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theresattrpgforthat · 11 months ago

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It would be awesome if you could recommend some solo ttrpgs! I've been getting into them a lot lately and want to know more of what's out there. Especially journalling ones, as I enjoy creative writing. So far I've looked into (and will probably buy soon) Firelights, Apawthecaria, and Fox Curio's Floating Bookshop.

Also, I love this blog a ton. Already there have been some awesome games I've learned about from you, including the one you're currently working on. Excited to give it a try sometime! Keep being amazing 💜.

Theme: Solo Journalling Games

Thank you so much for your kind words! I'm certainly excited to run Protect the Child for folks, play-testing it so far has been really fun!

As for your ask, solo games and journalling go hand in hand. These next few games are just a sampling of what I've added recently to my Solo Games folder on Itch.

Cats Know Things, by Mushroom Witch Games.

CATS KNOW THINGS is a light-hearted game meant to tell a humorous story of intrigue, all while pretending to be a very nosy cat.

But you are no ordinary cat.

You are a very special feline who, through some magic you cannot explain, can communicate with your human, an individual who wishes to make their mark in society by any means necessary. The two of you decide to start a society page, (a very fancy type of tabloid newspaper dedicated to a particular location) revealing the glitz, glamour, and inner turmoil of the town’s most notable individuals.

Use a d6 and a d10 to generate numbers, and sneak into places to listen into secret or private conversations. Then bring this news to your human companion, so that they may relay this gossip in the local society page. You need to find 6-8 scintillating stories before the week is up, so that your human has enough to print.

If you want a game full of scandal and cute furry little rumour-mongers, this might be the game for you!

Lingering, by Meghan Cross.

The last thing you remember, you were dying.

Now, breath fills your lungs once more and your eyes open, slowly shifting side to side as you attempt to regain your bearings. You are alive. But you are…changed. Your human form is gone, and in its place is one that is different, foreign, animal…

In Lingering, you play as a person who has died, only to find yourself alive again in an animal form, unable to move on to your eternal rest until you settle business left unsettled from your life.

Throughout the course of a game, you will make several attempts to communicate with a chosen human, hoping to convey a message to them so they can assist you and help you move on once and for all.

This game uses a deck of cards and some guiding adjectives to determine how your attempts at communication will go. Over eight rounds, you’ll flip cards while guessing as to whether each card will be higher or lower than the previous one, and a successful guess means a successful interaction. The details of those attempts are what you’ll be journalling, and Lingering provides a number of questions that you might try to answer with each attempt.

This game takes place over eight rounds, so it’s excellent if you want a short, contained game. It also has a two-player option if you want to try this game out with a loved one.

Dragon Dowser, by HatchlingDM.

Dragon Dowser is a solo journaling RPG using the Carta SRD by Peach Garden Games. You play a mysterious character known as a 'Dowser'. Your aim is to locate abandoned dragon eggs and return them to your Sanctuary. If you succeed before expending your resources, the hatchling you rescue will be reared to change the kingdom forever!

This is a lovingly crafted game that uses card suits to represent four different kinds of ways your character will be tested, as they interact with different cultures, explore new landscapes, and dea with various conflicts, both human and nature-made.

You’ll travel across a grid of cards that provide you with journaling prompts as you travel. You’ll expend resources to overcome obstacles, looking for a dragon egg, represented by an Ace! Once you return this egg to a sanctuary, you’ll journal about your experience of raising the hatchling. Based on the games you’ve mentioned so far, I think Dragon Dowser is right up your alley.

EDEN, by blasez-faire.

You are Judaiah Clark, the Head Botanical Researcher at the Southern Sector of Eden. You are here for exactly 10 days, and were a last minute choice after the sudden disappearance of ■■■■■■ ■■■■■, the last person to hold this position. You are not here for work. Investigate.

EDEN is a single-page game that takes place over the course of 10 in-game days, with two questions that you will have to answer in your journal for every day. You are expected to write up a report with detailed notes, so much of the extrapolation taken from each pair of questions is going to come from your own imagination. To help with this you might want to come up with names for other characters, draw a map of the Southern Sector, or go into detail about the plants that this research station grows.

One thing is for sure - this is going to be a horror story. If you like games that give you a lot of room to stretch your creative wings, and you also like writing terrible endings for your characters, you might like this game.

Black Mountain Numbers Station, by Simon de Vet.

You wake one morning to the sound of a voice on the radio reading a series of numbers. On impulse, you jot them down. These numbers will become your life.

Black Mountain Numbers Station is a one-page, solo-journaling game about a mysterious broadcast, and about finding patterns in randomness. Using a unique dice mechanic to prompt you to describe your journey, you will tell a short story of obsession, frustration, and discovery.

This game is uses a 6x6 grid with boxes that you’ll need to fill when you roll a pair of dice. You’ll trigger evens when you roll doubles or find a certain pattern on the grid as you fill it, and in both of these cases, you’ll write special journal entries. The game ends when you fill your Frustration track, which symbolizes listening for too long without learning anything new. What exactly you learn, however, is up to you.

Bound, by K Ramstack.

Bound is a single player setting agnostic game about the connection between two people as they travel to a destination through the destruction of the world on a journey they will most likely not complete.

You will create two characters, their relationship to one another, the destruction that haunts them, and the motive for them to move forward.

During the game, you will be asked to write scenes in first person, switching perspectives between characters, and using their personality traits and subjective conceptualizations of each other to answer prompts.

Bound has a single and two-player version, and uses two decks of playing cards, one for each character. Each card will relate to a prompt on the prompt table, but only the highest ranked prompt will be answered. Each prompt will ask a question about the relationship, and how it changes.

If you want a deeply emotional game with a beautiful layout and lovely art, this is the game for you.

The Narrator Paradox, by psychound.

The Narrator Paradox is a one page solo-narrating game where you try to tell a story … if your protagonist will let you. In it, you determine the five acts of your story based on an oracle, then make rolls for your plot beats to see if you can wrangle your protagonist into the prescribed narrative. If you can't, they defy you and take the story into their own hands. Wrestle the story into shape against a rebellious hero, or lose them forever and have to finish the story without them in it.

Using the Major Arcana of a tarot deck, two six-sided dice and a coin, The Narrator Paradox has a number of different ways that you’ll try to keep your story on track. However, with so much randomness, your protagonist is sure to have a mind of their own. This feels very much in tune with how many writers talk about their characters as if those characters have their own desires, so if you’ve ever related to that you might enjoy this game.

Also Check Out...

My Solo Games tag! I use this tag for every recommendation post specifically for solo games.

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #game recommendations #dnd #asks #indie ttrpg #solo games

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foone · 5 months ago

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One of my biggest pet peeves is when I have to get up and then drive for like an hour.

Because I take my ADHD pills in the morning! And since I can't get on the extended release formula anymore (THANKS DEA), I end up getting a burst of energy and creativity in the morning.

And if I'm stuck driving a car, I can't write any of that shit down!

So many Tumblr shitposts and minifics, lost to the horrible tedium of driving.

#ADHD shitposting

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iz1331 · 3 months ago

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Gonna have to rewatch Beetlejuice and Beetlejuice Beetlejuice back to back to compose a list of "movie canon" that were deemed not brought back/continued in the sequel.

For example: Like how the sequel "disregarded" the fact that only those who "died of suicide can become civil servants in the afterlife".

NO ONE CONFIRMED THAT! It was just a throw away line by Otho, WHO WAS A FRAUD AND KNEW LITTLE TO NONE OF THE SUPERNATURAL!

The sequel even subtly corrected that misconception. Not everyone in the Civil Service in the Afterlife died of suicide, several were wrongly assigned that cause of death.

Miss Argentina was the only significant character that had an accident in Beetlejuice that we've seen who works as a civil servant. And maybe the flattened guy, but not sure if that was an accident or not. He looked quite jovial for a flattened guy.

Case in point: we have Wolf Jackson, and he certainly didn't die of suicide, yet he works as a self-proclaimed cop and runs the whole police joint there.

The earlier scrapped concept of Betelgeuse hanging himself was just that. An idea/concept of how he died. They never used that in the film, thus it's not canon. It's considered fanon in the fandom cause it's been more than 30 years of no solid confirmation of a sequel and we were hungry for any scrap of Beetlejuice material that we can consume and use as inspiration for art and stories to feed ourselves over the years until news of Beetlejuice Beetlejuice was announced and got released.

The sequel answered some questions and gave us new content to work with. For both the characters and about the Netherworld/Afterlife in the Beetlejuice universe.

I'm all for creative liberty and freedom, make a canon divergent or write an Alternative Universe of it all, but don't just shit on the sequel and say that it's an "elaborate fanfiction" like the screenplay writers didn't put a lot of thought in it that even Tim Burton, Michael Keaton, Winona Ryder, and Catherine O'Hara finally, after DECADES of turning down script after script, found THIS story for the sequel to have the most potential and having the right tone as a follow up for the movie that meant so much to all of them.

