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moralesispunk · 1 year

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Tomorrow (Javier Peña x F! Reader)

Summary: It's been a year since you last saw Javi, and one night he shows up at your door

Warnings: reader is a single mum, talk of a previous break up (second chance romance anyone?), tension, as always when I write Javi it is fictional Javi so let's keep it respectful

Word Count: 2.8k

It’s after midnight when the soft knock comes to your door.

It echoes towards where you’re standing in the kitchen, the sound so gentle that it would have been easy to convince yourself it wasn’t for you but rather a visitor at one of your neighbours doors down the hall.

In fact it was so quiet that you didn’t move at the first two knocks, the lid of tupperware that you were in the middle of snapping closed over tonight’s - or as you glance at the clock on the oven reading 12:04 AM correct yourself - last night’s dinner stilling in your hands as you listened again.

Two more knocks, even softer than before but definitely against your apartment door.

You click the lid into place and slide the tub into the fridge while closing the door with your other hand, your slippers scuffing against the laminate flooring as the dull orange light from the kitchen guides you down the hall.

Most, if not all, nights you wouldn’t be best pleased by a knock at the door this late at night, but especially when today had been long enough as it was and all you wanted to do was switch off the lights and climb into bed - probably still half-dressed - to pass out immediately.

It was a day that started with an alarm that didn’t go off followed by a flat tire on the way to work. To make things worse you had forgot your lunch, didn’t have time between meetings to go out and buy something so handed cash into your intern’s hands - the same intern who also lost a box of files that meant you were scrambling to close out a case - and they had returned with the one sandwich you had begged them not to get you, only managing two mouthfuls before it was thrown in the bin. You were practically running out of the office to pick up Sofia from school on time, burning dinner as you tried to make it while simultaneously getting her ready for dance class; a class that was actually a dress-rehearsal you had forgotten about until walking into the hall where one of the other mums took Sofia from you, gave you a pat on the arm so gentle you could have cried, and let you run home to pack all her dresses and make it back in time for her first dance.

By the time you got home and Sofia was bathed and in bed, it was an hour past her usual bedtime and you still had everything else to do around the apartment which left you packing away leftovers at midnight. You had been praying between spooning the meatballs into the tub and washing down the pot that Sofia would - for the first time in months - want to lie in on a Saturday rather than wake you up at her usual 6 AM for cartoons and cereal.

By the time you reach the door you’re already balancing on your toes, lifting yourself to look through the peephole. Your building security was tight, mostly agents from the bureau and their families who lived here, but it still didn’t stop you from being overly-cautious with your daughter sound asleep down the hall.

You really had no guesses for who would be knocking at this time, if you had been any more awake you probably would have had the mind to think of a neighbour or the night manager, but even if you had taken a million guesses you would never have said his name.

At the sight of the man on the other side of the door, his hand scrubbing down his face before tugging the tie around his neck loose as he looked like he wasn’t sure whether to stay or run, your heart stopped.

You hadn’t seen Javi in over a year, the last time almost in this exact spot, and it was like a wave of emotions crashing over you.

The memories of that first night when you met in the bar and how he had made you laugh harder than you had in the longest time, your head thrown back and his eyes crinkling at the side. The feeling of his hands as he pushed your skirt up to your waist the second your apartment door had closed, his body crowding against yours and his mouth kissing a path down your neck as his hand was lost between your legs. The feeling of his lips against your temple the next morning, how he smiled boyishly down at you as you hugged the sheets around your still-naked body and he left in the same clothes he had worn the night before. How your mouth fell-open when you walked into the boardroom on Monday morning to find him standing beside your boss. The weeks of avoiding him around the building with burning cheeks and fast clicking heels as you tried to make it to the elevator and back without being caught. The way he had caught you in the file room and asked you to go for a drink with him.

The way you had said yes, instantly.

The months of dates and nights where you lost yourself in the sheets. The day you introduced him to Sofia and he knelt before her with a smaller bouquet of flowers to match yours. The movie nights. The trips to the park. The safety you felt for the first time in… God, years really. The heartbreak as he stood at your door, while Sofia played quietly in the living room, and told you that they offered him a move back to Colombia, for a year - maybe two - and he had already said yes.

He had already said yes before talking to you and that was what broke everything.

But as you took in this man now, his tight shoulders and tired eyes, it somehow didn’t feel like a conversation for tonight.

With a hand sliding down the door you flicked the lock, taking off the latch in a swipe and opening the door wide enough for you to stand in the now open gap. His head had jerked up at the sound, his eyes widening as though he was surprised at you actually opening the door for him.

His lips parted and a quiet murmur of your name was the only sound he made, his hand shaking out by his side as he shifted his weight onto one leg and took you in.

In all honesty, for the first three months after he had left you had thought about this moment - about seeing him for the first time. You had imagined you would be dressed up with your hair and make-up done, throwing back your head in a laugh as he walked into whatever bar you were in - you would never imagined that it would be after midnight in your apartment building hallway, your face completely bare and an outfit that consisted of your work trousers and an oversized t-shirt turned sleep-shirt.

You would also never have guessed that you didn’t care what you looked like in this moment.

It was partially because, somehow, the man across from you looked even more tired than you felt and maybe it made you a bad person, slightly evil at the core, but it made you feel better that you weren’t the only mess.

“What are you doing here, Javi?” You asked, sighing and leaning your weight on the door as the exhaustion from the day caught up on you.

“I…” Javi’s hand rubbed across his jaw, his eyes flicking back and forth between yours before he sighed. “No. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… It’s late and- and I don’t know why I came, I just went for a walk and-” He shook his head again, taking a step back and another. “I’m sorry, I’ll just-”

You had never seen Javi flustered before, so unconfident and unbelieving in himself, and it set off an unease in you that had you stepping forward and wrapping your hand around his arm.

“Javi,” you said, waiting until he looked up into your eyes before going on. “Why don’t you just… come in. It’s late and you’re already here.”

His shoulders rose as he took in a breath, dark brown eyes looking into yours, then into the open door behind you, before he nodded and you let your palm slide down his arm and into his hand as you led him back into the apartment.

It was awkward and disjointed, his body close behind yours as you stepped inside and closed the door as soon as he had followed. With the door locked and his shoes toes off by the shoe rack, an uncomfortable pressure settled into your chest at the feeling that all of this was too familiar.

It was like every other time you had come home together. Those nights after work when you were still chatting as you stepped over the threshold, your eyes never leaving one another’s as you slipped your shoes off, tossed the keys into the bowl and slipped your jackets onto the rack while deciding what's for dinner. Or when the three of you had been out together and Sofia had fallen asleep on the way home, her cheek squished against his shoulder and his hand running up and down her back as you straightened the three pairs of shoes while he carried her to bed. Or nights when she was with your friend and you and Javi were on a date night, his mouth already on yours before the door had closed and his hands gripping at your thighs until your legs had been wrapped around his waist.

To make it worse, it felt right as soon as his hand was in yours - his rough skin against your smooth palm, his hand completely enveloping your smaller one, his thumb that instinctively came to trace circles on your skin.

Awkward and tension filled but familiar and right, no sign that anything good was going to come from leading him down the hall towards your bedroom. You stopped only to switch off the kitchen light, his weight steady behind you as he stayed silent while you peeked into Sofia’s room.

The purple octopus light on her bedside table was bright enough for you to make out her sleeping face, the duvet kicked down by her feet and her arms raised up above her head as she snored far louder than any five-year old should, so you closed the door back over until it was only open and inch or two and began the short walk across the hall to your room.

There is no part of your mind that could rationalise this, that could find an explanation other than you are just over-tired and hallucinating the man who broke your heart, but you can feel him here and there is a soft voice reassuring you that it's true, and that if he wanted you to stop leading him deeper into your apartment he would have said so by now.

When you open the door to your bedroom he follows closely, his hand only leaving yours when you're both over the threshold and he takes a step further inside as you close the door over.

“She's not a great sleeper right now,” you explain as you leave your door open an inch or two, the same as Sofia’s, and Javi waves you off.

When you turn back around you find your arms crossing over your chest, fingers digging into the skin around your elbow as you take in the man before you in more detail now.

He looks like the man you had first met; the tiredness that gave his cheeks an almost sunken look and left him with dark bags under his eyes. His shoulders were tight as though the weight of the very world settled on them and his eyes darted around your face as his hands clenched and released from fists by his side as though he couldn’t stay still.

He wasn't like the man who had been here just before he left again, settled into domesticity who would lie in bed wrapped around you until his alarm went off - not slipping out as soon as he woke up - and who began to build something here.

“I-” He started to speak and you raised a hand, shaking your head as your throat began to sting with unshed tears.

“I’m going to get ready for bed,” you said simply and he looked at you, searching your face for an answer he didn't seem to find before nodding.

If for nothing else, five minutes locked away might help you find some semblance of control. You avoided your reflection in the mirror the whole time, not wanting to see if your face was giving away more hope than pain or more pain than hope, and spent the whole time throwing your trousers in the laundry basket, washing your face and brushing your teeth wondering what Javi was doing in the room next door.

Your apartment had stayed largely the same this past year, a family home filled with toys and organised mess that accumulated from your busy lives, but you had not. Sometimes it felt like a museum, stumbling across a cuff link that was wedged between the cushions and remembering how on nights you were home alone he would take you on the sofa rather than take the two seconds to move you to the bedroom. Other times it felt like he had never been there at all, a wardrobe that had once held hangers of his shirts and trousers sitting emptier than before with only your clothes to fill it.

When you stepped back into your bedroom you found him perched on the side of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees and his fingers rubbing between his brows, until he stood up to face you.

His eyes followed a path up from your ankles to the middle of your thighs where the hem of your t-shirt rested, his bottom lip pulling between his teeth and his eyes darting away as his jaw clenched.

There was going to be no conversation tonight, not one that would do either of you any good or answer any of your questions. Questions about why he came here? Why didn't he call, not once, this whole year even just to tell you he was alive? Why can't you decide whether you hate or love him? Does he love you? Is this going to end up in an even bigger mess than last time? But these were questions you had asked yourself for a year and another night without answers wasn't going to ruin you.

Taking a step forward, then another, you placed your hands on his chest and watched as he carefully took you in. Your hands slipped up to his tie, one you had never seen before with the deep navy paisley pattern, and you raised an eyebrow in question.

He nodded once, the fabric soon coming loose and dropping to the floor.

