#Blacki's ask
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Another sale! Scriddler sketch and it was written for @likelytodiefromboredom and the rest of my readers! Thank you again very much for paying attention to me. I also want to thank those who requested my sketches anonymously.
I would like to write more and more often, but now I have a job and I don't always find the time and energy for this...😢 So here's a pretty big and very romantic story for you. I love you all!❤️❤️❤️
Bright flashes of lightning and thunder shaking the blackened skies caught my attention. Like a small child, I threw away what I had been doing before and rushed to the small and stained basement window. The man bleeding behind me crawled a little more on the concrete floor, then wheezed for the last time and fell silent forever with horror frozen on his face. A heavy downpour poured down. I was fascinated by the drops running on the glass and wiped the stained folding knife.
"It's raining. All mouse burrows are flooded. Small furry animals get entangled in the wet grass and drown… drown … and are afraid." the moonlight gradually faded and everything was plunged into darkness and frightening noise. Jets of water that hated dryness all their existence penetrated through the cracks in the foundation and spread over the bare walls.
"But the heron also needs to return to its nest."
The swamp grew and rose higher, dragging all the daredevils and losers into the quagmire. At the very last moment, when almost all my feathers were soaked through, I managed to fly into a two-story apartment and slam the door behind me. In response, the disgruntled thunder let out its roar in the sky, and lightning through the windows finally doused me with its blinding light. I stood there for a few minutes and just flowed, getting used to the silence, warmth and pleasant smells.
"Oh, Jonathan, you're finally back." Edward appeared in the dark hallway, the click of the switch instantly dispersed the darkness I preferred. The yellowish light of the bulb revealed to him my entire state. A wet suit, a drooping hat, not washed away bloodstains and a slight shiver from the cold in the knees and shoulders.
"Ah! Come with me, I'll make you something hot. I hope you're not hurt." running up to me, Nygma took my slippery hand and dragged me along. His gaze anxiously examined me for the presence of wounds and injuries.
"No. It's just… someone strongly resisted." I calmly follow him, leaving behind a small puddle. Having missed the fact that I had recently stabbed a man, Edward was glad that I returned in one piece, and accelerated his pace. He never once judged me…
I refused to take off my suit and mask, so Nygma could only wrap me in a few thick towels. I like that he always chooses a compromise option, I don't like to argue with him.
"Thank you…" faintly came out of my throat after another sip of hot coffee. Bones rested on a soft sofa, warmth and calmness actively sprouted in my chest. I was getting used to the light. Only here I can feel good and relax.
"It's all right, Jonathan. Tell me if you need anything." the little frog was jumping around smoothly, carefully wiping me with towels and squeezing out the wettest parts of the suit.
"There are no arms or legs, but it knocks on the windows and stomps on the ground. What is it?"
"Rain?"
"Right!"
There was a pleasant smell of something very tasty coming from the kitchen, which provoked prolonged rumbling in an empty stomach. How long have I not eaten? I don't remember. Edward's soft smile constantly caught my eye. He was no longer shy about going without a mask in my presence, and for a long time I did not dare to do the same thing. It's probably a shame… Thoughts about this come to me more and more often, especially when Edward is around. The mask has become a full-fledged part of my life, my second skin and a barrier behind which my past is hidden. But when we are together, the mask feels alien, wrong, a vestige. It's like my face is covered with a thick layer of dirt. I want to tear off the fabric soaked with sins with my nails, but suddenly my true face will push away a dear person?
"Edward… you…" I shyly lower my head and look at the remnants of coffee at the bottom of the mug.
"Yes, dear?" noticing my loss and concern, he sat down next to me. Every time the little frog calls me that, my withered heart shudders and burns with unfamiliar, but such pleasant feelings. A decent amount of time has passed since our confession, but we have not progressed further.
"Would you like to see me… without a mask?"
"Only if you really want to do it, Jonathan."
"I want to…"
"Are you sure, dear?"
"Yes. I can't take this anymore."
Edward carefully took the mug away, before patting my hands in a supportive manner. Trembling fingers slowly crept up to the damp mask and abruptly clutched at the worn fabric. It was as if she was desperately resisting my choice, squeezing, not letting me breathe and trying to merge with the skin. But I confidently extricated myself from the stranglehold and pulled off the mask. The fresh and warm air gave me an invigorating slap in the face. The tousled light golden hair kept my secret for a few more seconds, but a shake of the head finally completed it.
"Oh, my God…" his words trembled and slowly became unintelligible. Shaking his paws, Edward covered his mouth with all his fingers and stared at me with wide eyes in horror. Three broad, rough maroon scars burned on the snow-white skin. The first scar went a long way from the right edge of the forehead and reached the left temple. The second smooth bloody line is permanently located under my eyes and on the bridge of my nose. The third careless seam followed from the right cheek to the left cheekbone, touching and distorting my lips. It was as if flaps of skin had been torn off from me, which spoiled the relief of the whole face. I held my breath so that my insides wouldn't shake, and tried to look anywhere but at the shocked Nygma.
"Jonathan… what happened to you?" but he was really worried and didn't feel disgusted or afraid of me. Surprised, I turn my head and see a my little frog almost crying. It was as if he instantly experienced all my pain.
"It's all… my family inheritance." the scars immediately ached, pulled the skin and wriggled like three fat and voracious millipedes. Then, instead of a stick, in the hand of the woman who gave birth to me, there was a dry and thorny branch, which against my will forced me to try on a bloody mask. Scraps of skin and flesh with splashes of blood stained the grass. Rage and hatred boiled inside, my teeth gnashed, and my nails tore the soft earth. Then my blood-soaked eyes stopped seeing for an indefinite moment, and then acquired a new scarlet color. All the cruel and terrible fantasies oozed out through three unhealed wounds. Large drops fell from my chin and flowed into my mouth. It was a taste of humiliation, contempt and my own weakness, helplessness. No one was going to help me. I was constantly washing off the blood, it didn't stop in any way, and at night insects crawled over my face. I tried to seal them up, paint them over, hide them, just so that people around me wouldn't point a finger at me. But they were always with me now, and only the sight of a burning house with rats locked inside could calm my long-term pain. Other people's cold stares still continued to leave scratches and cracks on my soul, so I sewed this mask with my own hands and finally felt relieved.
"Jonathan?" a soft voice grabbed right at my heart and pulled me out of the turbulent flow of memories. I shuddered and exhaled loudly, clutching my knees. The heavy head drooped again.
"It's very terrible… But I don't think your face is ugly or disgusting."
"Really?.."
"Of course, my dear. I'm glad you trusted me with this. And if it's hard for you, then I will always support you."
These airy, but so valuable and once inaccessible words reverberated with a melodious echo in my head. But I still couldn't move, for fear of scaring away, dispelling everything that was happening. What if these are illusions? False perception? The velvet dream I've been begging from heaven since I was a kid? I was shaking, the air was tangled in my lungs and throat, claws were digging into the fabric and getting to the skin.
"Jonathan… Jonathan! It's okay, I'm here." Edward's whisper calmed me down and distracted me from my discomfort. Small, neat and warm hands reached out to my face. I didn't resist, immediately put my chin in his hands and closed my eyes. It shouldn't hurt… it's his hands… they're caring, they're not dangerous… The pads of his fingers gently stroked my scars, circled my lips and eyelids. The pain subsided, the stretched skin softened and stopped itching. Tears quietly poured down my cheeks.
"It's all right…" Nygma pulled me towards him. I obediently trusted him and rubbed against his hands, huddled against them like a skinned street cat. With a sharp jerk, I snuggle up to Edward and drown in his strong embrace. I lift my head so that our eyes met and froze. It became difficult to breathe because of the beating heart. Without the mask, it was now better to look at and admire my little frog.
"You're… just adorable." for the first time in all the years of my life, my crippled face caused someone to smile. I wanted to answer as well, but I have not yet learned to smile good-naturedly. Then Edward, blushing all over, squeezed his eyes shut and kissed me, after which he was surprised at his own act. It was so fleeting, just one light innocent touch of lips. But there was no stopping me, I needed more. I drag him from the sofa to my lap and resume our first kiss myself. I was also nervous because of the lack of at least some experience, but I continued anyway. My icy lips were saturated with my favorite warmth. We closed our eyes and studied hard on each other. For the first time I felt a pinkish heat on my cheeks. He burned and destroyed all layers of scab, melted blocks of ice, giving my soul lightness, and violently drove the blood through my veins. It was unforgettable and unique when our tongues touched and intertwined, when our lips became soft and plump due to frequent collisions. Nothing has ever brought me such pleasure and happiness, pure childish happiness. Edward mumbled sweetly, huddled close to me and stroked my head, and I squeezed him and crumpled his green jacket. My little frog… I love you so much, I adore you, I don't want to let you go. I will kill anyone for you, I am ready to die myself, if only you would continue to smile and rejoice. I am all yours, and you are all mine and only mine. This island in the middle of the swamp is a small paradise for a heron rejected by earth and heaven.
Because of pleasant feelings, I got lost in time. Our kiss seemed to last forever. I began to understand what movements and what pace Edward liked the most. It's amazing that I can do anything else besides pain and horror. And only my little frog deserves it.
"Dear. Dear?" Nygma was calling me, and I responded with a sharp awakening. It turned out that I dozed off a little during the kiss and buried my nose in his shoulder. But Edward didn't stop stroking my hair, running his fingers through the blond strands and covering my cheek with small kisses.
"Are you very tired?"
"Yes."
"Then I'll bring dinner now, and then you can go to bed."
"Are you… working again today?"
"Yes, but… today I can postpone my work."
#scriddler#riddlecrow#scarecrow#salecrow#riddler#saleriddler#jonathan crane#edward nygma#blacki's fanfiction#blacki's ask#writers on tumblr
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I wish everyone whose daydreams feature many animals/nonhuman creatures an amazing day ^^
- 💚💜🧡 anon
^^^^
#hero my beloved#heater my beloved#berlitz my beloved#blackie my beloved#edgar my beloved#madd#maladaptive daydreaming#immersive daydreaming#paraportal#madd positivity#ask#💚💜🧡 anon
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I just want you to know that your Destiny art, especially with Iberis and Eva, gives me life.
Thank you for sharing your work with us fellow Internet-folk!
Thank you very much for this unexpected message! <3 You made my day!
I hope I gonna continue spamming about them and their lore the next year!
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not excusing bell hooks for being a landlord but hm how are you a marxist or even a stalinist saying we should never touch bell hooks' work ever again because of this. like why do you have so much to say? unless you're an actual extremist and radical and you're actually about it I'm calling misogynoir and walking away because how are most of the ppl doing this, non-black ppl talking to black ppl about this as if we have not been having these conversations without your sticky annoying selves inserted in the convo forever acting like you're doing ppl a favour
#like ok. but lets not pretend the antiblackness isn't coming out because ppl have rediscovered bell hooks was a landlord#love that ppl will have patience and nuance when its a non-black person.#its just very interesting that ppl want to say we should NEVER EVER READ BELL HOOKS! because of this but if i#said i dont want to read any of the stuff marx wrote ppl would come for me telling me to get over it and that him hating black ppl#doesnt mean anything. might even get a 'when a snowflake blackie from 2023 finds out a old white man was racist 😱' statement#but u kno ppl will always find a way to go around smth if its antiblack innit#ask to tag
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How old do you think the characters are?
ALR i can’t give exact ages because i suck at deciding + it’ll probably change as time goes on, but i’ll scribble some age ranges down here under the cut !!
azulin & gordi: i like to think they’re one of the youngsters of the group and aroundd 20-24
pandi: 23-26
sonrisas: 24-26
coco: 26-28
blackie: 28-33
achuchones: 20-24
gemelos mimosin: youngest of the bunch, 18-20
padre: 40-46
caricias: 36-44..?? not 100% sure for him tbh lol
pompon: 25-29
grimaldo: 29-32
peludito: 25-28
otto, fluffy & hocicos: old fucks probably 45+, im not quite sure what the age limit would be in the bears military
#went based off like. average age in the military and stuff#also for coco i went off the average age a couple settles down & has kids lol#i like the hc of blackie having a daughter so he’s a little older than everyone else !!#like i said these might change overtime so yeahh#ty for the ask btw anon you got my gears turning#>headcanon#>asks#>anonymous#unicorn wars
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HAHAHAHA I FIXES ITT!!!11! JUDT GLIKR LUVI FDI!1!
do u liensa ny arts >:3c
~ addfin my tAg at the enfbc chara does
~ kul prdicnesss strawbrrry vuocakr💚
#undertale#duotale#undertale ask blog#undertale au#undertale community#undertale askblog#undertale blog#undertale art#Sans redraw thing#duo!blackberry#duo!sans#sans undertale#I FIXED IT#I MADE IT LOOK BETTER THAN BLACKIE!!#LOOK AT MY ARTS!!! >:3
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blackberry do you like fingers in ya ass?
#undertale#ask_duotale#undertale ask blog#undertale au#duotale_ah#duotale#duo!blackie#deltarune#undertale fanart
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12!
TL:DL Caiatl (and kinda Shaw)
Too long answer:
Statistically, I wrote the most about Cogito and my other OCs but out of canon characters that I like writing that would probably be Caiatl! I'm always worried that it's not accurate so I mostly deleted the stuff that featured her, safe for "I bet on loosing dogs" (which btw ended up being 1/3 of what I wanted because SotHunted happened soooo).
It also features Zavala who I think I've got right. But I don't have much ideas for fics about him nor Zaiatl.
I also wrote one short fic that featured Crow but I don't really like him as a character so while I think that he would fit my angst fics I probably won't write about him again.
But my second (not enough lore, I'm so sorry) favorite character in Destiny is Shaw so I have plenty of fics about him in my draft folder, though I always have to make up a lot of things when I'm writing him. I'm even thinking about making up a name for his ghost (and then just editing it if they ever reveal their canon name). Still, I ship him with Cogito so I'll def write more ship centric fics in the future.
I will also probably be writing something about Failsafe next year (promises, promises)
But in the end I guess I really like writing about my own OCs. Mostly about Cogito but I also have a pretty long fic about an original uluran character in the drafts.
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how are creaky floorboards and her babies doing?
they’re all doing really well! Creaky’s a tired mama, but a good mama <3
Kittens are already becoming so much more comfortable with us! Socializing is going well, they like playing with me when I have a cat toy, and they let us pet them (usually when they’re eating but sometimes when they’re playing) <3
#asks#tigerbeancoffee#cat: creaky floorboards#cat: ozymandias#cat: unnamed black kit#cat: unnamed black tabby kit#we still haven’t named black & the other tabby kits lol; no names are sticking#any other ideas? we’ve tried Odysseus/ody for tabby2 and Agamemnon/Aggie for blackie but they don’t feel quite right#sun speaks
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To be honest every artist has done their fair share of lip syncing but if you’re at a point where you’re doing it for every show that’s a problem but money talks
Tom Keifer, Brian Vollmer and Robin Zander haven't done such a thing last i checked. But you are right. Blackie Lawless may defend backing tracks all he wants but he SHOULD AT LEAST GO GET HELP! Look at Tom! He's still got it!
#livs thoughts#backing tracks#wasp#blackie lawless#helix band#cinderella band#tom keifer#robin zander#cheap trick#brian vollmer#please ask me anything#ask#anonoymous#asks always open
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Hey, I love your writing! Can I ask for some arkham! medical care? Maybe see how Eddie would take care of John in his state. Or how will he try to save him since he doesn't have much time left.
Thank you very much! I'm glad to know that🙏💗
Hmm, I think it would look like this, because according to my headcannons, when John was hurt by Croc, someone else was taking care of him, and Edward was in Arkham at the time.
"Well-well-well. What do we have here?" passing another inconspicuous alley, I finally got to the blinking dot on my radar. It was difficult to see the body lying on the asphalt among the dirt and debris. Only the blood-colored puddles gave alarm signals. I turned off the small device and squatted down in front of my find. All his clothes were soaked through and were torn as well as his face. The broken glove turned into useless scrap metal, some parts almost pierced through the hand. Yes, break my inventions, don't take care of them, Crane, because I love making new ones for you so much. There were bruises on his forehead, the rest of the parts were covered with bruises. But there's too much blood around, so there's a more serious injury hiding somewhere.