Everyone who worked behind the scenes in creating the film from props, set location and design, puppetry, stop-motion, costume, stunt people, make-up, lights, sound, extras, production, marketing, EVERYONE put a lot of effort and passion and did AMAZING work on this project. I'm still amazed by every large and miniscule details I discover every time I rewatch it.

Was the story of the legacy sequel perfect?

Of course not.

No sequel ever is. Someone will always find something to complain about and that's just how things work in this industry, in this world.

But, was it fun? Was it both new, and brought the same feel from the original? Did the actors brought to life the characters we've loved for more than three decades and counting? Did it introduce new characters that fit the ensemble and had the same eccentric aura of the Beetlejuice world? Was it a relief that the story didn't just end 30 years ago?

Yes, it did. For me. I loved it. It's not perfect, but for someone like me who's a bit of a perfectionist on my works, and then finding the imperfections actually making the finished product better than I expected, it means a lot.

And for what it's worth, at least the time and love and the littlest of delusion I invested for Beetlebabes actually had something to show for. A one-sided romance it may be, at least I now know that Betelgeuse isn't harboring any lasting ill will towards Lydia for all these years.

That Tim also saw it that way. That Michael and Winona were open to this dynamic and relationship between the two characters/roles that they love and cherished to play.

Also, people change. No one stays the same. Life throws curve balls at us, and yes, to FICTIONAL characters as well. People mellow with age. One person or experience can change someone, even when they've been dead for 600 years.

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice beetlejuice #otho fenlock #wolf jackson #miss argentina #betelgeuse #lydia deetz #michael keaton #michael douglas keaton #winona ryder #tim burton #beetlejuice & lydia #beetlebabes #legacy sequel #Beetlejuice rant #netherworld #afterlife

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jezebelblues · 4 months ago

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let it snow | h.s

summary: summer of 1979. where y/n just got a new position in the DEA with harry’s little crew in miami. but are there ulterior motives?

cw: 18+ drugs / drugs usage. unedited. fem!reader. maybe angst? idk, this is just a testing-the-waters type series.

word count: approx 4.2k

miami 1979 - a bright veneer. hazy pink skies, palm trees that swayed with you, and sandy beaches that stretched out like golden ribbons into the atlantic. the tropical sun held a golden gleam over the city, its absence allowing for crystalline stardust to waft through the breeze and send electric currents through the air, fueling a restless energy.

cocaine moved like a phantom through the streets, arriving in covert waves, slipping silently onto speedboats and creeping through clandestine airstrips hidden in the everglades. brick after brick, miami became a gateway for an avalanche of white powder that invaded the city, uprooting the once ordinary streets and turning nightclubs into sanctuaries of indulgence. a gorgeous juxtaposition of beauty and ruin.

sirens scream in the distance, cutting through the humid air like a warning. the city was electrified, humming with a violent undercurrent as families, law enforcement, and politicians tried to navigate a world suddenly awash in drug money. the city basked in its secrets however, becoming a neon dream seemingly overnight. corruption boomed underground, and the feds knew it.

agent harry styles was essentially head-honcho of his little team. the feds sent down their own group of people to each hotspot they could, miami, cuba, the texas border; in order to get the smuggling under control. harry was an exuberant man, vibrant and eccentric. he always had a toothpick balanced between his rosy lips, a gleam of sweat covering his sunkissed skin.

the sun beamed down directly above them, glistening in the blue waters of the shipment dock they stood upon. they were tipped off about in exchange in product, waiting patiently for the little fishing boat to glide into the shoreline. harry was in his usual bright attire, a hot pink button down tucked into his black slacks held up by his duty belt. a black cowboy hat casted a shadow over his face - the usual toothpick in between his lips, a punctuation to his smile. some of his curls fell beneath his hat, over his ears and flat against his damp forehead. his shirt was down a few buttons, revealing his pretty silver cross and the swallows inked onto him.

harry drew his shoulders back with a grin as his men detained two smugglers, the product dragged onto the pavement as they stood silently in handcuffs. “whoo-wee!” styles beamed, a familiar southern twang laced in his words. flamboyant. two gutted swordfish sat in front of him, stuffed with carefully wrapped bricks of cocaine that were poorly sutured into the carcasses - a rushed job done on the boat. “ain’t this ‘bout a bitch.” harry laughs to himself, kneeling onto the ground in front of the dead fish. the breeze whisked around the saltiness in the air, a nose-twitching sourness emitting from the fish.

he unholsters a pocket-knife from his duty belt, slinging the blade open and slicing across the botched sutures. every piece of the fish’s anatomy was gone, replaced by blocks of cocaine. he twists the toothpick between his teeth with his tongue, his fingertips spreading the belly open a bit to catch a better sight of the mountainous blocks inside this fish. his lips curl, a dimple greeting the men he shot a look toward. harry stands up in a swift movement, waltzing toward the two smugglers. “m’just tickled pink. could kiss you both right now.” he muses, placing his large hands on one of their shoulders. “y’all just get more creative by the day - i love it!”

y/n stands on the sidelines, a forced bystander. press analysts have to go to these operations, jotting down whatever happens on a quaint little notepad that sat in the back pocket of her jeans. only essential information was written down, basically the who, what, when, where and why’s of the situations they found themselves in. nothing more, nothing less. y/n’s first choice was surely not drug bust coverage, but she was new to the unit and couldn’t exactly protest direct orders.

she lucked out, in a way, to be apart of style’s team. he’s more of a lighthearted leader in comparison to his peers. he wasn’t his commander’s favorite, (due to his attitude) but he got the job done and always received immense respect from his subordinates. at first, y/n was taken aback from her boss’ electric personally, but quickly grew accustomed to it - a weight lifted off her shoulders.

the notepad that previously sat in her pocket now rested in her palm, a red pen twirling between her fingers. her eyes narrow as she watched the event before her unfold - internally cursing herself for not wearing sunglasses to avoid the blinding of the sun. her lips part, eyes flickering toward harry. “how many kilos?”

harry flicks his toothpick onto the pavement that glittered in the light, looking at y/n over his shoulder while words softly get exchanged between him and two other agents. strands of her hair danced with the breeze, and harry was convinced he could smell her shampoo from where he stood. he grins, his gaze barely noticeable from the tip of his hat. “n’moment, sugar.” he dismisses, averting his attention back to his peers.

y/n wasn’t super successful at reading harry very well since she started working with him. he’s extremely animated, always upbeat and enthusiastic despite the job they had to do. he dressed differently from his men, too. the other agents were always in some sort of black clothing, maybe throwing in a Hawaiian button up or denim jeans. harry, on the other hand, stuck out like a sore thumb. his fingers were always clad in rings, a cowboy hat his best friend had gotten him usually resting upon his curls (if the heat wasn’t too unforgiving). his nails were often covered in some sort of chipped nail polish, something he only did on away-operations because if the men at the home unit saw, they wouldn’t understand.

he ambles back over to the fish, bottom lip tucked between his teeth. y/n draws in a bit closer, watching the agent intently. his eyebrows are furrowed beneath the bill of his hat, going to an abrupt stop. the pavement creates an audible scratch against his feet as he toes the fish. the tip of his boot gently pushes it upward - seemingly trying to estimate how many kilos there could be stuffed in there. they don’t have a scale, but she would trust his judgment - he’s been doing this too long to be inaccurate. his head tilts to the side slightly, his hands finding themselves on his hips. “80..70?” he utters, dropping his hands and turning on his heel to face her.“ ‘bout 80 kilos for both.” he states with his lips curled, jutting his chin upwards a bit - expecting y/n to write it down.

she glances back toward her paper, red ink filling any blank spaces as she mumbles the information back to herself. harry twists his torso to look at niall, a close friend on his team. he mutters something incoherent to y/n, his fingers pointing in different directions as he speaks. he then lifts his hat off his head, running his digits through his curls. he lets the breeze sweep through the strands, chasing away the heat that sat idly between the hat and his head.

y/n glances up from her notes, immediately meeting harry’s gaze. his expression was stoic, unable to read. as he starts to adjust the hat back onto his head, she averts her gaze to niall, who removed two bricks from each fish and placed it into a black duffel bag. no one seemed care very much, or simply didn’t notice. but curiosity dances onto her features, her hands lowering to her waist.

harry doesn’t miss a beat, eyes flickering between the two nonchalantly. “s’got your face in a twist?” he teases, lips pursed into a smile. she doesn’t respond, sinking her teeth into the flesh of the inside of her cheek. with an exhale, she brings the pen and paper up toward her chest again, preparing to scribble anything extra down.

