zoe would like to change things up and have more of a chance to plan things out. Zoe still does attend some homeschool conferences when she can, but now her priorities are different.

Maggie - Maggie and her husband Shane are conservative christians, they’re more secular than her immediate family but still conservative enough in comparison to the average sim.

Reece - Reece and Stacie are technically fundamentalists as that is the stance of the church they attend, but in their home they don’t subscribe to every single belief in an orthodox way (see personality Q9 for the reason why) They’re open to children, but with Stacie’s health issues being a factor they’re happy as long as everyone is healthy.

Relationships

What’s their friend group like? What role do they play in it?

Adalynn - Her main friend group are her sisters Macie and Zoe, as well as her sister in law Kyleigh. She doesn’t have much time for socialization but is friendly with the ladies at church and loves fellowshipping before and after a service. With her sisters, Adalynn’s role is the motherly one I guess, always there to lend a listening ear and be a shoulder to cry on. She’s the oldest and has therefore done the most emotional labour on behalf of her siblings. 

Barrett - He’s close with his brothers (despite the age gap), his male cousins close in age to him, and his brothers-in-law. Sometimes a group of them will plan a fishing trip, or a hiking trip, or even just plan to go to the gym together. As the oldest boy, a lot of them look up to him for advice on different things.

Macie - Her closest friend in proximity to her right now is her mother, but she’s also got a great bond with her sister’s Adalynn and Zoe. They formed a strong bond over the course of their childhood, which continues to be strong even after her sisters got married and moved away. Macie’s role amongst her sisters was to always be the voice of reason in terms of the proper way things should be done, she’s also always willing to do something to help someone even if it is a detriment to herself.

Zoe - Zoe is close to her sisters mentioned above, and is now slowly forming a friend group of other military wives whose husbands are deployed in the same area that she is. Amongst her sisters, Zoe is the one to try her hardest to cheer someone up when they’re upset, and it always recommending them something that all cheer them up.

Maggie - Maggie has found a group of girls at her church and at her work that she gets along great with, her gregarious personality means that she’s always making people laugh and can crack joke after joke without pausing to take a breath. Maggie is also close to her sisters, but she’s closest to Macie as they were together a lot growing up, she’s close to her younger sisters as well and also takes on the role of joker in that friend group.

Reece - Reece is close to his brothers and his cousins, his easy going personality means that he can insert himself into any friend group and get along with most people. His quiet yet thoughtful nature means that people can ask him for advice and get thoughtful and helpful answers.

Fun Fact

[16] Which Deadly Sin do they most correspond to? Which Heavenly Virtue?

oo this is interesting, let me pull them up and workout who is who

Adalynn - Sin: Gluttony - She really should've stopped having children like 2 kids ago, but here she is pregnant with kids 6&7 // Virtue: Patience --> She’s honed her patience after years of caring for her siblings and now her children.

Barrett - Sin: This one was a toss up between lust (9 children with idea how many more in the future) and gluttony (having too many damn children) // Virtue: Diligence - He’s willing to put in whatever work is needed to feed his family.  

Macie - Sin: Envy - She’s jealous of all her siblings finding love whilst she’s single // Virtue: Chastity - she loved the extreme modesty rules her parents set in an effort to remain pure, and as a result teaches others about said rules.

Zoe - Sin: Pride - Zoe is talented and she knows it, she’s been praised for her talent since she was a child meaning she’s well aware of her skills // Virtue: Kindness - She truly is really nice, her sim in game has some of the best relationships with other people and a great reputation.

Maggie - Sin: Envy - Maggie spent her childhood envious of other people with more freedom than her to do what she couldn't, she was so envious that she married barely out of high school to make her own rules. // Virtue: Liberality - Maggie is always giving to charity and wants to spend her own money on her own choices, with charities being one of them.

Reece - Sin: Wrath - this is purely from when he and Stacie were still getting to know each other and he had to keep himself from whooping Stacie’s dads ass for being a dunderhead. // Virtue: Diligence - like his brother, he’s willing to do anything necessary for his family.

There was also 17 - but I have literally 0 experience with tarot cards 😂

WHEW this was a lot, but like I said, I enjoy doing these - as I was writing I literally added in somethings that I felt just matched the sims personality, so I have to go update the google doc 😂

[wannabecowpoke]

The House You Promised Me

TITLE: The House You Promised Me

RATING: Teen

PAIRINGS: minor or background relationships, including Dutch/Molly, Karen/Sean (referenced), and Arthur/Eliza (past)

WARNINGS: vague discussions of sexy times, mild cursing

DESCRIPTION: The Blackwater Ferry Heist was a success, and, stuck in Colter for the time being, Arthur spends a quiet, cold morning with his family.

xX————————————————Xx

Taking a long drag of his cigarette, Arthur combed his fingers absentmindedly through his son’s tussled brown curls, staring out at the snowy valley spread out before them. Isaac snoozed against his chest, the eleven year old exhausted from both their hasty journey up north and from staying up late. waiting for Arthur to get back from amother hunting trip with Charles that lasted longer than they’d intended. The boy had come out to join Arthur for his early morning smoke, falling asleep against his chest, and Arthur had pulled him close, trying to protect him from the cold.