A tear spilled over your cheek as your fingers moved down the buttons, slipping each one free from the soft cotton before you could slide it from his shoulders. The tips of your fingers grazed against his skin from his shoulders to his wrists and as soon as his hands were free they raised to your face, palms cupping your cheeks and thumbs brushing away the tears that were spilling over.

You stepped out of his grasp, rounding to your side of the bed and switching off the lamp.

“I hope you're wearing boxers under there,” you said, sniffing back the tears and climbing under the sheets.

His quiet laugh was followed by the soft thud of his trousers hitting the carpet.

“Yes, boxers are on,” he whispered back.

The mattress dipped behind you, his warmth settling on the half of the bed that had been cold for a year. Your shoulders were almost at your ears from how tense you held yourself, rolling over to face Javi to find him already facing you, an arm folded under the pillow and the other resting on the mattress between you.

“Hi,” you whispered.

“Hi,” he whispered back, his face softening slightly.

As your eyes adjusted to the dark your hand reached up, tracing down the strong slope of his nose and across the plump roundness of his lips. His breath hitched then, a beautifully painful sound that had your eyes squeezing shut.

Your eyes stayed closed as you turned back around, your body much closer to Javi’s than it had been before, and it wasn't long before his hand wrapped slowly around your waist, giving you time to push him away.

“Tomorrow,” you whispered, linking your fingers with his where they rested on the mattress in front of you and his chest pressed tighter against your back.

“Tomorrow,” he whispered back, his cheek resting against the top of your head and his hand squeezing yours.

#javi peña x you #javi peña x reader #javi peña x female reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x reader #javi peña #javier peña #javi peña x y/n #javier pena x y/n #javi pena x you

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thelightsandtheroses · 10 months

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Secret Smile: Tangled Webs (Chapter Four)

Secret Smile | Javier Peña x female reader

Summary: Before returning to Colombia to get things right this time, Javi’s childhood best friend asks him to keep an eye out for his sister while they’re both stationed in the embassy. Only you don’t need Javier to keep an eye you her. Your role as a new legal advisor is all about keeping an eye on him after all. Sparks fly, lines will be drawn and broken and there’s everything to lose.

Word Count: 2.7k Chapter Warnings: 18+ blog, language, reader has a nickname (Blue) but no physical descriptors used Author Notes: As always, thank you for all your feedback, likes and reblogs so far – it means a lot and I’m having so much fun writing this fic. I’d love to know what you think of this next chapter so please feel free to comment, reblog or even send an ask!

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“Did you hear about the senators?” Javi asks you as you slide his office door shut behind you and immediately make a beeline for the black leather couch.

“I did,” you say, taking a long gulp of coffee and then trying to mask your scowl. Instant. Not your favourite. It’s better than nothing, or at least that’s what you’re trying to convince yourself. If you’re tired enough and add enough milk and sugar then it’s almost palatable. It’s better than the coffee at your last office at least, not that that is a particularly high bar. You’re not sure it could even legally be classed as coffee at your last office.

After you impulsively turned up at his apartment, Javi and you have started to work out a tentative peace. Maybe he’s realised that you want real justice too, that you also need to bring these people to account. You want to help him do this the right way.

The two of you spent part of the evening brainstorming ways to move the case forward, trying to find a route that wouldn’t directly compromise the surrender agreement in progress yet, but would allow Javi to pursue real consequences.

Money.

No matter how much you try, it eventually will leave a trail. You’d been told by a colleague about a banking glitch abroad that led to right here in Bogota. This might be the lucky break that could help Javi right now. The two of you have agreed that Javi should use this to obtain the data he needs on who is behind the money for the cartel. If he gets this, it will help him solidify the case and get some strong evidence too.

“So, the Clinton list? You’re going ahead with that option?” you ask. It’s the simplest way to get the bank to work with Javi and technically it’s by the book.

“I’ve already asked Stoddard to get onto that,” Javi says.

“Okay, so now you’re just showing off that you have a team.”

Javi tilts his head before asking with an innocent voice, “Oh, do you not?”

You finish crumpling up a piece of paper and throw it at him. He catches it, cocking an eyebrow with a mischievous expression.

“Really, resorting to violence now, are we, Blue? Assaulting an attaché?”

“Only people from home have ever called me that,” you say softly, “it’s kind of weird hearing it again.”

“Does it bother you then?”

“No … it’s nice, I think.”

“Do you miss Laredo?” he asks, a strange expression on his face.

“I don’t know. Sometimes. Maybe a little, but not as much as I think I should. I miss some of the people; my friends, Sofia, Rafa, my parents. I just don’t - I don’t know, I always wanted to get out and be in a city or a new place, to explore and not be in a small town. Do you know what I mean?”

“I’m the same.” He pauses and looks ahead with a thoughtful expression.

“It’s kind of weird though, that we’re both here at the same time” you add, ”I have a friend who is really into fate and superstitions and horoscopes -“

Javi snorts at the mention of horoscopes and you shake your head at him.

“Anyway, she talks a lot about kismet - fate and destiny and all that. Maybe that’s why we’re both here. We can stop Cali together.”

“That would be nice.”

There’s a strange tension in the air for a minute, Javi’s staring at you like he’s never seen you before and his expression is otherwise unreadable.

He exhales deeply and then says, “I’m meeting the bank as soon as I’m done with the senators and the bank already know what I’m coming with so they should have something for me when I get there.”

“Okay.”

“I’ve got a contact; they might know whoever the money person is. Tomorrow - tomorrow we get them.”

“Good. And what about your agents you authorised to go to Cali, without uh - any approval? Thanks for that by the way, loved the grilling from the ambassador. He was so incensed he didn’t even wait until 9am to summon me.”

“They’re heading out this morning. Feistl got a warrant ready, just in case,” Javi says. “I’m still not sure if we can trust - it’s worth a try though.”

“That’s good, I’m glad he got the warrant.” That makes your job easier, you think, less likely to cause another drama with the ambassador. If their visit does turn up something, they’re prepared and with a warrant ready they can quickly act. You’re learning that timing is everything for the DEA.

“I’ll be reminding them when we speak- everything by the book,” he says with a wry smile.

“Good. Do you think you can trust the local police?”

“I don’t think I can trust anybody, Blue.”

“Even me?” you ask, hurt permeating your voice. You look down at the floor in embarrassment.

Javi trusts a local journalist more than he trusts you at the moment. He’s supposed to know you. He’s known you for years.

“I want to,” he says quietly. “Do you trust me?”

You pause, exhaling heavily. “I want to as well.”

Javi’s office falls silent. You can hear the muffled hum of noise around the glass walls, people arriving for their day of work.

“Are you going to the big meeting then when they arrive?”

Javi pulls a face. “I have to. You?”

“Oh, no. That’s for the extra special boys’ club, Javi, I’m not invited to that.” You don’t mean to sound bitter; you’re not even surprised and your job is far less glamorous sounding than Javi’s anyway. Accountability and legal motions aren’t the sexiest of discussion topics.

“Count yourself lucky. Besides, it’s their loss. You’re smarter than Stechner and Crosby.”

“Why, that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” you say with an overly sweet voice, watching Javi roll his eyes in response.

“Don’t get used to it,” Javi says, a lopsided smirk on his face.

The damn phone has no signal out here.

Javi had a plan. Get Jurado, make his case, do it by the book. The plane was ready, he was ready. Then Stechner came along, those stupid VIP guests came along.

Now he’s sweating through his shirt in the middle of the jungle in uncomfortable shoes and desperate for a cigarette.

Fuck the gum.

No one could have endured that helicopter flight, had to deal with damn idiots trying to talk over the headphones and helicopter noise, without needing a cigarette.

Besides quitting smoking was meant to be a signal. The new and improved Javier Peña, getting it right this time and taking down a cartel. Only the past can’t be ignored. No one will let him forget; they rarely explicitly accuse him, but too many people know what Javi did. Too many people still judge him for that, even Captain Hernandez.

Javi told Steve once that sometimes you had to do bad things to catch bad people.

Maybe he was wrong.

Maybe he’s only made things worse.

He just can’t seem to get it right.

Javi breaks from his reverie, holds his phone up one more time.

Javi has no idea what’s happening with Feistl and Van Ness, no clue whether Stoddard has been able to get anywhere with Panama. He’s not sure if you’re helping. He’s still not sure if he can trust you, as much as he wants to.

Javi can’t be here.

He can’t be part of this charade; play the role of a hero, pretend that this isn’t a giant set-up. What’s Stechner thinking with this?

Javi hears a noise, looks around and sees the army liaison who Stechner had introduced to the senators earlier.

Javi looks exhausted when you finally see him again. More than that, he’s more visibly frustrated and annoyed than you’ve ever seen him before.

Linda had told you that the senators had insisted he join them on their visit, whether he wanted to or not. You knew how much Javi had prepared for the day. The senators wanted to hear from a ‘real life hero’ though and they could control the DEA’s money for this mission. You can only imagine how delighted Javi had been with the whole sorry mess.

You hadn’t quite expected him to return like this though.

When he left the office in the morning, he had been focused, motivated, and smartly dressed. Now, you notice his shoes are covered in dirt and mud; that they look ruined. The difference isn’t just his clothes, there’s something changed in his eyes, something you can’t identify but you know that don’t want to ever see in him again.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? You really went on a day trip to the rainforest in your best shoes?” you ask sweetly. “The attaché salaries must be even better than I thought.”

“Don’t. Don’t even fucking go there, Blue.”

“I’m trying really hard to take your threat seriously, but Javi have you looked at yourself?”

Javi stands up straight. “You heard then? I was meant to go to fucking Panama, had the plane and everything ready.”

“The senators and Stechner had other ideas, I’m afraid.”

“It was a goddamn joke, Blue.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was a setup. Nothing was real - just a show, like this whole damn thing is. This - this is all bullshit.”

You’re not sure how to reply to that and instead awkwardly fidget with the paper file you were organising.

“Stoddard said it didn’t go anywhere with Jurado.” Javi’s whole body sinks into the office chair next to your desk and he pinches his brow.

“Nope,” he says, each syllable clearly pronounced.

“Shit.”

“Yep.”

“So, did Feistl and Van Ness come up with anything?” you ask, hoping that things aren’t entirely lost for Javi’s investigation.

“They did. The police are keeping it all though. They think there might be another angle, but fuck.” Javi shakes his head.

You lean against his desk and look down at the floor, trying to bring to mind some comforting words, the right thing to say. You don’t know what to do. There’s no simple solution here; no sudden legal clause or clever argument you can pull out to make everything better and get what you need back in evidence or convince a jury. This is all so different to what you are used to; a side of investigations and cases you’ve never seen before.