"Argh… couldn't you find a better place?" muttering to myself, I gently turned John onto his back with the help of a cane. He groaned loudly, clutching the beacon in his whole hand, which had been sending me a signal for help all this time. Another brilliant idea of mine, which repeatedly saved the life of the stubborn lord of fear. And mine… sometimes. A scarlet spot was growing on his side. That's the answer. What can hold a Scarecrow? A peg. Swollen with water and blood, wooden fragments protruded from the flesh. And how did you just happen to, Crane? At my first attempts to lift him up, John groan, coughed up blood and shuddered with every breath. The air whistled in his throat like in a damaged flute.
"Just try to die now, Crane. Don't count on me to organize your funeral." despite Jonathan's protesting groans, I lifted his flabby body in one sharp movement and partially threw it over my shoulder. He hissed and growled from the disturbing pain, but still took small steps with trembling legs. I held his bleeding wounds and helped him walk, putting half of his weight on myself.
"Kha… Edward… ngh!" he came to himself for a while and buried his cold face in my neck. Goosebumps ran down the back of my neck, but I let John take some of my warmth.
"What always runs and gets lost, but stumbles at the thresholds? The road! We have a long way to go, so don't waste your strength and don't attract too much attention." I whisper in his ear and hold him closer to me. In response, John calmed his trembling a little, clenched his teeth and swallowed a bloody clot. The damaged hand, through a wild pain, lay on my arm and also restrained the bleeding. Excellent. I'm loving it. With a slight smile and a deep breath of the night and stinking air, I confidently walked to a safe place.
It took all night to remove the pieces of wood from John's body. They got stuck too deep and partially split. Probably, during the escape, he fell from a decent height onto some kind of structure. I even had to cut off the dangling pieces of skin. Thanks to a large amount of painkillers, Crane lay quietly on the improvised operating table and did not distract me from the painstaking work. I often yawned and wiped sweat from my forehead. Each piece taken out took away part of my strength. My hands were numb from fatigue and could suddenly twitch at the most inopportune moment, which made him cry out and shake his head.
"Umph… sorry." I bit my lips in excitement and tried to stay neat. When the stage of suturing and a tight bandage began, my swollen fingers got tangled, but in the end I was able to cope with the most difficult task. The metal fragments were easier to remove, and his hand was quickly bandaged. Finally, I wiped the dried blood off him and treated all the abrasions. My eyes were closing, but I had to finish everything so that he would definitely live until the next night. Crane's new face, which had become familiar to me, was even more distorted by heavy blows, but I could still distinguish his emotions under the torn skin. He seemed to be reproaching himself and cursing the whole world for another humiliating defeat. Don't worry, Scarecrow, I won't divulge this secret, but I'll remember it well. I love juggling other people's secrets at the right and intimate moments.
Exhale of relief. Completely soiled gloves were pulled off from sweaty palms and thrown far away. I arched my back, stretched my neck with a crunch, plopped down on a chair and briefly closed my tired and dry eyes. Just for a little while… the darkness is so relaxing and overshadows all thoughts. The physical shell soaked with fatigue ceased to be felt. It creeps up like a predator, but at the same time sweeter than anything in the world. A dream… a dream.
My wadded body was picked up by a certain flow. I was floating, but the next second I fell down, but I didn't crash. My eyes snapped open. My torso was bent forward, and my head was resting on Crane's chest. His hands gently held me and drew me to their owner in a demanding manner. Fingers with blackened and cracked nails were picking through strands of my hair and scratching the back of my head.
"And what happened to you?" chuckling, I closed my eyes again. "I don't want to… talk about it…" he finally spoke in a hoarse voice. "You old straw bag, you don't think about me at all. Stubborn… stubborn idiot." I squirm a little, looking for a more comfortable place on a thin body. "At times like this… all I think about is you. All my hope… is only in you, Edward." the words came out in a dry cough. "M-m-m. Are you trying to flatter me, Crane?" "Hah… do you like it?" "Yes."
I had to get up for a while and go get a glass of water so that John would not completely lose the ability to speak. He looked with misty eyes at the ceiling, then at me, and each of my actions caused a soft smile on his creepy face. His bandaged hand involuntarily shuddered, which brought unpleasant pain impulses. But I took Crane's hand firmly in mine and didn't let the cramps torment him.
"I'm sorry… I didn't save the glove." "You know I love making new ones for you ."
#scriddler#riddlecrow#scarecrow#riddler#jonathan crane#edward nygma#arkhamverse#arkham series#Blacki's fanfiction#Blacki's ask
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girl who taught you color theory, trying to read your header made me bleed
Oop okay, I had a friend who just told me it apparently is that bad (didn't tell me immediately not to hurt my feelings, which. I can take some criticism it's fine).
Tbh I don't see it, but that's me, and if 2/2 people told me it's that bad, then it probably is that bad (still waiting on other responses), but also I just now tried to look it up on the web (still from my phone) and the difference in contrast is enormous????????? Like, look at this shit what's this
I can see, looking at this side by side, why you'd write that, btw if you think I changed it just to make this response, I did not, I will still wait on those other responses before taking action lol
Anyway whats colour theory I do not abide by that on tumblr just while drawing. On tumblr I just go "orange is cool, orange is my colour, what's a colour that goes well with orange? Blue!" and that's it 😔😔😔 anyway sorry for the bleeding, be sure to donate that blood ✌️
EDIT: Just received some more unfavourable opinions and changed it, I'm waiting on responses to the new header 😔
#blacky answers#anonymous asks#sorry anon but the reality is my bird brain went pretty colour and pretty colour let's mash#it's gotten approved#life is good now
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CAPRICO I'M SO IN LOVE WITH YOU, YOU'RE FUCKING PRECIOUS
Caprico: -makes a mechanical, three-headed, beast-like dog very similar to Cerberus in mythology-
Caprico: -names it Blackie-
Also, Yisu is 💯. I love her so much!
#shining nikki#shining nikki caprico#shining nikki yisu#caprico#sn caprico#caprico shining nikki#yisu#CAPRICO!!!#OH MY GOD HE'S ADORABLE STOP#no imagine walking in on Caprico just making this giant mecha Cerberus and then asking him “um whatcha got there”...#and he just turns with a drink in hand and goes “a smoothie”#AND THE FACT THAT BLACKIE JUST RUNS TO CAPRICO AS SOON AS IT HEARS HIM UGH I AM WEEPING#Caprico's UR needs to have Blackie in it#I don't make the rules the UR just needs Blackie
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U re cool artist:> ily creatures
Thank you very much!
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Rewarded & Rescued {Javier Peña x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 18.2k
Warnings: Human trafficking, kidnapping, drugging, mentions of rape, threats of suicide, mentions of Stockholm syndrome, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, biting, protected sex, unprotected sex, angst
Comments: Undercover working for Escobar, Javier is given a horrible gift. A woman, an American. Kidnapped from a club and presented to him as a reward. Unable to let you know who he is, all he can do is reassure you that he won't hurt you. Until you work out that he's not quite what he seems.
A/N: Despite being an American, there are no physical descriptions of the reader. Conversations are in Spanish until indicated they are in English.
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.
|| MasterList || Javier Peña MasterList ||
Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
“Gomez.” Javier looks up from his spot across the room when Herdanez comes into the room. It’s hard to react when his undercover name is called out but he forces himself to look up when he hears it.
“¿Sí?” He asks, stubbing out his smoke in the ashtray.
“Boss will see you now.” He says and Javier stands up and makes his way into the office. Escobar stands up and Javier pushes down his hatred of the man as he greets him as fondly as he can manage.
“Hermano. You’ve been doing a great job. Blackie said he’s impressed and I want to reward your hard work.” He snaps his fingers and the doors open, a woman stumbling in as she is manhandled by Blackie. He refrains from clenching his jaw. He knows what this is. The reward. “She’s yours. To do whatever you want with. And she’s American.” He grins wickedly, handing Peña your passport and your purse. “She can’t go anywhere without this. Take her and keep up the good work.” He says and Javier clenches his jaw, unsure of how to feel but he knows how to react. There’s only one way. He grins and reaches out to shake the boss’s hand.
“Thank you. She’s perfect.” He says with a smirk and your eyes widen, realizing that you aren’t gonna be rescued by this man.
It had been so stupid to go to that club. Even more stupid than it had been to even come to Colombia. You had risked it, you and the three other girls you had been with. Thinking that nothing would happen to you because you were Americans. Knowing Spanish and speaking fluently didn’t help when you were drugged and kidnapped by a fucking drug cartel. A notorious one at that. Everyone knows about Pablo Escobar. You had joked about buying some coke from him when you were safe in your hometown, planning this trip. Meeting him had been less than joyous though, your friends' fates possibly even worse than your own. They had talked about sharing the others with Escobar’s sicarios, letting all the men fuck them. It seems like you have the privilege of just being raped by one man, instead of numerous ones. “Please.” You shake your head, tears streaming down your cheeks and your jaw hurts where the one they call Blackie had punched you. “I just want to go home.” You beg. “I just want to go home.”
Javier wants to shoot every fucker in there for making a woman plead for their life, for their innocence, but he can’t. He has to pretend like he’s as evil as the rest of them. “You aren’t going home.” He says in English. “She’s going home with me.” He chuckles, speaking in Spanish again, “I’m going to fuck her so hard she splits in two. Can’t wait to see her pretty eyes water when I shove my cock down her throat.” He says wickedly, smirking at the other men. “She’s gonna be screaming out.” He chuckles.
“Are you gonna fuck her ass? It’s cute.” Blackie winks at your horrified face and Javier shrugs, “haven’t decided. Gonna see how she does taking my cock in her pussy. I’m thick so she’s gonna struggle.”
You feel sick to your stomach. So much so that you gag. The only thing keeping you from vomiting is the fact that you are starving, not being fed since waking up in a tiny room after being taken from the club. “Please.” You begin in Spanish and then switch back to English. “Please? I can pay- my parents, they will- what do you want? Please, don’t- don’t do this.” It’s futile, but you have to try, unwilling to become someone’s sex slave.
“Your begging won’t get you anywhere. Nor will your money. Come on chica. I want to get you home.” Javier says in English as he grabs your arm from Blackie. He drags you against him and you struggle. “Don’t struggle. Unless you want me to put a fucking bullet in your brain.” He hisses in warning as he drags you out of the room to Escobar and Blackie grinning and clapping their hands in approval.
“No. No, no, no, no.” You try to fight him, to pull away even with the threat of death. It would be better than your future. You would rather be dead than to endure whatever this disgusting man would have in store for you. The fact that he’s actually attractive doesn’t even register, unable to believe anyone so vile could be remotely good looking. Your wrist hurts from how tight he is gripping it and you feel like your shoulder is going to wrench from the socket as hard as you are pulling back against him. Fruitlessly fighting the inevitable as he drags you out to a four door jeep. “No! Help! Someone please!” You scream, even though there is no one around, obviously planned that way.
He growls at you, “no one is gonna hear your cries here, sweetheart. Just shut the fuck up.” He demands, needing you to be quiet so he can get you up to his apartment and tell you he’s not gonna touch you. He slams the door after shoving you in the back seat and he gets on quickly, locking the doors before he starts the car. You press up against the wall of the car, shaking, and Javier wants to tell you it’s okay but he can’t. He can’t help you right now. “Stop whimpering. Makes it worse.” He tells you honestly, “be brave.”
Biting your lip, you try to do as he says, sure that these men take pleasure in hearing women cry. Your tears still stream down your face, wondering if he will kill you quickly, crying for your friends. Closing your eyes, you try not to sob.
Javi quickly navigates the traffic and parks in the garage, coming around after killing the engine to open your door and he grabs your arm, “come on.” He hisses, practically dragging you into the elevator. When you press up against the wall, he pushes the button for his floor and you shake. When the doors open, you remain pressed against the wall and he shakes his head, grabbing you to swing you over his shoulder, carrying you down the hall to his apartment.
It’s almost impossible to keep from kicking and hitting at him, but you keep yourself limp, making him work to carry you. Trying to see what the apartment numbers are and looking back at the elevator so you can run away the first chance you get. The man you’ve been given to is wearing a gun, tucked into the back of his jeans and you bite your lip, wanting to reach it when you get the chance.
He knows where your mind is at. “Don’t bother. It’s not loaded.” He lies, “bullets are in my pocket.” He walks faster and deposits you at the door as he quickly fumbles with his keys, pushing the door open to push you inside within seconds. The lock clicks as he shuts the door and you stumble back, eyes wide and you’re shaking.
“Don’t touch me!” You spit, getting angry. He might overpower you, but you are going to fight him tooth and nail. Make it difficult for him. “I’ll- I’ll kill you.” You stumble back and look around the living room wildly for anything to use as a weapon.
Javier can't help it. He chuckles, shaking his head. "You won't because I ain't gonna touch you, sweetheart." He can't tell you why but he can tell you that he won't harm you. "I - it's a long story but I had to make a show of it back there. I am not - not-" He emphasizes, "that kind of man. I won't touch you. You stay here with me until I can get you out. I can't risk it yet. Gotta make them think that I have violated you to impress them."
Shaking your head, you scoff, not believing him for a minute. He just wants you to let down your guard, to make it easier for him. He steps forward and you leap back, bumping into the coffee table and knocking a letter opener onto the floor with a loud clatter. Looking down, your eyes widen and you drop down to your knees to grab it as he rushes forward. “Stay back!” You scream, holding the sharp tip to your own neck. “One more step and you’ll have to fuck my dead body before it gets too cold!”
“Jesus Christ“ Javier groans, and shakes his head, unable to believe how dramatic you are being. To threaten to take your own life. When he just told you, he wasn’t going to touch you. He guesses he has to make you believe him by his actions, “there is no need for that, sweetheart. I promise you that I’m not going to touch you. I swear on my dead mama‘s grave and I like my women to be willing. I don’t like a fucking struggle. I want a woman to shake in pleasure, not in fear.“
“Then let me go.” You demand, frowning at him. He doesn’t seem angry you are threatening to kill yourself, just annoyed by wasting his time. “I can’t.” He huffs, making you snort.
“Of course you can’t. Why would you want to give up your gift? Doesn’t matter that I’m a fucking human being! You can’t own me, you don’t own me!” You start to yell again. “I have been threatened with rape, torture, I’ve been beaten and slapped around, my friends are probably raped and murdered too, all because I came to this fucking place and went to a club! Now I want to go home!”
Javier winces, knowing that your friends have definitely suffered a terrible fate at the hands of the sicarios but he won’t let that happen to you. “Listen to me.” He insists, “I can’t let you go because then they’ll know and I - shit - I can’t explain it to you but you got to believe me. Just believe me. I won’t touch you. I’ll make sure you’re fed and safe but you can’t leave.”
You don’t believe him, but it will do nothing more than piss him off to continue to argue with the man. He could just decide to shoot you, so you slowly drop the letter opener from your throat but you don’t let it go. Not fighting him will be as good as it gets.
Javier wants to roll his eyes if you think that you can take him down with a letter opener. “Do you want anything to eat? I doubt those fuckers fed you. I’m not much of a cook but I can do eggs and toast.”
You stare at him for a second. Wondering why, if he’s not like those other men, is he with them. When he just continues to stare at you, you nod slightly. “I- I don’t know what day it is.” You tell him. “I was at the club on Saturday night.”
“It’s Wednesday. They kept you in a room with your friends yesterday because you wouldn’t submit and they needed to make you suffer. Weaken you. It’s what they do. Fuck with your mind, then your body. Let’s get you something to eat and to drink. You gotta be starving.”
You shouldn’t take anything from him. Not when you know that he could just be toying with you, but you are ravenous. You bite your lip and nod once, looking around the apartment once again. Looking for any clue of what kind of man you had been given to.