“ah-“ harry tuts, grasping her attention. he steps her direction, y/n’s expression blank as he stands mere inches before her. she can see his face clearly for the first time today, a slight stubble dusting his jaw and upper lip, his cheeks a tinge of red from the sun. the collar of his shirt flutters slightly with the wind, his scent dancing along with it - vanilla laced with tobacco. he gently takes the notepad from her fingertips, his larger hand seemingly swallowing it whole. his head tips down, his hat hiding his eyes as he flips through her papers. “s’no need to write that down.” he mumbles, reading over her cherry red words. “just protocol, darlin’.” he pauses, “takin’ it over to analysis, test if its laced.” he shrugs, handing the notes back over as he looks at her through his eyelashes.

“don’t i still need to mention that-“

“y’mention every time we read someone their miranda rights?” he quips, a familiar smile back on his lips. her silence responds for her, putting the notepad back into her pocket. he steps back, creating more space between them as she fidgets with her own fingers. she doubted harry’s response, not fully, but enough for her heart to sit a bit lower in her chest. when evidence is removed from a scene they go in it’s appropriate containers, not a beat up duffel from the trunk of a car. but harry was an odd leader, this might as well be something else he does differently.

satisfied, harry gives her a nod and saunters his way back over to niall, who had already threw the dark bag into the back seat of his car. the badge clipped to his belt shimmers in the light, the sun starting to dip into the horizon with a creamsicle orange haze. his hand delves into his pockets, pulling out a red and white cigarette box with beat-up corners. used. he flips the top open, revealing a huddle of fresh toothpicks and about three cigarettes smushed to the left side. he bites onto one of the picks, rolling it over to the corner of his lips with his tongue. it hangs lazily as he shoves the box back into his pocket. he’s been doing this for over a year now, wanting to quit his smoking habit. the toothpicks would hold the scent of the tobacco, harry almost tasting it if he focused hard enough. “you look like if mick jagger was in a western film.” niall laughs, adjusting his belt to sit a bit higher.

harry grins, his tongue fidgeting around with the toothpick. “s’what i go for.” he mumbles sarcastically, his eyes meeting the blue ones across from him. his brows knit together, his face hardening barely. “how many did y’grab?”

“four.” he pauses, “told her 80 kilos when it’s clearly a bit less than that, four will go unnoticed.”

he booms out a laugh, catching the attention of the rest of his team. he turns to take a step beside niall, shoulders almost touching as he takes the hat off his head, bringing the rim to his lips as he mimics blowing a kiss toward the people in front of him. “‘nother successful bust.” he beams, “i’ll handle the report tonight, i don’t wanna see any of you for the rest of the evening.”

the group smiles, a bit eager to enjoy the rest of their friday. nightlife made the city alive, it also helped that not one person that roamed the busy streets on a friday evening was sober. pupils were so big you could see your own reflection in their eyes, the alcohol off their breath alone enough to give you a buzz. y/n’s heart quickened at the thought of having some free time - she hasn’t been able to do anything in the city (that wasn’t work related) since she got here almost two weeks ago. not a drop of alcohol has touched her lips in a month, the three short dresses she owned collecting dust in the wardrobe of her hotel room. at this point she thinks that a pair of heels would be more comfortable than the converse that adorned her feet.

“-but not miss y/n.” he chuckles, pointing at the girl with his hat as he shamelessly rips her out of her own daydreaming. her shoulders falter, lips threatening a frown. “that file cabinet brain of yours will help me write the most earth shattering report the cap’n has ever seen!” he taunts with a smile, plopping the hat back onto his head with one hand. he didn’t need any of her help writing a report, he’s been doing it for nearly a decade. but, harry didn’t trust her well enough to believe she wouldn’t overthink the not-so-discreet taking of four bricks of cocaine. he also had a rapport with his team, y/n now apart of that - he wanted to at least try to get on her good side.

her lips press into a flat line, nodding absentmindedly to her boss’s words. harry peals over to niall, whispering into his ear, smiling softly at whatever he said. niall steps away, pulling car keys from his pocket and whistling toward two men to come along with him. everyone started to disperse in the few shared vehicles, niall going a different direction than the others who took off toward the hotel.

harry glances over his shoulder, watching as evidence is collected officially and placed into a van. he chews on the toothpick, striding toward y/n and throwing her keys that previously were hooked to his belt loop. her eyes widened as she caught it, almost slipping her grasp and clambering onto the pavement. “you’re drivin, honeybee.” he smiles, not breaking his stride as he rounds the car, waiting patiently at the passengers side door.

y/n stood frozen for a moment, lips parted in surprise, before spinning on her heel toward the sleek black trans am, unlocking the door and pulling it open without a word. she dips into the seat, pressing the unlock button so her boss could fall in beside her. he places his hat on the dashboard while y/n adjusts the seat, pulling it forward toward the pedals and up a bit higher to see the road - which earns a small laugh from harry. the engine roars to life, keychain dangling from the ignition. she one hands the thin, leather wheel as she turns to pull out the dock, their silence broken with a soft tsk from harry. “seatbelt.”

her eyes roll, not entertaining his reminder as she already pulled out onto the main road. the agent sighs, reaching past her and tugging the seatbelt down over her frame, and she froze momentarily. there was a comfortable distance, but his breath caressed her check coolly, peppermint. he handles the seatbelt carefully, clicking it in beside her hip. “i coulda gotten it.” she mumbles, shifting in her seat as harry adjusted back into his own. “do you really need my help?” she asks genuinely, but also wanting dispel the heat rising in her chest from how close he was.

he juts out his bottom lip, almost as if he was thinking about it. (he wasn’t). he slowly shakes his head into a nod, casting a sideways glance at her. “absolutely.”

the trans am glides along the coastal highway leading to their hotel, the rhythmic hum of the engine blending in with the distant crash of the waves. miami, in all of its chaotic beauty, stretched out before them - a city on fire, burning with neon lights and the darker flames of a burgeoning drug trade.

y/n keeps her eyes on the road, the wheel steady in her grip while her mind spins. harry is an easygoing man, sure, but his nonchalance over it all felt a bit unsettling. there’s a nagging feeling within her, a sense that there’s more to this than meets the eye. she didn’t consider herself to be type A, but protocols existed for a reason - especially for law enforcement. nevertheless, she was new to the team, and didn’t want to press into things she may not understand.

“y’did good today.” he admits, lounged comfortably in the seat. his arm casually rested on the door, his legs stretched out before him, ankles crossed.

y/n glanced at him, then back at the road. “just takin’ notes for press. that’s all.”

harry chuckled, the sound light and easy. “y’sure do, sugar. but it’s necessary - if those guys were up there, they wouldn’t know their ass from their elbows.”

she didn’t reply right away, trying to stifle her smile. his accent wasn’t thick, but it was obvious he’s from the south. “how’d y’know it was 80?” she asked, trying to move the attention away from her, and back onto him.

he shrugged, shifting the toothpick to the other side of his mouth. “been doin’ this for a while. estimatin’ gets easier.”

she hums, her brows knit together. “and the four bricks are getting tested?”

she earns another chuckle from him, harry adjusting in his seat as he looks toward the pretty girl in his drivers seat. she was smart, and he started to pick up on her stubbornness. “yeah, darlin’. it’ll get analyzed, nothin’ to lose sleep over.”

but she was already mulling it over, something gnawing at her. perhaps if the product was treated like evidence she wouldn’t think twice, maybe if harry didn’t share whispered exchanges with his partner she wouldn’t have noticed. but, she swallowed hard - pushing the thoughts behind her. what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

“y’need to loosen up.” harry grins, pulling her from her thoughts. “know what i’m doin’, trust that, at least.”

she sighed, nodding along with his words. he was right, he was her superior after all. her demeanor was disrespectful, and if she acted this way at the home-unit she would’ve already been chewed out. she exhales softly, cheeks puffed out as she did so.

y/n pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, the city lights polluting the sky above them as it fell into dusk. there were few parking spaces, everything occupied by either agents or tourists. the doors to the lobby were propped open, allowing the breeze to sweep through. a few men sat at the hotel bar, and a couple in dainty florals swayed - no music playing. harry walked in front of y/n, flicking the toothpick into a nearby trashcan. the lobby smelt of cigarettes and a citrus candle as they approach the elevator, a comfortable silence between the two.

“y’okay workin’ in my hotel room? or do you want something’ more public?” he asks genuinely, taking the keys from yn and sifting through them to find the hotel key.