Money in their pockets, Pearson’s wagon stocked, and with plenty of medicine and alcohol for everyone in camp, they were prepared to spend awhile in the mountains waiting for both the snow to melt and for the law to lose their trail. Arthur could tell that everyone was eager to leave regardless, especially after John’s unfortunate incident with the wolves, but he knew how important it was to get themselves well and truly lost before trying to head out west.

The door creaked open behind them, and Arthur turned around to see Eliza, her shawl pulled tightly around her shoulders and a scarf wrapped around her throat and ears. She smiled at him warmly, coming to sit down next to them, although she didn’t try moving Isaac, and he nodded at her, noticing the cup of coffee cradled in her hands. If she was already having it, then he assumed that Hosea was up, too, having his own cup indoors.

“So we’re all finally settling down,” Eliza sighed, sounding pleased. The decision to join the gang had been a difficult one for her, but their recent talks of purchasing land out west had her hoping that she could finally raise their son like she’d originally wanted to. She nudged him in the side with her elbow, looking at him slyly. “Isaac’s really excited, you know.”

“It was hard for him, leaving Nebraska,” Arthur agreed.

“Even if this life is hard, I knew you could protect us better than we could protect ourselves up there,” Eliza said. It’d been with reluctance that she’d agreed to join the gang after a robbery had nearly left them both dead. He’d been happy to have them closer, even if the letter she’d sent him explaining what’d happened had left him a trembling, crying mess over the possibility of losing them both. “Anyways, everything worked out in the end. We’re settling down, and you’re staying with your family.”

Arthur chuckled, taking another puff of his cigarette. Eliza snatched it from between his fingers when he pulled it away from his lips, placing it between her own. “Never thought we’d be homesteaders,” Arthur mused, plucking the coffee from her hands, “although with how large our gang’s becoming, I figured we’d have to put down roots eventually.”

“I could tell that you’ve always yearned for it,” Eliza admitted, smoke spilling from between her lips as she spoke. Arthur sipped at the coffee, the warm liquid almost scalding as he swallowed it down. “You were engaged to marry that Mary Gillis, and you would’ve married me, if we could’ve.”

His loyalty to Dutch had always surpassed everything else, but he’d wanted a family of his own since he’d met Mary. Then she’d rescinded on their engagement, and he’d been careless and gotten Eliza pregnant in the miserable period afterwards. He might have married her, if she hadn’t insisted that it was a bad idea. “Someday real soon,” Arthur promised her, “our boy’s gonna’ have his own bedroom, and we’ll send him to a proper school.”

“I don’t doubt you for a second, Arthur Morgan,” Eliza teased, walking away with his cigarette towards the building that he knew held the other girls and the older members of their gang.

There was that widow, too, the Missus’ Adler they’d picked up from a homestead up north, and an O’Driscoll they’d taken captive and were holding in the barn. Boadicea was still resting after a nasty gunshot wound to the thigh that, while not lethal, would keep her from being ridden for awhile yet, and he’d taken a stallion to use until she was fit for service again. They had more mouths to feed, and it was good that Pearson had enough time to pack all of their provisions, or else they’d be critically low on food supplies.

“We’re almost home, son,” Arthur mumbled, pressing his nose into the crown of his son’s head. Isaac stirred, but didn’t awaken, making a noise of protest in the back of his throat that made Arthur smile wider. He was all gangly limbs and wide, blue eyes, and he could already tell that he was probably going to be as tall as him, with his strong jaw and broad shoulders. “We’ll be there soon.”

The snow was starting up again, so as gently as he could, he placed the empty coffee tin onto the ground and slipped his arms underneath Isaac’s legs and shoulders, lifting him up and keeping him pressed close to his chest. He was easy to carry, but he used to weigh next to nothing, and Arthur knew it’d be only a short time before he’d be unable to lift him anymore. It was easy to forget that his son was growing up quickly.

Shouldering open the door to the wooden shack they were staying in, Hosea winked at him from his place by the hearth, a smile twisting his lips. The door to Dutch and Molly’s bedroom was closed, and Arthur knew they were probably sleeping in after celebrating the successes of the past week. “Eliza wondered where you two wandered off,” Hosea said, laughter in his words. Arthur hadn’t seen him look so relaxed in years. “He has the same restless feet as you do.”