He nods, making his way into the kitchen. He knows he’s taking a risk having you here and you could easily try to run or try to kill him but he has to take the risk. The bigger risk would be his cover being blown. He doesn’t entirely know if you’re a plant in his home to give information back to Escobar. He trusts no one and he can’t risk anything but he wouldn’t touch you. He could never cross that line. He opens the fridge and grabs the eggs and bread, grabbing the bottles of water to give you, certain that you’ll want something sealed until you can trust him.
It’s comforting that he’s given you something sealed but you discreetly turn the water bottle upside down and squeeze it to make sure there’s not a needle hole in the plastic. When it holds, you eagerly turn it upright and quickly break the seal. Gulping down the water in desperate gulps as you think it might be the best water you’ve ever tasted because you are so thirsty.
Javier watches you down the water as he puts the pans on the stove to begin cooking. The eggs start to cook and he turns to look at you, to really look at you. You’re gorgeous. No need to deny that to himself but he knows you’re angry and sad. Rightly so. He is for you. That this fuckers are doing this to other women and getting away with it. That’s why he’s doing this. Because of Helena, because of the lives that are destroyed directly or indirectly by Escobar.
You feel better just by drinking the water, but your stomach is still panging with hunger. The smell of the food making you moan quietly, unconsciously stepping towards the kitchen and the man inside it. “Are you- I can have some food?” You ask quietly. “Without doing things?”
Javier wants to growl out his frustration at you being worried that he wants something in exchange for food. The basic need. It’s insulting. He turns to look at you incredulously. “Are you fucking kidding? I- I just told you I didn’t want anything and this is food. You need food. Like I said, I like my women to give me all encompassing consent and I want them to be fully enjoying themselves. A struggle isn’t a turn on for me. It’s disgusting.” He says honestly, his face straight to convey the seriousness of his statement until he turns back to stir the scrambled eggs.
For a moment, you feel guilty. He seems genuinely disgusted by the idea of demanding favors from you, but he had accepted you as some sort of bonus from his boss. You swallow harshly and toy with the letter opener that’s still in your other hand. “Can I have more water? My- my mouth is still dry.”
“Sure. There’s plenty in the fridge. Go get one.” He says, wanting to give you some autonomy in a situation that makes you feel trapped. He watches you hesitate before you walk over to the fridge and he starts to butter the bread and puts it on the pan to toast.
You grab another water and look through the contents of the fridge. There’s not much, obviously he doesn’t eat here often and you wonder why he’s bothering to cook for you. More importantly, why aren’t you trying to get out of the apartment? You’re tired, hungry and he’s holding your passport. That’s why. You move over to a barstool at the counter and plop down, overwhelmed by everything.
He glances over his shoulder at you as he plates up the food, turning off the stove and he carries the plates over to the counter, setting them down in front of you and he turns back to clean up. “Eat.” He orders you with a point before he turns back to clean up.
It’s probably the gruffest nice thing that anyone has ever done for you, and you want to resist, but you’re starving. Falling on the simple breakfast with an enthusiasm that surprises you.
Javi notices how hungry you are and he pushes the other plate towards you. “Have that. You’re hungry. I already ate today.” He says as he washes up the pans, allowing you to have your meal in peace. He wants you to relax a little, realize he isn’t going to hurt you.
You shouldn’t accept it, but you’re too hungry to push it away. Devouring your eggs and toast before pushing the empty plate away and starting on the next. You might make yourself sick, but right now, you don’t even care.
He’s pleased that you are eating. You clearly need it after those bastards starved you. “I’m sure you want a shower too. I have a shirt you can borrow and some boxers - they’re new…I don’t really wear them.” He confesses, “I’ll see about getting you some clothes tomorrow.” He says, knowing he’s gonna need some help from one of the girls to get the right stuff. All he knows about clothes is ripping them off and he doesn’t want to do that to you.
You freeze for a moment, sure that the offer is just a ploy to leave you naked and vulnerable. His stance is unsure when he turns back to you, as if he’s embarrassed by the idea of not having clothes for you and that makes you relax. “I- I won’t-“ you pause, not sure of what you will say. “Thank you.”
Javier nods, “you need clothes and toiletries. Make a list of what you need and your sizes and I’ll get it sorted.” He promises as he scrubs the pan while you finish eating. He’s not sure how he’s going to get you out of the country without Escobar knowing. He will have to think about it later when you’re settled and not trying to stab yourself or him with a letter opener.
You can’t believe this man is willing to buy you clothes. Frowning slightly as you swallow the last bite of eggs. “Why do you work for a man like that?” You ask. “If you aren’t like him? How can you stand what he does to people?”
“It’s complicated.” Javier tells you as he wipes the counter down before he turns back to look at you. “I can’t tell you why. It would put you in even more danger. I know you can’t but all I can ask is that you trust me.” He pleads, needing you to believe that he’s here to be a good man, not like them.
You have no choice but to believe that he isn’t like those other men. It’s not like you can do much if he is, regardless. Your eyes are on his and you nod, realizing that he looks haunted. His dark eyes are trying to tell you something, but you don’t know what. “The American newspapers say the DEA will catch Escobar any day now.” You tell him. “You might want to stop working for him if you want to avoid jail or being killed.”
Javier can’t help but snort, “sure thing, sweetheart. I’ll keep that in mind.” Unable to tell you that he’s DEA. He can’t tell you anything, just in case you are a plant from Escobar. Your reactions tell him you aren’t but he can never be too sure.
You can only pray that you are still alive by the time that Escobar is taken down. You scrape the plate clean and sigh softly. Your stomach doesn’t hurt any more but you’re emotional and honestly exhausted. Yawning catches you off guard and you try to hide it from the man.
Javier notices and bites his lip, watching you for a second. “You wanna shower before you go to bed?” He asks, “I have a guest room. It’s all yours.” He adds when you narrow your eyes at him. He guides you to the bedroom and shows you the shower. “I’ll get you some clean clothes.” He offers, knowing you’ll want some alone time.
You’re alone and it should be the time that you are running to the window to see if you can escape or signal someone, but you’re too tired. Beaten down already and just wanting to shower and sleep. He’s bringing you clothes so you can’t lock the door, but you do lock the door to the bathroom before you strip your clothes off. The letter opener on the edge of the tub.
He grabs some clothes for you, setting them on the bed, and he wonders what’s going through your mind. You must be terrified. He wants to grab his gun and kill every fucker who does this to a woman. Make them pay. He can’t, not yet. He has to take this operation down from the inside out. He rubs his cheek while you shower, grabbing his pack of cigarettes to quickly light one. It’s gonna be hard to keep himself from thinking about how gorgeous you are. You are a beautiful woman and he can never tell you. You’d immediately be on alert and not trust him.
You feel better now that you’ve showered. Clean. You had scrubbed your skin so hard it practically squeaks and you are glad to trade the club dress that was stained and torn for the comfortable t-shirt and boxers that were waiting on the bed when you had peeked out the door to find no one in the room.
Javier snubs out his smoke and picks up the phone, dialing in on a classified number and giving his code name for access. “Peña. How’s it going?” His partner Steve asks.
“Christ, they gave me a girl. To do whatever I want with.” He tells Steve who groans down the phone.
“What are you gonna do with her? Fuck her?” Steve asks and Javi growls, “fuck no. She - she’s American. I have her passport. I need to figure out how to get her on a plane without Escobar knowing what I’ve done.” Javi explains.
Steve hums down the phone, “let me sort that out. You can’t risk having some girl in your apartment. Jesus, never thought I’d say that.” Steve snorts, “leave it with me.” He says before the line goes dead and Javier sighs.
Back in the bedroom, you are too exhausted to come back out, but you don’t completely trust the man who’s apartment you are in. Sliding a chair under the doorknob would be too obvious, so you put the letter opener under your pillow when you collapse onto the bed, ready to sleep. Hopefully, this will all be a bad dream and you will wake up from it soon.
Javier takes a sip of the whiskey, staring at the papers on the kitchen table while you sleep. He’s trying to figure out where the illegal money goes and who the money man is. If he can figure that out, he can track them down and bring them in. Escobar has had the government in his pocket for too long and they need undeniable evidence to make anyone take notice and question the cartel leader.
You sleep for hours. The sun is gone and the room is dark when you wake up. Making you think that maybe you had dreamed it all when you feel the letter opener under the pillow. Screaming when you realize you really are in this nightmare and not waking up safe and at home.
Javier rushes into the bedroom, eyes wide and gun in hand as he wonders if somehow someone from the cartel has realized who he is and has decided to take you both out. When he sees you sitting up, he glances around the room with his gun drawn. “What the fuck?” He shouts, heart pounding.
Eyes wide. You gulp. “S-sorry.” You bite your lip and raise your hands, leaving the letter opener under the pillow. “Bad dream.” You explain quietly. “I-I had a bad dream.”
He lowers the gun, feeling guilty for you having bad dreams. He shakes his head and shoves the gun into the back of his pants. “Jesus. Scared the shit out of me.” He confesses, placing his hand on his racing heart. “You want something to drink?” He asks, knowing you might not but he needs something to take the edge off.
You tilt your head, confused at the way this man just offers you casual hospitality like you aren’t his property. Nodding slowly, you have to admit that it would be good to relax a bit. “I- thank you.” You mumble. “For not shooting me.”
Javier snorts, “yeah well, I don’t usually hesitate before shooting.” He confesses, “but I wouldn’t shoot you.” He promises as he walks into the living room and over to the bar cart. “I have whiskey and…vodka.” He says, knowing that whiskey is the only thing he drinks so he has vodka for any of his female company that comes over to give him intel.
“I drink what you drink.” You decide, figuring it would be safer to have the same thing he is. He was less likely to drug your drink that way. You scramble after him, wearing the clothes he had brought you and in your haste, you had forgotten the letter opener.
Javier nods, grabbing two glasses and he pours out a heavy measure of whiskey into each glass. He knows you need it and he definitely fucking does. He hands you the glass after letting you watch him pour and he takes a sip to assure you it’s safe. “I’m sorry you’re here. In this shit situation with me.”
“I don’t understand.” You take a sip of your whiskey after he does. “You don’t act like Escobar, joking about what he would do with me if he wasn’t giving me to you. Yet, you had done something vile enough to rate getting a real live sex toy.” You snort. “A fresh cunt as Pablo said.”
Javier turns to look you in the eye, “don’t be mistaken. I’m not a good man. I’ve done a lot of shit. Bad shit. But that- touching a woman without her consent? That is too fucking far. I’ll kill bad men but I won’t kill women or children. I need to prove myself to Escobar but not by violating an innocent woman. I meant what I said…I like my women willing and consensual.”
You contemplate what he says, watching him closely and realize that he really is handsome. His chiseled jaw compliments his sharp nose and is softened by the mustache that is straight from the 70’s. “You must have been a Bandit fan.” You tell him suddenly, thinking about the American movie.
Javier chuckles, “I did love watching Burt Reynolds but I tried the 80s and didn’t like the clothes of the music. Didn’t fit me so I turned back to my old closet and I’ve never looked back since.” He smirks, “most women say it suits me.” He shrugs and takes another sip of his drink.
It does suit him and he knows it. You settle in the chair opposite him a little more. “So you aren’t going to hurt me, but you can’t let me go? Right?” You bite your lip. “Tell me, what are you going to do with me?”
Javier sighs, setting his glass down. “You’re gonna stay here until I can figure out how to get you home.” He reveals, “it’s too dangerous to let you go. They’ll find out I let you go and then it’s my ass on the line. Give me time to figure it out and then I’ll get you home.”
“Why?” You frown, looking down into the last drops of your whiskey and then back up at him. “You don’t know me, I’m nothing to you.” It’s harsh, but it’s also reality. He shouldn’t care about you at all but he’s going to risk himself for you?
“You represent the many women who have been abused or killed at the hands of Pablo Escobar and his sicarios. You won’t be one of the many who have suffered at their hands. You’ll go home and tell the world about this tragedy and tell them that Pablo Escobar needs to be taken down.” He says, measuring your reaction.
You stare at him in shock for a moment, unable to believe that he just said that about his boss. Biting your lip, your eyes water emotionally and you nod. “I’ll scream it every chance I get if I survive this.” You know there’s a good chance you won’t live. “He’s- he’s a monster. One who pretends to be noble.” You snort and shake your head. “I’m so fucking stupid. My friends and I- we joked about meeting Escobar on this trip. Buying some coke from him. I’ve never fucking done coke, but I was so cute, thinking that I could meet a drug kingpin.” You shudder and look back down at your drink. “Wish I had fucking missed my flight. Never come here.”
Javier reaches out to touch your hand before he pulls it back. “Don’t worry. I’ll get you out of here. You’ll be safe with me. You shouldn’t have come to Colombia. You should’ve stayed at home. You and your friends shouldn’t have come but you’ll get home.” He promises, “I’ll get you home.”
“I’m sorry.” You whimper quietly. “This is all my fault. It was my idea to come.” You confess. “My friends- they-“ you shake your head, unable to even voice the horrible things that you imagine they are going through. “It’s my fault.”
Javier doesn’t try to placate you with words when you know you’ve fucked up. He doesn’t want to upset you even more but he doesn’t comfort you. “Like I said, you will go home. I’ll make sure of it.”
“I’ll believe you.” You snort, tossing back the rest of the whiskey and holding out the glass for another. “If I don’t, I’ll drive myself crazy.”
Javier nods in understanding as he grabs the glass and refills it. “You can’t leave here, you understand? If you leave, you die. I can’t protect you outside of this apartment.” He says as he hands you back the glass.
“I won’t leave.” You promise, shaking your head. “If you are actually not going to hurt me and keep me safe, I will do whatever you want me to. I just want to go home.”
“I’ll get you home.” Javi promises, his dark eyes meeting yours as he swears he will do whatever it takes to get you home. “Just do what I tell you and you’ll get home.” He swears, downing the rest of his drink.
****
It’s been a few days that you’ve been in his apartment and Javier has left to check in with the sicarios, having to lie and tell them the disgusting things they’d expect him to do to you. They laugh and he pretends to go along with it, making out like he’s done those vile things to you. When he returns to his apartment, he unlocks the door to find you walking around in the fucking shorts he bought you from the list you gave him. He feels disgusting for finding you attractive but you are. You’re gorgeous and he finds himself thinking about you but he would never cross a line, you trust him and he wouldn’t break that trust.
You turn towards the door and watch him walk in, smiling at the sight of him. “Hey.” You greet him and hurry over the bar cart. You have learned that he loves to have whiskey, especially when he’s dealing with the Escobar or his cronies. Pouring him a drink, you hold it out to him. “I started dinner. It should be done soon.”
“That smells good.” He tells you, groaning at the scent wafting from the kitchen. You’ve taken to cooking dinner and for a man who usually survives on booze and cigarettes, it’s a welcome change in his apartment. “What’s cooking?” He asks as he takes the drink from your hand. God, you’re fucking beautiful and can cook. Any man’s dream but he can’t kiss you. Even if he wants to. It’s hard for him to distance himself when he’s so used to physical contact. He hasn’t brought back any of his contacts to the apartment.
“You had some meat in the freezer so it’s like a birria, but I didn’t have tomatoes.” You shrug slightly as he lifts the lid on the pot. “Hopefully it’s good. Although maybe I need to give you a shopping list.”
“Smells fucking delicious.” He groans, “you’re a good cook.” He says and turns back after setting the lid back on the pot. “You’re - you’re too good to me considering the situation.” He murmurs, sliding his eyes across the room guiltily, knowing that his contacts at the embassy are working on how to get you out of the country without anyone knowing.
“You could be a lot worse to me.” You acknowledge. “You could have given me back. I’m grateful that you have kept your word and kept me safe.”
Javier nods, reaching out to gently touch your upper arm. “I am working on getting you out. It’s not gonna be easy but I’m working on it.” He tells you, lowering his hand when he reminds himself that you probably don’t fully trust him even if he’s given you no reason to doubt him.