“yours is fine.” she mumbles, not really caring. harry didn’t come off as a creep, albeit a little mysterious. but she didn’t feel unsafe with him. so, she follows him into the room, the door closing softly behind her. the agent tosses his keys onto the bed, setting his hat to dangle off the closet handle. he raises his hand to gesture toward a desk tucked into the corner of the small room, reaching into the tiny fridge below him.

y/n complies, taking a seat onto the grey rolling chair after taking out her notepad and pen. harry hums a tune unbeknownst to y/n, ambling over to desk and setting down two mini bottles of liquor. harry still doesn’t say anything, stepping off to grab an uncomfortable looking wooden chair to sit beside her. a larger notebook already sat in the corner of the desk, accompanied by two different books, a pen, and a few files.

she does the favor of slipping the notebook toward him, along with his black pen before she opens her own notepad, reading over her information.

harry flips open the book, landing on a blank page. he effortlessly writes out the beginning part of the report, elaborating on the tip they received, jotting down the execution of the bust. she watches intently, his words neat and small. she shifts in her seat, clearing her throat to grab his attention. “remember to put down how many agents we had on the ground.” she pauses, her eyes meeting his as he glances toward her. “and um.. who was there, and did what.” she trails off, noting the smile playing upon his lips.

“file cabinet brain.” he murmurs, chuckling to himself before he averts his attention back to the paper, continuing to write. “let me see y’notes.”

she slides over her notepad, harry not breaking eye contact from his pen and paper as she does so. she watches the man before her, curls falling in front of his eyes and the muscles in his forearm flexing with every word he wrote. a small chuckle escapes his lips, letting his pen fall onto the paper as he leans back into his seat. “a fuckin’ fish.”

her eyebrows furrow, his expression shifting from concentration to amusement. “a fish.” yn says back, harry grinning.

“i love it.” he laughs, shaking his head. “never a dull moment.”

her lips curl upward, a breathy laugh emitting from her. she shakes her head, fidgeting with the red pen between her fingers. “why a fish do y’think?”

he shrugged, his smile still present. “desperation and innovation go hand in hand, darlin.” he mumbles, a hint of mischief in his gaze. he shakes his head from his own thoughts, leaning forward again to continue the report.

the night wore on, exchange of details between the two. occasional laughter fell from them, recounting the events from today. it was unusual, and a drug stuffed fish was a first for harry. y/n often stole glances at the man beside her, he was pretty, undeniably so. harry could feel her gaze, too, but didn’t mind it. her eyes on him felt good, a warmth settling in his chest. it was no question that she was beautiful, arguably the prettiest woman in their unit. and it was exactly that, that grounded him. the bureau, an agent. she wasn’t just a pretty face, she was a colleague. not only that, but his subordinate. he remained silent as he printed his name on the final page of the report, turning it toward y/n to allow her to do the same.

“and it’s only 11.” he sighs with a smile, carefully taking out the pages from the notebook and setting them into a manila folder. he slouches into his seat, taking the small liquor bottle and twisting off the cap, throwing it aside. he shoots her an expectant glance, which prompts her to do the same with the other bottle - and they both swallow it bitterly.

y/n’s face twists, placing the bottle back onto the table and shaking her head. she wasn’t use to drinking without a chaser, and although she tried to remain stoic in front of her boss - the taste simply prevented her from doing so. harry laughs, letting his head lean back against the chair with a smile. “can’t hold your alcohol?” he hums.

“i tried to keep a straight face, at least.”

he shifts with a smile, sitting up and letting his arms cross over his chest. “that you did, sugar.”

light laughter lingered in the air, filling the small room with an unfamiliar warmth. y/n tried to shake off her slight embarrassment from her previous whiskey induced face scrunch, forcing a half-smile. “i can handle alcohol.” she insisted, sounding a bit more defensive than she wanted. “just been a while.”

harry raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “coulda fooled me, honeybee. that was quite the scene.” he chuckled, leaning farther into his chair. “no shame in admitting it.”

she grins, the lightness in the moment contrasting the tension in her chest. “alcohol isn’t my forte.” she shrugs. “besides, i’m working anyway.”

“work hard, play harder.” he smiles, a glimmer of something in his eyes that made her shift in her seat. the more time she spent with harry on this job, she became more aware of the unspoken boundaries between them that almost seemed like they could burst if you squint hard enough. harry was her superior, a flamboyant force of nature, while she was still figuring out her place in the world. working alongside him felt like it could be intoxicating, but y/n felt the weight of her reservations.

silence befalls them once again, and before she could speak, a knock echos from outside harry’s door. he perks up, crossing the short distance and pulling it open, revealing an exasperated niall. he pushes past his tall frame, not acknowledging yn as harry shuts the door behind him, confusion settling upon his features. niall’s back is turned toward y/n, the man mumbling something unintelligible as harry flickers his eyes between the two before him. his face hardens, gaze stuck on yn before he parts his lips. “i’ll see you in the mornin.” he dismisses, nodding toward y/n.

she’s taken aback, but shifts to stand up. she bites the inside of her lip, picking up her pen and notepad before warily looking back up at harry. his expression didn’t falter, eyes trailing her frame as she slips out the hotel room with a small frown. she lets the door click shut behind her, the conversation between the two men muffled and fading into the background. with a sigh, she headed toward the elevator to go up to her own floor, the unsettling thought that abrupt meeting between harry and niall was somehow connected to the four bricks of stolen drugs gnawing at her. each step felt heavier than the last as the weight of the situation settled in, leaving her with an uneasy sense of curiosity and concern.

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles au #harry styles fan #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles one shot #cop!harry #harry edward styles

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punkypiscesell-writes · 1 month ago

Text

when it comes without a warning

chapter 0.5

Javier Peña x plus size f! reader

summary: Your friend announces she’s engaged and is adamant at finding you a date. After all, you’re the last of her friends who is still unmarried. After a chance meeting with Javier Peña, an ex-DEA agent whose name you’ve only heard, he comes to your bakery with an offer too tempting for you to pass. You’ll pretend to be together until the wedding to get people off your backs and part ways afterwards. No feelings, clear rules, that’s it. Nothing could go wrong, it’s a foolproof plan. Until you become convinced rules are meant to be broken, even the ones you swore not to break.

warnings (updated after each chapter): fake dating AU, strangers to lovers, romcom, 90’s vibes, angst, small town dynamics, slow burn, pining, mentions of God, mentions of losing a parent (no specifics), the picture in the header is just for the visual and isn't an indication of the reader's skin color. Not beta read. If you see any broken Spanish, please let me know!!

word count: 2.3k

notes: Happy holidays! It has been a while since I last posted something. This idea has been brewing in my head for a good year and a half now and after reading through the lengthy outline of scenes, dialogue, songs, pictures, and ideas I’ve been gathering during this time, it’s finally time to write it out. My lovely friend Jess, @javierpenaispunk, has given me so much confidence in creating this story. She has been the listening ear of occasional snippets I’ve wanted (and needed) to share while I’ve been otherwise having a break from writing. Her patience is truly remarkable and if I were her, reading a scene from the middle of the story with no background or setup, I would’ve wanted to know more immediately. Her gentleness has nurtured my creativity and I’m glad I have such a supportive friend who is my personal cheerleader and who is always up for a conversation, no matter if it’s about something silly or deep. I hope you, Jess, and anyone who reads this will like it and you'll enjoy your time with this story.

This is the only chapter in Javier's POV, the rest is told from the reader's perspective.

dividers by cafekitsune

A few weeks after the wedding...

Javier doesn’t wake up. Instead, his brain catches up to his senses slowly. One moment he’s checked out, living in the darkness between night and morning. It’s a place somewhere in a dream world that is much more inviting than the one that turns out to be true. The next, clarity creeps in with the reminder that he hasn’t closed his eyes at all since he woke up last morning and crashed into bed after sitting on the porch listening to the quiet of the ranch which was ear shatteringly loud.

Light pushes itself gently into the stuffy room. Javier hears the sound of the bathroom tap when his dad brushes his teeth, then the soft click of the door when he closes it after himself and hobbles down the stairs with off-balance feet. The smell of fresh coffee drifts up next and mixes with the tainted taste in his mouth that lingers in his mouth after too many glasses of cheap alcohol and too many cigarettes now dumped on an ashtray only hours earlier.

He really should brush his teeth as well. It would bring a sense of normalcy to his day, mark a beginning that ends somewhere. It would pause the drifting along a timeline that repeats itself with the sun setting and creeping up the horizon again, with the work he does day after day, the screaming of his liver and brains when he picks up the beer, whiskey or tequila to get his mind off things… off you… to only have the smell of you, the touch of your hands, the feel of your skin, your body, branded on him and the memory crush him like a freight train.

If he could travel back in time, to Colombia, he could drown all of this, this useless emptiness, this sense of… fucking heartbreak into work that would take all his brain capacity, and he wouldn’t have time to think about anything else other than work. That part of his life is behind him though. Now he only has the town where everyone knows everyone’s business, the ranch, endless days and nights of quiet and simplicity, home cooked meals and his dad watching reruns of the same shows on tv every evening.

Whether it’s an escape or a way to have the ghost of you around him, Javier picks up the bottle again and again. He tortures himself with everything that reminds him of you like you were gone.