“I suppose,” Arthur said softly, shifting his son in his arms so that his head lolled forwards to rest against his chest. The smile curling Hosea’s lips widened, his eyes softening as he watched them. “These past few days have been hard on him, though. I think he’s missed me while I’ve been running around.”

“You’re his father,” Hosea agreed, shrugging. Bending forwards, he refilled his cup of coffee, and Arthur was left wondering if he should try restricting his intake before he gave himself heart palpitations again. “He was worried that you wouldn’t be coming back.”

Arthur’s heart twisted in guilt, and he huffed to disguise his remorse, shuffling as quietly as he could towards their small, shared bedroom. “The kid’s got nothin’ to worry about.”

Pushing through the door, he stepped past his bedroll to set Isaac down on the bed he that was temporarily stuck sharing with his mother. One of them should probably be sleeping on the floor with Arthur, but even sleeping together in the bed was more comfortable than that, so they’d been huddling together through the cold, snowy nights.

Even though he’d been quiet, Isaac still blinked open his blue eyes, staring up at him as his lips curled upwards into a small grin. “Morning, pa’,” he mumbled, closing his eyes again and tugging his blanket up towards his chin as he shifted onto his stomach. Arthur felt his own lips twitch upwards at the sight, and he kneeled down next to the bed to card his fingers through his hair, rubbing just behind his ear. “Are we leaving, yet?”

“Tomorrow, so long as this good weather holds,” Arthur assured him. If they hadn’t been so successful during their heist in Blackwater, maybe they would’ve tried stealing Colm’s score, but they had enough money that whatever they made doing the train heist would be paltry. “You eager to move somewhere with warmer weather?”

Isaac hummed, nodding. He didn’t say anything else, and Arthur pressed a kiss to the back of his head before standing up, ruffling his hair and leaving the room. Hosea saluted him as he left the building, brown eyes twinkling, and Arthur headed towards the building where the men were sleeping.

“Morgan,” Bill snapped, repeater in hand as he stood guard at the scout fire.

“Hey, Bill,” Arthur said, patting him on the shoulder. The man softened at the warm greeting, always bristly until the other person showed they weren’t going to antagonize him. “You got early morning guard?”

“Drew the short straw,” Bill grumbled.

Chuckling, Arthur shook his head. “At least you’re turning in early tonight. We’ll be traveling for awhile.”

“Sure,” Bill said, “see ya’, Morgan.”

Pushing through the door, the room smelled like cigarettes and Pearson’s signature meat stew, which consistently smelled significantly better than it tasted. Lenny waved in greeting, smiling warmly at him, while Javier and Mac just nodded in acknowledgement.

Micah huffed, rolling his eyes at his appearance. “So the hero of Blackwater returns to gloat.”

“Oh, shaddup!” Sean crowed, throwing up his hands in frustration. Arthur had to bite back the amused smile that tugged at his lips. “You’re just jealous he fixed your mess for ya’, asshole.”

Raising his hands in surrender, Micah looked heavenwards. “There ain’t any jealously here,” he sighed placatingly, tapping the ashes off of the cigar pinched between his fingers. Taking another drag or it, he puffed out the smoke, most of it clouding in Javier’s face. “Just patiently waiting for this snowstorm to end so we can go our separate ways.”

“And whatever happened to your loyalty to Dutch?” Mac asked wryly, raising a red eyebrow. He’d stopped sleeping after Davey had gotten shot, not leaving his bedside, but since he’d awoken, he’d taken to bunking with the other men again. “Used ta’ talk so fondly about him.”

“Hey,” Micah said, “the boss knows I’m not keen to settle down just yet.”

“I know how much you want to earn your noose,” Javier quipped, a smirk twisting his lips. He’d always been a fan of riling people up, even if it was against his own best interest. Bill and Micah were his favorite targets, the former for his idiocy, and the latter because of his generally disagreeable personality.

Micah’s jaw clenched. “We’ll see who’s laughing when I put a bullet in a Colm O’Driscoll’s head.”

“Ya’ see, Morgan,” Sean said amusedly, standing up and gesturing with his hands as he spoke, “Micah here thinks he can become the most infamous gunslinger in the history of the country, ruling over this part of the country with a gang of bloodthirsty outlaws in a manner not unlike Colm O’Driscoll!”

Arthur scoffed, shaking his head. “We’ll see about that.”

Stubbing out his cigar, Micah stood abruptly, stalking outside. The atmosphere got noticeably lighter after he’d left, everyone relaxing once the door had closed behind him. Micah was a man that only Dutch liked, and that was because he sucked up to him. None of them would ever openly question Dutch’s decision in letting him stay, but that didn’t mean they had to like him.