“I- I appreciate it.” You murmur quietly, looking down at the rice you are cooking. It’s been harder to ignore how attractive he is since you’ve settled in and realized that you are safe. “I really do. So while I can, I’m going to take care of you.”
Javier is surprised and he shakes his head, a little pleased that you feel comfortable with him. “You don’t have to but I appreciate it.” He tells you softly, “now…you want something to drink and then I’ll show you the new clothes I got you.” He says, knowing you need more clothes, he had gotten the girls who work for Escobar to help him get some things.
“You bought me more clothes?” Your eyes widen. “All I do is stay in your apartment. What you had gotten for me was fine.” You promise. You aren’t ungrateful, but he’s not going to take you anywhere, so as long as you’re covered, you’re fine. In fact, you have grown comfortable walking around his apartment in shorts and one of his t-shirts.
“I just wanted you to have some choices.” He shrugs, a little flustered. He must admit that he loves seeing you in his shirts but he can’t admit that to you. You’d think he’s a creep. “I spoke to someone today who is working on getting you a fake passport to get you into the airport and on the plane so Escobar isn’t flagged that you’re leaving.”
“Do you think that could actually happen?” Your eyes are wide and hopeful. “That’s amazing!” You bite your lip so you don’t cry, noticing that tears make him uncomfortable.
“I’m working on it, beautiful.” He promises, “I’m not that bad to live with, I hope, that you want to go because of me.” He teases softly and he winks at you. You have slotted into his life seamlessly and he isn’t sure how to feel about it.
You laugh and bite your lip again, this time to keep from saying that he is great. For a man who obviously has done horrible things, he’s actually pretty fantastic. He is kind, respectable, and intelligent. You’ve spent hours reading the books in his apartment. “No, not because of you. I think that you might be my guardian angel.”
Javier sighs and shakes his head, “I wouldn’t say that. I- I’ve done bad things in my life. I’m not a good man but like I said, I would never hurt a woman. My mama would slap me across the head if she were alive.” He says, ducking his head and he bites his lip, “when’s dinner gonna be ready? I’ll set the table.”
You shake your head and push him away from the stove playfully. “Go shower.” You insist. “You stink.” He doesn’t, but you want to take care of him. He should relax and get clean. “Shoo.”
He chuckles and nods, making his way out of the kitchen to shower and clean up. He never imagined he’d enjoy this kind of life. The one where he comes home to a home cooked meal and a woman that makes his heart flutter - not that he’d ever tell you that. He can’t get involved with you. You don’t actually know him or who he is. He needs to get you home and safe and he needs to take down Escobar.
Setting the table is so domestic. Like all of this. The table setting is for two, since he insists you eat as well and it’s shameful but you imagine he’s your boyfriend that you are cooking for. That you are together and he will kiss you before you eat. The rice is done and you smirk when you hear the shower start up, knowing that he will feel better after getting clean.
Javier showers and he can’t help his cock hardening at the thought of you walking around in his shirt wearing those short shorts. Fuck, he shouldn’t do this. He shouldn’t touch himself at the thought of you. He wants it. It’s hard not to when you look at him with those eyes. “Shit.” He hisses in English, reaching down to grip his hard cock, knowing this won’t go away until he deals with it. He slowly pumps, imagining you spread out on his kitchen table instead of your delicious food.
You fix yourself a drink too, aware that he doesn’t mind and sip it while you chop the few vegetables he had to make a salad. The man needs some proper food. And not from a restaurant like he had been doing. It feels good to do this, and you can see he appreciates it. Loving how he groans when he eats, you touched yourself last night imagining those groans were his sex noises.
He pants as he jerks himself off, the hot water running down his back as he imagined those little whimpers you make sometimes are from his mouth on your pussy. He wants to hear how you moan, see how you cum. You are as intoxicating as the whiskey you serve him and fuck if he doesn't want to drown in you.
The timer on the stove goes off and you smirk when you open the lid again. It’s smelling delicious and will be perfect the rice and the tortillas. His shower is taking longer than normal, so you don’t dish it up just yet, wanting it to be steaming hot when he sits down to eat
He groans when he cums, painting the shower tiles with his seed as he clenches his eyes shut and thinks about you. How fucking perfect you are. He pants as he rests his forehead on the cool tile as he slowly works his cock until he lets go and washes off the wall. He will do whatever it takes to get you home. You deserve to be safe and with your family. After turning off the shower and drying off, he dresses and makes his way back into the kitchen. "Smell better?" He asks teasingly.
You grin and lean in to sniff him when there’s the sound of gunfire, seemingly right outside the window. “Get down!” He screams in perfect English as he grabs your arm and pushes you down, under the table and sprints across the room to his gun.
His heart pounds as he grabs his gun and presses against the wall beside the window. The gun shots become more distant and he chances a peek out the window. Seeing a young kid running away. It’s something that happens with the young teenagers fighting in their own gangs. He pants as he lowers his gun, tense but glad to know you’re not in danger. You’re under the table so he sets the gun on the side and kneels down to see you. “You okay, sweetheart?” He asks you, again in perfect English, forgetting to keep up speaking in his mother tongue around you.
English. His English is perfect, not even a hint of an accent. He's an American. Your eyes widen in horror and you jerk back when he reaches for you. “You’re an American!” You screech, pushing out from under the table and moving to the other side, keeping the table between you. “You motherfucker, you’ve been lying to me! What is this? Some kind of trick? You’re planning on trafficking me?”
Javier curses softly under his breath at his fuck up. “No! No! I- shit. I can’t tell you. I can’t but you have to trust me. I’m American and I’m- I’m one of the good guys.” He winces at how bad that sounds but it’s true. “You gotta just trust me, sweetheart. I’m gonna get you home.”
“Stay back.” You shake your head and your heart drops. “I- I don’t believe you. I’ve been here for days and you’ve just pretended that you aren’t American! How can I trust anything you say?”
“You have to.” He says harshly, “I’m the only way you’re going to get out of this country. I’m your only hope. So you better trust me or you will be stuck here forever.” He half threatens, needing you to understand the gravity of the situation.
Your eyes widen and you swallow harshly. “You’re an asshole.” You decide, not hungry anymore and you turn around and march towards the second bedroom he had given you to use.
Javier sighs, feeling all the progress goes down the drain as you slam the door and he leans against the counter, looking down at the food you cooked. He washes up and puts the food in the fridge, sighing your name as he wonders what to do now. He needs you to trust him for this to work. He decides to call Steve and see how things are going with the passport situation.
You don’t come out of the bedroom until you hear him leave the apartment again. Sighing as you come out to find that he had cleaned up the kitchen and put everything away. The clothes he had bought are neatly stacked on the counter.
Javier sits in the bar, smoking his cigarette, and the woman walks past. His eyes trail along her figure but he finds the usual fire he feels absent. Usually he’d be chasing her but now, all he can think about is you. He met with Steve in an abandoned parking lot, discussing the details and timeline on the passport for you. Steve narrowed his eyes at him, asking if he liked you, to which Javi vehemently shook his head. Now, he’s giving you space and he knows he has to go home soon to check on you.
Biting your lip, you look at the closed door that is leading to his bedroom. You haven’t been in there before, but now you want to see what this man is like. Walking over to it, you push the door opened and step inside.
Javier downs the rest of his drink and the woman stands at the bar making eyes at him. He smirks at her and winks but walks straight past her to head home. He hasn’t slept with anyone since you arrived because he didn’t want anyone to see you and he has to keep up appearances that you’re his sex toy. It’s been a while for a man who uses sex to process his emotions. He heads out the door and makes his way home, eager to see you and make amends.
You find his room to be really tidy for a man. His bed is neatly made and his dirty clothes are in a basket. All in all, the room is devoid of anything personal. Which makes you wonder even more about him. About why he is working with Escobar.
Javier comes down the hall of the building and quickly unlocks the door. You clearly don’t hear him because he finds you in his room, the door open, and he can’t help but confront you. “What are you doing in my room?”
“Trying to find out who you are.” You don’t even try to lie, you don’t need to. Closing the beside drawer, you stand up straight. “What I’ve found, is that you are either the most unsentimental man on the planet, or you are here - working for Escobar - for a reason.
He appreciates you not lying to him and he knows he hasn’t told you anything. Maybe now is the time to tell you. “Come have a drink with me and I’ll tell you who I am.” He says, jerking his chin towards the door and he makes his way out into the living room and over to the bar cart.
He’s not yelling at you, or demanding you get out of his room and it puts you at ease more than anything else. Following him quietly and sitting down on the couch while he pours you both drinks.
Javier hands you the drink before he comes over to sit next to you on the sofa. He’s torn on telling you but he also thinks you deserve to know the truth now. He trusts you. He knows you aren’t working for Escobar otherwise his door would’ve been pushed down by now and a bullet in his chest. “I, uh, I don’t work for Escobar. Well, I do but…I’m actually a DEA agent and I am undercover working to take down Escobar and his cartel.” He reveals, deciding to cut straight to the truth.
Your eyes widen and your jaw drops open. What you had expected, you don’t know, but it wasn’t that he was a DEA agent. “I- are you for real?” You demand. “A fucking DEA agent? You must have been laughing at me when I said that the agency was close to catching Escobar?”
Javier shakes his head, “I wish we were closer. I wasn’t - I wasn’t original assigned to do this but I have to take him down. That’s why- it’s why I had to pretend that I was gonna abuse you. That’s what they expect of me and if I didn’t do that, I would’ve been found out.” He says with a sigh, taking a sip of his drink.
You stare down at your drink and sigh. “So the DEA knows Escobar is kidnapping women and trafficking them?” You ask quietly. “Good. Motherfucker needs to pay for what he did to me, to my friends.”
Javier nods, “he’s gonna pay. For all of it. He’s gonna be taken down and I’m gonna do whatever it takes to make sure he pays for what he’s done.” Javier promises, “I’m just - I’m sorry you’ve gotten tangled up in this. That you’re stuck here with me.” He finishes with a murmur.
“Out of everyone Escobar could have given me to, I’m glad it’s you.” You admit quietly. “I could have been really screwed.” You snort at your pun. “Literally.” It’s better to joke about it now, to break the tension. Even if there’s nothing funny about what could have happened. “So now you don’t have to pretend with me anymore.”
Javier nods, "I am glad I don't have to pretend anymore, sweetheart. I - my pa would kill me for lying to a beautiful woman." He chuckles softly, looking down at his glass, sloshing the liquid.
Your brow raises at the words he uses. “You think I’m beautiful?” You ask in surprise. “I- I didn’t think that you- you never- I-“ you break off and just shrug.
He sighs and shakes his head, "I didn't want you to think that I wanted to save you because I wanted you to - you know. That was what I saved you from. You're gorgeous and I - I gotta tell you, sweetheart, I ain't got the best reputation around town. I, uh, a lot of sicarios spend their time in the brothels and...so do I."
“Do you beat the women?” You ask seriously. “Abuse them? You once told me that you like your women willing and eager to fall into bed with you. Is that true?”
He shakes his head immediately, "no. Shit. No. I don't - I pay them well. They give me intel and I, uh, I make sure they enjoy the time they spend with me. I haven't been since you got here." He confesses, biting his lip.
“Because of me….” You bite your lip and you can’t help how that makes you feel. Almost proud that he’s not been with anyone else. “Is that because you don’t want them to know you aren’t touching me?”
“Partly. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I didn't want to make you feel awkward and I didn't want to leave you alone for too long. And...and because none of them interest me since you've arrived."He admits, his dark eyes flicking up to yours as he worries about your reaction.
“Do I interest you?” You ask softly, afraid that you’re reading too much into this and wait for him to tell you no. The nod is so subtle, you almost miss it, but it’s there. He wants you. You look down at your drink and set it down on the coffee table. “I’m going to go into your bedroom.” You announce as you stand up, “come in two minutes from now.”
His eyes widen slightly and he swallows down the rest of his whiskey when you disappear into his bedroom. He rubs his hands on his jeans, Adam's apple bobbing with nerves. He is used to paying a woman for sex. You are different. You want him, actually want him, and he holds your life in his hands. He wants to keep you safe from everything...including him. Yet he can't deny what he wants. He wants you. Standing up, he waits another thirty seconds before he makes his way into his bedroom.
Inside his bedroom, you strip down to nothing. Aware that he could reject you or end up being a far different lover than what you’ve imagined but you have to take the risk. You want to feel alive for the first time since this entire ordeal started and ironically, you’ll achieve that by fucking the man you had been given to. Except you are in charge of your body, and you want him to touch you. You kneel down on the bed and look at the door when it opens.
Javier inhales deeply when he sees you naked and kneeling on his bed. Christ, you're gorgeous. He slowly walks over to the bed, his cock twitching in his jeans, and he reaches out to gently grip your chin, making you look at him. "Tell me what you want, hermosa." He orders softly, wanting to hear you say it before he goes any further.
It’s so strange to hear his voice in English after hearing it for days in Spanish. You bite your lip and turn your head to kiss his palm. “I’ve imagined you touching me. Making me cum.” You admit when you nuzzle back into his hand. “I want you to tell me your real first name so I can cry that out when I cum.”
He nods, pleased that you want him to make you cum. It’s what he’s imagined since you arrived. “Javier. My name is Javier but you can call me Javi.” He tells you, caressing your cheek until his hand slides down to your neck. He squeezes it gently and slides it lower until he’s cupping your breast. “Eres hermosa.” He murmurs, “I’ve thought about you in my bed.” He confesses, “thought about making you cry out my real name.” He squeezes your breast before he pinches your nipple.
You gasp out in pleasure at the sudden, brief burst of painful bliss. It’s just the right amount of roughness that you would enjoy anytime but especially right now. “J-Javi.” You whimper, already struggling to keep your eyes open so you can watch him touch you. “Do what you imagined to me.” You beg softly
He groans softly, letting go of your breast to cup your cheek again and he surges forward to press his lips to yours. Pushing you back on the bed as he shifts to hover over you. Managing to kick his shoes off as he straddles your naked body, his tongue sliding into your mouth.
There’s something intoxicating about his clothed body grinding against yours. Enjoying the rough feel of his jeans against your thighs and core when he presses a leg between yours. His shirt is hanging down and you capture it, starting to unbutton it to feel his hot skin underneath your fingers as you kiss.
He’s already drunk on you. Groaning into your mouth as you fumble to undo his shirt and his hand slides down to squeeze your tit again. Unable to stop himself, he pulls away from your mouth, kisses down your neck, and takes your nipple into his mouth.
"Ohhhh fuck." you toss your head back against the pillows and whine at the sensation of his hot mouth against your nipple. HIs tongue running over it again and his teeth scraping over the sensitive skin. "That's- so good." you pant out, running your fingers through his hair and tugging on it lightly.
He groans into your skin, switching over to your other breast, and his tongue soothes the flesh after he bites down. Your moans and gasps have him throbbing in his pants and he shifts to continue kissing down your body, his tongue dipping into your belly button before he shifts to spread your thighs with his shoulders. Breathing you in, he gets a good look at your dripping wet cunt.
"Are you- you do that?" You ask breathlessly, lifting your head and looking down at him in shock. It was rare to find a man willing to even get close to a cunt with his face, but he seems almost eager. "You don't have to- I know that I'm wet enough."
Javier looks up at your confused expression and he snorts, “baby. I love pussy. I love burying my face in a pussy. I wanna bury my face in this pussy.” He says and surges forward to slide his tongue through your folds, groaning as your tangy taste hits his taste buds.
You whine, toes curling up and digging into the sheets underneath you. "Oh fuck!" you cry out, unable to believe that this man has his tongue sliding through your folds with an eagerness that would have you believing the women he paid were actually paying him. "Oh fuck, Javi."
He grins against your wet flesh, his fingers grabbing your thighs to push them back so he can push his tongue deep inside of you. The way you cry out has him grinding into the mattress and he’s glad he has his jeans on still.
Javi doesn’t just lick you to show that he will eat pussy, he licks you like it’s his only purpose. Thoroughly taking you apart one sharp flick of his tongue at a time, with his nose pressed against your mound and his hot breath puffing against your cunt.