The other option is too terrifying.

He could make his way to town, open the bakery door and find you working. He could talk with you and ask you out, like you had, and this time he wouldn’t remind you of the arrangement you two had promised to follow.

It was broken the second he came up with the idea, on that balcony on New Year’s Eve as you stood there with a drink in your hand, a sad look in your eyes as you watched the people on the other side of the window celebrating. You turned to him, forgot about the sadness in your eyes and smiled at him like you were two sides of the same coin. You clinked your glass against his and wished him a happy new year. The mix of emotions hung heavily over your head, but you kept it away from him.

Javier’s skin itches under the too hot blanket as sunlight warms it up against his naked back. He doesn’t dare move it away. He hasn’t washed it in ages. It always smelled a little stale and reminded him of home. Those days when his mom would wash it for him because she knew he wouldn’t. That was years ago and now it has a new smell. It’s fading, day by day losing any particle of you.

Another string of hurt makes its way from the you sized space in his head down through his eyes, nose, mouth, throat, to his chest and spreads uncomfortably from the top layers of his skin to the deepest tissue. It flips his stomach and forces him to take a deep breath.

He found your necklace last night.

Maybe it was that time you had come over to bring his dad leftover pastries from the bakery. Your visit turned out to be a way for you to get a chance to thank him for taking you to the town after your car broke down.

Or maybe it was that time you had seen Javier’s dad run errands in town. “We have a little time, right?” You panted against his mouth and ripped his shirt off his shoulders. Your hands moved to his jeans when he held on to the shirt to not leave it downstairs. Of course, Chucho already knew then, but Javier didn’t want to fuel the gossip fire even more while the biggest evidence was parked out at the front of the house: your car.

Or maybe it was the time you came over for dinner. It wasn’t even Javier’s idea, but his dad’s. “I want to get to know her!” He said to Javier then. You stayed over that night, the second of two nights. The scent of end was already in the air. You didn’t sleep that night, neither did he. You wrapped yourself around him, clung to him with such force that your skin started to melt into his. He was at peace, just like all those other nights when he was with you, and you refused to let go.

Javier will never forget how you climbed on his lap for the first time, unsure and shy, your heartbeat hammering so hard it made your skin pulse and ripple under his touch. And then that first night you came over to the ranch, with his dad fallen asleep in the living room downstairs while the shopping tv blared old commercials. You climbed on Javier’s lap and drowned your moans bravely in his mouth and against his neck. That night was never ending and he would’ve wanted it to last even longer.

Maybe it was one of those times when you came over and left before he wanted to let go. During one of those visits you lost your necklace you always had around your neck no matter what the occasion was. You once told him it belonged to your mom, but you never told him more. From the way you turned from him and changed the subject, the conversation never continued, and Javier didn’t want to pry.

The lock is broken. The sunlight glimmers against the rosy gold, tiny links that lay on the pillow where he laid it. It was between the wooden bed frame and the old spring mattress that whines when laid on. The smell of you in his nose and the necklace on his pillow, it’s almost like you’re here with him. Javier can hear your out of breath laugh in his ears like the ecstasy of euphoria was still fresh in his veins, filling his brain with fluff and you. The memory hurts. You could be here if he had only admitted he had resigned from the arrangement a long time ago.

The kitchen windows look onto the porch. Chucho is drinking coffee and reading the paper with glasses pushed on his nose. There’s a mug on the kitchen counter for Javier too. It’s empty, but the message is demanding. With his skin now freshly scrubbed, his face shaved, his mustache trimmed, and his hair washed and brushed back, Javier is almost functioning like a human again. He fills his mug and steps outside. It’s cool still, but not for long. The humidity of the early morning is an indication of what it’ll be like later when the temperature climbs over 90.

Chucho has been following his son demolish himself for a few weeks. It hasn’t taken a lot of brain power for him to put two and two together when you haven’t come over anymore and Javier hasn’t stayed over at yours. The nights on his own were lonely, a reminder of when Javier was in Colombia. He would still take those lonely evenings and nights over a hundred times instead of seeing Javier pour his poison of choice down his throat.

“You came in late,” Chucho notes behind the paper without taking his eyes off the inked pages. Javier doesn’t answer, he never does because there’s no question.

“Would you run me some errands today?”

“I can stay and work on whatever you need, you can go.” Javier drinks the coffee and replaces the recollection of your taste with the strong, warm scent of the drink in his mug.

Chucho lowers the paper, his eyes fixed on his son. “What are you running away from?” Javier has to steady the mug in his hand after a cold wave crashes through him.

“Why are you hiding here?”

“I’m not.” The muttered words are unconvincing even to Javier. What they sounded to his dad pushes on his buttons, unnamed frustration piles up in his throat.

“After your mom passed, I too stayed here and locked myself away. You know what kept me alive?”

Javier’s knee sways from side to side, another kind of crushing hurt spreading in his chest with the pressure still blocking his vocal chords.

“You.” Chucho forces Javier to look at him by placing his hand on his son’s knee, stilling the stressful movement. His wrinkled and sun spotted face is soft as he looks at his son, a little smile on the corner of his mouth.

“You’ve always reminded me of her not because God sketched you in her image, but because of your gentleness and how much you feel. You’ve always been sensitive, mi hijo. Don’t waste it by hiding yourself away here.” Javier has to look away and bite the inside of his cheek. Every time his dad calls him by that endearment, many years of unconditional, proud love between a father and his child spills between them.

“You didn’t get your romantic streak from her though,” Chucho withdraws his hand and chuckles to himself.

Javier wants to desperately change the mood. “Where then? The songs she used to listen to?” He asks, hoping his dad will catch onto the joke in his voice.

“From me.” Of course he doesn’t joke back. “You think I won your mom over with my dashing personality?” Javier snorts.

His whole life his dad has been warm, generous and kind. People can trust Chucho and he’s easy to get to know. He’s respected in the community and for a good reason. But God knows if you cross Chucho Peña, you will never hear the end of it. Javier’s mom was strict, but not like his dad. He only accepted to hear the truth when Javier was growing up yet he was never judgmental. Now it’s easier to keep secrets from him, keep him at an arm’s length, even when Javier would need his support.

“I had to work for her to see me and take me seriously. I was the underdog.” The meaning behind the words doesn’t go unnoticed by Javier. He leans the side of his face against his fingers, his coffee mug forgotten against his thigh. Chucho looks too pleased with himself for getting his son’s full attention.

“You think I’m an underdog?” Javier asks, curious to hear how his dad will spin it.

“Yes.”

“Thanks for being honest.” Chucho laughs his familiar, deep, vibrating laugh and fixes his glasses on his nose.

“You are an underdog because you make yourself the underdog. Did you really think your arrangement with her would work when you both fell for each other?” His words shock the sarcastic smile off of Javier’s face.

“You are in love with her, and it won’t change no matter how long you’ll hide and run away from her.” Javier takes a sip of his coffee. It’s already cooling. The humid Texas air lifts sweat on his armpits, encouraged by his dad’s words.

“You can’t say that,” he starts, a lump in his throat as thick as wool.

“Say what?”

“That she fell for me.”

“Why do you think I’m saying you’re making yourself the underdog?”

“No lo sé, papá,” Javier shakes his head.

“Porque no quieres admitir que ella también se enamoró de ti.” His skin prickles uncomfortably. More memories. More you.

“You might be our son, but you haven’t inherited your cynicism from us.” Chucho thinks out loud.

Javier has to get away. “What errands do you want me to run?”

“I need you to get stamps and groceries.” Javier stands and downs the rest of his coffee, hoping it was something stronger. “Oh, and those pastries with the cream.” Another wave of sweat pearls under his arms. He pulls the screen door open and is already stepping inside.

“Tienes permitido amar y ser amado, mi hijo.” Javier stops. His fingers squeeze the wood frame of the screen door. The paint is chipping. From the corner of his eye, he notices his dad looking up at him. Another demand.

Javier answers it by turning to his dad. He empties all the air from his lungs through his lips. His sight gets hazy from the dry tears that prickle his eyes. Chucho reaches for his hand holding the mug but settles on his wrist and squeezes. The air is thick from the unsaid words, the ones that are hidden in his dad’s warm hand on his skin.

He nods and pulls his hand back.

Javier places the mug in the sink. He leans against it to settle his thrashing heart. How did he end up here? How did he laugh about it then, guessing he would corrupt you and your assumed innocence. How did he end up breaking the promise he made for himself about it only being an arrangement, but ended up following your words instead?

“You might corrupt me,” you said with a wicked glint in your eyes, “but I won’t be the one falling in love.” You were joking then. He laughed when you touched your wine glass against his.

And then he fell.