“So, where are we left?” you ask, thinking aloud. “Jurado’s not an option until we can find out where he is. We need to - maybe your guys will come up with something in Cali, in the paperwork. I’ll call the police in the morning, see if I can do anything to help us get some of the evidence.”

“You think that’ll work?”

“I think I’m a very convincing person, Javi.”

“Oh, I’m sure you are, Blue. Thing is, I’m not sure -” he pauses, leans back against the couch, “I don’t think we can trust the police contact Feistl and Van Ness are with. Not from what they’ve told me anyway.”

You think about his words, the small details you’ve heard from Stoddard today. “I think you’re right. They’re holding back on the evidence. Truthfully. they’re not going to work together with us easily. I mean, the rumour is the Rodriguez brothers own half of Cali anyway, right? It would make sense. We - your guys need to proceed with caution. There are things we can do, ways to protect this work and keep the case robust.”

You shake your head at his expression, place the paperwork file down on his desk. “We’ll sort it tomorrow; things will be better then.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, so don’t stay too late, Javi, it’s been a long day.”

“Wait, can I ask you a question?”

“If I was being mean, I’d say you just did,” you reply, folding your arms around you.

“Really, Blue? Okay, why don’t you want people to know we knew each other before the job? Is it me or -” Javi trails off and you wonder what happened during the trip to the jungle that prompted this.

You meet Javi’s gaze to try and read his expression. He looks almost guilty, as though he thinks you’re ashamed of knowing him. That doesn’t make sense because he’s Javi; he’s the hero of the DEA according to almost everyone. Stechner’s words and insinuations echo in your mind, the hints at what Javi may have done before, how desperate he was to get Escobar. Part of you doesn’t blame him for wanting to pursue justice - you can understand that desire, even if you don’t agree with what he was rumoured to have done.

If the rumours are true, it explains a lot about Javi now.

“No, it’s not you,” you say, taking a deep breath before you continue, “It’s the situation. It’s messy. I was technically recommended for this job by a friend and it is bad enough that the ambassador knows that. If it got around that you are my brother’s best friend? I got this job on my own merits and I-”

“Woah, woah, I didn’t say anything about how you got this job. I don’t even know how you got this job. Frankly I didn’t know there even was a job until you turned up.“

“I really thought you hated me for that.”

“Not you, Blue. Don’t hate you.”

“You wouldn’t have had to say anything about me getting this job. People make assumptions all the time. I’ve dealt with it my whole career, especially as I moved up, and I just wanted here to be different.” You needed here to be different. After everything that had went down in DC, this job was supposed to be a fresh start, an escape from everything you’d run away from. Only you’re rapidly wondering if you’ve jumped from the frying pan into the fire instead.

“I can understand that,” Javi finally says softly.

“It’s that one time that it really is me and not you,” you add with a grin.

“So, Blue, am I really Rafael’s best friend?” Javi asks with a crooked smile.

“If you ever tell him I told you that, I will kill you.”

“Promises, promises.”

You shake your head and look at Javi for a moment before saying, “I really should go, Javi. See you tomorrow.”

Stoddard knocks on the glass door and you quickly move off Javi’s desk, cross your arms as he walks over to his desk and waves Stoddard in.

“Sir, we may have a problem. Feistl and Van Ness weren’t on their flight back.”

“Fuck.”

You look at Javi’s alarmed face and take a slow breath.

“Okay, have you tried to call them, Stoddard? No, then go do that!” Javi says.

”Maybe - maybe they caught a lead, Agent Peña. I can call someone at Cali, see if we can subtly make enquiries,” you say softly.

Javi nods and you hear him firmly instructing Stoddard on exactly what to do.

“Guess we’re not heading back right now then,” you say once it’s just the two of you in his office, both of you standing by his desk.

“Fucking Feistl,” Javi says, leaning his hands against the edge of the desk so you can see the hint of strained shoulder muscles beneath his shirt.

“You chose him to go to Cali,” you say lightly.

Javi sighs, stands up straight as he pinches his brow. “Technically he was just the only one who asked.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant, Javi.”

“Hey, at he least showed some initiative.”

“Wonderful. Perhaps he’s showing that initiative now.”

“Go home, it’s late. I’ll clean up here, stay and see if they call.”

“Javi -”

“This part is my job, Blue, not yours. I’ve got it covered.”

“Okay. Promise you’ll call if you need anything? You have my phone and my pager, right?”

You squeeze Javi’s shoulder as you make a move to pick up your handbag, watch him start to organise the papers strewn on his desk.

Before you can leave the office, Javi’s office phone rings. You meet his eyes as he quickly answers.

“Peña,” he says. You carefully try and read his reaction, try to notice the way his face slightly relaxes before he asks, “Where the fuck have you been?”

When he hangs up the phone, he looks up at you with a smile.

“You were right.”

“I often am,” you joke breezily, “So, what was I right about?”

”They caught a lead.”

You smile broadly. “Oh, really?”

“We can get Gilberto Rodriguez. They found him.”

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lavendertales · 2 years

Text

My, oh my—Javier Peña x f!reader**

Chapter 7 of the Unholy series

summary: Steve lets it slip to Javier why you’re in Colombia. But when you’re on your way home from a girls’ night, you and Javier let your feelings get the best in you.

word count: 5.3k

WARNINGS: doggy, hair pulling, pussy slapping, handjob, cunnilingus from behind, creampie.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

gif: @trashcora

series masterlist | AO3

Though Connie followed through with her invitation to dinner, you were still a little surprised. Pleasantly surprised, but still. You gladly accepted, especially when you realized it would be you, her and Sofia. You haven’t had a girls’ night in a very long time and it could be exactly what you needed.

As it turned out, getting a confession out of La Quica was a challenge. Javier tried, then Steve tried, and then you tried. When you entered the interrogation room and Quica told you he’ll talk if you go sweet on him, you had to resist the urge to vomit right then and there. Luckily for you, Carrillo stepped up, proving himself to be a rightful leader.

Now, you’re not sure what happened after Carrillo took over the interrogation process. La Quica was removed from the embassy’s premises and all you knew was that Javier and Steve were the only ones allowed to chime in. You and Sofia were asked specifically to focus on other members of Escobar’s entourage, so you didn’t overthink it. You figured it must’ve been something unorthodox that not even Noonan or Wysession would’ve agreed with.

So after all, it seemed you had some free time to spare, and girls’ night was the ideal opportunity to spend some quality time with women your age.

You had to confess, you were excited.

Thursday afternoon rolled around, and you showed up at Steve and Connie’s place with a bottle of red wine in hand and your revolver in your purse. You never left home without it, just in case. Bogota wasn’t particularly welcoming, particularly to women, and with Escobar’s people at every corner, things took a turn for the worse. Better to have a measure of safety and to not use it than the other way around.

“Hi, come in!”

Connie greets you with a tight hug, thanking you for the wine.

“We got four bottles of wine now,” she laughs, taking out the glasses from the cupboard.

“So one bottle each and one to share,” you joke.

Sofia laughs as you take a seat next to her. “Where’s Steve?”

“He wouldn’t say. All he said was that he and Javi had to meet with Horacio and… that’s about it.”

You suck in a sharp breath, controlling each one that comes in afterwards. There’s no nervousness to be felt, only residual guilt.

“Do you guys know anything about it?” Connie asks, offering you and Sofia your wine and setting down a plate with food.

“We have ideas,” Sofia says cautiously, “but nothing for sure. We were asked to stay away from this particular interrogation.”

“Oh. So it’s not… legal?”

You furrow your brows, taking the first sip of the wine and feeling it warm your extremities.

“Well… maybe not entirely,” you answer.

“Okay, then if the guys don’t want us to know, we shouldn’t wonder.”

“Agreed.”

The three of you clink the glasses together, and for the first time in weeks, you feel truly relaxed. There’s nothing to disturb you, nothing to make you fidgety or angry.

“Steve says you and Javi went to college together,” Connie initiates the inevitable conversation. “You were in the same group?”

“Yep, same class. Quite unfortunate, really.”

Sofia giggles. “You never talk about it.”

“Because not many people would understand the relationship we have.”

Connie and Sofia exchange a look, then turn back to you.

“Try us,” Connie smiles.

You breathe in and out, quickly as ripping off a band-aid. Another sip of wine slips past your lips, and you decide to open up at last.

“It’s just the way it’s always been between us,” you begin. “It’s been that way right from the beginning. I don’t know, I guess we just bring out the competitive side in each other. We pushed each other to have the higher grades, the better-looking projects, the more extracurricular classes and activities… his cocky attitude always got to me, truth be told. And I suppose mine had the same effect on him.”

“You guys are competitive with each other, there’s nothing wrong with that,” Sofia says.

“Sounds like it’s a bit more than that, though,” Connie adds.

You frown. “No, it’s not.”

She shrugs, staring into your eyes with a sympathetic smile that somehow makes you feel worse.

“What do you mean?” you demand.

“Well, it seems having him around makes you want to be better, and vice versa. You bring out the best in each other.”

“But we bring out the worst in each other. I mean, at work we argue and bicker and we’re tense—“

“Usually cause where there’s tension, there’s something more.”

Sofia makes a cheeky expression towards you, one that you dismiss.

“There’s nothing more,” you almost laugh. “I—we dislike each other, we just want to outdo and annoy each other.”

“But… come on,” Sofia jumps in, “Javier’s a very good looking guy. Surely you noticed that.”

Your frown deepens and you purse your lips together.

“He’s a rat,” you say.

Both women giggle, which makes you more confused and upset.

“Javi’s very good looking,” Connie fortifies.

“You do remember Steve, right? Your husband?”

Connie moves a little closer to you, putting her arm around you. She sighs with the same radiant smile on her face, making you fear that she was about to spew something meaningful and deep, and you already know it won’t be your cup of tea.

“Look, you know your own feelings and this relationship between the two of you better than us, better than anyone else,” she says. “We’re just teasing here. But would it be so bad to… you know… like the man?”

“Didn’t you hear me before? The man’s a rat! He’s slept with I don’t know how many women before, he’s annoying and stubborn, hot-headed, cocky, grumpy and miserable… what?”

Both of them stare at you, willing themselves not to break into wide smiles.

“You do like him, don’t you?” Sofia smirks, practically radiating from how jittery she is.