“I’ll be glad when that bastard’s gone for good,” Lenny sighed, and Arthur chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Well, boys,” Sean said, collapsing back into his chair, “we’ve made it!”

“You finally planning on courting Karen when we settle down?” Lenny asked, tilting his head.

“And when are you planning on making a move on Jenny?” Sean retorted, ignoring the question. When Lenny spluttered, fumbling for an answer, he laughed boisterously, slapping his knee. “Yeah, exactly!”

“If you’re gonna’ keep fuckin’ her,” Mac grumbled, uncorking another bottle of whiskey to add to the growing collection of bottles on the floor, “at least have the decency to do it away from the rest of us. I haven’t gotten decent rest in the two years since she joined.”

“Hey,” Sean protested, “you’re just jealous because you can’t get any action.”

That got a blush to rise up on Mac’s cheeks. “Just have some feckin’ sympathy for the rest of us,” he grumbled, running a hand through his short red hair. The stubble on his chin would be gone as soon as they unpacked the shaving mirror, Arthur knew, and when Mac mused up his hair, it made him look even more uncharacteristically disgruntled. Out of all the boys in camp, he was probably the cleanliest, besides maybe Javier and Dutch.

“It’s hard to believe that soon, we’ll be farmers out west,” Javier sighed, thankfully changing the subject. Moving forwards, he nudged his elbow against Arthur’s side, raising a dark eyebrow. “Most of us haven’t had a day of honest labor in our lives. It’ll be hard to adjust.”

“I’ve worked on a ranch before,” Arthur drawled. His experience was mostly odd jobs for extra cash, and one occasion where Hosea had been running a con that necessitated him to work on one for a few weeks, but he knew most of the basic skills. “It ain’t too difficult.”

“Maybe I’ll get to attend a proper university,” Lenny said dreamily, leaning on his palm. The boy had talked before about how he wanted to pursue a career in law, but besides Hosea, none of them thought he’d ever get the chance to actually get a higher education. “There are some good law schools out west that’ll accept black folks. There’s even one for women, out in Annely.”

“Mary-Beth would like that,” Arthur added. Patting Javier on the back, he waved, stepping towards the door. “I’m gonna’ go check on the others, now. Try not to kill each other while I’m gone.”

“What about Micah?” Sean asked jokingly.

“Well, if you shot him,” Arthur sighed, “I suppose it wouldn’t be entirely your fault.”

#homestead au #fluff #rdr2 #fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #fanfiction #karen jones x sean macguire #dutch van der linde x molly o’shea #maybe part of a larger series #arthur morgan #rdr2 eliza #isaac morgan #hosea matthews #lenny summers #micah bell #sean macguire #mac and davey callander #javier escuella #bill williamson #canon divergent #spoilers #everyone lives in this one

[gingernastyy]

OOOU i saw your headcanons were open!! you’re an amazing writer and i love your characterization :) uhh do you got any fluffy headcanons to share for john/bonnie? if you want of course! again, wonderful writer you are!!! have a blessed day friend 💖😌✨

After the end of the gang John, outside of Dutch and what he taught him, really doesn’t know who he is. He doesn’t know what he wants in life, or what he aspires to do. 

He kind of just follows what others want, sometimes for better or worse. In this case it’s building the house and barn that Abigail wanted. He feels guilty for how poor of a father he has been and feels he’s obligated, but also genuinely wants to help both Abigail and Jack in any way that he can.

It was more of Abigail’s dream to have the farm, but it gave him a sense of purpose. He enjoys the ranch life, it’s the busy work he misses from the gang.

Over the years, John and Abigail realize their feelings for each other- or in other words, the lack of romantic feelings for each other.

With Sadie being back in their life, healing from the stab wound in her side from hunting down Micah, Abigail becomes aware of the deep love she has for her. Maybe it was always just the forced pressure of others why she felt she needed a husband and the pressure of them having a kid together that made her feel she had to be with John. Sadie, Abigail and John have a long conversation about how they feel for each other. They come to the conclusion that though John and Abigail love each other it’s more in a platonic and friendship type of way.

Sadie quits the bounty hunting business. She teases the both of them about giving her the family bug but she is happy as all can be with Abigail. She had a bit of ranching under her belt from the time that she and Jake were together so she and Abigail continue working the ranch with Jack.

The four of them live together for a while, getting the ranch up and running. Sadie and Abigail, a happy couple and the three of them work to raise Jack together, John and Sadie working day after day to keep the ranch going. John and Abigail still present themselves as married to the public, to protect her and Sadie’s relationship. 

Everything goes pretty smoothly until the consequences from finding Micah catches up with them. When the Bureau of Investigation takes Jack and Abigail, it’s both John and Sadie that work on figuring out how to get them back. All the time he took to get out of the life he gets roped back into having to hunt down Bill, Javier, and Dutch. He’s not exactly smart about it, he’s not proud of going up to Fort Mercer and getting shot.