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simp4pedropascal75 · 1 year ago

Text

Secretary (Javier Peña x Reader)

summary: You graduated from university with dreams of becoming a DEA agent. One year before your graduation, a class trip took you to Colombia, where you met Javier Peña. The two of you quickly bonded over the six months you spent together, but after you left, he grew distant. When you return as a freshly minted DEA agent, you discover that you have not been hired as a DEA agent, but as a secretary.

words: 5.2k

this ff takes place in the late 1980s! (but you still can chat with him? yeah, doesn't make sense)

trigger warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI, age gap(reader in her 20s, Javier in his late 30s), explict language, mentioning of s3x in public, fluff, violence, smoking, being catcalled and harrased by a man, a little bit of angst (?), spoilers of narcos season 1 (?), one mention of y/n

a/n: sorry for taking a while for writing a new ff, but i thank you for over 500 likes on bad guy and also thank you so much for over 108 followers<3 this really keeps me motivated to write.

I also apologize if I mess up the plot of narcos and don't get everything right like it is in the series. English is not my first language and I'm not finished with the series yet. I just finished season 2 episode 3, and lord have mercy with this sex scene of pedro.

But please don't spoiler me in the comments what happens next in the series, thanks<3

And I guess I'll be making a little series out of this, when my creativity is working, what do you think?

i wish you a fun time reading:)

-------------------♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡--------------------

You are finally getting your mark on your uniform from your teacher. You stand there with a proud smile, looking into the crowd and seeing your parents.

You finally graduated from university to be a DEA agent.

Since you were a kid, your dream was always being a DEA agent, just like your dad. Your dad was stationed in Colombia, that’s why you didn’t see him that much, but when you came visiting him or he came home to Miami, he told you about his stories. He told you how he chased drug traffickers, went on missions and all the other stuff. As a kid, it just amazed you.

That’s why you began to train early for being an DEA agent. Since you were 5, you started solving riddles, like: ‘who stole grandma’s cat?’ and so on. When you got older, you loved solving murder, drug cases or already solved cases from your dad, which you had to solve again.

And it was pretty fun… and to be honest, you were god damn good.

That’s why after you finished high school with 19 years, you went to a DEA university. You were lying, if you're saying it wasn’t pretty hard… sometimes, when you were on your lowest, you even thought about quitting. But even if it was difficult, you didn’t want to throw away your dream, so, you kept going.

One year before your graduation, you went to Colombia with your class. You stayed there 6 months and of course your lessons continued there.

You visited the station where your dad was working and that was also the time where the hunt of Pablo Escobar started. And also, the time… well, where you met Javier Peña.

Every Sunday, you and your class were allowed to go to the station and were shown around, got told some stories and some tips how life works as a DEA agent. It was pretty interesting…

and who really made it interesting was Javi.

You and Javier got pretty close for the whole six months. You got friends… well maybe a little more than that…

Of course, you also met his partner Steve Murphy and you got along also, but just as friends.

You didn’t remember exactly how everything with Javier started, but in the first weeks you were going to the station, you and Javi always talked and you two just got along well. Sometimes he would steal you from the rest of the group to show you some more private folders, because he knew how interested you were in all of this… and also, to make out with you.

But expect of how good he kisses… or fucks.

He was there when you needed him.

Unfortunately, in the last month, your dad got injured when he was on a mission with Javier and Steve. Your dad got shot bad in a shooting and when you got the news, Javi was there to comfort you. Luckily, your dad did survive, but he was left incapable of working ever again.

Also, you didn’t ever know, what you and Javier really are. You know, he slept with a lot of women, mostly to gain information for work, but he also stopped sleeping with other women, for the whole six months when he was with you,

well, that’s what Steve told you.

But he never actually asked you if you would be his girlfriend or something… but neither did you.

One time when he showed your class around, the topic was the balance between work and personal life. He told everyone that he personally doesn’t do ‘relationships’ because of work and he isn’t interested in it, he finds it more exciting to get to know many women. And that’s what probably kept you from asking him because you were scared to get rejected.

Of course, you fell in love with him, but you thought he didn’t.

Also, your dad doesn’t know anything about what you and Javier had… and if he would have found out, he would probably fire Javier. Since his incident he was very protective over you and worried about you getting a DEA agent like him.

But nothing got in your way again, even if you were really not feeling great because Javi and you barley had contact after you left.

You kept going.

And now you're finally standing on the stage, proud with your mark on your uniform and even graduated as the class best.

At the evening you begin packing your suitcase for the flight to Colombia. You planned since the beginning of your studies, to go back to Colombia and work at the same station your dad did. You feel excited of the thought that your dream is finally going true. Also… how will it be meeting Javi again?

You sigh at the thought and suddenly your phone vibrates. You grab it and look on the display.

Javi

‘heard you graduated, congratulations, hermosa.

Your heart skips as he writes you that and you don’t notice how red your cheeks get. He didn’t write you often, nearly never, but when he did, he continued calling you hermosa, cariño,… and all the other names he had for you.

you

thanks, agent. maybe I’ll be your boss soon.

Javi

you wish. your dad told me to pick you up at the airport tomorrow.

You start to get a nervous feeling in your chest, but also can’t help to smile.

you

okay, looking forward for tomorrow then, agent.

Javi

see you tomorrow, cariño.

You throw your phone on your bed and lay down next to it. You can’t keep down your butterflies in your stomach. The thought of seeing him again after one year has you smiling, but also getting you even more nervous.

What should I say when he picks me up?

Should you hug him? What if he kisses me?!

God, I really need to know what to talk about, I hate awkward silence.

You think and start panicking. You groan in frustration into your pillow. You grab after your phone and scroll through your chats with Javi.

Your smile fades as you see your calls he didn’t pick up, how he responded to some messages from you after literally one month. Sometimes he didn’t even respond. You know, he has really much work to do and doesn’t have it easy… but seeing how he barley contacted you, makes you feel disappointed… you really thought he would like you back…

Maybe I have to high expectations, you think.

Maybe he doesn’t care so much about that, but you do. You gave him your trust in so many ways…

And with that thought, you get up with a sigh and look frustrated at your closet. You watch at some of your bikinis. “yeah, I think I’m going to take this one”, you mumble to yourself with a smirk, taking the string bikini in his favourite colour.

…

You walk towards the exit with your two suitcases and back bag. As you step out of the airport, you take in the warm, tropical breezes. You feel the air brushing across your skin and hair. The sun’s rays are warm and comforting as they peek through the clouds. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, taking a moment for yourself that you’re finally reaching your dream.

“bienvenido a casa, hermosa.”, you hear a very familiar voice saying and you wince.

“goddammit- you scared the shit out of me”, you say out of breath and then take a moment to look at him. He’s leaned against the car, with a cigarette between his fingers. Your feelings are going insane again. He’s still the same, just like when you left. But… he got a little more muscular.

“really? that’s how you act when we see each other after this long time?”, he chuckles and raises an eyebrow.

“shut up”, you mumble as you roll your eyes and walk towards him. You don’t think about it and just wrap your hands around his neck and pull him into a hug. You hug him tightly and you don’t know why, but your eyes start to get wet. Smelling his scent again of cigarettes, leather and musk… it’s addicting.

As you feel how he pulls you closer by wrapping his hands around your waist, your heart skips.

“missed me?”, he whispers and you sense his smirk. “maybe.”, you answer and even if you don’t want to, you end the hug and go some steps back to take your suitcases.

As you feel a wet drop rolling down your cheek, you immediately wipe the tear away and pull yourself together to give him a happy smile. “would you mind helping me with these?”, you point out your baggage.

Javi chuckles as he takes the last drag out of his cigarette until he throws it away and takes two of your suitcases, putting it into the trunk. “god woman-, how many clothes have you in these?”, he gasps and closes it.

“‘need something to dress, you know”, you chuckle and roll your eyes while going into the car. You expected him to say something like: “around me you won’t have to wear many clothes”, but… obviously he holds himself back.

You take a seat next to him and he starts the engine, drinking away from the parking lot. You roll down the window to let the warm breeze of Colombia fly against you. As you were driving through the city, you couldn’t help but just stare out of the window. “feels good to be here again”, you mumble and notice how much you missed this.

You expected him to say something like: “feels good to have you near me again”, but no… nothing.

After a while you finally hear his voice again. “class’s best huh?”, he chuckles and you roll your eyes. “yeah. my dad told you?, you ask and see him nod. “yeah”

“How’s the situation with Pablo? I watched the news, but they don’t tell much and you never know if they’re telling real shit.”, you ask while looking at all the buildings. You see kids play soccer outside and smile. “He’s a fucking pain in the ass, that’s what I can tell you”, Javier mumbles while concentrating on the road.

“You know, we’ll be working together now, you can tell me?”, you point out and raise your eyebrows.

“Let me say, the situation got worse. It’s true that he killed all these people by blowing up an airplane”, he answers and you gulp when you hear that. “There’s a fuckin’ war right in Colombia.”, he adds.