Javier groans, loving your breathlessly whimpers and cries of his name, cries of nothing as you react to his tongue. He’s determined to hear you cum, to fall apart on his tongue. He wants to hear your pleasure. He closes his eyes for a second until you tug on his hair and he hisses into your pussy, dark eyes opening to meet yours.
“You like that?” You get your answer when you tug on his hair again and he groans into your folds again. Making you smirk slightly as you loosen your grip. “Make me cum.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking hard, and he needs you to fall apart beneath his tongue. His fingers press into your thighs as he spreads you further open for him.
Your thighs fall open for him. Willing to let him get as deep as he wishes if he continues to touch you like this. One hand buries itself back into his longer hair and the other grips the sheets tight. “Javi- oh- oh Jaaaaaavvviiiii!” You squeal when the next suck makes you fall over the edge and you shake in pleasure.
He works you through it, loving the way your thighs shake and you squeal his name. It almost makes him cum. He laps at your essence, loving the tangy taste as he eagerly drinks up every drop while he works you through your pleasure until you’re pushing his head away when it becomes too much for you.
“Oh fuck.” Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath but you want him to kiss you. Tugging gently on his hair and his shoulder, you urge him to crawl up your body. “Kiss me, fuck, I need you to kiss me.”
He can’t deny you anything. He crawls up your body, groaning your name as he wastes no time pressing his lips to yours. His tongue pushes into your mouth as he settles between your thighs again, grinding into you.
Your fingers slide down to the belt around his waist. Needing to strip him down and feel him. Unbuckling the clasp and flicking open the button. “Shit…” you hiss, reaching down and discovering he doesn’t wear underwear.
Javier grunts when you reach in to pull his cock out. He’s hard for you, aching really after jerking off so many times in the shower to thoughts of you. “Fuck baby. You feel too damn good. You want me to fuck you?” He asks gruffly, his cock twitching in your tight grip.
“Fuck, Javi, you- yessssss.” You moan. Your cunt clenches every time he twitches and he’s thick enough that you will feel him after you’re done. “I want you to fuck me. Take your pants off and slide inside me.”
He nods, shifting off of the bed to push his pants down. He kicks them aside and his cock bounces as he walks over to the nightstand to get a condom out. He wants to make sure you’re protected, even from him. He rips it open and rolls it down his cock, shifting to kneel on the bed. “You sure you want me inside if you?” He asks, wanting to make sure you fully consent.
You spread your legs wider, nodding. “Fuck yes.” You moan. “Fuck me. Please fuck me.” You aren’t above begging at this point. You’ve cum, but you really want to see what he looks like when he falls apart.
He nods, shuffling closer between your thighs and he grips his cock, swiping it through your folds. He groans at the heat of you as he notches himself at your entrance and his eyes meet yours as he pushes inside of you. Slow, not wanting to hurt you. He shifts to press his weight onto his forearms as he hovers over you.
Your mouth drops open as he slowly fills you. Enjoying the slight pinch and the fullness he gives you. “Oh fuck, Javi.” You moan, eyes fluttering close and you slide your hand up his shoulder to pull him down for a kiss. “Move.”
He doesn’t disobey you. He kisses you as he starts to move, slowly pulling out of you and he pulls back to watch your face as he pushes back into you. “Want you to enjoy this. Every second. You tell me what you need.” He demands, rocking inside of you, a slow pace at first to let you get used to him.
“Want to feel you for days.” You whimper, wrapping your legs around him. “Fuck me hard. Like you would one of the other women you fuck.”
He shakes his head, “you’re not like the other women. You deserve more. You are more.” He says softly, his dark eyes sincere as he looks at you with something close to love but it’s not. Not yet. He starts to move again, rocking into you.
You don’t argue, you can’t when he’s moving inside you. Sensual with just a bit of roughness, it’s perfect. Making you moan every time his hips hit yours.
He loves hearing you moan. He leans down to kiss along your neck, his hips grinding against yours. He’s not as rough as he could be, not wanting to be the man the other sicarios thought he’d be with you. He wants to be soft and sensual. “Hermosa.” He murmurs against your neck, “you’re so fucking beautiful.”
There is a tenderness to his kisses on your skin that makes your eyes water. This man is truly better than anything you could have ever hoped for. Your arms tighten around him and your cunt squeezes him tight. “So handsome. I can’t believe that those men think you are the same as them. You aren’t.”
He doesn’t respond, knowing he’s done bad things to take down bad men, but now isn’t the time to explain that. He continues kissing along your skin, down your chest until he’s taking your nipple into his mouth. His hips move to push deep inside of you, switching the angle slightly as he tries to find that spot inside of you.
“Oh fuck- there!” You gasp out when he hits deep inside you and make your eyes fly open in pleasure. His cock hits against it again and you moan. Your fingernails dig into his skin and you scratch lightly, not wanting to draw blood.
With a groan, he focuses on that spot and he loves the way your nails dig into his back. His cock twitches inside of you and he shifts his weight onto one arm so he can snake his hand between you. He rubs your clit with his thumb, eyes on you to see what you like.
“Oh fuck.” Your mouth drops open in a moan before you close your eyes and your body arches up to his touch. “So good, fuck, you’re so good.” You whine. “We- we should have been doing this from the beginning.”
Javier groans in agreement, “yes but I didn’t want - I wanted you to trust me.” He says, kissing your sternum, “only want you to trust me.” He murmurs, “and now I want you to cum for me.” He rubs your clit a little faster, needing to feel and hear you cum.
“Oh yes, yesssss.” You whimper, feeling your entire body start to tense for your coming orgasm. Knowing that it’s only going to be a few seconds before you come apart underneath him and your breath catches in your throat.
Javier groans as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him and he knows he’s already addicted to you. He fucking loves it. He loves making you feel this way. He rocks you through it until you relax beneath him then he pulls out. “Hands and knees, baby.” He orders, wanting to make you cum again.
You can't believe that he's not already cum. Most guys don't last longer than a few minutes and you've already cum. The fact that he's still going has you moaning even as he's guiding you onto your stomach and pulling you up to your knees. Looking over your shoulder, you grin. "Smack my ass." You order, wiggling it at him. "I did go through your room."
Javier chuckles, “you’re a naughty girl.” He rubs your ass cheek before his palm comes down on it, smacking you hard. You moan and his cock twitches. He grips his cock, positioning himself at your entrance when you lean forward to wiggle your ass. He’s not gentle this time when he pushes into you with a groan.
"Oh fuck!" You choke out when your entire body lurches forward at the thrust of his cock. Punching deep and filling you completely with one harsh thrust. "More." You moan as soon as you can draw another breath. "Fuck me, Javi."
He doesn’t deny you. Grabbing your hips, his nostrils flaring as he starts to fuck you hard. His fingers digging into your skin as he grinds him cock deep inside of you. “Feel good?” He asks, wanting to make sure you’re enjoying this.
"Godddddd yes." You moan when he pushes deep again. "So good." Your head drops down to hang between your shoulder blades and you move down to your elbows. Letting him get even deeper with ever thrust of his hips.
He caresses your back as you shift forward before he smacks your ass with both hands, squeezing the cheeks. His thumb pushes between your cheeks to press against the puckered hole, groaning at the way it flutters with each push inside of you. Christ, he’s fucking drunk on you. The way you feel around him.
"Oh my god." Your eyes flutter wide and then you relax into the sensation of him pushing against that other hole easily. If anyone would breach you there, you would let it be him. "Fuck, Javi, whatever you want, please, just don't stop."
Hearing you say that has him nearly cumming but he holds back, slowly down a little. He likes that you trust him so much. He bends over, letting his spit dribble down between your cheeks so he can press his thumb into your hips while his cock continues moving inside of you.
You whimper when his pace changes, slowing down and you feel. every throbbing vein in his cock scrubbing against your walls. "Oh fuck." You whine, trying to push your hips back, but he as you pinned with his body. "So good."
He loves hearing you moan like this. “You’re doing so well, hermosa. Want you to cum for me again. Want you to soak my cock again.” He murmurs, kissing your shoulder as he leans over you. He’s slow but he wants you to feel all of him.
You grunt as he presses deeper. Feeling like he's pushed up into your throat at this angle. You choke out a moan and clench down around him. "I- just like that." You beg, loving how he's pushing deep.
He keeps the same pace and thrust, wanting to hear and feel you fall apart again. He groans softly when your walls clench around you he him as he pushes his thumb into your ass. “That’s it, baby girl. You gonna be good and cum for me?” He asks, voice raspy and deep with his own pleasure.
It shouldn’t affect you that bad. The way his voice dips down and his words twist in your stomach. “Yes.” You whine, tanging your fingers into the sheets. “Fuck, yes, I’m your good girl. I’m gonna cum.”
“Jesus.” He hisses at your words, his entire body vibrating with desire for you, and he pants as you grind back against him. “That’s it, hermosa. Thats it baby. Cum for me. Cum for me.” He pleads roughly and finally, you cry out. Your body shaking as you clamp down on his cock again and he thrusts into you, trying desperately to hold on but he pulls his thumb out and drags you up against his chest. His grunts in your ear as he picks up the pace, thrusting into you like a jackhammer as he gets closer to his own orgasm.
“Ja-Ja-Javiiiiiiiiiiii!” You squeal as he ramps up the pace, fucking into you roughly and you love it. Taking the harsh thrusts and knowing that the ache in your cunt will last beyond cleaning up. “Cum- cum in me.” You beg, even though you know he’s got a condom on. You still want to feel him fall over the edge. “Cum for me.”
He grunts, jaw clenched as his arm wraps around you and he squeezes your tit in his other hand. “Shit. Shit.” He pants as he thrusts fast and hard until he comes to a stop. A strangled groan escaping his lips as he pulses and fills the condom deep inside of you. His teeth sinking into your shoulder as he squeezes you close to his sweaty body.
The sharpness of his teeth make you clench around him again, milking his cock even more as you feel him ride out his high. “That’s it, baby.” You coo softly, turning your head and pressing your lips to his cheek.
He seeks out your lips, pressing his to yours and he slides his tongue into your mouth. His hands caressing your stomach down to your hips as you both take a second to enjoy your orgasms. He pecks your lips and lets go of you to reach down and grip the base of the condom before he slowly pulls out of you.
When he pulls out of you, your body melts into the bed. Slumping down and you huff out a chuckle as you try to catch your breath. “Holy shit.”
He quickly ties off the condom and leans down to kiss along your back as you recover. “Damn right.” He chuckles softly and shuffles off of the bed. He grabs his jeans and pulls them on before he walks into the bathroom to grab a wet rag to clean you up and then he tosses that onto the side when he settles down on the bed, leaning against the mattress. He reaches into the nightstand to grab his smokes and he wastes no time in lighting one.
You turn to look at him, stealing the cigarette and taking a drag. “Are you ready to go back to your real life?” You ask him seriously. You know that if he’s undercover, he has to be under a lot of pressure.
Javier sighs as he exhales the smoke. “I don’t even know what my real life is. All I know is that I need to take down Escobar. Nothing else matters except that. And I gotta get you home.” He adds, raising his eyebrows at you before he takes the cigarette back to take another drag.
“That’s comforting.” You snort, swinging your leg over his thighs and straddling him. “You will take him down.” You predict softly. “and until I go home, I’ll make sure this apartment is very….relaxing for you.” You promise with a grin, leaning down and kisses him right after he inhales the smoke.
He smirks and playfully nips your chin, shifting to snub out his smoke in the ashtray on the nightstand. “Yeah? Gonna make sure I have a nice warm pussy for when I’m coming home all cold and lonely?” He asks, his hands coming up to caress your waist.
“You fuck me like that?” You huff, grinding down on him. “You’re damned right. Freshly shaved and dripping for you.”
Javier clicks his tongue, “not bothered about the shaving. I’m a man of the 70s, baby. I ain’t afraid to get down and dirty.” He smirks and slides his hands lower to squeeze your ass. “You enjoy it?” He asks, licking his lower lip as he leans back to look at you, wanting an honest answer. He hasn’t paid you to moan for him. He wants to make sure you enjoyed it.
"Loved it." You admit easily, smirking down at him and cradling his face so you can kiss him again. It's fucking astonishing to find a man who is as good as he is under these circumstances. You should be terrified of him touching you, but you can't wait until he is wrecking you again. "Want to do it again. When you can."
Javier chuckles softly, caressing your skin. “I’m not eighteen anymore, baby. Gimme a while. Doesn’t mean I can’t get you off in the meantime.” He smirks and slides his hand lower until he’s cupping your pussy. You whimper and he rubs your clit, “God, you’re still so wet.” He murmurs, shifting to push two fingers inside of you.
“Oh fuck.” You whine, rocking onto his hand shamelessly. “You- you’re so fucking good at this.” You whimper, eyes sliding shut in pleasure. He’s not selfish and that makes you even wetter for him.
He smirks, loving the praise, and he curls his fingers deeper before pressing his thumb to your clit. “Take what you need baby. Ride my fingers.” He orders, loving the way your chest heaves and your eyes flutter shut.
This man is so sexy. You don’t know why he’s not been snatched up, because he’s also a good man despite what he says. You moan his name quietly and roll your hips down onto his hand eagerly. Wanting to obey him.
He watches you take what you want from him. Your hips grinding down on his digits and he curls them as you rock down. “That’s it baby. Take what you need. Wanna watch you cum again for me.” He murmurs, his dark eyes flicking between you and your pussy, his digits glistening when you lift up. “You’re so wet.” He murmurs again, a tinge of awe in his voice.
“You’re so sexy.” You hum, ducking your head down and nipping his jaw as you continue to rock in his hand. “Sexy, chivalrous, fuck, you turn me on with how fucking good to me you’ve been. And you’re an agent? Even sexier.”
His heart pounds at your compliments and he surges forward to press his lips to yours. His tongue slides against yours as you grind down onto his fingers and his thumb presses harder against your clit. “You’re fucking gorgeous.” He murmurs against your lips, “gonna keep you safe.” He vows, “gonna make sure no one touches you except me.”
You whimper into his mouth when his tongue slides against yours once more. You believe him. If he says you will be safe, then he will protect you. Your arms wrap around his neck and you pour yourself into the kiss, wanting to make this good for him too and he seems to really like kissing.
His groan is muffled by your tongue and he isn't in a rush to make you cum. His cock is interested but he's still not fully hard. His free hand finds your breast, squeezing it and pinching the nipple as you eagerly kiss him.
Shuddering, you press yourself into his hand harder, needing more. He's completely focused on you and you don’t think anyone has ever done that for you. You nibble on his lip when you pull back slightly and moan again when he curls his fingers up.
"That's it, hermosa. Can feel how close you are. Need you to fall apart for me. Can you do that? Can you cum?" He asks, murmuring against your chin as he pushes his fingers deep, slow, hard thrusts into your weeping cunt.
“Yes.” Your gasp of pleasure is one that is purely anticipatory. Knowing that you are about to cum again, your body tensing as you move closer. “Gonna cum for you.”
"That's it. That's it." He murmurs as seconds later, you clamp down on his fingers. "Good girl. Good fucking girl." He groans, loving the way you practically soak his hand and his jeans as you shake against him.
You collapse against his chest and pant as you try to catch your breath. Your body is still quaking and his fingers are still moving, although slower than they were before. Turning your head, you kiss along his neck lazily.
He withdraws his fingers after a few moments, his wet fingers squeezing your ass as he rocks you on his hardening cock while you kiss along his neck. "Fuck baby. Want me to fuck you again? Want you to ride me." He confesses when you pull back to look at him.
“I’ll ride you.” You nod, reaching down and palming his cock through his jeans. “You have another condom?” You ask breathlessly. “Want you to sit right here and relax while I make you feel good.”
He nods, reaching over to grab a condom from the nightstand and he hands it to you. "I'm yours to do what you want, hermosa." He promises, a groan escaping his lips when you pull him out of his jeans and squeeze him.