He’s grateful that Amos and Miss Macfarlane find him when they do or he’s sure he would have bled to death.

It seems that whenever John is bed ridden,  he wakes up to a pretty lady watching over him. As wonderful as that it is he would like to not be mauled by wolves or shot in the gut in order to see them. He also hates that the first time he meets Miss Macfarlane he’s in such an unpleasant position.

Right as he’s waking up she’s bombarding him with questions about what he was doing at Fort Mercer, how he knows Bill Willamson and in the same breath calling him an idiot. He likes her immediately. 

When John gets the chance he sends a telegram to Sadie. Explain what happened to Abigail and Jack but leaves out the part about him being injured. It’s harder than getting a dog away from a bone for John to tell Sadie she should stay back and take care of the farm while he handles the situation. There’s nothing more threatening to him than, even though it is only the text read from a telegram, Sadie saying “I don’t care what you have to do, you go get my wife back John Marston.” 

Unfortunately, until he’s healed he can’t focus on getting them back. But in the meantime, while he’s healing he grows quite fond of Miss Macfarlane and is a farmhand for her. She teases him more than any woman he knows but… he kind of likes it, keeps him on his toes. He certainly gives her plenty of things to tease him for.

John’s not always been the best with words, so when he’s explaining the situation he’s in to Bonnie he might have led her to believe he was actually married. It’s habit for him at this point, to protect Abigail and because he had been living for years believing he would marry her one day. It’s not exactly an issue until he’s been openly flirting with Bonnie. She puts her foot down and confronts him, poking him in the chest, “I ain’t that kind of woman John Marston so you need to quit that.” He knows he’s being scolded but he’s pretty sure he falls in love with her right there. John stumbles over his words and does his best to explain his situation with Abigail and Jack to make it clear that he’s not being unfaithful. But that just leaves them to stand there flustered because he was flirting with her and Bonnie might have let slip that she was attracted to John and enjoyed his advances but had been upset because she believed him to be married. 

They might avoid each other for a little after that but if you asked them, they would deny it. John just got caught up with helping Marshal Johnson and Bonnie had the ranch to worry about. 

They’re only able to avoid each other for a few days, John did need to work back the money he’d cost them and they missed each other. Bonnie asks John to walk the perimeter with her in the evening, which was clearly an excuse be he ain’t gonna turn her down. She tells him her father is real fond of John, “says your good husband material I believe is how he phrased it.” Drew finds John hardworking, reliable, and he appreciates his philosophies. “Thinks you’re much rather suited for me than any other farmer he’s met.” 

John of course laughs, from the shock of it all and because he’d never thought someone would consider him husband material. As they head back to the house, John flusters Bonnie with his reply, “While marriage seems a little fast, I do appreciate having your father’s approval. But more importantly, do I have yours?” 

John falls a little harder as he sees her pretend to think it over, “I ain’t decided yet,” but she’s grinning so big at him. 

Every night after that John sees her off to bed, standing at the bottom of the porch stairs, wanting nothing more than to follow her inside but trying to somewhat take things slow, he takes his hat off and says real soft and sweet, “Goodnight Miss McFarlane.” Bonnie of course rolls her eyes at him and tells him to just call her Bonnie already, “I swear you’re such a gentleman it’s annoying.” John laughs in that way that makes Bonnie smile back and want to kiss him forever. “You’re the first person to ever tell me that,” 

John keeps working around the farm, playfully asking Bonnie if he’s got that $15 covered from his doctor visit. She likes to pull the “hmm not yet, there’s plenty more work for you to do” and he responds with fake disappointment, “guess I’ll just have to stick around longer then,” all while smiling and winking at her. And maybe sometimes they end up holding each other and kissing for a little too long but who can really say? 

After John helps with the barn fire, he asks if Bonnie would be willing to send some cattle to Beechers Hope after he’s finished. He plans to get some cattle for the farm for Abigail and Sadie, almost as a housewarming gift for them. He also brings up in that moment that he’s been thinking of gathering some of his things and bringing them to stay with her. 

To say Bonnie was traumatized after everything with Bill Williamson’s gang would be an understatement, but she isn’t alone and John reminds her of that. Bonnie’s always had to be strong and independent, so she tries to keep it in and hide it from John but he won’t have that. He sits with her during late nights, after nightmares and when she’s too tense to sleep. He opens up to her about his own trauma, specifically the hanging from when he was a kid. They were already close but after that, they feel an even deeper bond. After one emotional talk, Bonnie opens up about how afraid she was, John sharing the same fear, he tells her he loves her. 