You see that he’s tense because of this topic. As you take a closer look at his face, you also notice he didn’t get proper sleep for like a whole month. “And… you’re fine?”, you mumble concerned.

“I’m fine, hermosa. Nothing to worry about.”, he answers and drives in the streets of Medellin. You remember now where you are. You see the streets you and your class walked down. You also remember that you will soon drive past an ice cream truck… and memories pop up in your mind.

…

Javier kidnapped you from a trip with your class through the streets of Medellin, again. You were walking down the road, he was right behind you and constantly staring at your ass, because you wore a shorts.

How couldn’t you? It was like 40 degrees in the middle of the day.

A heat wave was surrounding you and the sun was shining right into your face. “you’re not very unobtrusive when it comes to staring, you know.”, you smirk and take a quick look behind you.

“maybe I don’t want to be unobtrusive…”, he says while taking a drag from his cigarette. You roll your eyes at him. You just continue walking and hear a chuckle behind you as you rolled your eyes.

As you keep walking, you spot an ice cream truck. “You know, I really need to cool down now.”, you say and with that you just cross the street, walking towards the ice cream truck. “ice cream, really?”, you hear Javi saying behind you. “You want one too?”, you ask but he shakes his head to no in response.

“Hola señor, me gustaría una cucharada de vainilla y fresa en la oblea, por favor.”, you order in Spanish. You smile proud as the man in the truck understands you and gives you a smile. “Impressing.”, you hear Javier whispering right behind you what makes you laugh. Your Spanish wasn’t actually that bad, when you came to Colombia as a kid to visit your dad, you heard this language all around you. And in school you also had some Spanish lessons.

The man hands you over the ice cream and you hand him the money instead. “Gracias”, you say with a kind smile and then go on the crosswalk again. You and Peña walked to a shady spot, to give you two a break from the burning sun.

You start licking your ice cream from the bottom to the top. And, he was watching you.

He sees how you take long stripes of the ice cream, sometimes licking just the tip. Because of the hot Colombian sun, the ice cream begins to melt quickly.

Drops of ice cream land on your hot, light sweated neck, your thighs and your chin. Then, also on your tank top. “Fuck…,” you mumble and don’t notice how hard you’re making it for Javier. You take your finger, wipe the ice cream away and lick it off your finger.

“goddammit, y/n.”, you hear him cuss quietly, you look at him and notice the bulge on his jeans. “Ops.”, you say innocently and chuckle. You just continue licking your ice cream while looking directly into his eyes. You love teasing him… and always know where it leads you too.

It doesn’t take long to Javier grab your arm and drag you into a small alley. You let your ice cream fall, because of him. “Javi! My ice cream!”, you say literally heart broken like a kid and pout.

Suddenly you feel his tongue licking up the ice cream, which landed on your neck. “Javi, what are you-“, he cuts you off by smashing his lips onto yours. His tongue slips into your mouth, tasting the flavour of your ice cream.

Some minutes later, you find yourself being fucked from behind and pressed against the cold wall.

…

You don’t notice you’re pressing your tights together, but he does. “How about we get some ice cream? I really want to have ice cream now”, you ask with a slight smile on your face. You wanted to see if he remembered, if his body still responses to the memories of you.

And… it does.

He hesitates and wants to disagree. “Please...”, you beg and you know one thing, he can’t resist your begging… well, not for a long time.

You hear him let out a loud sigh, before whispering a quiet: “okay”.

Yup, still works, you think.

He pulls over and parks right next to the ice cream truck. And it’s really the same as one year ago.

You get out of the car and order yourself an ice cream, you feel him looking at you while you’re waiting. After you finally got your ice cream, you come back in the car and buckle up. You took the same flavours as last time. You take a long stripe of the ice cream and let out a soft satisfying moan.

God, how you missed this.

You hear Javier starting the engine quite impulsive and you can’t help but chuckle.

“So, where we’re going?”, you ask while licking your ice cream. “I’ll let you out at your dads old apartment. You can get yourself comfortable there and unpack your suitcases until I pick you up to drive to the station.”, he says tense but focussed on the road. You let out a cute short “okay” and just continued looking out of the window.

After thirty minutes, you arrive at the building where your dad’s old apartment was. You get out of the car and Javier opens the trunk, taking out your suitcases. As you wanted to take the suitcases, Javier has them already in his grip and getting them up the stairs.

“such a gentleman”, you tease and he opens the door of your building. “just get your ass up these stairs”, he says while rolling his eyes and you laugh.

As you two walked up some stairs, you finally arrived at your apartment. He gets out the keys your dad left for you and locks up the door. You walk through the door and immediately look around while Javier is getting your baggage inside. “It’s cute”, you say and walk to the front door, where he’s standing.

“There you go, cariño.”, he hands you over the keys, “‘gonna pick you up at 4, okay?”, you nod in response. “Thanks”, you say to him with a smile before he closes the door and you see him driving away.

You sigh and everything still feels pretty unrealistic. You go on your small balcony, feeling the hot sun burning in your skin. “I’m back, Colombia.”

You started unpacking your suitcase and made yourself comfortable. You took a shower, put a little make up on to cover the rings under your eyes and got yourself a dress. You’re wearing a white tank top with a shorts, since it’s still very hot outside. “I really need to go grocery shopping...”, you mumble when you’re looking in the empty fridge. You grab an apple out your bag pack and take a bite.

You look at the clock and it’s already 4 o’clock. You grab your cardigan, in case it gets colder in the evening and walk down the stairs, going out on the street and looking around for Javier. It doesn’t take long until you see a black Jeep Cherokee driving down the street.

Yeah, that’s him.

He pulls over and is leaned out of the window with a cigarette in his fingers. He’s wearing the same as in the morning, but now with yellow toned sunglasses.

God, he looks fucking hot.

“Ready?”, he asks while taking a drag of his cigarette. “always”, you reply with a smirk and get in the car. As he starts driving, you feel the excitement building up in you. The thought of you finally working and getting your place in a DEA station, makes your heart jump from happinesses. You worked your whole life for this.

You don’t live far away from the station and as Javier was parking, you saw Steve waiting outside. A big smile comes across your face. You two get out of the car and we’re walking towards the entrance.

“Hello, newbie”, Steve chuckles as he pulls you into a hug. “Shut up”, you roll your eyes and hug him back. “good to see you again”, he says as he lets go of you and you give him a smile. “good to see you too”, you reply and suddenly the door opens and Colonel Carrillo comes out.

You’ve seen him not often, just sometimes when your dad talked with him. “Buenos días, señorita Álvarez”, he says and offers his hand for a handshake. You give him a smile. “Colonel Carrillo.”, you nod and shake his hand, as Javi and Steve greet him too. ”also congratulations for graduating”, he says kind but with a stern face. “Follow me”, he says and walks into the station with you three following.

You squeak quietly because of excitement and your heart beats out of your chest. You walk through the hallway, and already seeing the office of the DEA agent, but instead of walking further, Carrillo opens the door to the secretary’s office.

“There you go”, he says and you just stand there confused. But not only you’re confused, you also feel Javier and Steve’s confusing look. “Um… that’s the secretary’s office”, you mumble and Carrillo nods. “Yeah.”, he says confidently. “I’m a DEA agent, sir.”, you point out, still completely confused.

“Oh, your father didn’t told you yet?”, you shake your head to no. “Your dad wanted you to watch first, to get some feeling for the job before working completely as a DEA agent. Also, the case with Pablo Escobar is kind of heavy.”, Carrillo continues explaining and you can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“What.”, you gasp slightly and feeling complete anger flowing through your whole body.

“‘being your boss soon’, huh?”, you hear Javi quoting your message with a chuckle. You find that anything but funny. “Shut the fuck up.”, you growl to him, and then force a smile to Carrillo.

“If you would excuse me for a minute, sir.”, you mumble tensely and get out of the office, walking out of the station and calling your dad. Murphy and Peña follow you outside, watching you walk up and down while holding your cellphone to your ear.

“poor girl.”, Steve sighs while leaning against the wall. “guess daddy is pretty scared for her”, he adds and Javi sighs while lighting up a cigarette, handing the lighter to Steve. “I mean, she isn’t bad… I think she would be a good help for us.”, Javi says while taking a drag of his cigarette while they watch you literally yell into your cellphone.

“Dad what the actual fuck?! You know how hard I worked for becoming an agent, and now you’re hiring me as the fucking secretary?”, you yell upset. “You’re not even working as the Colonel with Carrillo anymore, how can you still decide something like that!?”

“I wouldn’t want to get into an argument with her, that’s clear..”, Steve mumbles as he’s taking a drag of his cigarette too and looks over to Javi, who’s just watching you.