He’s gorgeously uncut and you can’t help but slide down his body so you can take the head of his cock into your mouth. Wanting him to experience your mouth before you ride him. He moans and your tongue presses against the sensitive slit.
“Jesus Christ.” He hisses as you take him into your mouth. “Baby. God. I- fuck.” He groans when your eyes flick up to meet his. He’s a sucker for eye contact. It’s so sexy. You are so sexy. His cock twitches in your mouth and he swears he has to take a deep breath to control himself.
You want to make it good for him. Keeping your mouth soft and sensuous as you work him slightly deeper. Keeping your eyes on him since he seems to like that a lot. Your moan of approval when you taste the salty pre-cum reverberates around him and your hand starts to slowly pump the base of his cock while you bob your head.
"Fuck." He pants, reaching down to caress your cheek, "you're so fucking beautiful." He murmurs, "so fucking beautiful." He can't deny that you make him feel so much more than any other woman he's slept with in years. That scares him honestly.
You hum, sucking on him lightly and pulling off with a pop. “You want to cum down my throat, or do you want me to ride you?” You ask breathlessly. “Your choice baby.”
“Ride me.” He says, voice rough with desire as you slowly pump his cock. You nod and let go of his length. He shifts back against the headboard while you grab the condom and straddle his thighs.
Ripping the foil open, you pull out the rubber and pinch the tip while you roll it down his thick length. Making sure it’s secure, you pump him again while you shuffle forward and line your cunt up to sink down on him. Quickly taking him into your body with a loud moan of his real name.
He groans your name as you sink down onto him, his fingers finding your hips as you moan as he stretches you out. “God, baby girl. You feel so good.” He grunts, his hands sliding up to squeeze your tits as you settle onto him.
“You feel good.” You pant out breathlessly. Enjoying the hot hands on your tits as he pinches your nipples again. “Oh fuck, oh fuck Javi.” You whine, leaning back and letting your head fall back between your shoulders. “You’re so deep like this.”
He groans, his eyes flicking down to look at where he’s disappearing inside of you. “Jesus Christ, baby. You’re so good. Look so good.” He says as you lean back and he slides his hand across your stomach until he’s pressing his thumb against your clit.
“Fuck, Javi.” You whimper, your cunt clenching around him when he starts to rub small circles in your bundle of nerves. “You know every trick in the book, don’t you?”
He chuckles darkly, “had a lot of practice. Lost my virginity when I was fourteen.” He confesses while rubbing your clit a little faster. “Also, wanna see you cum. Like seeing you cum. You’re so gorgeous.” He reveals, leaning in to gently kiss along your shoulder.
“Hard not to feel gorgeous when I have your attention.” You admit with a sigh, enjoying the slight tickle of his mustache. “You should have a dozen kids by now.”
He snorts, “I’m careful. Always keep it wrapped and I haven’t had any accidents. Haven’t had anyone come forward yet. Why? You volunteering?” He asks with a smirk.
You moan softly, clenching down even as you grin. “That would be a conversation to have, wouldn’t it? Asking how you go together and having to explain that you knocked up the woman a drug dealer gave you. But she wanted you to.”
“Hell of a story.” He agrees, “I definitely don’t think you should get pregnant right now. I would have to kill every fucker in this goddamn country to protect you.” He says with a hiss.
Your brow arches up in surprise, you had expected him to laugh off your comment. Instead you hum in agreement and lean in to kiss his lips. “Agreed. The condom stays on.” You squeeze him again and bounce a little harder on his cock.
He’s a little relieved but also a little disappointed. He doesn’t deny that the idea of seeing you pregnant is tempting but it’s irresponsible. Beyond imagination. He has to keep you safe and that includes all aspects of your physicality. He groans when you bounce harder again. “Christ, baby.” He murmurs, “so fucking good.”
You can barely push out a light chuckle, so breathless from how his cock is hitting inside you. Deep and thick, he presses against all the wonderful spots that make your body tense every time you slam back down on his lap.
“That’s it. You gonna make yourself cum on my cock like a good girl?” He asks, licking his thumb again to press it to your clit as your hands press against his chest for balance. “So beautiful riding my cock like a goddamn rodeo.” He pants, “seen less professional ones in Texas.” He jokes breathlessly
“Ohhhh fuck!” You moan, jerking slightly at the pressure. “Yeah? You’re a Texas boy?” You ask, wanting to know more about him.
"Born and raised. Laredo." He reveals and he groans, "fuck. I- I need you to cum for me again, sweetheart. You - you're so fucking tight." He hisses when your walls flutter around his cock.
You whine, nodding as your hands brace on his broad shoulders. Increasing your pace until you are practically galloping on him. Moaning out his name until that last roll of your hips and your entire body stiffens and you scream his name.
He groans when you clamp down on his cock, your body putting him in a vice grip that he struggles to move within but he shifts onto his knees, your legs around his waist as he thrusts up into you. "Fuck. I- I'm gonna cum." He warns, unable to withhold like he did last time when you're so fucking tight around him and you sucking him off before. "Mierda. I - fuckkkk." He hisses as he bites down on your shoulder
You moan softly when you feel him throbbing inside you. “Thank you.” You whisper, closing your eyes and holding him close. “Thank you for caring for me, protecting me, satisfying me.” You know that it’s crazy but you turn your head and kiss his neck. “I’m falling in love with you.”
Normally, Javier would be shit scared. He would've been running for the hills hearing those words but he can't run away from you. Especially when he feels the same way, it's terrifying. To have something - someone - to lose when he's fighting for his life in this undercover mission. One wrong move and he's dead. You're dead. It puts everything on the line but in this moment, he doesn't give a fuck. He pulls back from you to look you in the eye. "I feel the same. We shouldn't. So much at risk but fuck, I love you." He murmurs, voice rough with emotion.
You know that it’s probably the proximity, that once you leave, he will never think of you again, but you smile into his neck and sigh happily. Your fingers caressing his back gently. “Good.” You hum, basking in the moment and stealing every second of joy life will give you. “That’s good, baby.”
****
A few weeks go by and you're settled in a routine. You sleep in Javier's bed at night...well, try to sleep after he fucks you. Then you spend your days reading and waiting for Javier to return home. One day, he comes back and you greet him with a kiss but he doesn't seem enthusiastic. "What's wrong?" You ask and his dark eyes look sad as he holds up the passport in his hand.
"Got your fake passport. You're booked on the first flight home in the morning." He says, swallowing harshly.
“Oh.” Your heart drops and you immediately have to look away from him, eyes watering. You don’t want to go, as crazy as that sounds. It’s dangerous and he’s undercover, so you can’t stay, but you don’t want to. “Well, I- I guess that tonight is our last night together.” You try to sound stoic but it falls flat. “You’ll be happy to not worry about me.”
Javier shakes his head, throwing the passport down on the table nearby and he grabs your waist to pull you into his chest. Burying his nose in your hair, he breathes you in. “Don’t want you to go. I want to stay here in this apartment with you and forget about the rest of the world but it’s dangerous here, hermosa. I can’t lose you and if something happened - fuck - no. You need to go. You need to be safe and I’m gonna try to take that bastard down.”
“You will take him down.” Javi has been opening up to you, finding it cathartic to have someone know that he’s not the monster that the men he is with are. Your arms hold him tight and you try not to cry. “You will, just like you kept me safe.”
He kisses your hair before he kisses your forehead. His nose nudges yours and he tilts your head up to press his lips to yours. He needs to know you’re safe. It’s more important than his love for you. He can love you from afar. He doesn’t want to love you from a grave site. He deepens the kiss, suddenly getting urgent with need for you as he pushes you up against the wall, his tongue sliding into your mouth.
You feel the change in the mood, from sad to desperate and you understand completely. If you are leaving, you want this time with him, you need it. The chances are that you will never see him again. Your hands move, desperately ripping open his button on the shirt he is wearing, scattering them across his apartment.
He groans into your mouth, practically devouring you, and he drags the dress you’re wearing up your body, reluctantly pulling back to pull it over your head and it’s soon on the floor. No words are spoken as he kisses your neck and cups your tits, glad you have taken to not wearing a bra in his apartment.
Your fingers push the stretched fabric of his shoulders and let it fall, attacking his belt next. He doesn’t wear underwear, so the second you can, you are wrapping your fingers around his cock and moaning when you find him already hard.
“Shit.” He hisses as you squeeze his cock and his fingers hook in your panties. He isn’t patient. He can’t wait to push them down so he’s ripping them from your body with a groan. “Fuck. Need you.” He rasps, grabbing your thighs to lift you up against the wall. “Put me in.” He orders, his cock throbbing in your grip.
You whimper his name, finding his need for you utterly intoxicating and you notch his cock against your entrance eagerly. Gasping when he doesn’t hesitate to bury himself to the hilt. No gentleness, just pure need.
He’s driven by desire, love, and desperation. He doesn’t want to lose you but he can’t be selfish. You deserve to feel safe and you need to go home. He can’t follow you and he can’t let everything he’s worked so hard for you down the drain. He groans your name and leans in to press his lips against yours as his body keeps you pressed against the wall until he starts to move his hips.
You whimper his name, clinging to him like he’s going to disappear if you let go. “I’m yours.” You promise raggedly against his lips. “All yours, make me yours.”
He loves the way you cling to him. He thrusts into you, desperate and sloppy but passionate. “Mine. Like I’m yours baby. Fuck. You’re mine.”
“Yes, yours all yours.” You pant, desperate for him to know it, to believe it. His hips slam into yours and drives you into the wall to make you moan at the roughness of it. “More, baby, I need more.”
Javi groans, his fingers digging into your thighs as he works you on his cock, lifting you up and down as he pushes you into the wall. “Fuck. Tell me what you need.” He demands, “rub your clit.”
“Just you.” You squeal breathlessly, reaching down and rubbing your clit. “Just need you. Just you baby, your cock is so good. So perfect inside me. I love you.”
“Oh fuck Javi, Javi, JAVIIIIIIIII!” You scream out in pleasure when your body locks up, core clenching down around him and soaking him with your cum. Shaking against the wall while he continues to pound into you and draw out your orgasm.
He swears his heart stops when you clamp down on his cock. “Fuck yes. That’s it baby. That’s fucking it.” He growls, loving the way you grip him and soak him and he pushes deep, “fuck. I- I gotta pull out.” He murmurs, remembering he didn’t put on a condom.
“Don’t.” You whimper, wanting to feel him just once. “I’m about to start my period.” You are, you aren’t lying to him. You should be completely safe for him to fill you up this once. “Want to feel you. Keep you with me.”
He doesn’t deny you. He groans as he thrusts hard, pushing deep inside of you a half dozen more times before he cums. He pants just before he bites down on your shoulder. “Fuck. I love you” is muffled into your skin.
Your eyes roll back and you whine at the feeling that is swimming around inside you. Enjoying the heat and wetness as he paints your walls with spurts of his hot cum. “Love you too.”
He kisses everywhere he can reach. Your nose, your cheeks, your forehead, your chin, and finally your lips. “Te amo.” He chokes into your mouth, hating that he has to let you go. He’s terrified of you forgetting all about him. He loves you. He loves you more than he ever thought possible and he’s going to leave you.
“I love you too, Javi.” You can’t help but start to cry. They are silent tears, ones that just express how badly you want to stay with him. A far cry from the woman screaming to go home not so long ago. “I don’t want to eat. I just want to go to bed, baby.” You beg. “Take me to bed.”
He doesn’t pull out of you. Instead, he carries you into the bedroom and lays you down on the bed. He’s gentle, caressing your body and he pulls out of you as he shifts to lay between your thighs. He stares at the mess he made looking at your entrance, cum threatening to drip out, and he can’t help it. He surges forward to slide his tongue between your folds.
Shuddering, you moan his name while your fingers run through his hair. You’ve learned that Javi has no problem with doing what he wants and he obviously wants to touch you like this, unconcerned with his cum between your thighs. “Fuck. I love you. I don’t want to go.”
He pulls back for a moment to say “I don’t want you to go but you have to.” He dives back in a few moments later, his tongue ravenous and carving indistinct paths while he tries to memorize every tiny detail about you.
Your moans fill the room, soft and sweet. He’s taking his time, not rushed a bit as if you have all the time in the world rather than just tonight. He reaches up and twines his fingers with yours, holding your hand as he continues to take you apart with his tongue.
He wants to burn your moans into his memory, carve your taste into his tongue, he needs to remember every single detail about you before he lets you go to return to safety. He’s slow and methodical as he pulls you apart stroke by stroke, uncaring of the salty taste of his cum combined with your tangy juices that make him go crazy.
You’re there forever, legs spread while he feasts. Time seems to suspend into nothing and your breath catches and never recovers. Making every moment drag out as your body burns and twists on itself until your orgasm snaps through you, sharp and bright, cunt gushing all over his face when he presses his thick fingers deep into your walls.
Javier groans into your clit, loving how you are clamping down on his digits. "Fuck baby. That's it." He murmurs into your flesh as you shake above him. He works you through, his fingers squelching with your combined cum.
Panting, you try to close your legs, overstimulated and nearly sobbing from the pleasure. He kisses your thigh and grins up at you. “Want another?” He asks and you shake your head. “I just want you.”
He snakes up your body, kissing every inch of skin he passes, until he is pressing his lips to yours. "I love you, hermosa." He murmurs, nudging his nose against yours as he settles beside you and pulls you into his side.
“I love you too.” You sigh softly, your hand splayed over his heart and you kiss his chest. “I know you won’t be able to call me, but I’ll be thinking about you. Hoping you’re safe. Praying you are.” You know he can’t promise you anything, this is just a flash in the pan for him, and he will go back to his normal life after he catches Escobar. “You’ve saved my life, Javier.”
He sighs, “I did what was right. I have fucked up a lot on my life but I couldn’t let you be abused or worse. You were something special from the moment I saw you. I’m just - all I ask is that when you get home, you’re happy. Be happy.” He pleads softly, wanting to know that this hasn’t all be in vain.
You want to tell him that you won’t be happy unless you are with him, but you can’t. Not when it’s not what he wants to hear. “I will, Javi.” Reaching up, you caress his cheek. “I can be happy because of you, amor.”
Javi’s dark eyes meet yours and he swallows harshly, “good.” He murmurs and brushes his lips against yours. All he wants is for you to be safe and happy…even if that isn’t with him.
****
Javier glances around the airport, worried that a sicario or two have followed him. Steve is in the terminal with another agent to make sure he has back up just in case. Your passport was accepted without question and won’t be flagged by one of the informants for Escobar who works at the airport. He bites his lip as he sets your suitcase down at the gate. Your eyes are already watery and he fights the instinct to just take you back home but he can’t. You have to go.
“This is it.” You bite your lip, aware that you shouldn’t cry but you can’t even help it. You’re doing good not bawling your eyes out. Glancing around the airport, no one seems to be watching you, but you look back at Javi. “Can I kiss you?” You plead softly. “One more time? Or is it not safe?” The last thing you want to do is to put him in danger, but you can’t imagine boarding this plane without kissing him goodbye.
Javier can’t deny you. Hell, he can’t deny himself. He reaches for you, grabbing your waist to drag you against him. His lips immediately find yours and he groans into your mouth as he pours every thing he’s felt for you into this last kiss. He doesn’t care if anyone is watching. He needs to do this, he needs you to know how he feels.
It’s a goodbye kiss. A kiss that is desperate and yearning and bittersweet. The saltiness of your tears mixes with the whiskey and nicotine from Javi’s tongue. You hold him close and kiss him back just as desperately until you are unable to think about anything but him.
He isn’t sure how long he kisses you, but soon the tannoy announces that your flight is about to board. He pulls back, pecking your lips, and he leans back to look at you, his hands caressing your waist. “It’s time to go, baby.” He says, letting go of you and your hands clench in the air as if to keep holding him. His heart is pounding in his chest but he has to let you go. “Be good. Be happy.” He demands softly, kissing your forehead as your row is called.
Walking away from Javier is the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. Looking back at him until you can’t see him anymore, you bite back a sob as you collapse into your seat. You’re free, but at what cost when you are separated from the man you love?