“Am I speaking some sort of long-lost language to you? The man is obnoxious! He’s—he makes me so mad, so—“

Words flee from your mind, right under the girls’ eyes. This time, though, they don’t tantalize you. Even they can notice how you’re struggling with some inner emotions.

You don’t say the word that comes to your mind next. It feels immoral, forbidden.

Connie calls you out gently, gaining your attention again.

“You don’t have to tell us anything if you don’t want to,” she reassures you.

You bear nothing but gratitude towards her in this moment for sparing you the trouble of having to explain the true nature of your dynamic with Javier, especially as of late. You doubt you’d be judged, but why transfer your headache to them?

This is your mess, nobody else’s.

“Thank you,” you coo, visibly distraught.

“But can we ask… how was Javier in college though?”

To that you chuckle, thankful for the second glass of wine that Connie pours you. You take a deep breath, letting all the memories from 15 years ago resurface.

“He was… not that much different than how he is now,” you say, oddly fond of that time in your life. “A little less grumpy, maybe, but pretty much the same.”

“I just can’t picture younger Javi, life of the party, studying…”

“He wasn’t really life of the party. He showed up, had some drinks, hung out in a corner with his two friends and call it a night. I did the same, though.”

“Were you really that competitive with each other?”

“Oh yes. Whatever grade I had, he had to have the better one. Whatever grade he had, I had to have the better one. I can’t tell you how it started, it just… did.”

“You mean you were instantly enemies, right from the start? There was no… friendship, no cordiality?”

It’s surprising that you hesitate; you thought of your college memories as intact, purely objective. Yet now, looking back on the first weeks into the college start, you realize that you and Javier were quite friendly with each other. The competition hadn’t began back then.

So where did it change so radically?

“Huh,” you say, brows furrowed in confusion. “You know, you might have a point. We weren’t like this from the beginning.”

“You weren’t?” Sofia asks.

On your side, Connie sips silently from the wine, listening to your story with utmost interest.

“No,” you confirm, utterly astounded. “No, we—we were colleagues, polite and… even friendly with each other.”

“What happened then?”

“We got out first assignment, and we ended up in different teams. I’m naturally competitive and want to do a great job with everything that I do, and I jokingly told him, ‘watch out, I’ll have the better assignment’. He replied in the same joking manner and… after that, it became a regular thing.”

“But going from friends to enemies still seems far-fetched,” Connie intervenes. “It doesn’t seem like it’s just some good old rivalry. Seems like something more personal happened in between you two that set you off.”

You think hard and long about that particular time period, but there’s nothing that stands out. You just embrace it as the way you are. After all, why should you think any different? Neither you nor Javier have ever given an indication that there was something more to be felt.

Except for now.

“Nothing comes to mind,” you say after a while. “I guess underneath those pleasantries we just didn’t like each other after all.”

Then how the hell do I crave him on top of me again?

Wouldn’t mind him under me either…

Shut up. This is insane. It’s over.

“It seems this competition is helping you in the workplace though,” Sofia says. “You’re both very hardworking.”

“That’s because we want to prove each other wrong,” you laugh. “But it does help in our search for Escobar.”

“How is that going, by the way? Aside the guys doing sketchy things.”

Following a half-hour of updating Connie on the case, you and Sofia alter the subject to learn how Connie met Steve. You could have used some encouragement given how things were going in your lives.

“Sooo… you don’t hate her.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You sure pull on one hell of a show.”

Javier rolls his eyes, putting out his cigarette and finishing his beer. He agreed to meet with Steve at the bar to blow off some steam after the scene they had partaken in, and this topic of conversation isn’t entirely his taste.

“Why are we even talking about her?” he asks with as much displeasure as possible.

“Cause I’m your only friend and I’m curious.”

Javier stares unimpressed at him. “I’d much rather talk about this evening with Carrillo than her.”

“I don’t think you want to revisit what we just saw.”

Javier concurs with him, but he doesn't say it out loud. He wishes that drinking would erase his recent thoughts of that evening, but he agreed to have only one beer because he had to drive them both home.

“All I’m saying is, you can dial back on the harsh attitude,” Steve tells his friend. “We get it, you’re competitive, but it’s getting old after so many weeks.”

“It’s not something you can just turn on and off, Murphy. It’s the way we are with each other. That’s—not gonna change.”

But Steve notices his partner’s troubled figure, his momentary hesitation, and he knows he shouldn’t push the matter. However, what kind of friend would he be if he’d just drop things?

“Why are you so mad then? We’re just talkin’ about her.”

Javier grits his teeth, unable to look at Steve.

“Because the same way I don’t wanna talk about Escobar in my so-called free time, the same way I don’t wanna talk about her.”

“You did not just put those two in the same sentence.”

“It’s true.”

“It’s bullshit! Give me a fucking break. You can’t say she’s as bad as Escobar.”

“You know what I fucking mean!”

Steve is the one to roll his eyes this time, furious with his partner’s stubbornness. It’s not uncommon or new, but sometimes he cannot believe Javier’s audacity.

“If you had someone at work you couldn’t stand, I bet you wouldn’t wanna talk about them all day either,” Javier persists.

“You just said you don’t hate her.”

“For fuck’s sake—I just said I don’t!”

“Then why—“

“Because she’s infuriating! She’s so annoying and stubborn, hot-headed, cocky, know-it-all… not a day goes by that she doesn’t make my blood boil, even fifteen years later.”

Javier can barely breathe; he sees red in front of him, and in the center, he sees you, as distracting and vicious as always.

“Whoa,” Steve coos. “That’s… a lot.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if she came all the way here to spite me.”

“She didn’t. But the assumption is as stupid as you.”

Javier frowns. “Why do you sound so sure?”

It’s only then that Steve gulps, painfully aware of the beans he’s about to spill. You didn’t specify whether you wanted your confession to remain a secret, but Steve still doesn’t think he should spread the word around.

“Just a hunch,” he says.

“Did she—tell you something?”

“Huh, look who gives a shit!”

Javier makes a move as if to stand up, and Steve figures this is his one chance to give his friend a little perspective over the situation.

“She’s not here for you,” he says, grabbing Javier’s arm. “I know you’re the ladies’ favorite, but don’t flatter yourself so much.”

“Why is she here then? What does she want from me now?”

If there’s something that tips Steve about that behavior, is the desperation in Javier’s voice. He’s never heard him like that in the year and a half they’ve worked together, and he’s starting to believe that whatever Javier claims, the reality is far from it.

“She’s looking for her dad’s killer,” he blurts out. “Apparently her dad was killed on a trip to Bogota over a year ago and the autopsy revealed that he had been shot several times. She thinks it might be one of Escobar’s men.”

Javier is stunned. He says nothing as he rummages the words. Of course you wouldn’t be there for him. All he is… is a rival. A good sport. Nothing more.

Maybe a good fuck, but definitely nothing more.

It’s appalling that he feels disappointed in a sense. More so because it messes with his head and makes it spin in tormenting ways.

“I see,” he replies after a while, throat dry.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

Steve shrugs. “I don’t know. You look a little disappointed.”

When did I get so fucking obvious? I got some shit to re-evaluate.

“I’m sorry to hear about her father. But does she really think one of Escobar’s men killed him?”

“That’s her hunch. The only proof is the autopsy report, and that’s not much to go by. A lot of people use different kinds of bullets.”

“It’s practically impossible to figure out who used which bullets.”

“Yeah.”

Silence falls in between them; the only ice breaker is Steve ordering his fifth beer, and Javier’s loud sigh. He feels a little bad for giving you a hard time when you were probably still mourning the death of your father.

“Do you know her dad’s name?” he asks, a thought crossing his mind.

“Uh… I think she said Michael. Why?”

“If he did die by the hands of one of the narcos, he should be in embassy’s archive. We keep records of all the identified bodies, the dad’s should be there if he was just shot. And if he was a civilian, the case was investigated, which means—“

“The killer might be there, in black and white.”

Steve’s face lights up, suddenly impressed by Javier’s demeanor.

“You do care about her, man,” he taps his shoulder. “It’s very nice of you to do that.”

“I didn’t do anything, I just had an idea. Relax.”

“Why are you against being a decent human being?”

Javier sighs, lighting another cigarette. He remains silent as Steve drinks from his beer, unwilling to look at him anymore.

At least he doesn’t have to explain his mixed feelings about you anymore. And at the very least, he doesn’t have to face you tonight.

Girls’ night came to its inevitable end once Steve entered in the apartment, tipsy and lovingly fondling Connie. You hid your chuckle, relieved to see that, in Sofia’s drunken state, she would at least crash over there instead of traveling across town in a questionable cab. So you bid them all goodnight, insisting that you were fine to go home. After all, you lived two blocks away.

“Take care, sweetie,” Connie tells you as you walk out, waving at the party left behind.

You search in your purse, making sure all your belongings remain in the same place. Not a moment later, your heart skips a beat when you notice the only other silhouette in the hallway.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, voice low and defenseless.

“I live here.”

You take a proper look, realizing that the apartment he’s about to enter is the one right in front of Steve and Connie’s, and you exhale.

“Of course you do. What are the odds?”

“The better question is, what are you doing here?”

“If you must know, Connie invited me and Sofia over for some wine and conversation.”

“Great, so that means I’ll get to see your face in my spare time too.”

“Not everything is about you, Peña.”

He doesn’t fight you back this round; in fact, he seems distressed, somewhat sickly, and if you wouldn’t be such a good person at your core, you would’ve even ask the following question.

“What’s going on with you?”

Taken aback, it takes Javier a while to reply. “Why?”

“You look kinda sick.”

“I guess I am. Sick and tired of having to talk about you, cause that’s what I spent most of this evening doing.”

You chuckle, suddenly angering him. He remains still though, even as you approach him all benevolent.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, irritated.

“I spent my evening talking about you, too.”

“No wonder I got a headache.”

Now, in the rosy light of the hallway, you see him conceal a smile, but you don’t point fingers. You do the same. Something feels slightly different between you two. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re seeing each other outside of the office for the second time, or maybe it’s the fact that you’re feeling relaxed as opposed to constantly infuriated.

“It’s so… wild,” Javier says out of the blue, gaining your attention. “You were in my head, the whole time I had to explain shit to Murphy, but now you’re… here.”

You frown, unsure if you get where he’s headed with all that.

“Are you okay, Peña?”

He lets out a mocking laughter, the kind that makes you blind with rage, except...

Except now, in this bizarre moment, it doesn’t.

“Fuck you calling me Peña like it doesn’t turn you on just to say it,” he continues to laugh, hands on his hips as he stares at you in a mixture of disbelief and desire.