When John has to go to Mexico, he sweeps Bonnie off her feet and pulls her into a kiss. Anything could happen as he goes after Javier so he makes sure to kiss her before he goes. It’s a habit he develops every time he leaves to go somewhere.

Abigail and Sadie both insist joining John in his trip to McFarlane’s Ranch after they get settled back in, taking corn with as a thank you and because they want nothing more than to meet the woman who’s got John Marston so flustered.

John discovers a new ring of hell with all three of them together to torment him and he expresses as much but really he’s smiling and to see the smile on Bonnie’s face is all worth it. He knows she loves him. 

Sadie elbows him at some point, both of them watching Bonnie and Abigail chat away, and smirks at him, “She’s real cute, I can see why you got that dumb look all the time.” He of course tells her to fuck off as she laughs and laughs. 

Abigail and Bonnie like each other a lot, Bonnie respects Abigail immensely and Abigail believes Bonnie is good for John, will keep him in line because god knows he could get into some trouble. 

Bonnie pokes at John when she finds out that he doesn’t know how to swim. She questions him on how he is supposed to teach Jack if he doesn’t know how to swim and how does a grown man not know how to swim. She drops the teasing when she realizes that John is insecure about it and insists that she will teach him. John pulls a whole “not worth it or I’m not teachable” excuse with her and she returns with a “Oh are you just going to turn down my feminine charm and seeing me wet in swimwear?” It sure convinces John to get into the water. Bonnie is the only lady he knows that would still find him attractive after seeing him flailing as he tries to swim. He admits to her that it ain’t too bad but can’t help but still feels like a cat to water. 

Even though they’re living together and really running the ranch together, John reminds Bonnie and everyone else that it is her ranch and he’s there to support her in any way he can. 

Whenever John misplaces his hat, Bonnie is always the one who can find it. She says he’d lose his head if it wasn’t attached and kisses him as she places his hat back onto his head.

Bonnie is usually the one to wake up first but the rare times that John wakes before her he kisses his fingers and places it on her forehead or cheek. He doesn’t know how to put into words on how much he loves her.

At the end of their work day they talk and watch the sunset together. Bad days and sometimes even the good days they have a few drinks while they talk. Depending on what they are doing, there’s times that they don’t see each other until sundown. It’s not just chicken and cow talk, or just talk about the ranch, they bring up what they want to do the next day or what if they took a day trip somewhere. Amos and the other farmhands surely can handle the ranch for just one day.

They rebuild the barn together, John telling her about the first barn he’d built. Maybe he’s crazy but he swears, there’s a Bluejay sitting near and watching him this time too. 

If Bonnie stares at John a little longer than probably appropriate while he’s working without a shirt, she’d never admit it and maybe John would stretch and show off a little when he catches her staring. 

John and Bonnie get married in front of the barn at sundown, Hennigan's Stead was always gorgeous in the evening. Abigail, Sadie, and Jack are all there of course and they all spend the night laughing and talking together, celebrating. 

Every night, Bonnie asks John about a different scar as they lie in bed together. He’s covered in them and after each story he tells, she kisses the scar. She teases him for being an idiot for a lot of them, most of them from his dumb choices. He gets the quietest about the bullet wound in his shoulder. 

Fishing and practicing shooting is what they often do in their free time. Even after being in a gang for years, John thinks Bonnie is better than him when it comes to both. Seems like the years of him being out of the gang has made him a little rusty. At least with fishing he never was too good at it.

John, for the first time in his life feels he found happiness being with Bonnie and running the ranch with her. He’s found his purpose and he wants to hold onto it forever. 

#rdr1 #rdr1 headcanons #John Marston #Bonnie Macfarlane #headcanons #rdr2 #Thank you so much tho! I'm glad you like my writing and I hope you like the way I wrote them! #also shoutout to Kell for reading over and helping me edit this!

[blessed-are-the-peacemakers]

A Little Security (Arthur Morgan/Kieran Duffy)

I saw somebody post about these two a long while ago, and since I think this pairing is actually pretty cute I decided to give it a try. I’m a bit rusty and I did rush a bit at the end, but I still think it’s alright.

This is M/M content. Don’t read if you don’t like it.

There are no other warnings. Enjoy :))

The sun had began to set when Arthur finally made his way back to Horseshoe Overlook, most of the camp already finished with their evening stew and preparing for bed.

Arthur wearily slid off his steed, which towered over the other horses, and hitched him along the horse station while reaching for the heavy bear pelt stowed on his back. The black Shire sighed and watched his human, who nearly strut his way to Peason’s wagon, soaking in the compliments from the awestruck ladies and jealously of the men.

“Oh yeah, sure! Hunt down a monster and make the rest of us look bad!” Shouted Sean, who was no doubt up to his collar in alcohol already. Arthur played along with most of the silly jabs and comments from the gang, but he had to resist looking over his shoulder to the smaller man watching him almost longingly from the backs of the outlaw’s horses.