****
It’s been a year and Javier has no clue if you’ve moved on. Maybe you’ve found a new guy. You could be married. The thought makes his stomach twist but he’s here. He tracked you down using his contacts and he’s here to see if you still feel the same way. He does. The former Casanova of Bogotá has been celibate since you left, wanting to focus on taking down Escobar. He fucked up. Got involved with Los Pepes and got sent home before he could take down Escobar but he’s here and he doesn’t want to focus on his failure. He swallows harshly and takes a deep breath before he rings your doorbell.
You sigh as you hear the doorbell, looking over at the door and contemplating not answering but you can’t do that. Wiping your hands on the kitchen towel, you walk over to the door and flip the lock to open the door. Since you’ve been back, you’ve settled back into life with only a few hiccups. Memories of your time in Colombia are now bittersweet, the good far overshadowing the bad.
Javier shifts from one foot to the other as you open the door and he offers you a half smile. “Hola hermosa.” He says, fingers flexing as he prepares for your reaction.
Eyes wide, your mouth drops open in shock. You never expected to see Javier again. Not really. You had convinced yourself it was that Stock-ham, whatever, you had read about. That it was just a fling for him and that you had imagined yourself in love with him. One sentence, two words from the man, a year later would prove that was a lie. “Javi!”
He stares at you, heart pounding as he prepares himself for your reaction until you fling yourself forward and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your lips to his. He groans into your mouth, loving how you feel in his arms, pulling you so close you can barely breathe.
You don’t care that it’s been a year. That you haven’t heard from him and that you’ve wondered if he’s been dead or alive this entire time. Scouring the news for any information about Escobar and the entire ordeal down in Colombia.
He kisses you over and over until finally he pulls back and looks at you with love in his eyes. “You been good?” He asks and you nod, still speechless that he’s found you. “I, uh, I got sent home. Fucked up and got involved with the wrong people but I’m here and I- I still love you.”
“I can’t believe you are here.” When you find your tongue, you’re reaching out. Touching him in disbelief and for one horrible moment, you are convinced it’s a dream. “I’ve missed you. So much. You really still love me? It wasn’t just….circumstance?”
Javier reaches for your wrist, kissing your pulse. "I still love you. I haven't - I haven't been with anyone since you left. I fought hard to get Escobar so I could come home and find you." He admits, "I love you. I still love you."
“Oh baby.” You whimper quietly, melting against him. “I love you too. I never stopped, I couldn’t stop. You- you are the love of my life and I’m grateful Escobar gave me to you.”
Javier cups your cheeks and nudges his nose against yours. “I’m here baby. I’m here and I ain’t leaving. I love you.” He murmurs, closing his eyes as he breathes you in.
****
“Fuck Jav.” You moan as your hips rock up to meet his mouth. It’s early, the sky just changing colors with the rising sun, and Javi woke up eager to have you. He’s been at your home ever since he got back from Colombia. He took you to Texas to go to Danny’s wedding and to meet his Pa. He even got his mom’s ring from his dad but you don’t know that yet. His fingers curl deep inside of you as he sucks on your clit and the phone starts to ring. “Shit.” You hiss, trying to push his head away but he pulls back to growl “leave it.”
You pant, “it might be - fuck - important. It’s early.” You tell him but he ignores you, focusing again on making you cum. The phone rings again, “Javi.” You whine, hand reaching for the receiver but he slaps it down with his free hand, silently telling you to leave it again. His fingers push deeper and he can tell you’re close. His digits curl just right and you clamp down, crying out his name just as the phone rings again. He works you through it as much as he can before he’s pulling his soaked fingers out of you and grabbing the phone from the cradle. “Why the fuck are you calling so early?” He growls down the phone without asking who it is.
“Agent Peña.” The official voice makes him sit up. “Yeah?” He asks, voice raspy.
“The Cali Cartel. It’s time. You’re reassigned back to Colombia. I’ll call later with your flight details.” The line goes dead and he stares at it, unable to respond or say anything at all.
“What-“ you sit up and frown as he stares at the phone. “Baby, who was that?” You ask, worried that something is wrong. You know they’ve captured Escobar, Javi had gotten the news from Steve, getting drunk that night and pulling you apart for hours as fucked through his emotions.
Javier swallows, setting the phone back down and he closes his eyes for a second, unable to look at you. “I’ve been reassigned. They want me back in Colombia to take down Cali.” He reveals, his heart aching.
You hear it in his tone, he wants to go. “Oh.” Pulling the sheet over your body, you sit up, watching him start to pull away from you. “Then you have to go.” You decide, pushing away your own heartache. “They are giving you a second chance, to do it right this time. You have to go.”
Javier is torn. He wants to do it right. Take down Cali the right way and redeem himself. Yet he also doesn’t want to lose you. “I- I don’t know.” He confesses, knowing you won’t wait for him again. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Javi.” You cup his cheeks and press your lips to his. “You go to Colombia and you do what you need to do.” You tell him softly. “You want to go….so go.”
“I don’t want - I can’t leave you. I don’t want to be gone and come back to find you’ve moved on. I know we love each other but I can’t ask for you to wait for me again. I want…I want you to come with me.” He says, even though he knows the risks. He can protect you.
“W-What? Come- come with you?” You hadn’t even considered it a possibility. “The DEA would let you bring me? How?” You can’t imagine they would want to have some random civilian in the country and possibly in danger.
He nods, "Steve brought Connie. She - she was a civilian." He explains, "I don't want to lose you." He confesses, "Do you want to come with me?"
“Connie’s Steve’s wife.” You remind Javi softly. “Of course I want to come with you, but I don’t think the DEA will let you bring your girlfriend.” You admit. “You aren’t going to lose me.”
He swallows harshly, knowing you’re not wrong. “They might not let me bring my girlfriend but they’d let me bring my fiancée.” He says and you frown, “fiancée?” He sighs, opening the bedside table to grab the velvet box he had hidden in there. “I was going to take you to dinner on Friday. Make it romantic but - but I don’t want to wait.” He confesses and your eyes widen. He shifts to kneel at the edge of the bed in front of you. “You came into my life so unexpectedly and I- I don’t regret saving you from Escobar. You were the missing piece of me that I didn’t know was gone. You make me so damn happy and I know I’m bad with words but I love you with every fiber of my being. I’d do anything to keep you safe, to make you happy. Will you marry me?” He asks, opening the box.
“Jav- I-“ your throat closes as your eyes fill with tears, looking down at your love on his knee as he asks you to marry him. “Yes! Yes! Yes! I will marry you.” Launching yourself forward, you crash into him, needing to kiss him once more to remind you that this isn’t a dream.
He kisses with a smile on his lips, pouring every ounce of love he feels for you into the kiss. He pulls back after a second to get the ring out of the box. He remembers proposing to Lori and he didn’t really feel much at the time, doing it out of obligation. Right now, he’s asking you to marry him because he loves you with all of him. He takes the ring out and takes your shaking hand, sliding the ring onto your left hand.
“It’s beautiful, amor.” You gasp, looking down at the ring in awe. It really is beautiful, but beyond that, it’s the realization that Javi wants to spend the rest of his life with you. “I love it and I love you.” You promise, leaning in to kiss him again. “My fiancé.”
****
Javier looks out across the ocean, the sun is about to set and he clears his throat as the breeze makes the linen shirt he’s wearing blow up slightly. “She’s here.” The officiant announces and Javier exhales shakily, turning away from the water to see an even more exquisite sight.
God, you take his breath away. Walking towards him wearing a white sundress, he swears his heart is about to pound out of his chest. When you stand before him, he reaches for your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. “You look gorgeous, baby.” He murmurs when he stands up straight but keeps your hand in his.
“I didn’t know you were such a romantic.” You admit, amazed by the beautiful, small wedding he had insisted on. It was gorgeously simple and yet the pinks and oranges streaking across the sky is something that could have never been replicated in a fancy church somewhere. “I love you so much.”
Javier smiles, “I love you too.” He takes your hands as you stand beside him and the officiant begins the ceremony. His stomach is twisting but not with nerves, it’s butterflies and excitement. Knowing that after this, you’ll be his wife. He never imagined he’d settle down but you changed that for him. He can’t imagine a day without you now. He squeezes your hands when you recite the vows and he proudly declares “I do” when asked if he wants to take you as his wife. The rest of the ceremony seems like a blur until the officiant says “you may now kiss the bride.” He surges forward to press his lips to yours, your rings shining on your finger as the sun disappears beyond the horizon. “I love you.” He murmurs into your mouth before he kisses you again.
Smiling against his lips, you sigh softly. “I love you too.” You never expected to find the love of your life when you had been kidnapped and given to one of the world’s most famous drug dealers in the world’s sicarios. It could have turned out to be your worst nightmare, but it ended up being your dream come true.
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Chapter 5
Summary: You’re unable to grasp the luck you have. You were raised to run from danger, to go the opposite direction of bad influences. So when you somehow find yourself right in the center of it, you discover that running wasn’t exactly what you were taught. It only took GhostFace and a pretty girl to remember that.
previous part <- -> next part
"Aww, man," you whine, crossing your arms over your chest childishly. "I missed a surveillance op?"
Danny pinches the bridge of his nose, annoyed, while Tara finds your words amusing.
You all gather in your sister's home, in the kitchen where there's less mess. You sat on the floor, entertaining Blackie while Remy betrays you, choosing Tara over you. You offered the idea to discuss a few things in the home, wanting to give the sisters some puppy time. They say dogs help relieve stress, and these two do a good job of it for you. You figure they could help relieve a little of the stress before you go kill some psychos.
"How did you guys know it was me they were after?" You pat the German Shepherd's head, snapping your fingers and pointing down. He sits and pants in front of you. "Dude, go entertain the tall one, you're drooling on me," you point at Sam.
Blackie whines, glancing at Sam. Sam stares back at him, eyebrow arching. He saunters over to Sam and lifts his paw onto her knee. She rolls her eyes, but you and Danny don't miss the smile on her face as she kneels down to pet him.
"We waited for him to call us," Tara explains, smiling down at the pitbull, rubbing his belly. "But he knew we were expecting his call."
"He said he was visiting the suburbs," Sam continues, both hands holding the dog's face. She shakes his head in her hands gently and the puppy pants happily. "Then he tried to confuse us, telling us there was an old friend he needed to see first."
You raise a brow, looking over at Danny for help. He shrugs, just confused as you are.
"When he hung up, Kirby tracked his phone to two different locations." Tara explains, brushing her fingers on the top of Remy's head. The dog lays on Tara's lap, trying his best to fight off the sleep she's lulling him into. "Here and Gale's apartment."
"There are two!" you exclaim, almost giddily, because you were right.
"No," Sam deadpans, your smile dropping. "Gale just got a call. She's okay. Mindy, Chad and Ethan are with her now."
"Ethan?" you ask incredulously.
"His alibi checked out," Tara informs you and you huff again. "Anyway, we drove here as fast as we could. We used the sirens," she grins, amused by your reaction.
You groan, throwing your head back. "Aww, man, you guys drove a police car?" Tara nods, laughing at your reaction.
"This doesn't make sense," Danny speaks up, ending the intense eye contact you and Tara were having. "Why did he go after you? No offense, but you don't really have that much of a role in the recreation of their supposed movie."
"Offense taken," you comment before Sam intervenes.
"It could be you have some sort of connection to the originals..." Sam offers an idea, standing up, leaving Blackie to lay down with a whine.
"Uhh, no," you draw out, shaking your head. "My family's boring. The only interesting we have ever gotten into was them losing me at DisneyWorld," you point at Danny to verify.
Danny chuckles at the memory. "Oh yeah," he shakes his head. "Their mom nearly got them to shut the entire park down. Turns out, they were at the teacup ride just riding it over and over."
You smile, proud. "I broke the record for the most rides in a single day," you frown suddenly. "I also got my ass whooped when we got home."
"Maybe it's not about your past all," Sam crosses her arms, pondering the reason. She arches a brow at you. "Maybe you pissed them off, you have done nothing but annoy them."
Danny laughs. "It's second nature," he sends you a pointed glare.
"I make jokes when I'm uncomfortable!" You defend, lifting your hands up in mock surrender. Suddenly, you gasp, earning confused glares. "That's who Gale looks like of. Monica!"
Danny pinches the bridge of his nose again.
Sam ignores your words. "Or maybe it could be your friendship with Tara," she glances at her sister, who sends her a warning glare. "We don't know how long he's been watching us, Tara." She explains.
You furrow your brows. "I got here during summer semester," you say, confused by Sam's words. "I got stuck with Anika as a roommate because I didn't want to stay with my sister and Danny doesn't have a spare room."
"I offered you my spare room," Danny retorts. "But you didn't want to pay rent."
You wave him off. "I didn't really meet Tara until..." you tilt your head, unsure. You look over at the girl, sending her apologetic look. "We didn't meet until the party, so I don't think friendship is the right word."
Sam notices the way her sister's entire demeanor changes. Her sister avoids eye contact, clearly affected by your words.
Remy lifts his head up, snarling at you. You lift your hands up, glaring back at the dog. "What did I do?" You narrow your eyes at him.
Tara smiles again, petting the dog gently from head to tail. He wags his tail and nuzzles his face back down into her lap.
"We met at the bookstore," Tara finally speaks, drawing your attention away from the dog. "I overheard you talking to yourself about the prices of pencils being high."
You don't recall. Summer was...it was a blur. It was a summer full of airplane rides to Atlanta and back. Your dad's health was deteriorating and you actively searched for reasons to not be there to see it.
There's a sudden shift in the room, a tension that becomes noticeable only to Danny. He can see your expression change from confusion to sadness in seconds. It's then Remy stands to push his nose against your lap, pleading for you to give him space to let him be with you.
"Um," you clear your throat, unsure of where the knot came from. "GhostFace brought up my...habit of running. It's what I did this summer."
"He usually attacks emotionally first," Sam says, understanding.
"The thing is, no one knows but my family," you look at her, trying to piece together this whole thing. "My dad died last month," you finally say it out loud, but tears don't form in your eyes.
Danny feels Sam's eyes on him, but he keeps his eyes trained on you, ready to console you if you need it.
The day you got the call from your mom, you recall having plans with Anika to meet her friends. She wanted you to meet her girlfriend only, it was to show her girlfriend she didn't have to worry about you. But Mindy came with a package, her twin and Tara. And with her twin, Ethan.
You faintly remember being annoyed by their laughter. The group's loud way of communicating. The stare Ethan had on you when he thought you weren't looking.
"So, Y/N–" Tara tried to get you to join the conversation. But you're too out of it to notice.
You stood up. "I gotta go," you ran then too. You went MIA for a week before the funeral, and you only showed up to give your mom the cash you got when you sold your car.
Tara's expression softens as she listens, her fingers continuing to stroke Remy's fur, the dog returning to nestle in her lap. There's a heavy silence, one that feels loaded with the weight of what you've just revealed. Even though you've held the tears at bay, the grief is there—raw, and unspoken. You've tried running from these feelings and clearly its caught up to you.
"I'm sorry," Tara says quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
You give a small shrug, your eyes fixed on the floor. "It's... whatever," you mutter, but the strain in your voice betrays your attempt at indifference. "I wasn't even there when it happened," you add, and that's when the guilt hits, almost visible in the way you hunch your shoulders slightly.
Sam steps forward, her arms uncrossing. "GhostFace knows things," she says, her tone serious. "Things he shouldn't."
Blackie pushes your arms and plops down on your lap, the strongest one between the two puppies. You got this guy when he was just six weeks old; his previous owners pieces of shits so you rescued him from them. You gifted him to your sister and her husband when you moved in with them; and that was only so they could allow him to move in with you.
He favored you more than Remy did. He knew you inside out, probably better than you knew yourself. But never more than your dad.
Your dad did train him for the first six months of his life though. Maybe he picked up on a few things.
You stare at the German Shepherd, and he feels you staring so his eyes glance up at you. A soft smile crosses your lips, patting his head gently.