“You’re planning to fuck with her again?”, he asks and laughs slightly. “Shut up, Murphy”, Javi mumbles. “No I mean seriously… I know you like her, man”, Steve says while you’re still yelling into your phone, shortly before throwing it on the street.

“‘dunno… I didn’t reply to her calls, or texts often after she left…”, Javi sighs.

“Wow.”, Steve gasps as he finishes smoking. “You really are an asshole”, Steve points out and claps on his shoulder.

“but seriously, she likes you, Peña. Make it up to her ”, he says seriously while you’re on the edge to destroy your phone. “You really need a woman in your life, man”.

“Dad, I’m fucking 26! I can take care of myself”, they hear and see you scream.

Javi starts thinking about Steve words and finishes his cigarette too.

“she’s not gonna throw her phone, is she?”, Steve asks while raising his eyebrows as he keeps watching you how literally go rage. “If you think that, you don’t know her enough”, Javi just answers and one second later, you hang up and throw your cellphone directly throw it on the ground.

Steve just stays there in shock. “Told you”, Javi chuckles. As Steve sees how you walk towards them, he immediately makes his way into the station again. “‘need to do some paperwork”, he excuses and Javi rolls his eyes at him.

You take a deep breath and walk to Javi. “Well unfortunately my dad thinks I’m incapable of taking care and defending myself, even if I trained my whole fucking life for this.”, you complain and run your hand through your hair.

“'guess being class best and graduating after such a long time, isn’t enough.”, you sigh and try to calm down. Javi just keeps looking at you.

“I’ll talk to him”, he suddenly says and you look at him. “what? with my dad? that won’t help”, you scoff. “No, I mean with Colonel Carrillo. "I have a good rapport with him.”, he tells you and puts his hand into his pockets.

“If it doesn’t help, you can come over to us in secret, going through some folders and stuff”, he suggests and you nod slowly. “yeah…”, you just sigh. “thanks.. “, you add, turn around and take your phone with a pretty broken display from the ground.

“Would you mind driving me to the grocery store? I don’t have my car yet”, you ask after some minutes of silence. He takes a look at his watch. “Well, I have thirty minutes until my shift begins, if you do it quick, then I can drive y-”, he replies while still leaning against the wall. “good, thanks.”, you cut him off and make your way to his car.

…

You're leaned on the card and walk through the market. Your cart is already half full and you’re soon finished. Javi was walking behind you and the whole time his eyes were fixed on your ass, you could feel it.

And that’s why you couldn’t stop smirking. “Stop smirking so much, you’ll get wrinkles”, he chuckles and you make your way towards the checkout. “says the man who’s soon in his 40s”, you tease him back and he laughs.

How much you love his laugh…

When you walk to his car with him carrying your two full grocery bags, he takes a look at his watch again and you hear him cuss in Spanish. “I’m already ten minutes late..”, Javier hisses.

“Oh, I’ll walk the rest. My apartment is not far from here and I have to get my cellphone repaired anyway.”, you say, wanting to take the bags from his hands. “I won’t let you walk home alone on these streets, especially if it’s getting dark.”, he says serious, not handing you over the bags. “I can defend myself, it’s fine. Go to work”, you mumble more seriously and grab your bags, ripping them out of his grip.

“When something happens to you-“, you cut him off. “Go to work”, you shout and make your way on the other side of the street.

You hear him cuss in Spanish behind you and just chuckle. You changed in many ways after one year, but one thing always stayed the same.

Your obstinacy, confidence and trust in your skills.

“maybe if you hadn’t been busy with staring at my ass, you would’ve checked the time earlier.”, you shout with a cheeky smile to him as he goes into his car. You chuckle and hear him drive away.

You know when the whole case about Pablo Escobar wasn’t so serious, you know he would’ve driven you home, but unfortunately it was.

It was getting dark and you made your way to a electronic shop. After you talked with the man behind the counter, he told you, you can pick up your phone tomorrow.

When you got out of the store, it was dark outside and got kinda cold. You wanted to put on your cardigan, but notice that you forgot it in Javier’s car. “fuck..”, you mumble and continue walking with your grocery bags.

A group of men were walking next to you on the other side of the street, beginning to catcall you. You start to feel uncomfortable and walk a little quicker, ignoring them. They were continuing catcalling you, and being a woman, alone on a street while it’s fucking dark, is kind of scary.

But that’s life as a woman, I guess…, you think

But you pull yourself together and remind yourself of your confidence, knowing you would knock the fuck out of them. You were five minutes away from your apartment, but suddenly one of the men decided to switch sidewalks and walk to you.

“Buenas noches, hermosa. ¿Buscas alojamiento?”, he asks while walking next to you.

Someone else calling you hermosa, who’s not Javier, gives you the shivers.

Your Spanish wasn’t perfect, but you think he asked you if you have a place to sleep tonight or something.

You continued ignoring him, and he continues speaking to you, but now you didn’t understand shit… and to be honest, you didn’t want to understand it.

You could sense and smell he’s drunk. “Vete a la mierda”, you tell him to fuck off.

Suddenly he grabs your arm, and that was it. You let fall your grocery bags, grab his hand and kick him right into his balls. He couldn’t react fast enough because of the alcohol, so you also kicked him with your knee right into his face.

You hear a car coming nearer, but ignore it. As the guy lies on the ground, you punch him right in his face. You hear his mates being shocked. “You want too? Come here then!”, you shout challenging, but they didn’t thought twice and ran away.

You just scoff as you see them walking away and bending down to grab to pick up your groceries.

Suddenly, you feel a hand on your back. “Cariño, are you o-“, before your brain can process and recognise that it’s Javier’s voice, you punch him directly into his face. You hear him groan in pain and as you look up, you see his car. “Omg- I’m so sorry-“, you panic and take his hand into your face, looking at his bleeding nose. You take out a tissue of your shorts and hold it against his nose.

“I thought it was someone of these men-“, he cuts you off and takes the tissue himself. “You got a hell of a punch, you know that”, he says while holding the tissue at his nose.

A part of your brain starts thinking, he deserves it. For ignoring you for so long. You start to form s slight smirk on your lips, but then throw the thought away.

“What a secretary I am, huh?”, you chuckle and pick up your groceries. He stuffed the tissue into his nose and then helps you, getting all your groceries together and then lifting up your grocery bags.

“Don’t you have to work?”, you ask him confused because it was just 20 minutes ago when he left. “‘told Carrillo I forgot a folder at home, I can’t let a beautiful woman like you, walk home alone.”, he says while going to his car. “but I have to say, you handled the situation pretty well, he’s completely knocked out.”, he smirks and gets the grocery bags in his car.

As he called you beautiful, you blush slightly and take a seat in his car. “‘didn’t train for nothing, you know”, you giggle while he starts the engine and drives you home.

As you arrive after literally 2 minutes, you take your cardigan and get out of the car. “thank you for still looking for me”, you mumble and put the cardigan on.

“no problem… but I kind of deserved this punch, didn’t I?”, he sighs while you take your grocery bags.

Now you can’t hide your dirty smirk anymore.

“Yeah, you kind of did”, you answer and close his car door.

“‘wish you a good shift then, be careful”, you give him a smile and then walk to the building, getting out your keys. “see you tomorrow, hermosa”, he calls after you and as you walk through the door, you hear him drive off.

...

The next morning you finally got your car and could drive alone. Even if you enjoyed Javier’s as your driver. You get to the DEA station and walk to your office…

You see a sign with your name on your desk, and under it is written: secretary.

Yup, still hate that, you think and let out a loud sigh.

You take a seat on your chair and lean back. After a while some woman comes in and gives you some paperwork, and also a folder that you can catch up with everything. Even if the thought, that you normally could work in the DEA office to take down some of Pablo’s guys, makes you angry, you need to live with it for a while now. And then, you get started…

After some hours you hear a knock on your door. “Come in”, you say loud and as you look up who it is, you roll your eyes. “Agent Peña”, you call him while having the folder in the hand.

“‘The previous secretary was fired because being caught flirting, kissing and sleeping with one of the agents’”, you read out loud and then look up at him. “And who might that be huh?”, you ask serious while raising an eyebrow at him, knowing exactly who it probably was.

“Even if you won’t believe me now, it wasn’t me”, he answers and places a coffee on your desk. You raise your eyebrows at him. And he was right, you didn’t believe him.

But, why should you care? You’re not together or anything… but the thought of him fucking another women, makes you jealous… and kinda sad.

“you’re fucking all your secretaries now, Agent Peña?”, you ask cheeky while being leaned back in your chair. He just chuckles while shaking his head and places his hands on your desk, leaning against it.

“No, just you.”, he answers and you choke on your coffee because you took a sip.

“We’re definitely not fucking and I’m not your secretary.”, you say serious to make a point.

He takes a cigarette from his ear into his fingers and puts it between his lips, while making his way out of your office.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that in some weeks.”

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