“Please.”

It’s him who moves closer to you, licking his lips and staring at you, pupils blown out of proportion.

“Please what?” he asks in the sultriest voice you’ve heard coming out of him.

“You think calling you that turns me on?” you try to laugh about it.

“What does, then?”

“You’re a filthy man.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

You swallow harshly, like there’s gravel in your throat. It’s all the more debilitating to realize that you cannot hide from him. The man reads you like the back of his hand.

“You don’t get to ask these things, Peña,” you make sure to accentuate his name. “Not when you got hard in the middle of the conference staring at me.”

“Oh yeah?”

You’re skipping rope with the line between cordiality and hatred, and your pulse races like it did that night at the bar. There’s something about his impertinence that, as much as you’d hate to admit it, gets you hot like nothing else could.

“Then you don’t get to take the high road and act like you’re better when you had to bite down on your lip to not scream my name.”

Oh, he’s filthy, alright. Filthy and vengeful, and you wouldn’t have him any other way.

“It didn’t—“

“Mean anything? Yeah, I keep telling myself that bullshit.”

You can’t deny that you’re taken aback by his boldness; the soft, yet determined look in his eyes you can only categorize as an absolute weakness. It’s bizarre and confusing how he manages to stir this vile concoction of emotions from you, while being the one vice you cannot seem to shake off.

“Is it? Is it bullshit?” you ask, fear shaking you a little.

He shrugs, eyeing you up and down in the most carnal, selfish way you’ve ever seen in anyone.

“Doesn’t feel that way anymore,” he replies.

You are used to seeing him uptight and cocky and mean, the way he was a few minutes ago. This alter ego of his is making you dizzy, and you don’t want it. Not now, not when there’s the sting of wine in your veins, and the anger of your same old rivalry consuming you.

“Do me a favor, enemy to enemy,” you coo, your face in a much too close proximity to his face.

“What do you need?”

The way he asks that makes you think he’s got the same thought on his mind, and you don’t wanna waste time thinking whether you’re right or wrong.

You want the same forbidden taste on your lips, the same decadent and dirty sensation that made your body tremble, and that same rush of adrenaline only this relationship has to offer.

“Be the same asshole you always are,” you say, tugging at his collar. “You get a free pass for that tonight.”

He raises his eyebrows, his chocolate eyes now wide and resembling a lost puppy.

God, you’d loathe everything about this if you wouldn’t be so enticed by his whole being right now.

“You want me to be the same old Javier Peña you dislike,” he concludes.

“Yes. Don’t talk. Don’t say anything. Just—“

You voice dies in the silence, and Javier obeys for what feels like a premiere since you’ve known each other, and succumbs to your wish. He pushes everything else out of his mind, including the fact he’s learned about you tonight, and chooses another wrong doing.

One that’s so saccharine he could die on the spot. But he’d die a happy man.

Happy. The notion didn’t even cross his mind till just now. He hadn’t felt happiness in a very long time, if ever. And what you and he are doing is wrong and inexcusable, but it’s undeniably the most fulfilled he’s felt in years.

He forgoes any other concern, anything else that doesn’t revolve around you, at least for the time being. When you press your mouth on his, he knows the dance; it’s fast-paced and eager, and Javier wants nothing else but that.

You both stumble as you enter his apartment, a foreign territory for you that you don’t pay much attention to. You figure you’d end up on the couch again, but instead, you’re surprised when you’re being pushed into a secluded room, presumably his bedroom.

It’s the most intimate setting you can think of, particularly when you fall on top of the comfy mattress and start undressing him in a haste. This is where he sleeps, where he’s probably fucked dozens of other girls, but you quickly recall you are just another number on the list in order to not turn this into anything other than its raw meaning.

The clothes are being disposed of fairly fast; neither talks while you gaze at the naked body before you, as you had requested, so you simply enjoy the view. The dim light in the room allows you to see his bronze skin above you, the happy trail that leads to what you need from him the most, and the erection that forms right under your very eyes.

He kisses you again and again, and then he leaves a wet trail of sloppy kisses down your jaw and neck, nestling his head in between your breasts as you part your legs, allowing him sufficient space to grind. You let out a small gasp when you feel his hand reaching in between your legs to find your clit, rubbing as gently as he can while his mouth remains on yours.

You feel the urge to return the favor and reach to give his cock a few strokes. Javier grunts in the kiss, pulling away from you to stare in disbelief.

“Don’t,” is all he tells you.

“Why?”

He loses the string of thought the more he stares at you. He’s unable to tell you that he could come on the spot if you touch him one more time, or that any touch of yours brings him to his knees in an instant.

“Can’t handle it?” you tease, and keep jerking him off slowly.

He grunts, eyes fluttered shut. It’s not the first time he feels someone’s warm hand curled around his shaft, but it’s the first time he feels like he’s going to explode from a singular touch. You stroke him gently, way too slow for his personal taste, and when your thumb grazes the tip, wiping the bit of precum leaking already from it, Javier loses it completely: he moans so loud you might think something’s the matter.

But you do notice the expression on his face and stop, fearing for a moment. Hell, you even broke your no-talking rule already because of this, so it better be worth it.

“Turn around,” he grunts at you.

When you fail to comply with his request, he kisses you harshly again. “I said, turn the fuck around,” he repeats, a slap falling over your pussy.

You quiver, shocked at the sensation, more so because the slick sound that emerges from in between your legs is lewd and embarrassing for your pride, but oh so ecstatic.

Javier repeats the motion three more times, more rapidly, and you finally change your position, ass full on display for him. In the heat of the moment, you realize that it might actually be better this way. This way, you don’t see him and he doesn’t see you. You don’t have to acknowledge who the person that’s bringing you immense pleasure is.

Your gasp is broken in tiny several ones when you feel his warm mouth lapping at your folds. His large hands are on your ass, holding you in place, and his tongue does its devilish dance on your core. You almost lose balance from the intense pleasure. Jesus Christ, how the hell does it feel you’ve been deprived of any touch for months instead of a few days?

One of your hands reaches to hold onto the headboard, the other barely managing to support your weight as waves of pleasure hit you from behind. Your whole body is afire, your belly set to detonate at any given moment. Javier’s mouth, as frustrating as it may be on a daily basis, is working magic against your soaked folds right now. You don’t contain your moans, even though you hate giving him the satisfaction of knowing that it’s him who awakens those feelings and sounds out of you.

Before you know it, another sound escapes from your mouth; fleeting, whispered with disdain, and you can only pray he didn’t hear it.

Javier.

It’s his name that stains your lips now as you approach your climax. His first name that you haven’t addressed him by in years that is the center of your pleasure.

Suddenly, the burning ache in your belly vanishes as quickly as it came. You turn your head and see him above you, face darkened with lust and chest heaving with irregular breaths. You see his hand drop to his cock, and you moisten your lips in anticipation. You stare back at the wall, waiting, feeling painfully empty and lonely.

But not for long.

Javier finally slips inside you, both of you gasping at the sensation. He leans into you more, burying himself to the hilt as he presses a kiss on your back.

“You don’t want me to be good?” he asks.

It’s hard to process his words, let alone come up with your own. It’s not easier when Javier grabs a handful of your hair, pulling you backwards.

“Talk,” he orders.

“No,” you manage to get out. “No, I don’t—want you to be good. If you can even be that.”

You can barely breathe, anxiously waiting for him to move. Your words trigger him as he gives his first thrust, deep and hard, causing you to choke on air.

“This is all you need, isn’t it?” he grunts, starting to rut his hips against yours, hand pulling your hair tighter. “Someone to—fuck you rough and fast, hm?”

“Yes—“

“A cock filling you up—and nothing sweet.”

You can only moan your approval when he starts railing you, rough and fast, just as he had said; the grip he has over your hair tightens even more, and your ass bounces with each thrust he gives you. The feeling of his cock pushing through your warm, slick walls is simply maddening, and he doubts he’ll last for too long. Ideally, he’d fuck you through the night, till you can’t walk or talk, but this will have to do in the meantime.

Another means to an end.

The most intoxicating means to an end he’d ever known.

His grunts fill the room when he feels his climax fast approaching. His whole body burns with your presence, his cock twitches and he instinctively buries himself inside you as far as he can. The rush he gets then is simply incapacitating: he feels his cum pulse in strong jets, moving from his balls to his cock, running along the length and then release his load into you. He freezes as he lets himself go completely, letting go of your hair and grabbing your torso instead, bringing you to his chest and squeezing your breasts with his palms. His thrusts get sloppier, further apart, and he bites your earlobe, waiting to settle down.

It takes you a while to climb down from your own high, and it’s baffling to grasp the fact that you don’t want this moment to end. Javier’s hold over your body is powerful, yet strangely tender, and you feel safe and happy.

You actually feel happy having had Javier fuck you senseless.

“So this is how to shut you up,” he coos right in your ear.

You smirk. “I could’ve used my mouth in another way that might’ve agreed with you more.”

He’s the one that chuckles now, moving his hand to curl carefully around your neck. He craves to see your face right now, to see how beautifully fucked out you look because of him, but he resists the urge. He sits there, cock softening inside of you and his warm seed spilled shamelessly, and simmers with his own miserable thoughts.

“You’re such a filthy woman,” he tells you.

The last memory of that evening, even later when you walk out of his apartment, struggling to keep your compose and ignore the feeling of his seed still on your core, is you smiling fondly at him.

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glamorizingchaos · 2 years

Text

Summer Rains Part 5:

Beauty In The Rain

Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count: 6.7k

Rating: M (To be safe 18+)

Warnings: Angst, swearing, pining, smoking, kissing, groping, implications of sex, pregnancy mention, genuine human emotions, probably OOC for Javier... whoops. No beta, just yeeted into the void. any typos. Let me know if I have missed any!

Summary: Javier finally decides what he wants his future to be and Chucho wins Grandpa of the year. Reference for the necklace that is mentioned. The Poem included in the epilogue is by Raymond Garfield Dandridge. Who's poem brought me peace when life was not.