Arthur finally glanced back, almost aggressively, to Kieran when he set the bear pelt down on the donation table. He squeaked when he noticed his intense gaze, hiding behind Maggie and hurriedly bushing her coat to distract himself from anybody who may have noticed his lingering eyes.

Arthur rolled his eye as he sat on his cot, removing his hat and laying back and closing his eyes.

This had started just recently (at least to Arthur’s knowledge).

Arthur would leave for a few days to hunt, look for leads, or do any other odd job somebody threw at him (anything to avoid breaking Micah out of jail), and during his last few visits back to camp one particular person seemed to be waiting for him, almost like a puppy waiting for his master.

Arthur wouldn’t admit, not even to himself, but he was almost flattered. It was nice to come back to somebody waiting for him. Sure, he was usually greeted by Dutch or Hosea, or even Susan, but they would usually have some sort of mission or chore for him to do. It was nice to have somebody just genuinely  happy to see him alive and well.

Kieran always awaited Arthur, but he could tell he tried to hide it. Though he was still skittish around the outlaw, he would shyly offer to take over whatever chores around camp he needed to do and would sit by him around the campfire if he was alone. He had even prepared him a cup of coffee in the morning. Just once though, because Arthur didn’t like so much cream in his coffee. He wasn’t use to this kind of attention.

Hell, even his horse warmed up to Kieran faster then he did Arthur, which annoyed him a bit, but he did think it was rather adorable to see the big raven black beast nibble and lick Kieran’s hands when he fed him treats.

Wait...No...What was Arthur thinking?

He shook his head, turning over in his cot and suppressing those strange thoughts of the O’Driscoll as he tried to get a moment of sleep.

Though he didn’t rest long.

Not that he fell that deeply into sleep, he still noticed the muffled sound of teeth chattering and familiar miserable whimpers. Without even sitting up, Arthur glanced over to the large stone along the side of camp, a shivering shadow catching his attention.

He didn’t know why he cared so much, but it bothered him that Dutch, or anybody for that matter, hadn’t at least given the boy a blanket or pillow to lay on. He wasn’t a Van Der Linde, of course, but he certainly wasn’t an O’driscoll, and had saved Arthur’s life.

He didn’t deserve to freeze to death at least, Arthur thought. That’s all, surley, as he rose to his feet and made his way other to the sniveling man, taking off his winter coat as he did so.

Kieran didn’t notice him approach at first, too distracted by the cold and his own misery, until Arthur cleared his throat. He froze, glancing over his shoulder to the larger man, only to have a heavy blue coat thrown into his face, Arthur mumbling something along the lines of “Let me know if you get cold, dumbass...” as he trudged away.

Kieran didn’t move for a moment, looking down to the fuzzy coat in his lap dumbly. He looked around the camp to be sure no one was watching, before sliding the poofy coat over his own thinner one.

Though he was much warmer, he didn’t feel safe enough to fall asleep yet. He was almost fearful that this was some sort of prank or test, but it was hard to resist his heavy eyes growing heavy and Arthur’s powerful scent lingering in the air and lulling him to sleep.

~

Arthur awoke earlier then usual the next morning. The morning sky was a bright pink and Charles was just returning from his night watch, Javier taking his place.

As he sat up, he noticed the coat he had given to Kieran now sliding down his chest. He looked back up, Kieran himself dusting off the wooden table in the middle of camp, which had a single cup of coffee and stew waiting for him.

Though he was very thankful for Arthur’s favor, he quickly retreated when he approached the table, leaving to assist the horses and Arthur alone to his breakfast.

He sat alone shortly, however, as Hosea sat across from him a moment later wearing a wide smirk as he watched Arthur eat.

“Uh...Mornin’.”

“Good morning yourself. Sleep well?”

Arthur eyed him suspiciously as he ate another spoonful of stew, which was mostly broth at this point.

“What do you want Hosea?”

“What do you mean? Can’t I wish my son a good morning?”

“Yeah but...You’re acting funny.”

“Me? Funny? I’m not acting nearly as funny as you, or that Duffy fellow.”

“Okay,” Arthur said as he lifted his bowl high and swallowed whatever stew was left. “I’m not doing this.”

“Fair enough, but just remember you’re not as subtle as you think Arthur!” Hosea said, nearly shouting towards the end as Arthur hurried to the other side of the camp, ignoring the confused glances of the other gang members.

Just as he was about to call for his steed, he found Kieran at the edge of camp grooming Arthur’s large horse. This had become somewhat common recently, but what was unusual was Kieran actually turning to Arthur as he approached and walking forward to meet him before he could leave.