Your brows furrow then, and you finally meet her eyes. "But how? No one but family knew. And it's not like I broadcasted my family stuff."
"That's what's bothering me," Sam says, her gaze narrowing in thought. "It's almost like someone close to you told him."
"Impossible, I don't have friends," you comment, half-joking, but the weight of it lingers.
"Or they've been watching for a lot longer than we thought," Sam offers another idea.
"Nope," you dismiss that idea as well. "I'm paranoid. I am always on guard and question everyone's intentions."
Danny's voice breaks the tension. "You had a full conversation with a homeless man last week," he deadpans.
You chuckle at the memory. "Yeah. He was nice." You defend Lionel, the homeless man. He was nice.
But Tara isn't laughing. She sits up a little straighter, her eyes flicking between you and Sam as she pieces something together. "What if they weren't just after you because of me or the others? What if it's because they want to break you down—push you to run again?"
A knot twists in your stomach, and you feel the gravity of Tara's words sink in. "Why would they care about me running?"
"Because it's what you do, right?" Danny interjects, his voice steady but sympathetic. "You run when things get tough, but maybe this time, they want to control when and where you go. They're using your fear against you."
It hits you like a punch in the gut. "I'm ruining his plan," you finally realize, your voice quiet but firm. Danny's eyes lock with yours, and you can see the recognition in his expression. "He wants me to run because I'm ruining his plan. The plot. The whole thesis or whatever film jargon Mindy would use. I'm not the hero—I'm the fucking cock block... in theory." You finish, unsure of the term but knowing you're onto something.
The room falls silent, your revelation weighing heavily in the air. Sam's eyes flick between you and Tara, while Danny's gaze remains fixed on you, understanding dawning in his expression. It's as if the pieces are finally starting to fall into place.
"You...may be right," Danny says slowly, his voice measured. "You're not following their script, the role you took on by happening upon it. They want you to run, because you happened on this whole ordeal. You weren't suppose to go to the party, you weren't suppose to be at Sam's place when he went to attack."
"Nope. I was forced to go both times," you explain, laughing gently. "Dumbass. Everyone knows you need a backup plan."
Sam's brow furrows, arms crossed as she paces a bit. "So, he doesn't want you to be the hero... and he wants to get rid of you." She stops in her tracks, thinking aloud. "And if they couldn't get you to leave, he was going to rid of you his own way."
Tara shifts uncomfortably, her eyes darting between you and her sister.
"And they failed." You say triumphantly.
"Who knows what else you ruined in their plan?" Tara shrugs.
Sam narrows her eyes, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Maybe Quinn wasn't the only planned killing for that night."
You shift uneasily, the gravity of the situation settling in. "So, what? I just stick around and hope I don't mess things up even more? Hoping it doesn't get me killed in the process."
Danny lets out a humorless chuckle. "Or you stay and mess things up in his plan instead."
You look at him, confused, and a little insulted.
"You told me what Mindy said," Danny continues. "You're the wild card. You're not playing by the rules, and that's exactly why he's targeting you. If you run, you make it easier for him. But if you stay—"
"I ruin his movie," you finish for him, your voice more confident now.
Sam gives a small nod, her expression hardening. "And if we know anything about GhostFace, it's that he hates when things don't go his way."
Tara smiles faintly, a glimmer of hope returning to her eyes. "We've got an advantage now. We know what he wants you to do—and we're going to make sure you don't do it.
With a head shake and smile, you say instead, "Or maybe I do..do it," you couldn't help but giggle at your words. Danny shakes his head in disbelief, but chuckles as well. When you see Tara frown, you shake your head and stand carefully, making sure not to bother any of the sleeping dogs. "We make the idiot think I did run..." you look at Sam, hoping she gets where you're going.
Sam's eyes narrow, her arms still crossed as she processes your words. Slowly, a grin tugs at the corner of her lips. "You want to bait him," she says, her voice low with understanding. "Make GhostFace think you're running—play into his narrative."
"Exactly," you say, pointing at her, feeling the adrenaline start to course through your veins. "We make him think I'm doing what he expects, what he wants."
Danny raises an eyebrow, catching on. "We make him think you run, but really, you're leading him right into a trap."
Tara's frown fades, replaced with curiosity. "That could work," she murmurs, glancing at Sam. "If he thinks he's controlling the situation, he'll get overconfident, make mistakes."
Sam nods, her mind already racing through the logistics. "We'll need to set it up carefully. Make it believable."
"But tell no one," you say, looking between them all. "We can't risk anyone listening and it getting back to him somehow. Mindy, Chad, Kirby, Quinn's dad and definitely not Ethan." You emphasize.
Tara laughs quietly, shaking her head.
"Fine," Sam steps forward, and everyone follows. "We know the plan..."
"Oh, Captain America speech," you bounce on your feet excitedly. You purse your lips when you receive deadpan glares.
"We know our roles," Sam continues, glancing at each of you. "We make him regret ever trying to write any of us into his twisted movie."
You rest your hands on your hips, a proud smile forming on your lips. It radiates, drawing their attention to you. You shrug. "I just..." you smile, feeling more determined than ever. "I've spent my whole life running away from things. I think it's about time I run toward something—toward ending this for you guys."
Danny pats your shoulder gently, his grip reassuring. He's proud of you and your smile only widens at that.
Tara steps closer, her gaze soft but resolute. "Thanks for doing this," she looks over at her sister, her eyes full of gratitude before locking back on you. "For staying."
Danny and Sam share a look, feeling the clear attraction between you and Tara.
"So," Danny clears his throat, breaking the moment with a knowing smile. "The plan?"
You blink a few times, getting out of stupor. "Right..." you glance at your cousin, Sam then Tara. You feel caught so you hurry to move on. "We trap him, but we're gonna need all the help we can get.."
\\\\\
You know a plan is good when you start to believe it's bad.
"You know, the more we talk about it," you begin, pacing back and forth in front of them. "The more appealing it sounds." You chew your nail, a nervous habit you know you'd get reprimanded for if your siblings or parents were around.
The group sits in Gale's apartment building's lobby, being called over by the twins. They explained the need of wanting to end this. Chad told Sam of Mindy's worries of this ending worse than before. So Sam suggested they join them, hoping to console Mindy with their presence. She knows the twin worries when they are too far apart during situations like this.
Danny arches a brow. "What does?"
You clear your throat, coming to a stop by the door. "My mom called me," you say, avoiding their stares and keeping your eyes on Danny. "She wants me to come home. Even my brother said I should leave, and he's the one who convinced me and my sister to go to New York in the first place. So maybe I should...go back home." Your words come out reluctantly, because you're starting to mean them.
Danny glances at the others, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. "Wait... you're serious."
You nod, playing into the part. "Yeah. Maybe it's time I listen to them." You shift your weight, making your hesitation believable.
Mindy stands abruptly, her voice rising. "Woah, hold up," she steps closer, shaking her head. "You can't just leave. You're part of this now—our hero!" Her tone is pleading, eyes wide with disbelief.
You shrug off her words, refusing to meet her gaze. "I'm no hero, Mindy. I'm just some idiot who stuck around too long. Like a bug stuck to a car's grill." You glare, directing the frustration outward, glancing at Chad and Ethan sitting nearby. Ethan looks back at you with that same innocent expression that's always unsettling.
With a huff, you shake your head and turn toward the door.
"GhostFace or not," you say sharply, turning back to face the room. "Maybe staying in New York was the wrong choice from the start. There isn't anything for me here, anyway."
The room falls silent for a moment, your words hanging in the air like a weight. Tara shifts uncomfortably, glancing between you and Sam. Danny looks torn, as if he wants to say something but is holding back.
"You can't just leave," Chad finally speaks up, breaking the silence. His voice is quiet, uncertain. "I mean, come on, you're part of this now. We need you."
"Need me?" you scoff, incredulous and bewildered at his words. "So he can kill me while you all survive again? No thanks."
Danny clenches his jaw, your words surprising him. "Y/N, relax. No one is dying-"
"He's tried to kill me twice," your voice raises, frustrated and exhausted. You feel Tara's sad eyes on you and it takes every ounce of will power you have not to look at her. "That's twice too many. And they say third's time the charm? Yeah, no, I'm not giving him the chance."
Ethan watches you, his gaze intense, but he says nothing. His expression is hard to read, but you don't let it throw you off. Not now.
"My family's suffered one loss already," you say, stunning Danny into silence. "I'm not going to put through another." Your words hit hard, firm and serious.
You mean it, Danny can tell. You're not acting on the role you told them you'd take on.
Mindy steps forward, her hands gesturing wildly as she speaks. "This isn't just about you! If you run, you give GhostFace exactly what he wants. He'll pick us off one by one if you're not here."
You look at her, then your gaze travels to your roommate sitting right behind her. You managed to grow a friendship with Anika, she has been nothing but nice to you. But this isn't about you, it was never suppose to be about you. This is their story, with an ending they can deal with.
"It was nice meeting you all," you say as you take tentative steps back towards the door. You don't miss the disappointed looks on their faces. "Really. I'm sure if the circumstances were different, we would be great friends. But, god, I hope I never see you guys again."
You say, final, turning on your heels, making your exit.
Danny looks down, ashamed.
Chad looks at the door, hoping you changed your mind. Minutes tick by, nothing but silence surrounds them. That and a few lingering policemen, making sure GhostFace didn't linger behind, hiding somewhere.
With no sight of you returning, Chad turns to the group. "What do we do?"
Sam looks at her friends, their fright obvious and palpable.
"Maybe he wins this time," she says softly.
Ethan leans forward where he's sat, an exasperated look on his face. "I'm sorry, what?"
Sam stands, looking at them all. "This was never suppose to involve any of you," she sighs, the sad look on her sister's face hurting her the most. "I roped you guys into this. He wants to punish me... Me. Maybe I let him."
"You want to give up?" Mindy asks, some disgust lingers in her tone.
"Everyone thinks I'm this terrible person. Maybe they're right." Sam says, then looks at Tara again. "You said it. It's not like I have a plan for my life anyway. If this is what I need to do to keep you all safe... then it's worth it."
Tara's expressions changes at her sister's words. "No." She snarls, getting on her feet. "Fuck that. You came back to Woodsboro to protect me. And you've been protecting me ever since. We're all still alive because of you."
"And Y/N," Ethan adds, earning glares from everyone.
"They aren't here anymore, you don't have to kiss their ass," Anika glares at him. He cowers down where he's sat.
With a deep breath, Tara takes her sister's hands. "Maybe it's time you let us protect you. We're a team, remember?"
Sam's eyes soften as she looks at her sister, Tara's words slowly cutting through the guilt and exhaustion she's been carrying. For a moment, the tension between them breaks, and the weight on Sam's shoulders seems to lighten, just a little.
Tara tightens her grip on Sam's hands, her voice stronger now. "You're not in this alone anymore, Sam. None of us are. We can't just give up and let him win."
Mindy steps up. "We're a family."
Chad brightens. "Hell yeah! Core four!"
Danny tilts his head in confusion, but doesn't comment on it.
Sam crosses her arms. "He's going to keep coming for us."
Ethan shakes his head. "I think Y/N had the right idea," he speaks up, capturing their attention. "Can't we just hole up somewhere safe?"
Anika looks at him in disgust. "Ugh, god, I hope you are GhostFace so you die at the end," she grumbles under her breath. Ethan stares back at her with wide eyes.
Mindy laughs but gets a shove from Chad. "Oh," she mumbles, clearing her throat. "Anika." she tries her best to sound authoritative.
Tara gives Ethan a pointed look. "And hiding won't solve anything. He'll just find us, like he always does..." she trails off, coming to a realization as soon as the words come out of her mouth. "I have an idea. Chad, give me your phone," she orders without an explanation.
Chad does as he's told, handing his phone over to the short girl. She does a quick dial of the number and soon, the man picks up. Tara explains the plan to the detective, who doesn't seem at all convinced or sure of it. She doesn't bother on insisting him to liking the plan, just wants to know if he wants to be apart of it.
"Are you gonna help us?" Tara asks once she's done with her explanation.
"Yes," Bailey relents with a sigh, glancing around his surroundings. "I'm stuck here, but Gale gave us the keycards to the theater; it has heavy security and surveillance cameras, we can use that against him. I'll get Kirby to meet you there and join you as soon as I can."
Tara glances at Danny, who wandered off to make a phone call. She can see him actually frustrated, and she can't even guess what about.
"Travel in public," Bailey pulls her out of stupor. "Remember, the more people around you, the less of a chance he can take a shot at you before you get here."
The walk to the subway is unnervingly quiet, tension settling like a fog over the group. Sam walks beside her sister, hyper-aware of their surroundings. She's ready for anything, but the weight of the plan lingers heavily on her mind. Trusting Bailey and Kirby felt like a gamble, but it was the only option they had. She steals glances at the others as they walk in an uneasy silence—each of them lost in their own thoughts, wary of every shadow, every passerby.
Danny lingers behind, phone pressed to his ear again. Faintly, Tara hears, "Yo, this is Y/N, I don't check voicemails so send me a message..." then a beep.
Danny grits his teeth and slips his phone into his pocket, catching up to the group quietly.
Tara turns to the others, her voice tight. "You guys don't have to come with us," she tells Ethan, Anika, and Danny. Sam nods beside her, silently agreeing.
"Right," Ethan scoffs. "We peel off and the killer takes us out one-by-one? No thank you."
Anika squints her eyes at him, mimicking her girlfriend's glare. "I'm going to keep an eye on him," she says, pointing at Ethan, who lifts his hands in mock surrender, incredulous.
"Safety in numbers, right?" Danny speaks up. "I'm not my cousin. I don't run," he looks at Sam, trying to offer a reassuring smile.
"Let's get to the theater," Sam nods just as the train arrives.
They all stand together, but the flow of passengers getting off the train separates them. Ethan, Anika and Mindy are pushed back by people. Mindy grabs Anika's hand, steadying herself.
"Hey!" Mindy shouts after them, standing on her toes to get a glimpse of them. She spots her brother on the train. "Chad!"
Chad waits by the doors, hoping his strength is enough to keep them open. He watches his sister and her girlfriend struggle through the crowd, pushing their way forward. The thought to get off and help them crosses his mind, but then he feels someone yank him back. The doors snap shut, his eyes widening as he hears his sister call out his name again.
Mindy and Anika run, but can't make it onto the train in time. A hand grabs Mindy's shoulder, and she jumps back, pulling Anika with her. Ethan stands there, eyes wide with innocence.
"Get your Ghostface ass away from me, Ghostface." Mindy distances her and Anika away from him, ignoring the hurt expression on his face.
"Where's Mindy and Anika?" Sam asks when Chad and Danny finally join her and Tara.
"They missed the train," Chad admits, his voice tight. "I would've waited with them, but Cute Boy pulled me inside," he adds, glaring at Danny.
Tara's suspicion flares. She trusted Danny because of you, but now—with you gone, really gone—she isn't sure who to trust anymore. The plan was for you to text Danny once you had finished your part, but Danny hasn't mentioned anything to the group.
"I was trying to keep us all together," Danny defends.
"By splitting us up?" Tara asks, her voice sharp as her glare.
Chad pulls out his phone, revealing a text from Mindy: We'll get the next one. Don't wait for us. We'll meet you at the theater.
Chad locks his phone after the sisters read the message, then looks up. His eyes widen, his stomach twisting into a knot. "Shit," he mutters.
The others follow his gaze, their nerves skyrocketing. The subway car is packed to the max with Halloween revelers dressed as every horror movie character to ever exist—Freddy, Jason, Pinhead, Michael Myers, Leatherface.
But it isn't those characters that send a chill down their spines. It's the dozens of people dressed as Ghostface, their masks seemingly trained on the group, unmoving.
Tara swallows thickly. "How many stops?"
"Ten," Sam answers, her voice barely a whisper as she checks the map.
Danny grips the pole, his knuckles white from tension. "Great."
#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x reader#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter#sam carpenter#scream 6#scream vi#the unwitting hero
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