A/N: This is a really bittersweet moment. I again apologize for how long it has taken me to finish this story. Life was overwhelming and I was trying to push myself into writing smut because I know it's popular. So I hit a wall because I was trying to force something out of myself that I didn't really want to write and personally didn't add much to the story. So I took the pressure off of myself. There is no smut in here just implications and allusions to it. It is not something I am just yet comfortable writing, but maybe someday. I also spent WAY TOO LONG obsessing over the timeline and trying to get everything to make sense. I am fairly certain some new grey hairs appeared on my head because of it. I gave up. I did my best. I am not perfect and this is a hobby. I have loved every second of writing this ending and I hope you like it too. Thank you so much for sticking with me and for your patience as I lose my marbles again and again. I have so many people I want to thank and dedicate this to. So many people who without them, I probably never would have posted this story or continued writing it. I hope they know who they are and how much they have meant to me. If you have ever left a like, a comment, a reblog, or sent me a message please know how much that means to me. I hope you never hit a red light and that your pillow is always cold at night. You are angels and the world is so much better with you in it. If you got this far you are a gem. I hope to write more on this blog in the future but I am done trying to force myself into a schedule. I want this to be a fun creative outlet not another obligation for me. Thank you for reading and without further ado, our two idiots need a happy ending.

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The card slips from your fingers and falls to the counter, forgotten.

The next morning you wake to the sun shining through a sliver in your curtains. Weird… usually I get waken up by a hungry infant demanding a boob. As soon as the thought crosses your mind you glance over at the crib to the right of the bed. It’s empty. Your nose scrunches in confusion but then the light banging of pots and pans echoing from the kitchen catches your attention.

You slip on your slippers and slowly pad your way to the kitchen. Your limbs still heavy with sleep. You find Chucho dressed and ready in his Sunday best for church as he makes breakfast. Sofia sitting in the high chair babbling away with her grandpa. He softly whistles an old ballad to her as he warms up a bottle. You mumble a greeting to Chucho and he tosses a cheery good morning back. You sweep your hand across Sofia’s forehead pushing the soft brown curls out of the way as you lean down to kiss her.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” You question Chucho as you make your way over to the cabinet to make yourself some tea.

“You were tired and there are bottles out here. I wanted you to rest.” Chucho replies simply with a light pat on your cheek. As if it was the most obvious thing in the world. I mean why else did you pump if not for this reason? Plus he was right, you were exhausted. Sofia had a rough night again. Gotta love sleep regression. Your guess was all the change in her routines. She needed normalcy and stability, and honestly? So did you.

Once the bottle was ready for Sofia, Chucho swoops the baby girl up in his arms to feed her. A soft smile blooms across your face at how sweet Chucho is with Sofia. He has a way with her. She rarely cries when he is around and he has quickly become her favorite person. Your baby girl has Chucho completely wrapped around her finger. This is all you ever wanted for your daughter, Sunday morning breakfasts and a family that is bursting with love. Lost in thought, the creak of a floorboard draws your attention to the doorway. Javier had paused before entering the kitchen, the bags under his eyes were dark and he still had yesterday’s clothes on. Your eyes meet his weary dark orbs, and his frown deepens as he looks back, almost studying you. You shifted under his gaze like a bug under a microscope.

A wave of annoyance begins to build in the pit of your stomach. Javier has no right to judge you when you did nothing wrong in the first place. You straighten your back and cool your expression into one of annoyed indifference. He quickly looks away from you as if your gaze burned him. He makes his way into the room and pats his dad on the shoulder in greeting as he swipes a mug for his coffee.

“You look awful mijo.” Chucho was never one to pull a punch.

“Gee, thanks Pop.” Javier’s voice was devoid of any emotion as he slumped on the counter with his chin pressed to his chest. Javier really did look a mess and he looked pale. You felt the familiar pinprick of tears start to burn your eyes, everything that led you both down this path started with your lie. You want to be furious at him; to yell, scream, smash something, but you can’t move. You are frozen as the quiet guilt rages a war in your brain. You blink and try to will away the traitorous tears threatening to spill and notice Chucho staring at you with a wary gaze. You quickly excuse yourself mumbling about taking a shower. Anything to escape, to give you time to think.

Chucho inhales deeply as he watches you practically sprint out of the kitchen. He turns to his son, brooding and quietly sipping his coffee with his eyes closed. Chucho looks down at Sofia’s milk-drunk, blissed-out expression and slowly walks over to set her down in the pack n’ play set up in the corner of the kitchen. It used to be in the living room but Sofia got fussy when she couldn’t see Chucho cook.

“You know one day you are gonna push people too far and they won’t keep coming back for more.” Chucho stares counting Sofia’s soft breaths as he addresses Javier.

Javier slowly opens his eyes as his jaw rocks. “I know.”

Chucho turns and points down the hall towards where you are, “That woman is at her breaking point. And look at you! Pale and smelling like a chimney. I cannot sit here and watch the two of you destroy each other. Either figure out what you want and fight for it or just stop and let her go.” Chucho’s tone was severe as he verbally lashed his son.

“Pops I-” Javier’s throat was dry and his voice cracked pitifully.

“No. I am taking Sofia to Church. You-” He stabs his pointer finger into Javier’s chest “Are going to talk to her. You are letting your happiness slip away from you. No one is taking it away.” Chucho reaches into his pocket and presses the small black card you left on the counter into Javier’s free hand. “If this is enough to sway you then you are far stupider than I thought you were.”

The card feels cold in Javier’s hand. His dark eyes stare unblinkingly at it. Not even looking up when Chucho leaves the room with Sofia in tow. He turns the thin piece of paper over and over between his fingers. How could he have let something so small, so meaningless burrow under his skin? He knows his father is right. He has to stop letting this fear and insecurity control him and make him lash out at you. He needs to make a choice and he needs to make it now.

“Oh, did Chucho leave?” Your voice, soft and missing its usual melodic tone, tears Javier’s eyes away from the card. There you are standing in the hallway hair still damp from your shower but loosely braided to the side. You have your favorite navy blue linen overalls on, the ones you like to wear to clean around the house. You are a vision of domestic bliss. But he can see the weariness in your eyes. The hollowness that lingers in them now.

Javier clears his throat roughly, shoving the card into his pocket. He has no idea how long he has been standing staring at it. “Uh yeah, he took Sofia to church with him.”

“Oh. Okay.” Your voice is void of emotion or any of your usual lightness. Javier feels stiff and awkward like his limbs are full of sand and he doesn’t know how to be around you anymore.

You turn to walk away from him and Javier starts panicking. Is it too late? Has he pushed you too far?

Before he can talk himself out of it, Javier blurts out the one question he should have asked the day you arrived in Texas. “Can we talk for a second?”

The silence was deafening. You stopped mid-step towards your bedroom and did a half-turn back to him. Your brows furrowed as you studied the man before you. The Javier that stood before you now was not the same Javier you left behind in Colombia. So many things have changed, for both of you. The wrinkles around his eyes have grown more prominent and the gray in his hair is more noticeable. He still stands with his hands on his hips and hunched shoulders, always carrying the weight of the world on his back. But it was something in his eyes, those piercing eyes that once glowed like embers lost that spark and fire, that once spoke to you. Javier’s dark orbs transfixed you, their darkness overwhelming but there was a sadness to them now. A haunting darkness in them that goes deeper than you knew.

“Sure” You held his stare for a moment, trying to maintain a calm demeanor. His eyes widened as if he assumed you’d refuse his request.

Javier quickly shook the surprise from his face and schooled his expression back to its normal frown. He motioned towards the porch and opened the front door for you. You slowly lowered yourself into the nearest rocking chair as Javier leaned on the railing across from you. The crack of the front door shutting echo across the ranch. Javier cleared his throat as he flexed his hands on the railing and stared at a crack in the porch floor. He would kill for a cigarette. Or a bottle of whiskey.

“So, um, what did you want to talk about Javier?” You never used to call him Javier so much. Only when you pretended to be angry at him or when you were teasing him. It used to be fun, hearing you huff it out between laughs or moan it in his ear. Now his name on your lips is a reminder of the mess everything has turned into. Of all the mistakes he’s made. Of the lies, he’s told. All the reasons you left him. All the reasons that he hates himself. No wonder you left and maybe you should again. Maybe that is what’s best.

–

“Javier?” You calling his name a second time caught his attention and his eyes finally met yours briefly before looking away again.

“Right. Yeah. I wanted to discuss your plans.” Javier’s hand scrubbed the back of his neck as he avoided your gaze.

“My plans?” You schooled your face into the picture of neutrality.

Javier huffed in frustration, “Yes. Your plans. Shit, you know what I am trying to say here.”

A cold fire lit behind your eyes, a predator eying their prey as they narrowed. “No Javier I don’t. I don’t know what I am doing here. I thought I did, for a moment I thought I knew what you wanted. Now? I am lost. You want to know my plan? I don’t have one. Not since you showed up in Miami and turned my whole life upside down.” You released a heavy breath trying to calm that fire that sparked in your veins.

Javier’s eyes flashed with anger and he set his jaw before he continued pressing, “I know that everything has not been the easiest lately, that I have not been the easiest to deal with-”

You scoff and wrap your arms around yourself. “Because everything was always so perfect between us.”

That struck a chord with Javier. He made mistakes. Tons of them even; but he always did what he thought would protect you. To keep you hidden from his world, from him, and the darkness that followed. He nearly growled his response, “I did what I had to do to keep you away from all that shit. To protect you.”

“Protecting me? Is that what lying to me about sleeping with your informants, all while you were fucking me is? Pretty sure that is exactly the opposite of protection Peña.”

Javier’s eyes turned cold and his next words cut you like a knife, “Well, I didn’t fucking leave without a damn word and hide a child from you.”

“You didn’t exactly give me any reason to stay. I was just a casual fuck to you and we both know if I hadn’t left, you would have.” You internally curse yourself for the tears brimming your eyes. You hate that after everything he still has this power over you, over your emotions.

Javier's whole body goes stiff, his voice is quiet barely audible above the sound of the ranch. “Is that really what you think of me?”

You lock eyes with his. Your anger quickly begins to dissipate the minute you see the pain in his eyes. “I-” You start but stop yourself.

Javier shakes his head as if he can shake the heartbreak away, “No. I don’t want to fight with you. This isn’t coming out right. I didn’t mean to..” But his voice trails off. He is desperately trying to find the words to tell you all the feelings and emotions that have been storming around in his head since the day you left.

It is a minute before either of you speaks. “I didn’t sleep with my informant that night. The one before you left.”

“What?” Your voice is barely a whisper over the frantic beating of your heart thumping in your ears.

“I hadn’t slept with any of them for a while. People just assumed and I never corrected them. I-I didn’t want to. I couldn’t admit to them or myself that you meant more to me than I let on. That you still do. I am sorry that I fucked up so much back then. That I pushed you away and made you feel that I would rather you run away than tell me you were pregnant. I am so sorry.” The tears in Javier’s eyes were clear as day.