Arthur tried to hold a neutral expression as Kieran shakily thanked him for lending him his coat the night before. He couldn’t help but notice how he twiddled his thumbs and how much redder his face was in the moment, or how his posture in general was very similar to a shy teenage boy on a date for the first time.

This would have tickled Arthur if this were under any other circumstance.

He muttered a quick ‘you’re welcome’ as he saddled up but paused before he turned to leave camp.

“You know...if I’m ever away, you can...use my tent...I guess...”

Kieran, who had just began to sulk away back to his chores, turned back to Arthur in disbelief.

“Oh..I...uh...T-Thank you, Mister!”

Arthur really wished he hadn’t thanked him so loudly. He held his head down, hiding his blushing face under his hat as he rode farther away from the smirking outlaws and past a smiling Javier as he rode away from Horseshoe overlook.

~

He considered never going back, the teasing surely never going to end when he returns to camp. ‘Morgan and the O’driscoll’ they’ll say. But he wanted to come back.

And to that very man.

He didn’t know why. He thought it over during his trip for treasure hunting. There wasn’t anything particularly  outstanding about Kieran. He was a sniveling little shit they found shivering in the snow. And when he had the chance to leave, he stayed. He saved Arthur’s life and he stayed, saying he had no where else to go.

Arthur understood that feeling. Even with his belongings and his own tent at camp, he still feels like he doesn’t belong. He feels little more then an errand boy, or a thug at times, only kept around to do the dirty work and put his own cash in the donation box and then excused to do whatever else he does.

He tries to not let it bother him, but he just feel so warm so suddenly when Kieran does give him the little attention he does.

He’s a grown ass man. He doesn’t need someone to brew his coffee for him or bring him his meals, but damn does it make him feel warm when he takes it upon himself to sit by him around the fire, or to care for his steed so carefully.

He hadn’t realized he was so close to camp until Bill’s loud voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Who goes there?”

“Arthur, you dumbass!”

“The hero returns!”

As he rode back into camp, he noticed the lack of an O’driscoll waiting to take the reins of his steed, who angrily stomped his hoof as he waited impatiently by the hitching post.

Arthur slipped him a sugar cube and looked around the camp for Kieran until his eyes landed on Hosea, who seemed to be waiting for their eyes to lock. Before he could comment on the older gentlemen’s smug look, he looked away from Arthur, who followed his gaze the sleeping figure on his cot.

The younger man shifted ever so slightly when Arthur approached his tent, turning over and letting his hand fall off the mattress. The outlaw watched him for a bit, deciding on his next move but somewhat enjoying the sight of the other man sleeping on his bed.

He glanced around camp, suddenly very aware of the other members of camp, before deciding to ignore whatever opinions they may have of the situation and sat on the cot beside Kieran, who began to stir awake.

“Hmm...A-Arthur?”

“Hmm?”

Arthur tried to act casual as he slid off his hat and boots, laying back on the tiny mattress next to Kieran, but there was no hiding his nervousness and darkening cheeks. Kieran sat up and began to panic.“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t realize you would be back tonight! I’ll give you your s-”

Before he could began to beg for his life, Arthur slapped his hand over his mouth and gently pushed him back down to the cot. ‘Shh! Relax will you? It’s fine.”

“B-but...Don’t you want your space?”

“Nah. You don’t take up much room.” He whispered.

“Oh...” Kieran swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. “Aren’t you worried about what the boys will say?”

“Boy, you’ve been here long enough to know a lil bit about what goes on here. I dare them to start any drama.”

Arthur said as he stretched out his arm behind Kieran, who leaned back down and used it as a pillow. Arthur closed his eyes and ignored the silent chatter of the other outlaws who were still awake. He may have heard his name once, but no one questioned him the next day when he decided to sleep in with Kieran, who did try to hide away with the horses. It took a little convincing from Arthur to drag him back to camp to lazily do chores side by side.

Sean or Bill may have made a snide comment, but Arthur threw one right back, and they didn’t bring up what they say again, to Arthur or Kieran. Despite the knowing looks from Charles and John, the only other acknowledgement he got was from the all knowing Hosea, who sat by him when he finally did let Kieran tend to the horses by himself.

Arthur, not being able to drink peacefully with the smirking man by himself, sighed and finally looked over.“Well? What you lookin’ so proud of yourself for?”

“Not of myself. You.”

"But you didn’t help me at all?”

“That’s right. And I didn’t have to. That’s why I’m so proud.”

#what is this ship called lmao? #Arthur Morgan #Kieran Duffy #Red Dead Redemption #Red Dead Redemption 2 #rdr #rdr2 #i also couldn't find any gifs of these two together wtf? #at least any that fit for this story #oh well #arthur x kieran #arthur morgan x kieran duffy #kierthur