“Javier” You slide out of the chair and stood behind him. Before thinking you reached your hand out and touched his shoulder. “No. I am sorry. What I did was unforgivable. I knew how much you did to protect me and I left like that knowing it would scare you. But in that moment, all I wanted was for you to hurt as much as I did. I was stupid and angry. What I did was selfish and cowardly, even if I thought I was protecting Sofia. I should have stayed and fought for this. How can you ever forgive me?”

“I did the moment I saw you with Sofia.” Javier’s hands find their way to your cheeks and he wipes away the tears streaming down them.

“Where do we go from here?” Your hand finds its way to his cheek as you look at Javier.

He rests his forehead on yours, “I don’t know.” He slowly leans in and brushes his lips against yours. Giving you every opportunity to push him away. But you don’t. Your arms wrap around his neck and pull him as close to you as possible, needing the grounding force of his body against yours.

Javier’s hands move to your neck, your waist, your hair, and back to your face. His scent surrounds you. He pours every ounce of emotion within him into this kiss. He pulls you flush against his chest and a whimper falls from your mouth. It only urges him on and he deepens the kiss, sliding his tongue against your bottom lip. Begging you to let him in, to let him taste you again.

You immediately give in to him. To the feelings coursing between the two of you. You reach up and pull his hair and a deep growl reverberates from Javier’s chest. His hands slide their way to your hips, then to your ass and he squeezes. It’s as if he thinks if he lets go of you, this would have all been a dream. His movements are hurried and needy. He is desperate for more of you.

You finally pull away to breathe but Javier just continues kissing down your jaw to your neck. He finds your ear lobe and sucks it into his mouth and pulls. Scraping his teeth on the delicate flesh. “Let’s go inside.” He whispers into your ear but you are jello in his arms. Hardly able to think straight. He slowly starts walking you backwards into the house. As you cross the threshold into the front hall your hands grip his jacket, trying desperately to tear it off him. Javier drags his mouth away from your neck long enough to rip his jacket and shirt off before descending onto your lips again.

This time as he crashes his lips to yours he grabs a handful of your ass and yanks you into him, his leg falling between yours. You let out a sharp gasp which he takes quick advantage of and pushes his tongue into your mouth. It's clumsy and frantic how the two of you grip each other. Trying to get as close as humanly possible. Your back slams into the nearest wall as you reach for the belt loops in Javi’s jeans and drag him impossibly close to you. As he is pressed against you Javi lets a deep groan loose as he drags his teeth down your throat, nibbling and sucking on the sensitive skin, leaving marks as he goes.

You are drowning in him. The sensation of his body pressed against yours, his hands digging into your ass, your thighs, tugging on your hair. The feeling of his lips on yours after so long without him. It's all too overwhelming, this is all you have been thinking about since the day he burst back into your life. Javier pulls away from your neck and brings his hands to the sides of your face.

“Wait, wait… Is this okay?” His voice is gravelly and lower than usual. His deep brown eyes are burning into yours. You want to laugh. Of course, this is more than okay, this is all you crave anymore. Javier. He consumes every waking thought and he invades your dreams. He is the biggest nuisance and he is everything you have wanted.

“No.” The minute the word leaves your mouth Javier shifts to move away from you but you stop him by grabbing his belt and pulling him back in. “No this is not okay. This is perfect.”

The two of you fall back into a familiar dance; your bodies fitting together perfectly, like two harmonies coming together in perfect time. Javier knows exactly which strings to pluck to make you sing, he has every curve, dimple, scar, and stretch mark memorized. As you lay back trying to regulate your heartbeat, you find Javier tracing the new marks on your stomach; gifts from the beautiful daughter you both brought into this world. He lightly runs his fingertips up and down, side to side. Silently adding them to his memory of you. He every so often presses soft kisses on your hairline. After a few silent moments, his eyes finally meet yours, a small smile decorating his face. You reach up and trace the lines at the corners of his eyes. You both have changed so much but at this moment, here, it suddenly feels like no time has passed between the two of you. You are back at his apartment in Colombia with a cool breeze blowing through the window carrying the smell of the Arepa shop down the street.

Javier’s hand paused in its path, “I know we have so much yet to figure out-”

“Please let's not do this now.” You begged him not wanting to ruin this perfect moment.

“Will you ever just let me finish a sentence?” Javier sits up to look down at your face, a playful glint in his chocolate eyes.

You lean up and place a chaste peck on his lips, “Nope.” and try to turn away from him.

“You are gonna want me to finish this one.” Javier takes the chance to playfully pinch your sides and laughs as you yelp and try to squirm away from him. “I know we have a lot to talk about and figure out. But I want you to know that I am all in. I want to build a life with you and our daughter, I want a house and a dog and the fucking white picket fence. I want it all. But I want it with you. I love you. Te Amo mi alma. Tienes todo mi corazón y siempre lo tendrás.”

You stared wide-eyed up at him, completely frozen in place. Javier starts to panic. He pushed you for more than what you were ready for. He said too much too fast. Javier Peña, ever the fucking moron. Why can’t he ever keep his fucking mouth shut? Should he take it back? No that would be so much worse. Javier was so lost in the spiral of self-doubt and intrusive thoughts that he didn’t even notice the tears beginning to overflow out of your eyes or the way that your hand was squeezing his. When you reached up and held his cheeks in your hands he was finally able to silence his thoughts.

“You are everything I have ever wanted and I promise you I will work every day to show you how much I love you and to make up for all the time we lost because I was stupid and scared. You, Javier Peña, are the most frustrating man on the planet. You are stubborn and pig-headed and you make me want to scream half the time. But you are also the most generous, kind-hearted, and selfless man I have ever met. You gave me a daughter and I cannot thank you enough for that gift. I love you with my whole heart and I cannot wait to build a future with you.”

“You scared me there for a second Hermosa. I thought I had lost you there.” Javier quickly wipes a traitorous tear than escaped his eye. “And you have nothing to make up for mi amor.”

“Yes. I do. I am not going anywhere. I am all in.”

Javier leans down and places another soft kiss along your hairline before sitting up and stretching his arms above his head. He slowly stands as you lean your head back and close your eyes, taking in the moment. You hear him rifling through his pants on the floor by the bed, his belt buckle jingling and then softly thumping on the ground.

“Dammit” Javier huffs under his breath and snatches his briefs from the scattered pile of clothes around the floor.

“What's wrong?” You keep your eyes closed starting to feel the tug of sleep starting to drag you under.

“My cigarettes are in my jacket pocket. I’ll be right back.”

Javier closes the door lightly, knowing that you are starting to fall asleep and not wanting to disturb you. He follows the trail of clothes from his bedroom to the hallway until he finds his jacket tossed on top of Sofia’s stroller. He begins digging through the pockets for his pack of cigarettes.

“¿Buscas estos?” Javier turns and sees Chucho leaning in the doorway, the red carton of cigarettes dangling in his hand. “Las cosas salieron bien, ya veo?”

Chucho smirked as he gestured to the random pieces of clothing and shoes tossed around the hallway leading to Javier’s room. Javier cleared his throat awkwardly and snatched the cigarettes out of his dad’s hand. He slides one out and Chucho pulls a lighter out from his back pocket and tosses it to Javier. The cigarette glowed a vibrant orange as Javier lit it and took a long drag before tossing the lighter back to Chucho.

“Uh, sí. Sí, lo hicieron.” Javier returned his father’s smirk with a goofy grin. “Realmente bien. ¿Dónde está Sofía?”

“Dormido. Ni siquiera llegó a comulgar antes de desmayarse.” Chucho turned to walk back into the living room as Javier let the cigarette dangle from his mouth and started collecting the miscellaneous clothing strewn about.

“Recuerda usar protección esta vez. No tenemos lugar para más sorpresas.” Chucho called from the living room. Javier rolled his eyes and made his way back to his room. Back to where you were waiting for him.

Things weren’t perfect. They never would be; you two aren’t exactly saints. But the sight that lay before him in his room reminded him that doesn’t matter. You were curled up in a ball in the middle of his bed with blankets scattered around and halfway on the floor and he could hear your soft snores fill the air. He pulled the blankets around you and contorted himself to fit next to you. He leaned back on the headboard and stared down at your sleeping form silently through the haze and smoke. He could hear Chucho as he moved about in the kitchen. The clangs of pots and pans combined with the soft rhythm of your slow breaths and soft snores. For the first time in a very long time, Javier felt completely at peace. He knew that he would rather fight with you than live another day without you. He knew in that moment that Sofia was the greatest gift to have ever happened to him; that you gave him that gift. He knew that from this day on he will fight, claw, and bleed for the two of you. His little family. Los Amores de su Vida.

2 years later

“This stupid fucking thing” with a deep sigh of exasperation Javier rips the bow tie out from the collar of his dress shirt and tosses it on the floor.

“Why the hell did you even buy the fucking thing. You barely button your shirt most days.” Steve hands Javier a glass of whiskey. “Drink and chill the hell out.”

Javier downs the amber liquid in one go, shoving the glass back into Steve’s waiting hand. “Forgive me for trying to look respectable on my fucking wedding day pendejo.” Javier swiftly unbuttoned the top two buttons and slid on his suit jacket. He stood adjusting and readjusting in the mirror for what felt like an eternity. Everything had to be perfect. You deserved perfect and he will make it happen if it kills him.

Chucho popped his head through the door, “Es hora Mijo.” Javier took a deep, shaky breath and turned to face his father. Chucho smiled and grabbed his son by the sides of his face and pressed his forehead against Javier’s, closing his eyes for a moment, “Estoy tan orgulloso de ti.” Chucho Leaned back and Javier could see tears brimming in his father’s eyes.

“Gracias Papá.” Javier smiled back at Chucho as he smoothed his sweaty palms on his pants.

Chucho glanced at Steve, “Well then, let’s get this show on the road. Vamos.”

Your knuckles were completely white from the death grip you had your bouquet under. Connie had just made her way down the aisle with Sofia as the flower girl, awkwardly toddling in front of her. If her performance at the rehearsal told you anything, she dumped the entire basket of petals immediately over her head. But you don’t care about any of that. You only care that you are marrying the love of your life and the father of your child. The past few months haven’t been easy, you are marrying Javier Peña after all, the man is a well-documented hot head, and frankly, you are no better. The two of you have fought tooth and nail to be together and to build a life, a future.

Of course, nothing ever came easy for the two of you. Soon after you two made up, Javier decided to finally tell you he had to go back to Colombia. Oh, you were angry, for sure. Javier had to sleep in Sofia’s room for a couple of days before you had calmed down enough to talk to him. No matter how angry you were that he didn’t tell you, you knew Javier. He would never be able to rest until the Cali cartel was finished. He never got over being sent home for working with Los Pepes. He had unfinished business and even though you hated the idea, he went to Colombia while you and Sofia stayed in Texas. It was hard. He called. You sent care packages with drawings of Sofia and pictures. It didn’t change the milestones he missed. He did get leave for her first birthday, but it was never going to be long enough.

When you finally heard the familiar crackle of Javier’s truck on the gravel driveway you felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest. Like you were finally able to take a full breath of air for the first time since the day he left. You had been in the kitchen all morning with Chucho making a welcome lunch. You were covered in flour and didn’t even take your apron off before sprinting outside. You flung the porch door open just as Javier was racing up the stops and launched yourself into his arms, nearly toppling him to the ground. There were tears and kisses and whispers of “I love yous” and “I missed yous” and “you are not leaving again.”

The two of you eventually, begrudgingly, untangled yourselves and Chucho brought a just woken up Sofia to the door. Javier immediately swooped her into his arms and rocked her against his chest. He was able to keep his cool with you but the minute his baby girl was finally in his arms again, he lost all composure and tears began to fall from his eyes. Javier took Sofia into the yard so he could try and get her to walk for him. You plopped down on the porch steps watching them play and babble back and forth. You could watch them for hours.

“Sofia, okay baby girl, walk to Mama. Go find Mama.” Javier walked behind her ready to catch her if she tumbled backward. Though she was walking on her own now, she was still unsteady and fell often and fell hard.

“C’mon baby girl. Come to mommy!” You reached out your arms as Sofia giggled and wobbled her way towards you with Javier in tow. Her stumpy little legs stopped right in front of your lap and you reached for her hands to steady her. As you grabbed her hands, she was holding something in them. She’s been hoarding rocks lately and you reach to grab it only to find that this rock wasn’t in fact a rock at all. It was a small box. “Javier, what is this?”

Javier was kneeling in front of you with his hand on Sofia’s back, “Something I should have done a long time ago.”

Now here you are almost 6 months later and you are waiting to walk down the aisle in front of all of your friends and family.

“Are you ready Mija?” Chucho grabbed your hand and placed it in the crook of his arm.

“More than ready.”

The whole day was a blur. It was full of tears and laughter and pure joy. Now as you sit with Javier on the porch swing gazing at the stars with your head in his lap as he runs his fingers down your back you feel completely at peace, at home.

“I know we said no gifts.” Javier paused his movements as you sat up.

“Javier, you promised.”

“I know but, I couldn’t help myself.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a long slender, black velvet box. “Open it.”

“This is not fair. I don’t have anything for you!” You opened the lid and the tears were almost immediate. Javier may be the grumpiest man alive but he is also the sweetest. Javier bought you a beautiful silver necklace with three gemstones in a line. “Oh Javier, it's beautiful.”

“It's each of our birthstones. Mine, yours, and Sofia’s. I just, I don’t know, thought it would be nice. To have something of our family for you to wear”

“That's so sweet Javi.” You trace the stones with your fingertips, “It’s just that, uhm…”

“What? What’s wrong? Is it the setting? We can change it. We can return it if you don’t like it Hermosa. What is it?” Javier immediately went into fixer mode. He always took it upon himself to fix any problem you had, even the imaginary ones.

“NO. No. Javier, I love it! It’s just that, well, we are going to need to add a stone, that's all.” You looked up at Javier trying to hold back your smile and the tears. Jesus Christ, you didn’t know you had any more tears left.

Javier’s eyebrows scrunched together as he tried to figure out just exactly what you said. He looked at the necklace then back at you and it dawned on him. “What? Wait. Are you serious?” He reached for your hands as a jubilant smile flickered across his face.

“Yes. I found out last month.” He couldn’t contain his excitement as dragged you into his arms and kissed your head, your cheek, your nose, your neck. You couldn’t help but giggle at his excitement. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“But…but you were drinking? You had champagne and…and cocktails at dinner.” Javier’s words were rushed. His hands were rubbing up and down your arms, it seemed to be soothing him more than it was you.

“Connie had the bartender make mocktails and give me sparkling cider.” You reached up and wiped the tears off of his cheek.

“We are having a baby?” Javier’s wide dark mahogany eyes pierced yours. The tears already threatening to overflow.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he pulled you into his lap, “We are having a baby.”

Epilogue

Texas thunderstorms are a loud boisterous beast. The rumble of thunder shook the whole house and the cracks of lightning lit up the entire yard. The rain had been nonstop for the last couple of days. So much so that construction on yours Javier’s new home was put on hold until the weather subsided.

It was no worry though, Chucho loved having the house full of laughter and the thump of tiny little feet running around. Sofia definitely gives her Abuelo a run for his money, at just 4 and a half she is feisty as all hell and ALWAYS wants the last word. She has Chucho wrapped around her finger, and she knows it. Mateo is the opposite. He is the most soft-spoken and sensitive 2-year-old. Always trying to play peacemaker.

The rain drops beat against the kitchen window as you gather the marshmallows and steaming mugs of hot chocolate onto a tray. A new addition to the Peña family tradition of playing card games while it rains, hot cocoa, and playing out on the porch so you can sit and listen to the rain. Just like you did with your mom.

You balance the tray on your hip as you awkwardly try to open the screen door to the porch.

“Ay Mija, let me do that!” Chucho pulls Matteo off his lap and sets the book they were reading down. He grabs the tray from you and shoos you away. “Go on. Go, sit down.”

“Thank you, Chucho. I thought the third time would be easier but this one is doing jumping jacks on my kidneys I swear.” You lower yourself onto the porch swing, rubbing your belly absent-mindedly when you turn to Mateo and lift him onto your lap. “Are Papa and Sofia still yelling at each other?” You tickle his sides and his giggle erupts into the air. Mateo lays his head on your chest as you quietly hum and rub his back.

Javier and Sofia are competitive. She knows exactly how to rile him up. They have been playing go fish for an hour, and he has lost four times. You can’t help but laugh at the ridiculous sight of your husband arguing with your toddler about counting cards as if she is a card shark in a casino.

“Here Mateo, pero ten cuidado. It's hot.” Chucho hands Matteo a small mug he got for his birthday. Steve and Connie got it for him, or “Unca Steve” and “Auntie Wonnie” as Mateo calls them. It had brightly colored jellyfish on it and it was from the Florida Aquarium. Steve took Matteo there when he was a baby and he was obsessed with the jellyfish and has been ever since. When we told Steve and Connie that I was pregnant with Mateo, Steve campaigned hard for Steve Jr. He about tackled Javier to the ground in the hospital room when we told him Mateo’s middle name was Esteban.

“Are you two done fighting over there? Your hot chocolate’s gonna get cold.” You took a marshmallow and pelted it at Javier’s head.

“Ay! Hermosa, quit it!” Javier gathered the cards and Sofia ran up to Chucho for her cup. You laughed to yourself as she convinced him to give her extra marshmallows on the side because “it's always good to have a snack with your drink.”

Javier plopped down beside you and Mateo on the swing chewing away on his Nicorette gum. He went cold turkey in preparation for Mateo and hasn’t had one since. He slid his arm around your shoulders rubbing the back of your neck and he playfully tries to steal marshmallows out of Mateo’s mug.

Sofia, after shoving all the marshmallows in her mouth at once, crawls up into Javier’s lap to sip on her drink. Chucho finished divvying out the rest of the mugs to you and Javier before sitting down himself. A silence fell over the Peña household as the pattering of the rain and the rumble of thunder in the distance created a beautiful song.

This blissful moment reminds you of a poem that your mother would read to you at night during loud crashing thunderstorms.

The clouds are shedding tears of joy, They fall with rhythmic beat Upon the earth, and soon destroy Dust dunes and waves of heat.

Each falling drop enforcement bears To river, lake and rill, And sweet refreshment gladly shares With wooded dell and hill.

Every flower, bud and leaf, Each blossom, branch and tree Distills the rain, 'tis my belief, To feed the honey bee.

I pity every wretch I find Who, frowning in disdain, Is deaf and dumb and also blind To beauty in the rain.

Rain causes destruction. Rain causes chaos. It is loud and booming. But rain also creates beauty. Rain creates stillness. It is also soft and peaceful. To find the beauty in the rain you have to look deeper beyond the noise and chaos. Only then will you discover the beauty in the rain.

You and Javier have been through so much together. Colombia was a difficult time and then everything that happened after. It nearly destroyed you both. You fought and yelled and screamed. You hurt each other. But you did not give up on each other. Together you tried to find the beauty beyond the chaos of your lives. You forgave each other. You worked together to create the beautiful life you now live. It is not always easy. But you both show up every day for each other.

The airy, fresh scent of petrichor filled your nose as the rain droplets thrummed away on the roof of the porch. Javier leaned over and kissed your head as his free hand fell to your protruding stomach. The scene around you was beautiful and a treasure hard-won. A teary smile spreads across your face as you bask in the outpour of love that fills the porch and this home. This moment, this life, this family, Chucho, your children, Javier. They are your beauty in the rain. They are what makes the chaos and strife worth it. They cleanse away the dust and hurt of the past to make life beautiful and vibrant and full of laughter, light, and love. You have spent your whole life searching and now find comfort in the fact you have finally found your very own beauty in the rain.

Masterlist

Spanish Translations:

Mijo - My son

Mija - My daughter

Te amo - I love you

Tienes todo mi corazón y siempre lo tendrás - You have all my heart and always will

Hermosa - Beautiful

Mi Amor - My love

¿Buscas estos? - Looking for these?

Las cosas salieronien ya veo? - Things went well I see?

Sí. Sí, lo hicieron - Uh, yes. Yes, they did.

Realmente bien. ¿Dónde está Sofía? - Really well. Where is Sofia?

Dormido. Ni siquiera llegó a comulgar antes de desmayarse - Asleep. She didn't even get to communion before she passed out

Recuerda usar protección esta vez. No tenemos lugar para más sorpresas - Remember to use protection this time. We have no room for more surprises

Llos amores de su vida. - The loves of his life

Vamos - C’mon

Pero ten Cuidado - but be careful

Please let me know if any of the Spanish translations or usage is incorrect!!

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